#i dont think jon died the boy in him did

[lavalais76]

Jon & Sansa | Far From Home

#Jonsa

#jon snow #jonsa #jon x sansa #sansa stark #jonsa meta #girl in grey #jon x sansa meta #i dont think jon died the boy in him did #jon is in a coma like bran and will warg ghost #Youtube

[pastanest]

Jon Snow x she/her!reader

warning: brief reference to attempted SA

part one can be found here

Yours - Part Two

Tension rose between the two hot-headed siblings as they discussed the plan for their future, where such a plan would take them. Sansa was set on starting a war with Ramsay Bolton and taking back their home, saving you in the process, but having already been aged by the ways of war, Jon stood to his feet.

“I am tired of fighting. It’s all I’ve done since I left home. I’ve killed brothers of the Night’s Watch, I’ve killed wildlings, I’ve killed men that I admire, I hanged a boy, younger than Bran! I’ve fought, and I lost.” He was exhausted, in mind, body and soul.

But when Sansa stepped toward her brother and held his gaze, she knew exactly what she needed to say.

“You have not lost, because she is still waiting for you. She will believe until the day she dies that you are coming to save her, because that is who you are to her. You’ve fought, and now you must fight for her.” 

Something flickered in Jon then, a spark that only you could ignite. “I have always fought for her.”

“Then do it once more. This time, knowing she is on the other side. If we don’t take back the north, we’ll never be safe. I want you to help me, but I’ll do it myself if I have to.” Sansa raised an eyebrow, seeing the fire in her brother’s eyes and knowing that you have succeeded, as you always have, in bringing Jon Snow back to his senses.

It was only then, Sansa chose to disclose the nature of your capture. With every detail, Jon’s blood boiled in his veins. Chained by one wrist to the leg of a bed, forced to live each day and night on the castle floor, in complete darkness, save for when Ramsay Bolton decided to pay you a visit for a regular beating. That particular comment made Jon visibly flinch, fists clenching at the thought of getting his hands on the man that thought he had any right to touch you. While Sansa tried to free you, the door to the room you were trapped in was locked and she did not have time to search for the key, you would not let her, instead you had been shouting for her to go, to escape to the Wall, to Jon. 

In that moment, Jon Snow knew he was ready to beat Ramsay Bolton to death. And that was only exacerbated by the raven he decided to send to the wall, addressed to Jon, regarding his sister and younger brother, Rickon, with disgusting threats. There was no mention of you in the letter, but Sansa assured Jon this was a good thing, because it meant Ramsay did not intend to use you as a bargain, he did not think you were important enough, so he would keep you alive as his plaything. Jon did not find that as comforting as Sansa had intended. 

Following Sansa’s advice, Jon arranged a meeting with Ramsay Bolton upon gathering his forces. By no means did they have enough men to truly beat Ramsay, but Jon was certain that he alone could blaze through an army, knowing you were on the other side of it. 

Naturally, Ramsay arrived late to their meeting, leaving Jon, Sansa, and their accompanying party of Lords and Ladies from the northern houses that had rallied behind them, waiting in the clear field that surrounded Winterfell until Ramsay Bolton approached on his horse with his own display of Lords.

Smiling at Sansa on his arrival, Ramsay addressed her first, then looked to Jon, seemingly bemused by the sight of him as he greeted him with far less respect, if that is what his greeting to his wife could be deemed as. 

“Come, bastard, you don't have the men, you don't have the horses, and you don't have Winterfell - why lead those poor souls to slaughter? There’s no need for a battle, get off your horse and kneel. I am a man of mercy”

Jon smirked at him. “You’re right, there’s no need for a battle. Thousands of men dont need to die, only one of us. Let’s end this the old way - you against me.”

And Jon so wished the bastard opposite him would be foolish enough to agree. He could be the greatest fighter in the history of Westeros, and Jon would fancy his chances, for you.

Unfortunately, Ramsay laughed at that suggestion. “I keep hearing stories about you, bastard. The way people in the North talk about you, you’re the greatest swordsman who ever walked. Maybe you are that good, maybe not. I don't know if I’d beat you, but I know that my army will beat yours. I have 6,000 men, you have, what, half that? Not even?”

Jon was thoroughly enjoyed taunting such a petulant child. “Aye, you have the numbers. Will your men want to fight for you, when they hear you wouldn't fight for them?”

Ramsay pointed to Jon, laughing. “He’s good, very good. Tell me, will you let your little brother die because you’re too proud to surrender?”

It was then, Sansa spoke up. “How do we know you have him?”

And with a nod from Ramsay, one of his men threw the severed head of Rickon’s direwolf in between their respective parties.

Trying her best not to show any kind of reaction on her face, Sansa nodded. “And what of my maid?”

Ramsay shrugged. “Well, dear wife, with you gone, I will have no choice but to turn to the others at my disposal, to…serve me.” 

It took more strength than Jon Snow had ever had to conjure up for anything, to not launch himself from his horse and tackle Ramsay from his, beating him into the earth below. With everything he had, he held onto what was at stake, what Sansa had advised him would keep him safest, and held his ground, restricting his visceral response to Ramsay’s words to the slightest clench of his own horse’s reins. “I wonder, will your men want to fight for you when they find out the only women you can keep at your side are your prisoners? A man who cannot please a woman is hardly one to inspire the heart’s of men.”

Ramsay tilted his head to the side, his ego clearly pricked by the notion of being undesirable. “Do you mean to tell me, bastard, that you broke your sacred Oath as well as deserted your post?”

At that, Jon scoffed. “No man would ask such a question, but a boy would. Killing your father does not make you a man, neither does forcing yourself upon a thousand slaves.”

Ramsay composed himself, Jon only picking up on the tiniest flash of a tantrum behind his eyes. “I have heard of your righteousness, bastard. That, I suppose, is the one thing you must have received from your father, and look where it got him.”

Oh, Jon Snow knew he was going to enjoy dragging out Ramsay Bolton’s death for as long as possible. 

For the rest of the day, following the conclusion of their meeting, Jon’s mind was spinning with the threats Ramsay Bolton had made against you and your virtue. He hoped to the Gods he had not given himself away in his fists clenched the reigns of his horse, but that was the most he could do to conceal the fury that raged within him. Even during the continued discussions of the battle plan he had formed with his men, thoughts of you tugged at the back of Jon’s mind constantly. Having once again butted heads with Sansa, she began to take her leave from the tent Jon was situated in.

Turning to face him one last time, she held his gaze. “If Ramsay wins, I'm not going back there alive. Do you understand me?”

Jon’s heart sank in his chest, immediately understanding what she was insinuating. “I won't ever let him touch you, or (Y/N), again. I’ll protect you both, I promise.”

In her angered, traumatized state, Sansa seemed almost offended at such a sincere promise. “No one can protect me. No one can protect anyone.”

He dared not argue with her, but he knew that she was wrong. Jon would protect her, and you, even if it killed him. To die for someone he loved would be a better demise than his first. 

That night, Jon Snow laid in the bed of his tent and stared up at the ceiling. He knew he needed the rest, but could not quiet his mind in the wake of what the dawn would bring. A war like none he had ever faced, with you on the other side. Reaching into the shirt pocket that sat directly above his heart, Jon retrieved the folded, aged piece of parchment that was worn and faded by the countless instances of him rereading it. Huffing beside his bed, Ghost nudged the back of Jon’s hand, bringing a soft smile back to his face as he tore his gaze from the page. 

“We’ll get her back, Ghost, we have to.” He whispered, and Ghost breathed deeply in response, agreeing in his own way.

Following suit, Jon took a deep breath of his own and closed his eyes, folding the parchment back into a neat square and slotting it back into his pocket, feeling a piece of him returning as he did. He envisioned himself as the boy he once was, lying in the godswood, under the weirwood tree, with his head on your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair. If he focussed hard enough, he could almost feel your fingertips against his scalp. That was the only sensation that could bring rest to his racing mind, on the eve of war.

The next morning, the sun rose high, illuminating the field of battle as Jon rode his men to their frontline. Seeing the army that stood between himself and you, Jon began to doubt whether he really could make it to the other side. That was, until a raven flew from one side of the field to the other. Upon one of the wildlings shooting it down, Jon was handed a small scroll of parchment tied with a torn black cord, a slightly crooked sword charm hanging from it, and a strand of your hair that fell with a wind that slowed time to a stop as Jon untied it with trembling hands. Seeing red, his eyes scanned the page, the words that were written on it, and the heart that he firmly believed still resided with you dropped to the field below him.

“She screamed terribly for you when I tried to take this from her. The bastard’s common whore screamed loudest for me, in the end. But fear not, she won’t be making a sound like that again, or any other for that matter. 

I’ll let you watch her rot, if you like. 

Come and see.”

The parchment fell from Jon Snow’s shaking fists, landing on the ground atop the hair that Ramsay Bolton had ripped from your head, but the necklace stayed clenched in Jon’s fist. It couldn’t be true, he told himself, he would feel it if you were no longer there, if you were not waiting for him anymore. As hard as it hammered in his chest, his heart felt the same way it did before, that it was not truly with him. It would have returned to him, were you not there to take care of it anymore, he thought. But deep within his soul, Jon knew that his heart would stay with you long after yours had stopped beating, for his heart had been with you when it had stopped beating in his own body. He truly believed that you were what had brought him back to this life in that sense. What would be the purpose in bringing his greatest motivation for winning such a battle, leading him to the field of war and then taking you from him. It did not make sense, Jon thought, and used that to rationalize to himself that Ramsay Bolton was simply lying for the sake of distracting him. Little did Ramsay know, Jon’s mind was solely on you regardless of such a threat.

And as he unclenched his fists to tie the black cord at the back of his neck, icy gaze fixed on the form he recognised on the opposite side of the field, Jon Snow knew that he would make it through any number of men to punish the one that dared to take a single hair from your head.

The short lived hope of being able to save his younger brother, Rickon, only set Jon’s resolve further into stone. Through a sea of arrows, Jon Snow rode his horse until he was thrown from it, and then he stood. Arrows at his feet that stuck upright, having failed in harming him in a way that reassured him the Gods were on his side once more. And as he faced the army that charged towards him, a single man serving as the front line, Jon’s life flashed before his eyes. He saw your smile, and over the sound of horses and men, he heard your laugh, your call of his name. For the briefest moment, Jon swore he could see you standing at one of the windows of Winterfell in the distance, but the version of you remembered so fondly was years younger than the one that he was here to save. The emotional weight of the sword charm at his chest and your first letter to him folded in the pocket over his heart, made it difficult for him to breathe, and he knew that this was it. Nodding to himself, he unclasped the belt of his sword and unsheathed it, standing to face the wall of men that charged for him, knowing that regardless of whether Ramsay Bolton was telling the truth, you were still on the other side. If Jon Snow could not save you, he would still fight for the right to rescue what was left of you and ensure you were laid to rest in the way you deserved, with his journey’s end being at your side when this was all over. The fury with which he would fight for you was unchanged, because it was still you he was fighting for, it would always be you.

And he fought harder than he had ever fought in his life, ending more lives than he could count without any regard for the men they were, whether he had known them once. If they were standing on the path that led to you, Jon Snow did not know them anymore.

Before long, the bodies had formed a wall at his rear and a living blockade of flayed-man banners at every other side began closing in on Jon and the men that had followed him into battle. His mind raced, every step and every swing of his sword accompanied by the mantra of your name, his very reason for being. For a fraction of a second, suffocating beneath the weight of his own army, he wondered if dying for you then was the best outcome, if you truly were not waiting for him in the land of the living, it would be his one means of returning to you at long last. 

And then, the Eyrie’s horn sounded, with Sansa watching on from afar as they rode into battle for her, for you, for Winterfell. Many had told her the field of battle was no place for a woman, but Sansa would never sit back and let Jon fight for you on his own. She said she would finish this herself if she had to, and she did.

Bursting free from the trap that had been set by the enemy, with WunWun the giant on his left and his dear friend Tormund on his right, Jon Snow charged the field on foot with one deserter in his sights.

At the gates of Winterfell, WunWun took arrow after arrow, but crashed through the only barrier remaining between Jon and his home. Defeated and exhausted, the giant collapsed to his knees with a mighty yell, sharing a long glance with Jon at his side before falling forward. Wildlings rushed to surround him, protecting the giant from any further harm, and the blood soaked Snow stood before his greatest enemy.

“You suggested one-on-one combat, didnt you? I’ve reconsidered! I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.” Ramsay taunted, readying his bow.

And Jon lunged for a shield on the ground, raising it just in time to take the impact of the first arrow Ramsey fired, then the second and the third. None dared to break Jon’s stride before he reached Ramsay and slammed the shield into him, knocking him to the ground. Like a feral animal, Jon Snow jumped on him, the fury of an ancient dragon awaking from an age-old sleep burning in his veins, vision crimson with rage, knowing nothing except for your name, again and again and again, with every crunch of his fists against the red of Ramsay’s face.

It was only when Jon glanced up at Sansa that he was able to regain some composure, his chest heaving as he rose to his feet and stood over the sputtering Bolton bastard.

“You will never touch my sister again. And if you have harmed (Y/N) in the same way, if you have done her any disservice, if there is a fingerprint of yours on her, I’ll know, and I will relive the joy of your death in every dream I have for the rest of my days.” Jon Snow seethed, the flayed-man banner falling from the walls of Winterfell as its children finally returned home.

Running to his side, Ghost began licking at Jon’s palm, and Jon turned to him, crouching down and staring into the direwolf’s eyes.

“Find her, Ghost, take me to her.” He pleaded, not truly understanding how much his companion could comprehend, but knowing the second the beast took off inside the castle that Ghost understood exactly what had been asked of him.

With the spark of you reignited within him, Jon hurried after the white, blood spattered direwolf, your voice in his head calling out to him, growing more urgent with each whisper.

In the darkness of your cell, you rock yourself, your arms wrapped around your knees, attempting to tune out the noise from beyond the confinement of your cage. A large thud against the door sends a shock through your shivering form and you suck in a sharp breath, squeezing your eyes shut and focussing on the first memory you can grab at, deep in your subconscious. 

“It was only a dream, (Y/N), it’s alright.” Jon’s hushed whisper reaches you, both so much younger than you are now.

“The fire, it was so-” Your younger voice was panicked, sobs catching in your throat as Jon’s arms squeezed you.

“You are safe, I promise. I’ve got you.” 

Another thud at your prison door pulls you back to the present and you shake your head rapidly, desperate to lock yourself away in the memory of being in your best friend’s arms again, the safest place in the world that you had come to know. If you focus hard enough, you can almost feel them around you. Almost hear his soft voice in your ears, comforting you, lulling you back to sleep. 

A final thud against the door sends burning light into the room and you squeeze your eyes shut harder, shaking your head and burying your face in your knees.

“It’ll pass, it’ll pass, it’ll pass.” You whimper to yourself, over and over again in an attempt to reassure yourself.

Large hands on your shoulders cause you to snap your head up, eyes wide and wild with fear and anger, but no tears blur them, you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“LET GO OF ME, GET AWAY!” You scream, trying to back away from him, but already having your back to the wall beside the leg of the bed that you are chained to.

The hands leave your shoulders and raise in surrender, either side of a blurry, bloody face that your terrified eyes can’t yet focus on. 

“(Y/N), (Y/N), it’s me, look at me, it’s your Jon.” A familiar voice reaches your ears, and your wild mind halts to a sudden stop, the fog clearing and allowing you to see the face before you.

Jon watches your rigid, frightened expression falter, before it softens completely, his fractured heart at seeing you so afraid, healing at the recognition now in your eyes.

Very slowly, he takes ahold of your hands and brings them to his blood spattered face, gently holding them there and staring into your eyes.

“It’s your Jon, it’ll always be your Jon.” He tells you, relief flooding through him at being able to say such a thing to you, alive and safe again. 

And after everything, after the countless days and nights spent surviving in darkness, locking yourself away in memories to avoid being mentally present in the regular acts of torture you were forced to endure, only when holding Jon Snow’s face in your hands and knowing you are truly safe, do you finally let the tears you’ve been burying fill your eyes. 

Without sparing a second, Jon shuffles forwards and pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you and softly shushing you as you sob into his chest. Covering your ears to shield them, not wanting to scare you, Jon yells out for someone, a ginger haired wildling running into the room with wide eyes at the sight of his friend, reunited with the love he had only heard him mention in moments when it wasn’t too painful for him to do so. With a nod, Tormund leaves the room and passes the order given to him by Jon amongst the wildlings, and between them they turn Winterfell on its head in search of the key for your chain. 

For the time it takes them to find it, you stay safely nestled in Jon’s arms, cries slowing to a stop, allowing you to listen to his heartbeat, a sound that you had not realized just how much you had missed. 

“D-Did…” You sigh, humiliated by your loss of ability to talk after being silent or screaming in an act of survival for so long. Jon squeezes your form gently in his arms, encouraging you to try again, he’ll wait, he’ll wait forever if he has to. Taking a deep breath, you clear your throat.

“Did you kill him?”

Jon takes a moment to reply. “Very nearly. Had Sansa not stopped me, I think I would have broken every knuckle I’ve got before I could have stopped myself.” He pauses. “The two of you should decide what to do with him, but you don’t need to worry about that now.”

Removing his arms from you briefly, Jon moves his hands to the back of his neck to untie the necklace. At the loss of contact, you lift your head from his chest to meet his eyes, and upon him opening his hand out to show you the necklace that had been so cruelly taken from you, you gasp, holding the base of your neck where it had previously resided. Turning away from Jon, he smiles softly and moves the necklace to your front, carefully tying it at the back of your neck. Feeling it back in place, you breathe deeply and settle back into Jon’s arms.

“That was all he took from me, you know.” 

Jon frowns. “What do you mean?”

“He tried to take more, but I bit him through his trousers, so he has been…out of commission, shall we say, ever since.” The subtle tone in your voice is one Jon is so certain he recognises as smug.

Kissing your temple, he can’t wipe the smile from his face. “I am sorry that you had to do such a thing, but I am so proud of you, all the same.”

Sansa enters the room then, Ghost at her side and key in hand. She gasps at the sight of you, running to you and falling to her knees. Taking ahold of your hand and passing the key to Jon, she closes her eyes in a pained blink.

“I am so, so sorry that I left you here, (Y/N). Can you ever forgive me?” Her eyes open then, searching yours and seeing only a smile on your face.

Freeing your other wrist from the chain it had been confined in, you twist and stretch it before placing your other hand over hers.

“There’s nothing to apologize for and nothing to forgive.”

Sansa shares a look with Jon, both of them with knowing smiles, as those had been his very words when Sansa had been apologizing for her treatment of him as a child when she had not long arrived at the Wall.

“You really are the best of us, (Y/N).” Sansa chuckles in disbelief. “It’s about time we got you cleaned up and out of those rags, too. I’m sure Jon will see to that, and I’ll get a room ready for the two of you.” With a teasing smile, she rises to her feet and all but floats out of the room, leaving you and Jon with flushed faces.

Busying yourself with greeting Ghost and rubbing behind his ears, you try your hardest to distract yourself from the butterflies that have burst to life in your stomach after so many years of dormancy. 

Clearing his throat, Jon taps your leg. “She’s right, y’know, we’d best get you cleaned up. There’s someone I’d like you to meet, when you feel up to it.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you shakily bring yourself to stand, Jon’s hands holding your waist to keep you steady. “Who?”

At that, Jon Snow gives you the first dazzling smile that you have seen in Gods only know how long. “All in good time, my Lady.”

In your attempts to take your first steps on wobbling legs, Jon swallows the lump that forms in his throat, seeing the strong person that he adores more than any other, reduced to such physical weakness. If his hands were not on your waist, they would be returning to Ramsay’s face in several more punches for good measure.

Sensing your frustration and embarrassment at your own lack of mobility, Jon doesn’t hesitate to swing you up into his arms, carrying you like the bride he had always wished was his. 

“I take it I don’t have to ask you to retract the bedding ceremony from our marriage at this time?” You tease in reference to the thought that the two of you share in being carried through the castle in such a way, bringing a laugh from Jon that he feels he hasn’t heard from himself in as long as you have.

“Even in more ideal circumstances, I’d never let that happen. Wouldn’t be right to break a man’s jaw on our wedding night.” He says, eyes never leading yours as he traverses the winding staircases of the castle he has not ventured since he was a boy, but are etched in his memory regardless.

Giggling and patting his chest, you shake your heard bashfully. “Good to know the Night’s Watch didn’t remove your chivalry, Lord Jon.” You gasp. “Gods! That really is your title now, as Lord Commander, isn’t it?”

Having not had a smile on his face for this length of time in many years, Jon feels an ache forming in the corners of his mouth, but doesn’t care at all. “Aye, I was, for a time, but my watch has ended.”

It’s then, a confused frown that Jon remembers well returns to your face, years older than he had last seen it, but no less endearing to him. “But...your watch only ends as a dead man?”

Jon nods as he descends the final staircase and kicks an all too familiar door open. “It’s a long story, one for another time.”

You want to question him further, but when your peripheral vision registers where Jon has carried you, you turn your head to look around, your jaw dropping.

Though the room is dark, you recognise every corner enshrouded in the shadows. The large and ancient communal bath that sits atop the hot spring that is Winterfell’s source of heated water, that none use in favor of their own personal baths, but had been your preferred method of cleanliness ever since you and Jon had discovered the dark and “secret” room when you were children. Placing you back on your feet gently, one of his hands on your waist and the other cradling your elbow to steady you, Jon’s gaze stays locked on your expression at his side, remembering this place with as much fondness as you do. 

“This is about to be a bath for the ages. I will stay in this water for a week, at least, ‘til I am but a shriveled prune and you will have no choice but to drag me out against my will.” You tell him, tone so serious and words so humorous they pull another hearty laugh from Jon.

“We’d best get that week-long-bath started, then. I shan’t keep you and your heart’s true desire apart any longer.” He plays along, making you smile as you step in front of him, nodding to yourself.

Taking his cue, Jon lets go of you and turns around, expecting to give you the privacy to strip free of the filthy rags you have been kept in and stepping into the water to conceal yourself, until he hears you hiss in pain.

“Jon, I…I don’t intend to make you uncomfortable, but I do not think I can take this off without help.” You admit, embarrassed for too many reasons to list. 

“It would cause me no discomfort at all, but are you certain you are comfortable with me…assisting you?” Jon asks in a soft voice, careful with his choice of words.

“Of course. You could never make me uncomfortable, Jon.” You respond without delay.

Needing no further instruction, Jon Snow takes a deep breath and turns around. With your back to him, you raise your arms and wait for trembling hands to lift the hem of your dress - if you could call a ripped potato sack such a thing - up and over your head. Dropping the fabric to the floor, Jon immediately turns around again, face burning.

“Thank you.” Your voice is meak, filled with shame over your true love seeing you bare for the first time, filthy, bloody and bruised.

All the while, Jon Snow is trying to remember how to breathe while the mental image of your naked form imprints itself into his flailing mind. The dirt had not even crossed his mind. Your injuries, of course, brought him sadness and anger, but the triumphant emotion was one he is not willing to admit, even to himself.

Taking slow and careful steps, you reach the water’s edge and lower yourself to sit on it, slipping your legs into the water and breathing a sigh of relief as the heat envelopes you immediately, inviting you in until your body is completely submerged and at peace. Every ache within your beaten body is soothed and you are quick to scrub the dirt from yourself, to be clean of your days caged and the memories that clung to your skin like the dried blood of your wounds. 

Hearing the gentle slosh of the water, Jon settles as he realizes you are no longer standing behind him. Standing up straight, he fixes his gaze on the closed door and decides that he will keep watch. As you raise your head from the water, you see his silhouette standing at the door and smile, unable to withdraw the connection your mind makes between this picture and the one you saw so many times as a girl, of a much younger Jon Snow standing as he is now, shorter then, but just as determined to keep watch while you were vulnerable in the water. 

“Y’know, you could do with a wash, yourself.” You note aloud.

Jon chuckles airily. “Aye, you’re probably right.”

Smirking in advance of your devious plan to make Jon blush again, you glide over to the edge of the water and rest your arms on the cold stone. “Join me then.”

And you watch in absolute glee as Jon’s form turns rigid at your suggestion. He does not answer.

“Jon?” You call in a singsong voice.

He clears his throat. “Hm?”

“As grotesque as my body is in its current state, I did not imagine you would ever reject an offer to join me?” You tease, only half joking.

Jon’s reaction is visceral. In a second, he is standing over you with a harsh frown, having had no thought in the effect the sight of you below him in such a way would have on him, too focussed on his emotional response to the ridiculousness in what you had said.

“I cannot even bring myself to say such a word in association to you, the thought alone would be criminal. Do not allow yourself to think that I could see you as anything less than the most beautiful person to ever exist, as you have always been and will always be to me.” 

You have never heard Jon so serious in all your life. His words and the sincerity with which they are spoken renders you speechless for a moment as you stare up at him. 

“Won’t you let me share such a view, of you, then?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper.

And after a moment’s eternity of silence, as though practicing some ancient dance, the two of you step apart from each other and turn your backs, neither of you able to face the tension a moment longer.

The sound of Jon’s armor hitting the stone floor sends goosebumps erupting across the tops of your shoulders that peak above the water, your heartbeats ringing in your ears almost in unison. Even when you hear the splash of his body entering the water, you do not dare turn to face him. As quickly as he can, he fully submerges himself in the water and scrubs the blood and dirt from a battle won. Then, Jon Snow stands, slowly wading through the water until he stands behind you. It is your turn to take a deep breath as you turn to face him, your eyes drinking in the sight of his clean face, the scars on his chest sitting distorted beneath the water, and to take his mind away from the pain of what you assume are his battlescars, your hands lift from the water to trace the line of his beard with an admiring smile. 

“I always knew you’d suit a beard.” You compliment him, easing his nerves as he laughs, gracing you with another charming smile.

Your hands continue their journey around the back of his neck, feeling the wet, inky curls of his hair there and sighing deeply.

“Truly, you have the best hair in the seven kingdoms.”

And Jon laughs the hardest he has in longer than he can remember, throwing his head back and shaking it as though emphasizing the hair that you have never failed to shower in praise, making you laugh with him.

Taking ahold of your hands at the back of his neck, Jon brings them to his lips and places feathery light kisses against your knuckles, holding your gaze. 

“I have missed you more than words can say.” He whispers. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Is that your excuse for not writing me any, then?”

Jon sighs, closing his eyes and hanging his head in shame. “I am so sorry.”

Chuckling, you lift his chin with your finger until you can see into his eyes again. “Considering you won a battle for me today, I think I can forgive you for not having time to read my letters.”

Jon smiles at you gratefully. “I read them all before coming to get you, I swear it.”

“And I believe you, as I always have. I believed you’d read them, I believed you would rescue me, and both rang true in the end. It seems my faith is safe.” You beam up at him.

“Your faith in what?” He questions.

“My Jon.” You tell him, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world, and the moment he hears it, he agrees that it is. 

Unable to resist you a moment longer, Jon’s arms wrap around your waist and pull your body flush against his, lips falling on yours in a kiss softer than a summer breeze. Briefly, he falters, wondering if perhaps he has acted on his instincts far too soon, but then he feels your fingers running through his curls, pulling him into a deeper kiss than he had assumed you would be ready for, but you have been waiting far too long for this. 

Only when the two of you recall the human need to breathe do you have the strength to pull away from each other. But Jon’s lips chase after you, leaving a trail of kisses from the corners of your mouth to your chin, your cheeks, your temples, your neck, with pleading whispers in between.

“Will you be mine, my wife- my queen, should the north call for a king? I cannot lose you again, I cannot deny myself the dream of us anymore.”

And in equally flustered, desperate whispers, you answer. “Yes to all and yes to any. I have always been yours, Jon.”

For a time, it feels like the two of you are the only people in existence, the world having stopped around you, the Gods having paused time to allow you to hold each other for your own eternity. It is not the time for love beyond a passionate kiss, both of your bodies need to heal and rest after the battles you have fought and won, together, to get back to each other. To simply hold each other, after so many years apart, is the greatest joy either of you can ask for.

But, time cannot be slowed forever. Soon enough, there is a knock at the door of the bath and in a wild panic that has you in fits of giggles, Jon scrambles from the water and grabs his armor, holding it over himself to answer the door to the young squire that has kindly delivered fresh clothes and towels for the two of you to dry yourselves with. Nodding and thanking the squire, Jon takes the pile from him and closes the door, turning back to face you with a sheepish expression and only seeing the humor in it when he finds you wheezing against the side of the bath.

Once dry and dressed, the two of you make your way to the door, pinky fingers intertwined between you out of habit. Until your boot steps on something that does not sound like the stone floor and you frown, bending down to pick up a folded piece of parchment, worn at the edges and ink fading in the handwriting that you recognise to be your own as you unfold it. Turning to face Jon, you meet his gaze and know you do not need to say anything as you fold the parchment back into the neat square in which you had found it and slot it the pocket of his new,  clean shirt. Holding your hand over it, you lean up to kiss his cheek and, intertwining your pinky fingers again, you ascend the stairs together and step out into the courtyard of Winterfell. There, your eyes immediately lock onto the sight of the immense form of the hunched over giant, sitting against one of the stone walls as some wildlings watch over him. The child within you gasps, your hands covering your mouth in delight as you look between Jon and the giant frantically.

Laughing endearingly at you, Jon gestures to the giant and walks you over to him. “(Y/N), I’d like you to meet Wun Wun.”

Unable to tear your gaze from the giant, you approach him slowly. “Hello, Wun Wun, it’s…it’s been a dream of mine to meet someone like you, ever since I was a little girl.” Looking over him and his injuries, tears immediately sting your eyes. “I am so sorry that you got hurt, are you in pain? I can fetch you some milk of the poppy, if you like? Or fix up some stew for you?”

Wun Wun watches you with a frown that seems to be etched into his features, curious of you. Taking a few seconds, the giant processes what you have said, looks to Jon and then back to you.

“Snow princess.” His voice is like a tumbling boulder, thunderous and without the human pitch-difference that is associated with asking a question, but Jon understands what he is asking.

“(Y/N) would be my queen.” Jon clarifies, and Wun Wun blinks slowly.

“Snow Queen.” He attempts to maneuver his large form, but roars in protest at his own injuries.

Raising your arms, you attempt to stop him. “Please, don’t hurt yourself further!”

Jon remembers how Wun Wun had acted towards the Princess Shireen and takes a step forward. “You don’t need to kneel to us, Wun Wun, you are our friend, our equal. You bow to no-one, not anymore.”

Your eyes widen in realization of what the giant had been trying to do as he slumps back down with a large thud against the ground. 

Breathing deeply, Wun Wun looks at you. “Snow Queen.” He looks at Jon. “Snow.” Then lifts an arm and loosely gestures to both of you. “Friend.”

Jon scoffs playfully. “So (Y/N) is Queen, but I am just Snow?”

You grin at the giant, who acknowledges your expression with a thunderous laugh that is so loud it would hurt your ears, were you not enamored by the creature it comes from. 

“If she is not my queen, who’s queen is she?” Jon asks, bemused and hoping to catch out the giant, who considers the question for only a second before responding.

“Wun. Weg. Wun Dar Wun’s.” And despite how long it takes the giant to speak his full name, the impact of his own punchline hits just as hard, sending you into another wheezing fit of laughter while Jon shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Well, it seems both Wun Wun and I are yours, now.” Jon throws up his hands in dramatic surrender, causing you to laugh harder, the giant smiling at you fondly and Jon watching you with an adoring gaze, so relieved to see you relaxed and safe enough to laugh again.

When Jon asks you if you feel ready to eat, you nod, but request that you eat together, with Wun Wun, to ensure he eats and gains some energy to help his body heal, too. Naturally, Jon does not deny you of the endearing request and the two of you return to the giant with your own bowls of fresh stew and an extra large one for your new best friend. The three of you sit and talk, taking time to listen to Wun Wun’s responses, which take a lot longer than general conversations with a human would, but you don’t mind one bit. With every word he speaks, you are utterly mesmerized, having already pinned the creature as every bit as incredible as the giants from your favorite tales as a child. 

Though it is not late in the evening by the time you finish your supper, you are too exhausted from the events of the day to stay awake much longer. Having not walked around for any length of time in so long, your limbs are too weak to stand on your own again, Jon having to help you back to your feet with an arm around your waist.

Waving to Wun Wun, you give him a tired smile. 

“Goodnight Wun Weg Wun Dar Wun, I wish you pleasant dreams.” 

The giant gives you a smile that Jon has not seen him give anyone else. “Friend. Sleep good.”

With that, Jon begins leading you back into the warmth of the castle, walking you along the path to what had been his bedroom as a boy, without thinking of what the room could be now, his direwolf trailing behind the two of you. Thankfully, it seems that Sansa was thoughtful in the room she requested be prepared for you all, as Jon’s old bedroom door is open, displaying the candlelit room and the freshly made bed. The two of you share a chuckle in disbelief as you enter the room, Ghost instantly finding a patch of rug on the ground to curl up on and Jon walking you over to the bed to sit down on it before he leaves you to close the door and draw the curtains. 

Falling against the mattress, you groan. 

“I think this ordeal has aged me 20 years and perhaps it is time we retire. I could finally let Sansa teach me to sew and you could herd sheep with Ghost, what do you think?” 

At the mention of his name and in confusion at your suggestion, Ghost lifts and tilts his head to the side.

Jon laughs as he joins you, landing on his back beside you, the mattress bouncing slightly beneath you. “I think that sounds like a wonderful plan. Only, I’m afraid, my Lady, there is another war to be fought.”

You turn your head to face him, seeing the simultaneous amusement and seriousness playing in his eyes. “Surely, you jest. Against who?”

Jon sighs. “An ever growing army of the dead, unfortunately.”

Throwing your arms up and against the mattress above your head in a dramatic display of defeat, you scoff. “But of course! Winter is coming, I should have known.”

Jon smiles at you, having never felt so at ease when discussing the threat that looms over the entire world as he knows it and marveling at the wonder that is you. “Aye, but for now-” He stands to his feet, swings you up in his arms, kicks the bedcover from the mattress and lays you down on the sheet. “-we are free to rest.”

Shuffling to remove your boots and watching as Jon removes his to nudge them under the bed, you use the last of your strength to move over and allow space for him to slide in beside you. 

Turning to face each other, you snuggle beneath the bedcovers and share a smile, like the giddy teenagers that had been lost in your memories until now. 

“When is the wedding due, then, dear almost-husband?” You ask, amused but genuinely curious as to when the two of you will have the chance to arrange such an event.

“Whenever you like, dear almost-lady-wife.” Jon laughs airily, taking hold of your hands beneath the covers and staring into your eyes. “How do you feel?”

You take a deep breath, knowing that the time to set aside your humor would come soon enough. “It is…difficult to put into words. Deliriously happy to be with you and Sansa, to have our home back and to be safe again, of course, but there is still a dark cloud that looms over me and I cannot ignore it. At any moment, I feel as though the rain could start to pour and I could drown in it, lose myself to the fear. In truth, the thought of trying to sleep is terrifying.” 

Jon nods slowly, understanding you completely, as he always has. “However dark that cloud gets, however hard the rain falls and however scared you are to sleep, I will be here. To show you the sun again, shield you from the rain and guard you through your dreams, I will be right here, and I will never leave you again. I swear it, by the old Gods and the new.”

Tears threaten to blur the perfect vision of the candlelit Jon Snow, but you are quick to blink them away, removing your hands from his to run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer, until his forehead rests against yours. “And in return, I swear to protect you from whatever horrid memories plague you from the time when we have been apart, to hold you through them and remind you that no matter what, you are a good man, the best man, and the man that I love more than anything.”

Closing his eyes, Jon Snow takes a deep breath, and you do the same, sharing the silence and darkness in a peace that neither of you ever thought you would find again. 

“Can it be that this night, I’ll dream of you and wake to find you here?” You whisper.

Jon sniffles, having not let his relief and love for you truly overwhelm him until now. “Aye, this night and every night thereafter.” 

Gently tracing the line of his jaw with your thumb, you lean forward to close the space between your lips. “To be yours is to live nothing but a dream, Jon Snow.”

And for the second time since reconnecting to the rest of his soul, Jon Snow loses himself to you, falling into you and cradling every part of you with such care, having craved every second of these moments with you that he never thought he could have beyond the land of dreams. The two of you had lived separate lives for long enough, the Gods had no choice but to force you back to each other in an act of fate that defied everything Jon thought he could believe in, except for you. Every foe he fought, every task he took on, his first thought would be that in some distant way, he would be saving you from something, because he would be doing so from the frontline of your heart. To be yours was the only victory he truly felt. 

——————

taglist: @otteropera @neymarjrrwife @oliviabelova @nyotamalfoy

#jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow imagine #x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons

[the-kings-jester]

I hate jonah magnus so much he's my favorite character. I wish for him to see the end he fears so desperately and SEE it capture him. He's my special little guy. fuck you jonah you absolute wet dryer lint ball of an old man. I want to stuff him into a glass coke bottle and add mentos.

He confirms himself to care about people in at least a vague sense with his sentiments about Barnabas, which means he is actively a shitty person because he wants to be, as opposed to an emotionless husk composed of only greed he wishes he was. he keeps doing things and being so smug about how all of it is coming together when literally 90% of the things he did were just orchestrated by the fucking web, and the other 10% was him fucking up and trying to cover it up. He was a prim prissy little asshole and all he ever was was mean he was never smart. He was arrogant and prideful and power hungry and he LOST. fucking LOSER I fucking LOVE him SO MUCH

hee hee bring about the apocalypse and be the king of a ruined world

and then get fucking murked by Jon because fucking WHAT did he THINK was going to happen IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT

and his last pathetic words 'I don't want to die Jon' YOU DUMB SON OF A BITCH. NOW YOU BEG FOR YOUR PATHETIC STUPID LIFE. LIKE HE CAN PRETEND HE ALWAYS KNEW IT HAD TO END BUT THEN HE TURNS AROUND, A STUPID SHELL OF MAN AND SAYS I DONT WANT TO DIE.

you didn't know shit jonah you IDIOT you just wanted to be big boy on big throne and you didn't give a fuck about anything. oh except you did give a fuck because you were just some guy and you hated that so much. you weren't better than anyone and no matter how bad you tried to hide it because ur a pathetic fucking loser, you were only the best at being a gullible selfish pawn and you died that way you stupid goddamn dumbass. you threw away everything and for what? to get a knife to the chest when you made someone else the Eye's favorite and also made them HATE you. dumb fucking WHORE

I think more people should talk about Jonah in this way. I fucking love him more people should talk about how incredible he is he's my favorite kind of character fucking oh my god. dude of several lifetimes. just the most pathetic wretch of a man. Jonah Magnus you will never be famous, forgotten to time just like you deserve.

#Im literally fucking obsessed with him #this is late but not in my heart #tma #tma 200 #tma spoilers #the magnus archives #elias bouchard #jonah magnus #tma shitpost #“i HATE YOU JONAH RAHHHHH. KISSING HIM”

[lolitastories]

BLACK AND BLOOD

Y/N L/N is the daughter of the Great Khal Drogo although she was raised by the king of the unknown lands. After finding out he died she travels and finds the one who caused his death. Along this adventure she meets the mother of dragons. Jon Snow. Night walkers. We will see if she really has the Dothraki blood flowing through her veins.

Chapter 8:

Once we arrive at Winterfell I start to dislike the cold again. I look back to see my people dressed up in clothing they don’t like. This is going to be eventful with them. I dismount my horse once we are inside the gates of Winterfell. People standing around watching us as we walk towards people I guess are people who Jon knows. There is a redhead girl in the middle, her stance and glare strong and tall. The dark headed boy beside her on a wheelchair. Jon goes over and hugs them. “Where's Arya?”

“Lurking somewhere.” The redhead states, no really amused

“Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. My sister, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell.” Jon turns his attentio to Daenerys as I take a step back to stand with the Dothraki.

“Thank you for inviting us into your home, Lady Stark. The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you.” Sansa does look to convinced with that but smiles hesitantly

“Winterfell is yours, Your Grace.” The tension could be cut with a knife geeze

“This is Y/N” Damn. I walk up and stand beside Jon. “Leader of the Dothraki and Unsullied, Princes of the unknown lands” I shake my head with a smile.

“Your brother and people here like to use long names but where I come from we dont. You can call me Y/N”

“Y/N, welcome” I nod

“Thank you. And thank you for taking in my people, I know we are a few”

“They have been pulling their weight. Well” she moves her attention to us all. “Welcome. We got a few things we need to discuss” The moves out of the way as she starts to walk up the stairs. Daenerys, Jorah and the rest follow her up. I turn over to the Dothraki.

“Greyworm here will take you to the other Dothraki. Malakho is the man who will lead you.” I walk close to them all. “If there is anyone who has a problem with the rules I set in place, you still have a chance to turn around!” I walk up to Greyworm. “I would want nothing but for them to be peaceful, if you have any trouble you know what to do” Greyworm sends me a nod and turns to the Dothraki. I walk up the stairs and now stand on the balcony unaware of my direction. Stupid castles. That is until I took one step just to be pulled to a little corner.

“We have a meeting in a couple of minutes” I roll my eyes trying to push him off.

“You should be there before it starts” I looked around making sure no one could see us. The walls to the side allowed some barrer to the wind. The fur on him made a pretty good heater. He ignores my words pulling me in. I would be lying to say we didn’t practice all those nights we were on our way here. Sneaking around the others. Not sure why but it was like a compromise we made without using any words. His lips pushed for more and that's what I did. I wrapped my arms around his neck and his arms around my waist were tighter. Once or twice I have felt this sensation in my body. Like it was on fire and the only thing that I think would help is feeling his hands all over my skin. All those times we stopped before anything could happen, mostly because I was unsure on what to do.

“We don’t have time for this” He pulls away, almost hitting his younger brother Bran. “Everyone is waiting for us” I was holding in a laugh as I saw the expression on Jon’s face. He makes his way into the room allowing me to hold the door open. Jon takes a seat in the middle of Sansa and Daenerys. Bran is to the side of Sansa.

“The Night King has your dragon. He's one of them now. The Wall has fallen, the dead march south.” Bran says untouch with the information.”

“As soon as we heard about the Wall, I called all our banners to retreat to Winterfell. Lord Umber, when can we expect your people to arrive?” Sansa turns her head as we do all to the young boy who stands up from the side of the room.

“We need more horses and wagons, if it pleases my lady.”He turns to Jon. “And my lord.” Then to Daenerys “And my queen. Sorry.” He can’t be older than 13. This much power and responsibility can overbear someone.

“You'll have as many as we can spare. Hurry back to Last Hearth and bring your people here.” The young boy bows and walks out the hall as around the room people starts to chatter

We need to send ravens to the Night's Watch as well. There's no sense in manning the castles anymore. We make our stand here.” Jon looks towards a man

“At once, Your Grace.” The older man nods, walking out aswell.

“Your Grace.” A young girl stands and directs her sight to Jon. “But you’re not. Are you? You left Winterfell a king and came back a- I’m not sure what you are now” if the chatter wasn’t heard before, it is now. “A lord? Nothing at all?”

“It's not important” Jon says bluntly

“Not important? We named you King in the North.” the people in the room start chatting his title.

“You did, my lady. It was the honor of my life. I’ll always be grateful for your faith. But when I left Winterfell, I told you we need allies or we will die. I have brought those allies home to fight alongside us. I had a choice, keep my crown or protect the North. I chose the North.”

“If anyone survives the war to come, we'll have Jon Snow to thank. He risked his life to show us the threat is real. Thanks to his courage, we have brought with us the greatest army the world has ever seen. We have brought two full-grown dragons. And soon, the Lannister army will ride north to join our cause.” Tyrions words didn’t sit right with this crowd “I know, I know, our people haven't been friends in the past. But we must fight together now or die.”

“May I ask, how are we meant to feed the greatest army the world has ever seen? While I ensured our stores would last through winter, I didn't account for these many soldiers and two full-grown dragons. What do dragons eat, anyway?” Sansa's stance was clear. She didn’t trust us. She was okay with our stay because they needed people to fight against the dead but nothing else. She could care less about who sits in the iron throne, as long as the north survives.

“Whatever they want.” Daenerys and Sansa stare bluntly at eachother. Thankfully the meeting subsided and ended fairly quickly after that. I took my time to make sure the Unsullied and Dothraki camp outside the wall went without a problem.

“256” Malakho said next to me. I nod. That is nothing compared to the men who crossed the sea the second time.

“I don’t blame them” I smile. “We are not going to cause any trouble. Hunt what you can and bring them into the castle.” I order before walking away back to winterfell. “Don’t touch those” I pointed out to the young girl who was running her fingers on the blade of our curved swords. Before she could point the sword towards me I disarmed her. “You’re Arya” the girl didn’t look surprised. She didn’t show any emotion at all. The face does run in the family.

“You're the girl who leads the savages and” she looks back to the unsullied.

“Those are the Dothraki, the savages you mention and those are the unsullied, not so savages” I walk past her and place the sword back.

“And what are you?” I turn with a grin

“I don’t know.” It was true. I had the Dothraki blood in me. My mother came from the slave cities the unsullied were made in. Yet I was raised by Omnis. “They are all my people.” Before she could speak we were distracted by the dragon flying above us but what really shut us up was the fact that Jon was riding one of them. Why couldn’t I smile for him? It must feel great to mount something as wonderful as a dragon. I wanted to smile but the only thing I got was a frown.

“I heard you came from across the narrow sea and even further east” I nod towards Arya.

“The unknown lands. Omnis” I look back to the young girl. “You look like you have had a long road”

“As do you” I chuckle, shaking my head.

“I wish there were stories to tell but unfortunately I have spent most of my life surrounded by four walls. Until a couple years ago I didn’t know air could feel this refreshing”

“How did a girl like you become the leader of a big army then?”

“I spent my time wisely in those four walls. I learned what I could and fought for what I believed once I was out. My people are not an army to me, they are just that, my people. People who choose to fight alongside me.”

“Will go back to Omnis when this is all over or will you stay here?” My head moves to the right a little.

“I have a duty in Omnis. Whether I take it or not doesn’t mean I won’t be back somehow.” I walk close to her. “As far as westoros goes or if you are meaning Winterfell well, there is always a chance” I smile. “Now if you excuse me, I need to do something” I walk into the gates and make my way to find a secluded place.I grab two candles and walk out the castle. Making sure no one follows me. I come to the edge of the forest. I enter it just enough to where I can still see the castle. I clear out the snow and place the two candles on the ground setting them. I watch as the wax starts melting. The little bit of warmth they radiate is enough comfort I need right now. Tears start to swell my eyes and I can’t longer feel anything other than the constant pounding in my head. The tight feeling of wanting to feel something has me wanting to punch the ground but I only let my knees hit the ground. I am not sure that the quiver in my hands is because of the cold but when I wrapped myself in my arms It was over. Just like the sun has finally gone down, so have the candles. I clean up my tears. I remove the candles out the way and dig a shallow hole enough for the candles to fit. I place the candles inside and fill them in. I covered them up and with a sigh I stood. “Fuck! You scared me” I turn around and see a figure standing there. I turn on my torch again and see him clearly.

“You don’t feel pain anymore” Bran just stares blankly at me. Like if I hadn't just seen my balling my eyes out. “Don’t worry. I didn’t see much” wow. That makes me feel better. “Why don’t you feel pain?”

“Becasue it wasn’t pain what I was feeling. It was just grief. Sadness. I am not going to see them again, sadness can be confused with pain but they are not the same”

“But you don’t feel sad anymore, how?”

“It's in me still, I just choose to ignore it”

“Why?” god this child. Am mostly a child too but still.

“Because crying for someone is not going to bring them back from the dead. Spending countless hours isn’t going to avenge them. Spending all my energy is going to do nothing for them” I turn kicking some snow ontop of the buried candles. “I have let myself mourn. They don’t need to listen to my cries any longer”

“Do you believe in that?’ I give him a questioned look when I turn around to him. “That they are able to hear and see you? People like to tell kids stories so they don’t feel sad, is that what they made you believe?” I let out a scuff of a laugh.

“Yes” I said planly “I used to hear stories, all different about what happens after death. I want to believe the one with a beautiful beginning, middle and end but I still can’t trust it too much” My mother used to tell me my favorite story of the dead. “That we die and our life rewinds infront of our eyes, of course only the happy memories. Then you see your loved ones for the last time. Then finally you rest. That is where my favorite part comes in. They say whenever you need them the most is when they actually show up, of couse not like a ghost but more like a presence”

“And that is what you think happens?”

“I think it's a beautiful bandaid”

#game of thrones jon #jon snow and yn #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x oc #jon #jon snow #jon snow x you #jon snow x yn #jon snow x reader #jon snow smut #jon snow game of thrones #Jon snow x y/n l/n #daenerys stormborn #game of thrones daenerys #sansa stark #arya stark #game of thrones got #got #snow

[go-to-the-mirror]

TMA relisten time! I made y’all vote in a poll and I made instagram vote in a poll, and relistening to Magnus won! These first three are going to be much shorter, because, trailers, but rest assured, the future ones are going to be a lot more coherent.

So, without further ado:

MAG 0.1 - Seed, MAG 0.2 - Pre-Launch Trailer, and MAG 0.3 - Launch Trailer

Sorry, idk how to add read mores on mobile, so uhm, good luck.

MAG 0.1 - Seed

I’m too anxious to leave another comment on a patreon post to ask where to find the TMA trailers, so they’ll be listened to on spotify. Did you know they’re running a kickstarter??? /s

I have… not missed the ads. At all. Like. No missing is happening here.

Anyway, uh, connections! This episode has ✨ spooky voices ✨ saying Vigilo Audio Operior, which is Latin for “I watch. I listen. I wait.” This is similar to the Magnus Institute’s motto (Audio Operior Vigilo), but also to the MAG 160 description, Vigilo Audio Supervenio.

Google translate says this means “I watch. I hear. I come,” however the wiki says it means “I watch. I hear. I come.” According to wikidictionary, Supervenio can mean “I overtake” or “I come on” as well as “I surpass,” “I exceed,” and “I excel”

So, uh, what are the creepy voices? Probably web or eye related. Since “I watch, I listen, I wait” is, yknow, spooky in an eye way. But, “I wait,” and having the tapes be web, and then the call back in MAG 160 when a lot of the Web’s plans (and Jonah Magnus’, the bastard’s) come together.

And also on a meta level, like, the joke that RQ is web aligned and the implication that the tapes made it to our world (bringing with it the fears) and the crew retrospective… I think it’s gotta be Web, doing the spooky voices and putting it in the description.

Does that mean the Web they/themmed jon? Diversity win, i guess.

MAG 0.2 - Pre-Launch Trailer

(CW for canon-typical unreality)

JONATHAN SIMS!!!!! I LOVE HIS VOICE!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s well written, but I’m still laughing at the exposition ajsjcjjsxjj

How long after Jon’s promotion did they find the tape recorder, you think? And why was it in storage if Gertrude was using it?

NO JON NOTHING IS SO MUCH BETTER!! NO LITTLE ENGLISH BOY DONT RECORD THE STATEMENTS AND BEGIN YOUR INEVITABLE JOURNEY TOWARDS BECOMING A MONSTER

👍 i am helpless to stop him, as i was the first time, as I was the second, :(

The only other Jacob we know worked for Leitner. Jacob Feng, who disappeared after reading A Disappearance. I’m not sure if I think these two Jacob’s are the same, but probably they are.

15 July 2011… what happened then…

THATS WHEN JON STARTS. THATS WHEN JON STARTS WORKING AT THE MAGNUS INSTITUTE. IN 2011. FUCK

Also when Daisy killed Calvin Benchley, but that’s less relevant

And the same year that Melanie’s father died

Holy shit.

Okay new headcanon, Jon started working at the Magnus Institute at like, either the day before or the day of

oh my godddddd. seriously?

Ok, ok, so my interpretation of the statement is like. This is talking to us. Like yeah, it’s also about jon, his beholding will come to nothing and he will (be forced) to end the world

But I think it’s talking about us as well. We can listen to these statements, these recordings, but it won’t help us. They’re already here.

Hmmm spooky :3

Anyway this is like a FANTASTIC trailer! Short little statement, an introduction to, well, something looking back from the depths of the Magnus Institute’s archives

And then, like everything else, it’s just phenomenal on a relisten

Im so excited for this :33

MAG 0.3 - Launch Trailer

The first characters mentioned are Elias and Martin respectively. Cool.

And then Jon’s the first one to appear.

“I swear, if he’s brought another dog in here, I am going to peel him.”

I know he’s a godawful boss, but also, I can understand why he’s annoyed at Martin for that.

Also uhm. Martin’s- Martin’s not the one who’s most likely to get peeled here.

Who? Lured him away to say spooky things into the tape recorder???

“Let’s try this again.”

ITS A WORD CHOICE I KNOW ITS A WORD CHOICE BUT- LIKE??? “Now, shall we turn the page and try again?”

I’m going to be insufferable when I reach 160, I swear

#tma #tma relisten #mag 0.1 #mag 0.2 #mag 0.3 #landscaping your mind chapter one #tma meta #i will have way more to say once we get deeper into it #i’ll dig through my messages like i did for a mag a day #unreality #tma spoilers #gonna toss this in the queue #not to me not if it's queue

[jackoshadows]

Why did Jon Snow refuse the offer of Winterfell from Stannis?

Read Jon XII, A Storm of Swords. An entire chapter dedicated to Jon’s though process on why he refuses Stannis’ offer.  To make it easier I will highlight the relevant parts:

He sat on the bench and buried his head in his hands. Why am I so angry? he asked himself, but it was a stupid question. Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father’s heir.

It was not Lord Eddard’s face he saw floating before him, though; it was Lady Catelyn’s. With her deep blue eyes and hard cold mouth, she looked a bit like Stannis. Iron, he thought, but brittle. She was looking at him the way she used to look at him at Winterfell, whenever he had bested Robb at swords or sums or most anything. Who are you? that look had always seemed to say. This is not your place. Why are you here?

The warmth took some of the ache from his muscles and made him think of Winterfell’s muddy pools, steaming and bubbling in the godswood. Winterfell, he thought. Theon left it burned and broken, but I could restore it. Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins.

You can’t be the Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born, he heard Robb say again. And the stone kings were growling at him with granite tongues. You do not belong here. This is not your place. When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said . . . but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods.

Thorne and Marsh will sway him, Yarwyck will support Lord Janos, and Lord Janos will be chosen Lord Commander. And what does that leave me, if not Winterfell?

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? Would I sooner be hanged for a turncloak by Lord Janos, or forswear my vows, marry Val, and become the Lord of Winterfell? It seemed an easy choice when he thought of it in those terms . . . though if Ygritte had still been alive, it might have been even easier. Val was a stranger to him.

I would need to steal her (Val) if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me.

And finally:

“Gods, wolf, where have you been?” Jon said when Ghost stopped worrying at his forearm. “I thought you’d died on me, like Robb and Ygritte and all the rest. I’ve had no sense of you, not since I climbed the Wall, not even in dreams.” The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon’s face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the last light and shone like two great red suns. Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then

Jon thinks he could become Lord of Winterfell and make Ned proud. He thinks Ned and Robb would want him to restore Winterfell. He thinks of Ygritte and Val - how he could make a life with Val. He thinks of his precarious situation at the wall - with Thorne and Slynt wanting to get rid of him. He thinks of Sam and Gilly and Mance’s son.

This is important:

When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said . . . but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods.

Stannis precondition for  making Jon Lord of Winterfell is that he has to burn down the Winterfell Godswood and convert to the Lord of Light. Burn down the Old Gods. And Ghost returning at the end of the chapter is what reminds Jon of the oaths he made before the Godswood, his duty to the NW and the Old Gods of the North.

The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon’s face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the last light and shone like two great red suns. Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then

To reiterate, Jon does not refuse the offer of Winterfell from Stannis for Ned, Catelyn, Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran or Rickon. He does not refuse Winterfell for love of his family.

He does it because of sworn oaths to the Old Gods.

There is only one time over the entire 5 books that Jon makes a very important decision because of love for family - specifically one member of his family. And that’s when he breaks his sworn oaths at the tail end of ADwD to go save Arya from Ramsay Bolton. And yes, he is pretty much walking a thin line throughout the book by helping Stannis and sending Mance out to get Arya - but the end is where he decides to go attack Ramsay as Lord Commander.

So yeah, Jon’s arc is about overcoming societal biases and doing right and leading as just a bastard. It’s about not giving into his selfish impulses and envy unlike his character foil Theon Greyjoy.  

But Jon is also a character who wants to wield power. He wants more because all his life he’s been told he cannot have it by virtue of his birth.

You can’t be the Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born, he heard Robb say again.

Imagine how he is going to feel when Robb then makes him KITN?!

Would Jon refuse being Lord of Winterfell when the same offer is made to him by his beloved brother Robb? Who does not demand that he burns down the Godswood? Who has legitimized him as a Stark? A Jon who has been assassinated by mutineer NW brothers and who has always wanted Winterfell? Who wants an united North to face the threat of the Others? 

It’s okay for Jon to want to rule Winterfell. He does not have to accept the circumstances of his birth - because those circumstances are unfair and unjust.

And yeah, Jon’s not going to be endgame king. There’s a good chance he ends up in the Lands of Always Winter at the end of the series. At the same time, this does not mean that his narrative arc and journey does not include climbing that ladder as high as possible, to the very top. There’s a reason GRRM spend 13 chapters on Lord Commander Jon Snow being a savvy politician, strategist and leader in ADwD.

Jon Snow is going to be ruler of the north sometime during the next two books and Robb’s will is there for a reason.

GRRM SSM, August 2000

Q: I have a question, since Robb actually  legitimized Jon and named him his heir for Winterfell and the North  before the Red Wedding (granted no one knows about this and is still  alive or free, the Greatjon knows as does Edmure, but I dont see them  getting out of the Twins any time soon and Catelyn would probably die  before telling anyone) does this make Jon’s rejection of Stannis’ offer  moot?

A: Edmure and the Greatjon are prisoners, true… but you are forgetting  the envoys that Robb sent to Howland Reed… Galbart Glover, Maege  Mormont, Jason Mallister… they are all alive and free... As to what is and is not moot… the key point is, only a =king= can legitimize a bastard……

#Jon Snow #ASoS #A Storm of Swords #ASoIaF #GRRM #TWoW speculation

[wolfsneedles]

A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb.

We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

Surely his father would have wanted that, and Robb as well. They would never have wanted the castle left in ruins.

Every morning they had trained together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when there was no one else to see. They were not little boys when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes. “I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight,” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back, “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.” Or Robb would “Well, I’m Florian the Fool.” Or Robb would say, “I’m the Young Dragon,” and Jon would reply, “I’m Ser Ryam Redwyne.”

“I don’t even dream of Ghost anymore. All my dreams are of the crypts, of the stone kings on their thrones. Sometimes I hear Robb’s voice, and my father’s, as if they were at a feast.

- Jon.

Be that as it may. You are not Robb, no more than I am Robert.”

The harsh words had blown away whatever sympathy Jon might have had for Stannis. “I loved my brother,” he said.

I loved Robb, loved all of them … I never wanted any harm to come to any of them, but it did. And now there’s only me.

- Jon , ASOS.

“Gods, wolf, where have you been?” Jon said when Ghost stopped worrying at his forearm. “I thought you’d died on me, like Robb and Ygritte and all the rest. I’ve had no sense of you, not since I climbed the Wall, not even in dreams.”

I love these all mentions of robb by jon, and how he so casually remembers him and mentions him, while at the same time expressed his guilt over when stannis told jon to take over winterfell, and even being apart, he remembers arya and robb a lot, is actually so wholesome. I want one good reunion of stark kids and jon, also the fact that Robb also reminds Cat of jon and how he is Ned's son too. And im wondering when robb was talking to catelyn how he can even call him off watch and order his legitimization decree, and also declare him heir in winterfell after he dies. Well Robb did die but we dont know anyth about parchment he wrote in front of Cat and other lords before departing for Twins. Their relationship was so pure it tugs my heart when they remember each other. Also im not sure if the parchment robb wrote and sealed was/is play any role.

Jon had wolf dream about robbs wolf too, sadly gazing which he mistakenly thinks as Brans Summer, there is too much connection bw their wolves too.

Anyways i love them. They are babies.

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf meta #a song of ice and fire #grrm #jon snow #robb stark #the young wolf #winterfell #they are so wholesome #i stan them platonically #arya stark #aegon targaryen #house stark #house targaryen #asoiaf quotes

[22ratonthestreet]

Tma characters in among us go brrrrrr

oh hell yeah it’s brrr time boys

lets say all-human no entities au (cause otherwise people would 100% use avatar powers to cheat and that’d just end in a fistfight between lukas and rayner) here we gooo 

jon: always plays darker colors without customizations (green and purple are his favorites). he’s the guy who sits 80% percent of the match in security on cams and then can’t answer what tasks he’s done because he hasn’t done any yet he’s only been in security. he’s that one player a group of 4 visual-task-safe ones will escort around in the last few rounds to make sure he finishes all his goddamn tasks instead of sitting in security (tim, sasha, martin, and annabelle)

but there’s also been a few times he’d destroyed imposter on their first kill because he’d see that shit happening directly in the hallways within range of a cam and he’d immediately go sprinting for the emergency button, so good for him

his in-game name is usually ‘jon’ until nikola starts using ‘jon’ as her name. he has to switch to “archives”

sucks ass as a solo imposter because the moment ppl see him running around instead of being on cams theyre like ‘thats pretty sus of jon’. however, if he’s playing with a good second imposter he can get pretty far with his ‘no bullshit’ attitude

martin: hooo boy, martin’s definitely played an embarrassing amount of hours on public servers for fun, accidentally memorizing all three of the maps out of sheer exposure. the first time he plays with the archive crew, they vote him out because “he knows the map too well that must be an imposter thing”

gets sad over people’s pet sitting around sadly after they’re killed

plays almost exclusively as yellow with a cute beanie hat 

terrifying as an imposter. and also terrified. he always gets so anxious cause he doesn’t want to nerf his friends when they’re alone in electrical and always lets them walk out safe. gets them later in medbay and comms though. 

when he gets imposter his first or second kill are almost always elias

sasha: changes her name and customization almost every game cause it’s fun. “i saw what i saw” attitude, checks admin a lot and collects facts before calling emergency and laying it all out so comprehensively the votes are 9/10 times unanimous

follows the killer around as a ghost while using the ghost-chat to clown said killer

efficient as fuck as an imposter, one of those cases where the first meeting is called and there’s already 5 dead

most common to glitch out mid-game though or get kicked from the server, always followed by tim spamming the chat with “AAAAAAAA NOOO” and “ ;-; “ as they wait for her to reconnect

on that topic, tim: has all the customizations bought because he wants to play cool hats so bad. most likely to derail the conversation during meetings into things irrelevant to the discussion: aka “haha purple dont kill me im so cool aha” or “so, why did everyone become space explorers?”

calls elias “sus” every round and then doesn’t elaborate

surprisingly, this works sometimes

doesn’t get mad about the game even if his team loses (unless nikola is hacking again). has a surprising amount of imposter wins because he makes friends by hanging out with people throughout the game so they can vouch for him later, and then when he kills, he’s immediately safe from blame for the rest of the round.

elias: so fucking competitive and uncooperative it’s a nightmare. plays on his phone because then he can “do tasks faster” but he also doesn’t fucking do his tasks. all he does is follow people around to “collect evidence” and because “he wants to see if theyre the imposter” which in turn freaks people out and makes them think its him.

absolutely not above asking people who died in-game about who killed them 

likes the winter map specifically because it has that decontamination murder hallway

they got jurgen to play the game one time and elias fucking got him in that decontamination hallway in round 2 and left right before Jon and Basira got there with a small difference in time, making Jon look like the only person in the area. Jurgen never played with them again

plays as putrid lime green exclusively 

michael: plays as ‘carrot’ 

likes that long-hallways map specifically because everyone hates the long hallways

likes to play pacifist imposter, makes the other imposter mad bcs he won’t do any kills. however. he closes all the fucking doors. this is annoying for everyone included.

helen: if ever asked where she was on the map her answer is always ‘sry new to the game :( dont know where tf i was’ and it somehow always works

“helen what tasks did u do”

“i dont remember ;-; wires?”

she remembers. she knows what she did. but isn’t it more fun being a mega suspicious crewmate and then being able to rub “The Cooler Spiral was not The Imposter” in everyone’s faces?

annabelle: sucks at card swipe but excels at simon says

queen of remembering where she saw who when she’s the imposter for the Perfect Alibi. also somehow manages to get away with kills in the middle of the cafeteria

likes to invalidate people as a crewmate for fun 

“annabelle saw me scan”

“no i didnt”

maxwell rayner: sabotages lights every game and then stands in electrical, methodically turning the switches off when ppl try to fix it

jared hopworth: king of stack killing

jane worms: every time a meeting happens she opens with “oh worm?”

uses vents a lot: also her greatest downfall. jon has seen her vent on cams too fucking often.

peter lukas: sends a :-] into the chat before the game starts and then goes AFK for 30 minutes

#tell me if theres any other characters you wanna hear abt fellas 😌 this got way too long to include everyone #im happy to make more.. this is The good venn diagram crossover for 2 things i like #tma #the magnus archives #longpost #long post #textpost #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #sasha james #tim stoker #elias bouchard #jane prentiss #helen richardson #michael shelley #among us #ask #anon #22ratonthestreet

[lavalais76]

I recently wrote a post asking if any of you think Jon Snow is actually dead. I got likes, but no response. I had to be sure I wasn't the only one thinking this way, so I copied a comment from RyanBarnes13 on Reddit, and I agree with him and a few others as well.

RyanBarnes13:

He’s alive. Aemon has that dream vision on the trip where he wakes up and is almost desperate to tell Jon " cold preserves." The first was a non- fatal neck cut. 2nd was a belly stab, (depending on where) could miss all vitals. 3rd stab was in the shoulder blades. So into the bones, not organs. He fell to the snow. And never felt the 4th blade. It's very, very likely that Jon wasn't actually stabbed a 4th time. (All he felt was the cold)

The key thing is the SNOW, it actually freezes and stops the blood loss which is what actually saves most stabbing or shooting victims. People have laid in SNOW for 12 plus hours and recovered from what should be a very fatal wounds.

Yes he will warg into ghost, and he is probably unconscious and in a coma like state. Jon has to finish the crypt dream of Winterfell that he continues to have,and wakes up from. This time he will finish it, and will talk to the wolf he saw in the last iteration.

And yes the regular science will confound everyone, and after sewing or burning his wounds, Melisandre will light a fire, put Jon there and the rapid warmup will help Jon recover and voila!!!!!!! A miracle!!!

Edit: actually if you look at the very last sentences, he falls first, does not feel a fourth stab, cause there is no stab, he does not warg, he only feels the cold. He is laying in snow. So he is still in his body. He calls to Ghost for help.

“Jon fell to his knees. He found

the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold …”

— George R. R. Martin's A Game of Thrones 5-Book Boxed Set by George R. R. Martin

That belly punch is the big if. If he hit organs yeah it’s a slow septic death if Jon survived the initial stabbing. But it reads like it wasn’t near as bad of a stab. Bowen Marsh is crying unlike the others. Reads like he still isn’t quiet 100% on doing it. And definately is lacking the fighting skills. He punched Jon. And the dagger stayed when he let go. That says it went in deep enough to stay in. But who the hell stabs a guy and it is described as a punch????? Seems off.....

But unlike nowadays they stabbing into lots of muscles. Not fat. It’s a lot harder to cut through.

We actually had a soldier in Iraq that worked out all the time in our free time, he got shot in the abdomen. Turns out working out saved his dam life, the bullet hit the ab muscles and it actually stopped the bullet before it penetrates to the organs. Honestly we all worked out after that. Protein shakes and weights for the whole platoon.

But that’s what I’m seeing described more in this stabbing.

*This last comment comes from: BowTiesAreCool86

"Oh, you think he's dead, do you?" - GRRM.

Also, from another interview

I: "Getting stabbed to death by one of his friends?"

GRRM: "Wait til the next book"

I think he'll be pulled back from the brink, a more successful spell than was worked on Khal Drogo, but it will cost him part of his "soul" in one way or another.

* I personally think Jon will be in a coma like Bran was and he will Warg his wolf. From there Jon will learn of his abilities with the help of Bloodraven and Bran. I also think Jon is more powerful than Bloodraven AND Bran. Jon will probably be allowed to leave the wall when Rob's WILL surface which is SOON, or the Northerners will come together and will be Jon's "get out of jail free" card.

As far as they know he is the last living son of Ned Stark, and they would rather see a Stark in Winterfell than the Bolton's or Stannis. They are bidding their time, but Jon is in grave danger even at the wall as we already know. I'll say this until the books prove me wrong: Satin had something to do with Jon's stabbing. He is "the hidden dagger."

Things will change BIG TIME once Sansa Stark makes it to Castle Black as well. These are my thoughts on Jon Snow. Everyone automatically assumed he died and the theories I read of his return are totally unbelievable. YES, he will be a changed man and NO he will NOT be some zombie who can't communicate or stuck in Ghost.

No one ever talks about Jon's unnatural super strength. They showed a little in the show, but not enough. Jon has the blood of the 1st men and old Valyria. He is full of ancient magic that he isn't even aware of. His near death experience and being in Ghost's skin will change EVERYTHING. I also happen to believe that Jon is a greenseer and will find out of his heritage himself.

Jon might die later in the series and be brought back, but as for now; Jon lives. Any thoughts? 😊

#jon snow #jonsa #jon x sansa #girl in grey #sansa stark #jonsa meta #jon x sansa meta #i dont think jon died the boy in him did #jon is in a coma like bran and will warg ghost

[mrsjadecurtiss]

Jade I had a fucking mind blown. We always see the Roose’s betrayal always to the Cat prospective but...I have a though. What if in Roose’s mind he did it because he was sure Robb was gonna lose and so acted in consequence to preserve his life? Sure he did it also to obtain the rule of the north BUT the main reason would be to save his life. That wouldn’t justify the betrayal but it would make a bit more tragic his character. And it would also explain his anxiety at the wedding, like if he had to force himself to do something he usually doesn’t do (exposing himself). But he has to do it to save his life.

Hi, thank you for the question! :)

I do not think Roose was in any danger for his life or believed himself to be in such danger prior to the Red Wedding.

Grrm himself says that even until the Jaime chapter that comes before the Red Wedding, Roose was on the fence of whether it would be more beneficial to take part in the Red Wedding or stay loyal to Robb. I have some speculation about what we can guess about his motivations in this post.

As for Bolton, if you reread all his sections carefully, I think you will see a picture of a man keeping all his options open as long as he could... sniffing the wind, covering his tracks, ready to jump either way... even as late as his supper with Jaime at Harrenhal... - Grrm, SSM August 23 2000

While Robb was a losing cause, the disadvantage this poses to Roose is mostly that he is wasting his men and ressources; after all winter is coming and he needs his men back home for the harvest. Roose’ general modus operandi during the war was to keep his own losses small, and try to gain profit when possible like weakening his rival houses (sabotaging his allies at times, for example at the Green Fork or Duskendale). On the other hand, there was a lot to gain with the support of the Lannisters (see again the post i linked above).

 " Perhaps I ought to make a wedding gift of you to Edmure Tully . . . or strike your head off, as your sister did for Eddard Stark. [...] A thousand leagues of mountain, sea, and bog lie between my walls and your rock. Lannister enmity means little to Bolton." - "Lannister friendship could mean much." Jaime thought he knew the game they were playing now. - Jaime V, aSoS

As an important Lord, Roose is not directly in danger during the war unless he decides to actually fight in battle, and we know he tries his best to keep safe:

Though Roose had been in battles, he bore no scars. - Reek II, aDwD

The only way he could lose [at the Green Fork] would be if [he] were captured or slain himself, and he did his best to minimize the chances of that. - Grrm, SSM February 2 2001

As we can see with Lords like Wylis Manderly and Greatjon Umber, the enemy prefers to take people of high status hostage, so they can be ransomed or used as political leverage. Even in cases where someone is injured in battle they are usually taken back and get their wounds treated, so they can be ransomed or otherwise made use of later.

Lord Tywin offered White Harbor full pardon for our support of the Young Wolf. He promised that my son would be returned to me once I paid a ransom of three thousand dragons and proved my loyalty beyond a doubt. - Davos II, aDwD

The Umbers have no love for the Boltons. If Whoresbane has joined the Bastard, it can only be because the Lannisters hold the Greatjon captive." - Jon IV, aDwD

One fat lordling [Wylis] haunted the kitchens, Hot Pie told her, always looking for a morsel. [...] He belonged to Lord Tywin, but the fierce, bearded young man who liked to walk the battlements alone in a black cloak patterned with white suns had been taken by some hedge knight who meant to get rich off him. [...] She did remember Lord Cerwyn, though. [...] Yet as fate would have it, he was the only captive who was never seen; he was abed in a tower cell, recovering from a wound. - Arya VII, aCoK

The lords who die are the ones who risk their lives directly fighting in battle (like Karstark’s sons who died fighting Jaime). Lords like Wyman Manderly who sit back and dont partake in war are dealt with through hostages and other political arrangements, and are demanded to prove loyalty.

"It is being common-born that is dangerous, when the great lords play their game of thrones," said Septon Meribald. "Isn't that so, Dog?" - Brienne VII, aFfC

Generally, Roose seemed to have been of the opinion that it would be smarter for Robb to bend the knee, but the way he states it is annoyance, not fear.

“King Robb must make his peace with the Lannisters. He must put off his crown and bend the knee, little as he may like it." - "And who will tell him so?" Roose Bolton smiled. - Arya X, aCoK

"Won every battle, while losing the Freys, the Karstarks, Winterfell, and the north. A pity the wolf is so young. Boys of sixteen always believe they are immortal and invincible. An older man would bend the knee, I'd think. After a war there is always a peace, and with peace there are pardons... for the Robb Starks, at least. Not for the likes of Vargo Hoat." Bolton gave him a small smile. - Jaime V, aSoS

#asoiaf #roose bolton #asoiaf meta #asks #Anonymous

[smallestclowninthecircus]

Season 4 notes

Ep 121: mmmm tape recorder turning on without them knowing goes brrr. AAAhjhdsjfhjdf "do you mind if i call you jon" its like "can i call you elias?" is this the dream guy with the tendrils? who wants to bet the boat is captained by peter lukas? big man if it killed yall how are you still here. oh boy the tape is doin that thing. who do we think it is? did he wake up? hmm. ep 122: lol jon. 6 months!?!? bruh quit movin big man. he just Knows things sometimes you know how it is. nah b/c i can relate to feeling like other ppl/ things arent real, thats the biggest mood BUT i think it is kinda pretentious to entertain the idea that youre the only Real person. If you dont see a body dont believe it. i'll hold out hope for a bit. theres not a new archivist is there? surely i wouldve heard about that. oh god peter what changes did you make. ep 123: web development. hope its about spiders. she blames him. bruh why. if they hadnt done anything the world would've ended piss off melanie. why are ppl acting like he chose to be in a coma for 6 months. we know this they just appear. no longer "head archivist of the magnus institute, london" now he's just "the archivist" covered in spiders? cuz ik the spider has to do with controlling what youre doing and all this stuff but i cant think of how this connects to that. ep 124: ugh vertigo. is michael crew an old man? oooh. fairchild. how did he know it was martin? hmm. GRR I LOST MY NOTES AGAIN. FROM EPISODE 125 - part of 131. ep 131: bruh he's so hard to understand big man ur voice is so low. Jared Hotworth. the boneturner. "the ones i helped find their proper bodies" name a better top surgeon? our favorite trans ally? ep 132: woo field trip into the coffin! static lol. he says "chill out im just poppin in for a quick recall mission" is the rib thing actually gonna work? bruh it feels so odd and contrived but he's an odd man with some odd powers so idk. rip that archivist ayyy statement time. voices? recordings? are those tape recorders? was it the tape recorders? did they pull him back? i hope so b/c if the rib thing actually worked im gonna be so disappointed. ep 133: predicting the lonely? tundra. like the lukases. hmm. sanikova! like sanikov land. so its the hunt? i suppose? yeah. so daisy's clearly rejecting the hunt, which makes sense cuz she doesnt seem to like the entities that much. wait so are we just not gonna talk abt all the tapes playing on the ground?? no? ep 134: not an archival assistant anymore? Adelard Decker (or however you spell it) i recognize that name. 15th power. i was right there are 15. the extinction? im trying to remember what ive heard. oooh spooky. no i gotta be real i dont understand this fear but i'll believe you that its a thing. ew lukas is so squealy. lukas can turn invisible? oh boy. oooh martin put the tape recorders there. lol lukas is worried he's gonna be an avatar of the eye. ep 135: yoo its the third Daedalus statement! maxwell rayner (reiner? reigner?) i dont know who that is but ik its somebody. is he the cult leader guy? church of the divine host? 4 people?? what? did they kidnap somebody and keep them up there?? oh dear jon are you dying? did he try to See or Know or whatever? why does everyone call basira detective lol. ep 136: he was the one from the spider movie that ate ppl right? the special effects artist? is it annabelle cane? "its a joke jon" lol. hmm they wanted to record the therapy session with melanie? i wonder who that is. i almost wanna guess annabelle cane but im not sure. ep 137: this is the one! he went to the other place and read the war statement but it wasnt the one she took. not the music again. sounds like the slaughter. who the heck is eric lol. "the watcher's crown" like the crown of eyes we saw in the piccrew ep 138: oh boy Robert Smirk time. is that elias? as unhelpful as usual. if new powers can be "born" can others die out? did jonah magnus wear the watchers crown? maybe they were born from our fear or maybe our fears were born from them. ceaseless watcher does ceaselessly watch so. idk what you want

big man. yeah jonah for sure did something. ep 139: agnes!! lol that one dude threw off all their plans thats so funny. BUT this does tell us something. the tree in the backyard of the hilltop house? not made by her. it going down didnt kill agnes. im guessing gertrude tied agnes to the house using the tree? u good jon? cuz every time you try to Know smth intentionally it seems like it causes you great pain. how come he can do it accidentally with no problem but the second he wants to know smth of plot relevance he gets a headache or whatever ep 140: lol pagan exultation. classic. "oh thats my rib" lmaoo. ppl are always so mad at jon and his Eye powers except when it benefits them. they're like "oh you shouldnt do that its not right" and then all of a sudden they want to know something and its all "oh cmon jon its the only way" ep 142: oh god jon what did you do. its interesting she's giving her statement in the way that they do when jon Asks. did he see her in the Coffin? and so he's following her? ok cmon jon you're supposed to let them come to you. lmao ikr martin. "start to hear the blood" "suure." lmao ep 143: lol that awkward moment when gertrude is already dead. big J if you die im gonna kill you. bruh. ayo helen? i guess it worked? ep 144: lol this reminds me of that one edgar allan poe story where he kills the old dude with the weird eye. spooky music stuff. lol thats my favorite symptom of a heart attack its hilarious. so its smth abt the location probably? bro i feel like you should write down the numbers idk. 162830165049 564846474827. seems like the distortion? like the kinda thing that causes you to go crazy because of the numbers. oh boy is it the extinction again. bro what?? im?? his dad just died and he's like eh. martin dont be mean. he's being all lonely again. big man ur pushing ppl away. oh god its fucking squealy boy. ep 145: that almost sounds like breekon/hope... Arthur? agnes. aah was he from the lightless flame cult. a tree. lol he's just ranting rn. hehehe fuck landlords amirite. yay someone tells jon outright to go to therapy. now do it big man. ep 146: oh great! the distortion! i'm making a spiral themed building in mc right now! jon maybe accept you did a bad? nah this goes back to what i said before. they're fine with him compelling ppl when its convenient for them but otherwise its "no jon you cant, youre a monster jon" the tapes didnt turn on. i spose that means its not important? i agree with daisy, this seems unecessarily dangerous. ep 147: is that a tape? the first tape? well that went better than i expected tbh. BAHAKJASHDJKF she did the "can i call you jon" like nikola says "elias, can i call you elias?" damn annabelle is such a girlboss. oh! the one thing from the picrew. its been a while since ive connected smth to that. lol all the other avatars always talk abt their patron so lovingly and the jon just. absolutely hates the eye. ep 148: lol thats the most elias thing. "i just like the way it sounds" ep 149: did he disappear? bruhh. ur lonely powers are popping off i guess. oops i accidentally deleted my notes for 150 - 152 ep 153: thats the cult right? yeah. it doesnt sound like the church of the divine host? idk. if it is the church of the divine host then they worship the dark right? so is the eleventh the dark star or wtvr? it almost sounds like the corruption b/c of the oil or grease or whatever. oh dear what happened. oh its the hunters. theyre so annyoing. not an "it" he has a name. he's a person. is this a page from the skin book? ep 154: oh shit this is gerry's dad! oh shit he quit! oh dear god. jon don't you do it. haha martin. yeahhhh... is he gonna tell the others? cuz you know theyre gonna get mad if he doesnt. oh also picrew connection! the bandages over the eyes? yeah thats this im guessing. ep 155: oh good he told them. oh my god what did you do. lol i have no mouth and i must scream. nah you get none of my sympathy you're straight up murdering ppl. its like the desolation, destroying lives to sustain your own. ok but taking their statements doesnt

kill them. oh... bye melanie. ep 156: lmao imagine if the tape recorder spoke back. oh boy decker! i swear we got a statement from him already. oh god mirrors scary. They're gonna eat the body arent they. Yup... sounds like the flesh or the slaughter, but I'm not sure. Could be the extinction for sure. Smth at the center! Like Helen mentioned. God Peter you dick. Ep 157: peter's just so :/ another decker statement i see. a statement about the corruption? hmm. maybe its not abt the corruption. the extinction. lol pandemics. topical. John Amherst. helen? lol i can hear admiral purring in the background. oh cmon helen dont be like that. im trying real hard to like you but you make it so difficult. ep 158: did they fucking free the stranger? im gonna lose it. you absolute dumbass. im sorry who is that? jonah magnus? my guy. peter. you absolute dickhead. that's elias. (im p sure i had this spoiled for me that elias is jonah) oh dear this is her death. god peter you prick. i hope this is a pop off martin moment and not a "martin you idiot" moment. i hope the hunters kill the stranger entity. or she kills them. furry daisy pop off! yeah fuck you peter martin can make his own decisions. you know that clip from Twisted where jafar says "ok what the fuck was that" martin D: ok like i know its gonna work but still D: D: ep 159: peter you bitchboy. because if im alone i cant hurt anyone else. imnotgonnacryimnotgonnacryimnotgonnacry do it do it do it do it. pop off jon. ok its a pretty good idea for a ritual i gotta be honest. she didnt even have to blow it up lol. oh dear that was certainly a noise. "he gets you" did he not have jon already? he's back! our boy is back! awwww thats so cute. ep 160: oh right this is the thing in the safe house. i love him. "obviously im going to tell you if i see any good cows" martin my beloved <3 :)) oh boy who is this. fuckin. people. jonah you dick. gahh. you can tell he's trying to resist so hard lol. ohh. hehe keep an *eye* on him. altho if the extinction is a real thing he needs to be marked by that right? lol he sounds so intense im sorry- i want martin to just burst in and be like "look at this cow i saw!" its so dramatic and for why.

#tma notes #tma

[p1nkwitch]

I have plenty of questions about your fanfics I don't even know when to start. Can I just name every one of them and send you star with it?

But please tell me something interesting funfact behind Heart Machinations? Also were you at some point considering bad/different ending?

i think i would never finish writing if you did send me all of them even with the star, i ramble a lot and go on tangents, but if you send them like 3 fics per day i can make it i promise.

Ok to start! Nope! This was the story where i literally envisioned the ending first and had to go backwards to write it. The ending was solid.

But for fun facts!! Oh boy.

This entire story begun with the idea of a one shot, with a slight different plot, it would have ended with Peter as an old man uploading his mind like he promised Elias in the fic and coming back as an Ai, to stay with Elias for as long as they could. I ended up switching things arounf in my head until i ended up with the image.

The thing that started this entire fic.

Peter floating in space with Elias declaring his love.

I was forced by the entire story to find ways to keep them from confessing earlier than intended. God did i regret having to put it so later, because the mental flips i needed to justify them not realizing, were driving me up to a wall.

Another thing that i was not aiming for, but ended up liking was the TimPeter, i didnt aim for it to be a plot point, i didnt even ship them, but i wrote them so well i actually hesitated. Not to the Elias romance with Peter that was a given, but i hesitated to actually make a policule out of everyone.

In the end i decided to go for my original plan, but it had been a posibility.

Most of the relationships surged as the soty progressed, because i realized if it was only them it would get boring so i started to shuffle characters and relationships and it worked far better than i intended.

Now the other interesting tidbit.

Was that originally i was intending for Elias to be the actual big bad, a la Glados in portal. Elias tricks Tim and Peter into thinking Jon went rouge and he got Leitner killed so Peter connects him, Elias pretends things are normal but sends him off to rrepair something outside, once Peter is safe he uses the gas to kill everyone who is not going to be sent to do experiments in the hidden labs.

Martin opens the door for Peter makes him help by trying Elias like the original one did to get himshut down. He realizes and hurt tries to attack him, Martin uses the portal door and Peter still tries to hold unto Elias, but they ended up slipping and going into space.

The Simon plot point was always going to be there, same as the oxygen and confession.They apologize and everything.

In fact Peter was never supposed to realize Elias was killing people until he takes over. I realized it would be impossible to keep him in the dark for so long along with the not confessing so i had to give one up for the story and i was set on my ways.

The more i developed them, the more i started to change the plot to fit better with the new narrative wanting it to be more satisfiying.

Something else that i changed in the story, was that after Leitner dies, Gertrude was supposed to come to check the station, Elias sees her and gets her killed. It did not pan out of course, because i considered it would be too out of nowhere.

When i realize the story was sort of getting shifted i went with the idea to switch the notSasha on its head. Which created lovely Pasha!! Whom i love a lot.

Another thing that i had to develop because i grew very fond of it were Missy and Titania. Particularly Missy, since Titania was a stand in for the vast in some ways. Missy was needed to provide Peter some form of love, since yes, i made the Lukas terrible people, but a child still needs some love to grow and i wanted someone to help with that since Simon couldnt. I love her a lot and honestly wish i could use her in more stories because she is a great character. I know people dont really are in it for the original characters but she is dear to me.

The honest to god most fun i had during the story was writting the chats between the characters and the moments where Elias and Peter where being horny for each other. Peter freaking out silently about the things Elias said, while Elias was being the most horny creature in the station was delightful.

My favourite parts were also writing Elias realizing that he ruined Peter, that he had caused his misery, i wish i could have gone harder on those. Because they are a great part of his motivations. He starst not caring but the more he falls in love, the more he realizes how much of a horrible person he is and how much he is hurting Peter. I love that, i put it before but i like making characters go though bad stuff to get them to the good, to get that catharsis after all the bad.

I wanted to do a bonus. Where Peter does go to Simon’s funeral and everyone has to sit there while Android Simon was just chilling giving his own eulogy.

One thing i sort of chikened out of, but left crumbs around was the plot point that ogElias and Micheal Shelley were dating. Thats why Elias had the picture and writings about him. They split due to Gertrude and Elias defending JON4H. Its why Elias could keep Helen so easily to raise her. She calls him uncle, because they had broken up and he felt he didnt deserve to take that from Micheal.

Currently they made up and since Elias was single they are patching things up, Helen was thrilled.

This is also the story where the cats appear. And im so glad for it.

Captain was an idea based on the au of another fic i love Timeline of Theseus, i just pictured Peter getting the cat and voila. (No, there is no cat in there, but it would had been so funny) They were foils, Elias has a lonely cat and Peter a beholding one. They fall in love. I like that.

Thats all i can remember now. Nikola was always also a plot point, i mean who else would make androids but the puppet herself! Since ideally i intended for Elias to get a body, it was supposed to happen.

I went off, but i really did have a lot of ideas and scrapped ones that i figured no one would see. Im happy i could just leave them out to the world!!

So yes ask away, but as you can see, i sort of go off. Thanks for asking!!!! I hope its what you wanted. Sorry if it goes all over the place.

#ask #i went off im sorry #but seriously i had to scrap so many ideas #and adjust them later

[sailorshadzter]

in the darkness i was afraid, until i saw your light.

again, this is entirely because of @amymel86 & @orangeflavoryawp

you guys can expect a chapter two at SOME POINT lol

anyways here is a Jonsa au set where Rhaegar lives and Jon lives as the heir to the Iron Throne. 

i like to think of this jon as brooding & moody, prone to outbursts, but sansa will both calm him & push him in ways no one has ever pushed him before. dont ask me about a future plot because I DONT KNOW except i want them to angrily make out asap lmao 

OK HERE YOU GO. i hope you guys all enjoy! 

"We're going South."

Every face in the room swivels upwards, surprise written on every face that stares back at him. Ned Stark clears his throat, casting a quick glance to his lady wife who has already heard these words but a few days prior. "To King's Landing?" Robb, his oldest boy asks, his dark hair the only sign of his Stark lineage. Like all of his children, save for Arya, he looks more Tully than Stark, but he is as proud of them as only a father could be. "All of us?"

This is when Ned shakes his head, turning his eyes to his first born child, his son that will someday take over his role as Warden in the North. "Nay, not all of us." He turns towards his two daughters then, settled into their respective places across from one another. Sansa, his second born and oldest of his girls, stares back at him with her wide, Tully blue eyes. She is a young woman of seventeen, grown tall like a willow tree, with ivory features far too beautiful for the world in which they live. Arya is every bit different than her older sister, wild, like the wolves in the forest; she wears no gowns, she runs with the boys and swings a sword as well as the best man in Winterfell. He is as fiercely proud of her as he is Sansa, as he is all of his children. "Just Sansa," he says after a moment, turning his gaze to his oldest daughter, who's eyes widen with her surprise.

"Me?" She questions, a perfectly sculpted brow shooting upwards. "Why, father?"

Ned smiles, a smile which his three sons have been bestowed with, and nods. "I have heard word from Rhaegar Targaryen." Though he once fought against the Targaryen rule, Ned offered fealty to the new King of the Seven Kingdoms twenty something years ago when Lyanna begged it of him. His beloved little sister who died giving birth to her only child, a son that lives in King's Landing as the heir to Rhaegar's rule. "He finds it is high time that his son and heir marries." Something like recognition ripples across his daughter's face and she squares her shoulders with this new knowledge that rocks her. "He has proposed a bethrothal between Sansa and Aegon."

From where she sits, Sansa is silent, though her mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. Marriage, she thinks, to Aegon Targaryen? She has always known she would marry eventually, but she thought perhaps to Theon Greyjoy, heir to the Iron Islands, or perhaps even a Dornish prince, not the heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Though she believes in stories of love, stories of handsome, brave knights, she knows her duty is to her family. She will do as she's bid, of course, even if there was a part of her that has always longed to marry a man for love and little else. "Does the thought of becoming queen not please you, daughter?" Sansa blinks, realizing only then that her father has spoken to her. Rather than speak against him, she puts on a brave face, I am a Stark, so I can be brave, she thinks as she smiles radiantly for her father. And then she speaks:

"It pleases me, father."

[ x x x ]

King's Landing is nothing like the North.

Though, she supposes she should have known that already, she's surprised all the same. In the weeks leading up to their departure, her mother had ensured she was well prepared for both the journey and the meetings she would endure upon arrival. Everything else... Sansa knew. She knows to curtsy, to smile prettily. She knows how to play the high bells and even the harp, her voice soft and sweet enough to make even the roughest of men smile. Sansa knows how to please men in a court, she knows how to be a lady, she's been one since three.

But nothing in the world could truly prepare her for the man she is about to meet in the crown prince, Aegon Targaryen.

"This way," the man leading them speaks, bringing her from her thoughts. The touch of a hand to her elbow is her father's and she sucks in a breath, holding her head high as they face a set of double doors that lead them into the throne room. It is empty, thankfully, aside from the man that sits upon his throne and the younger man that stands just behind him, lurking as if he wishes to be anywhere else. Together, she and her father approach the dais, though he is the one to step all the way forward, bowing low to the King that sits before them.

"Welcome to King's Landing, Lord Stark." Rhaegar Targaryen speaks in a voice that is deeper than she anticipated, his silvery locks tied back with a sapphire ribbon that matches the doublet he wears. "I trust your journey went well." The king smiles but something tells Sansa it is not the most sincere of smiles.

"Aye, your grace, it did. King's Road is easy to travel at this time of the year." Ned replies, offering a smile of his own. Regardless of his feelings inside, this man was his king and if he were to truly leave his daughter in his keep, then he would have to play nice.

"Is this your daughter?" Rhaegar asks, his violet eyes suddenly falling upon the girl that stands behind Ned. "She is a beauty." He compliments, smiling for her. "Come closer, child. Let me look at you properly." He encourages and with the touch of her father's hand, she steps ahead of him and sinks into a low curtsy.

From where he stands, Jon watches the girl come forward; though his face did not betray his inner thoughts, he's mesmerized by the sight of her. Hair like the color of a sunset, crimson yet gold, a fiery twist that leaves him breathless. She's dressed in a gown of the lightest shade of blue, it's sweeping sleeves embroidered with the famed winter roses of Winterfell. It's a modest cut gown, quite unlike those worn in King's Landing, though he finds he likes it more for that reason alone. Her gaze flicks from his father to him and their eyes meet, suspending time around him. "Rise up child. Aegon, stop being so rude. Come greet our lovely guest." Rhaegar speaks and Jon stumbles, having forgotten there was even anyone else in the room besides her. Clearing his throat, Jon does as he's bid, stepping foward so he might bow to the young woman and her father below him. "You must excuse my son, Ned you would think he to be yours, with how brooding and moody he is."

Ned lets out a chuckle, though he knows what Rhaegar says is true. There is not a single trace of Targaryen in the boy, he is Stark through and through. He is Lyanna's son, looking more like Ned's own child than nephew. "He is like his mother in that." Ned says, which brings a small smile to the king's lips; he knows as well as anyone that his only living son is more like his mother than him. He is like Ned, in that fact, for Rhaegar has heard the rumors that all of his children but one favor their mother rather than him. "My youngest daughter, Arya, she is so like Lyanna you might think her to be hers, not mine." The men share a smile, mutual love for the long dead Lyanna Stark perhaps the only thing they truly have in common.

[ x x x ]

When she wakes in the morning, it's from a dream of wolves and laughter.

Though the images fade as she rises up from the bed, she cannot shake the strange sensation of familiarity from her mind. A maid comes in and helps her dress- the woman curtsies and speaks with her as the servants spoke to her own mother in Winterfell. Something felt strange about that, to be spoken to like a true lady, like something more than the daughter of a noble lord.

When she's dressed for the day and her hair plaited into braids, she slips from her rooms, intent on exploring the palace that's to become her home. Or so her father says. A sigh escapes her and she pushes thoughts of marriage and the future from her mind, rather she focuses upon her new surroundings. The Red Keep is noisy even so early in the morning, bustling about with servants and courtiers alike. Rhaegar Targaryen keeps a full court, though there is no queen to keep it orderly or enforce any sort of etiquette, so some say it feels more like a town brothel then a royal palace.

She takes her leave of the corridors and she steps out into the morning sunshine; it's far warmer here than in the North, even in summer. Her gown, though made more in a Southern fashion, still feels far too heavy for the heat. Now she understands why the women in King's Landing dress in silks and lawns and fine lace. Her footsteps lead her down stone steps and into a garden that stops her in her tracks. It's full of fresh, sweet smelling blooms in dozens of colors, dozens of styles. In fact, she's never before seen such a wide array of flowers and for a moment all she can do is swivel her gaze from left to right, taking in the sights all around her.

But then she's on the move, making her way to the first bush that grows flowers in the softest shade of pink. When she leans in, it's so she can inhale their sweet, but subtle scent, a smile spreading across her face as she makes her way to the next bush and then even another one after that. In the distance, she can hear the sound of a fountain running and she decides that once she sees this final shrub she approaches, she might take a walk towards it instead. And so she leans over the bush that's littered with tiny white flowers, their scent surprisingly strong for flowers so small.

From where he stands, Jon can't help but to watch her.

She's dressed in a gown of pale green, one which compliments her in a way that threatens to steal the very breath from his lungs. It is a gown of material unlike what they wear in King's Landing and he imagines her to be quite warm in it, despite the skin she dares expose. Unlike yesterday's blue gown, this one shows off her long, slender arms and when she turns her back to him, he can see it cuts low upon her back. Though he would very much enjoy watching her from afar, Jon finds his feet lead him in her direction, unable to help but wish to speak to her. And so... He does.

"They are nothing like the blue roses of Winterfell, eh?"

Jumping at the sound of the voice, Sansa spins around and finds herself face to face with the prince, who's Stark colored eyes are meeting hers without hesitation. "Prince Aegon," she greets softly, dipping him the appropriate curtsy for a man of his rank.

"I prefer to be called Jon," he snaps, wishing he could push away the thoughts of her beauty. He's thought of little else since meeting her only the evening before. "I mean... My father is the only one who calls me Aegon." He clarifies when she flinches as if struck, so he's softer this time, feeling somewhat remorseful for his sharp tone. "I have heard the roses bloom even in the winter." She's raising up from her curtsy and her blue-eyed stare is intense, so much so that for a moment he must cast his own gaze skyward.

"They do," she speaks softly, in a voice that reminds him of honey, sweet and slow. Her Northern accent is not so pronounced, not like her father's, and he attributes that to her strict, noble upbringing. He returns his eyes to her and finds she's smiling, her head tilting ever so slightly, which sends her red hair cascading across a shoulder. Yet again, he's stricken by the sight of it, wishing for a moment that he might reach out and touch it. He longs to know what it feels like against his fingertips. "My father says that even in the coldest of winters they've bloomed." She's smiling faintly, turning from him to reach out, gingerly brushing her fingers along the white petals of the blooms they stand before.

"They were my mother's favorite flowers." The prince speaks and Sansa turns back to face him, blue eyes sympathetic in their gaze. "Or so I've been told."

Sansa smiles, nodding her head. "They were," she confirms, thinking of the stories and memories her father has shared with her over the years. "My father says my younger sister Arya is quite like her, though only Arya is bold enough to refuse to wear gowns." Jon laughs at her words and she's surprised at how the sound warms her, fills her with a strange sense of happiness she can't really explain. "You look like her," she goes on, pinning him with those eyes of hers as she takes a single step closer. "You look like Arya and so you must look like your mother." It was true, there was not an ounce of Targaryen in him, though Jon could not say because up until these last two days, he's seen very little of his Stark family. Ned Stark made the rarest of trips South and Jon couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen his uncle in King's Landing.

For some reason though, hearing Sansa say such a thing brings a happiness to him that he's never felt before. "Would you like to see the fountain?" He asks, rather than thanking her for her words, trying his best to play his role as well as she. Jon isn't stupid and he knows his father plans to see the two of them wed- though he's always thought to marry a woman for love someday when he was king himself, he knows he must do as his father bids. Just as she does. "It is one of the best spots in all of King's Landing." The truth was... He spent quite a bit of time out there in the gardens, one of the only places he could find a moment to himself.

"That's where I thought to go next," she admits with a nod, falling into step beside him as they make their way down the path towards the center of the garden. "Wow," she murmurs as they approach the great stone fountain, it's height towering over the both of them. Water sparkles in the pool beneath and Jon watches as she leans over the edge to dip her ivory hand into the cool water, a smile curving on her rosy lips. Yet again, he finds himself enthralled by the sight of her, even more so in the bright summer sunlight. The South agrees with her, that is for certain. "It's beautiful," she says, straightening her spine and turning back to face the prince that stands beside her.

"It is..." Jon agrees, softly, unable to stop the words before they slip from his lips. As if she understands, her cheeks turn red as the roses that grow behind them and she turns away, staring up at the fountain as if it truly is the most interesting thing in the world around them. "I hope you enjoy your time here in King's Landing," he speaks finally, the only words he can bring himself to say in the aftermath of the ones from before. She turns to him then, blue eyes widening ever so slightly. But then she smiles a dazzling smile, a radiant sort of smile that sends shivers down his spine. For a single moment, he sees the future, one of gold crowns and howling wolves. One that is happy, despite it all.

"I think I might," she says after a moment and then Jon is smiling, too.

[ x x x ]

When she wakes the following morning, it is to a new handmaiden who is quick to smile at her lady, her brown eyes kind in her face. "Good morning, my lady," the woman says, turning from where she lays out Sansa's gown for that day. "My name is Shae," she continues, coming closer to the bed where Sansa now sits up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "The prince bid me to attend to you, if it pleases you." Sansa blinks, perhaps surprised, but she can't help but feel the draw to the woman. Shae has a face of someone she can trust, someone who would look out for her. She can't say how she knows, but Sansa knows Shae will be far more than just a handmaiden to her. "Ah, he also sent a gift," Shae says, reaching for what Sansa sees is a bolt of fabric in a beautiful shade of gray, a quality silk that she's never set her hands upon in all of her life.

For a moment, she's speechless.

Running her hands along the soft fabric, she sucks in a breath, already able to imagine the beautiful dress that she could make with such a fabric. She squeezes it against her chest, eyes closing as she reminds herself that this is in fact, real life. "Will you... Will you send him word of my thanks?" She asks her maiden, raising her gaze to meet Shae's as she slips from the bed, the bolt of silk still clutched to her chest. Shae is smiling when she nods, turning from her lady to do as she's been asked, wondering if the young woman knew what sort of face she wore when speaking of the prince. She can't help but to wonder what the brooding prince would say if he knew how soft and sweet his future bride looked when thinking of him.

Left alone in her chamber, Sansa gently sets the fabric aside and moves to the window that overlooks the city of King's Landing. Along the horizon, the sunrise is streaks of pink and red against the blue backdrop, though she notes it is not unlike the sunrise she's used to in the North. Perhaps... Living in the South would not be so bad.

Down in his own chamber, two floors beneath hers, Jon too stands at the window.

He watches the same sunrise as she, though fully dressed and prepared to escape the confines of his rooms. All night long he had dreamed of red hair and pale moonlight, of blood red leaves and bright blue eyes. Now that he's awake, Jon finds himself longing to be near her again, to talk to her, to feel the soft touch of her hand against his. He recalls his thoughts of only a few days prior, determined to hate yet another of the potential brides paraded before him. But there was something... Something far different about Sansa Stark that he couldn't quite understand.

But he wants to, he finds that he wants to know everything there is to know about her. He wants to know what makes her happy and even what makes her mad. Every little piece of her that she was willing to give to him, he wants, and he will accept. For better or for worse, he supposes, after all she was to be his bride in the end. And so he turns from the window and slips from his rooms, hoping his feet might just lead him to his destiny.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #actuallyjonsa #jonsa au #i live for the trope of angry boy falls immediately in love #my writing #i wrote this

[this-is-a-name-dont-worry]

TMA S2 E2/E42 - Grifter's Bone

let's go everyone

----

ok wow

did. did lee lost his ears to grifter's bone.

what the fuck.

yuck urgh dont like

maybe you should listen to mysterious man who certainly knows more than what he lets show

smart girl

wELL-

martin is too sweet for this world

jon is so paranoid :(

though, martin is indeed being suspicious with this letter

----

so, what do we have here? A mysterious musician (i can only assume the other guys in the band were some kind of puppets, with their description), who play a beautiful music who push people to kill each other, and then some kind of time and space travel fuckery happen

The comment about a flute and piper are really interesting. Of course you can remember the piper from season 1, but I think a lot about the story of the pied piper of hamelin.

This legend, for those who don't know, is about the town of Hamelin. The town was invaded by rats, when a piper arrived and offered his help in exchange of money.

The people accepted, and soon, the piper played a music on his flute that hypnotized all the rats, who left town to go drown in a nearby river.

When the piper asked for his money though, the townies refused to pay him. Played, the piper left town without his pay.

Some times later, at night, a melody on the flute is played. The children of the town all get up when hearing it, and leave their house, then the town, in a happy farandole on the music. They artive at a nearby river, and drown.

In this story, we have a piper who hypnotize people and animals to lead them to their death, and I wonder if here, the piper isn't hypnotizing people to fight.

What's interesting though, is how this Lee guy somehow survived. It seems that the music also lead to killing yourself once done, so why and how did lee got out of this? And how did the grifter's bone made himself be known in the first place, if everyone dies, and that by some mysterious magic, the brutal deaths are spread in time and space.

This episode also shows us more of jonathan's paranoia; he's doubting even his coworker, martin, now. And sure, boy appears to be hiding something, but jon was doubting him even before the letter, appatently.

What's funny is that while he should indeed doubt one of his colleagues, martin is not the one he should worry about.

#tma liveblog #tma #tma season 2 #the magnus archives

[corvuscorvidae]

for the characters ask! gerry keay!

gerry!

ok so 

 i love my dead gay goth son. he is great. one of my favorite charachters in the show. deserved better

 oh boy um. i think michael (both shelley and distortion) is pretty great. also jongerry and jongerrymartin is *chefs kiss*

he deserves FRIENDS. i think him and jon, and also he and melanie would be great friends. him and gertrudes banter is pretty good too

unpopular opinions hmmmm. if he hadnt died i dont think he wouldve just gone off to live peacefully (as much as i love those stories) because he did say that he tried that and couldnt do it

something i wish wouldve happened to him is just. a good life. eric takes gerry and doesnt get murdered and has a nice life and mary keay dies in a fire because i hate her

ask me about a charachter

#mine #asks #anon

[neverheardnothing]

black friday spoilers under cut!!! i’m serious!!!

aaaaaa im going to lose my SHIT

really im about to spoil the entire show

dont read if you havent seen it

oh my GOD OH MY GOD. PAUL. AND EMMA. THEYRE BACK. THEYRE BAKC.

AND THE FUCKING LA DEE DAH DAH DAY MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND IS BACK

PAULKINS. GOD. THEYRE ALIVE. AND FINE. IMGOING TO LOSE MY GODDAMN MIND!!!!!!!!!

“i dont like getting by cars anymore”  this is fucking hilarious why isnt ANYONE LAUGHING

“okay okay okay OKAY” ahhhh theyre really perfect for each other

“my buddy bill” hey im going to start crying.

:( this is so upsetting im so sad for this family.

DYLAN SOLO TIME. HIS VOICE. FUCK. 

“flash, bang, jane” oh my god oh my god i am on the FLOOR. this is HEARTBREAKING.

this song reminds me of inutil from in the heights fuck. im.

“family emergency” OKAY HIS WIFE DIED. DONT BE SO HARD ON HIM.

COREY SOLO COREY SOLO OH YEAH BOI

also they lit a fire on stage

corey’s character is SUCH AN ASSHOLE I LOVE IT HE’S THE PRIME DICKASS. oh my god wait hE’S MR KRABS

MALL SECURITY. ROBERT BEING A COP AGAIN.

ethan is a Look. the plaid around his waist AND the leather jacket oh my GOD.

oh my god the backing music in this moment is from the trailer. god. i love it.

CALIFOR MIA OHM Y OGD

OH MY GOD IT SOUNDS SO GOOD WITH THE FULL ORCHESTRATION

THE CHOREO WITH HANNAH IM CRYING

OH MY GOD THE HAMONIES. ROBERT. 

SMOKE CLUB. IM CRYING.

THE INTERLUDE WITH THE LETTER OH MY GOD IT’S SO GOOD.

BROKE! AS! SHIT!

smoke club hannah.

“that better be fucking floss. let’s go i want a cigarette”

“that’s illegal...... or it should be.” LMAO

WHAT DO  YOU SAY OHYEAH BOI

IT SOUNDS SO GOOD AS AN ENSEMBLE NUMBER AND ALL THE HARMONIES ARE IN

corey really is mr. krabs he’s even in red

GIVE US UR FUCKING MONEY

GIVE US UR FUCKING CASH

WHATEVER THE HELL JAIME IS MIMING IS SENDING ME

“and im in a hurry” A MAN IN A HURRY 

whatever the hell kind of accent is jon putting on i love it

SKDLFASL;DKSS JON “RIGHT IN T HE SUBPEONA” 

“three dollars” god that’s me

OH MY GOD THIS A BACKING BIT JEFF PUT ON HIS STORY

yES I AM LIVING SO FUCKING HARD

i think this is my favorite number so far

THE BEAT DROP GOES SO FUCKING HARD

jon and jeff strangling each other

this is SUCH A GOOD NUMBER AND THE CHOREOGRAPHY

JEFF AND JAMES HAVE REALLY OUTDONE THEMSELVES

GOD I CANNOT WAIT FOR THE CAST RECORDING

this is DEFINITELY the best song musically yet

THE MOTIF FROM SHWO ME YOUR HANDS YES OH MY GOD I LOVE IT

THE RECURRING THINGS FROM TGWDLM I AM LIVING FOR IT S O MUCH

hannah is such an archetype character so far i hope she gets like. More Character soon.

the melody for califor mia returns in the backing here ugh i love it

wow i wonder if these guys have fight call for all this shit

the “eeeeee” noise jon made i just laughed so hard

WAIT FUCK THE SAD PIANO CALIFOR MIA IS IN THE BACKGROUND

WTF ETHAN DIES HERE? WHAT THE FUCK. OH SHIT. FUCK!!!! the first death.

“GIVE ME THAT FUCKING DOLL IM IN A HURRY” OH MY GOD MAN IN A HURRY STRIKES BACK

are we down a tom already too?? jesus fuck i presumed all these characters would die but this is quick.

the reverb/echo on joey’s audio is So Spooky i love it

AHHH THE NEWS THEME BEEPS

the creepy carol of the bells backing music i love it

also is that a fucking barack obama impression

james patting the doll as they all argue is such a mood

OH MY GOD

MCNAMARA

OH MY GOD!!!

AMERICA IS GREAT AGAIN THEME IS BACK

I! AM! LIVING! FOR ALL THE TGWDLM MUSIC REPRISES.

PEIP BAYBEEEEEE. 

“just me and a few of my peeps” im fucknig losing it

GOD!!!!! THIS UNDERSCORING I CANNOT HANDLE IT.

intermission

THE NOT YOUR SEED MELODY ON AN ELECTRIC GUITAR

GOD IT SLAPS!!!!!

oh my god found the bit of choreography that looks like it was from the prom

also love the james lauren and robert solo dance number

the only starkids minus denise who can dance

the ensemble numbers in this show are so fucking good

also nice that tom survived. though like. probably not for long considering how this show is going.

tom: i killed my family

becky: yeah but remember us in high school?

did becky fucking kill her husband

LOL YEAH SHE DID

jesus christ what an admission

oof dylan and kim’s voices dont blend that well together and i think one of them is slightly flat on the belt harmonies

oh my god theyre going to fuck in this movie theater during the apocalypse christ almighty

oh hELL YEAH america is great again theme is playing again

“fuck that, fuck that, FUCK THAT!” mood

his face at “birth canal” is KILLING ME

im so ready for jon wiggly to show up i HOPE TO GOD ITS A FURSUIT

jaime is SUCH a good actress like legitimately

is wiggly going to be the new satan in this fandom oh god

this is like if everyone actually worshipped the duck in firebringer

“unless i get what i shit” lmaooooo

wow ok i legit wonder if they have fight call for all these lifts and fights that happen in the show

the demented califor mia underscoring right now i am Living

“well, webby is a stupid bitch!” lol i love this, though i dont love that theyre just using vulgar words as the punchline

the underscoring of dylan’s i want song in this conversation holy shit

space tour vibes with the helmet lmaoooo

“i cant be evil im a status quo democrat!” LMAOOOOOO

oh im finally getting that the streamers on the wall are also supposed to be like wiggly’s mouth

THE ELECTRIC GUITAR IS FUCKIN POWERFUL

UGH YES NOT YOUR SEED MELODY LINE FOR A SEC

o shit nuclear war with russia

“two doors not one” OHM Y GOD OK

FUCK MAN!!!!!!!!!

HANNAH!!!!!

the melody of “aliens invading minds” reoccurring is Killing Me i love it so much

“friday is black for me” oof

oh shit so both lex and hannah have some weird fucking interdimensional power???

this entire fucking show is SO fucking wild like i honestly dont know what to make of it

“THEYRE ALL INTO FORTNITE DUDE” LMAOOOOOOOO

it’s because all the adults are sad and jaded under capitalism lol

tom’s face this entire time is hilarious

dylan’s voice is literally heavenly oh my god

“should i move these boxes first?” cinematic parallels to the should i take this chair lol

“the hat falling off her head” lmaoooo

curt laughing

“is it some kind of joooooke???”

the yoga choreography i am LOSING MY SHIT

evil carol of the bells motif again!!

JAMES’ DEATH DROP UGH YES

lex set a fire and she burned down the mall!

oh man the “what if tomorrow comes” melody is playing and im crying

“WEAR A WATCH” OH MY GOD LMAOOO

also jon saying “what am i going to  dowithout my iphone” as a former apple store employee is hilarious

the callbacks to tgwdlm were hilarious

god this song is so fucking good

also robert being hot chocolate guy is hilarious

im so ready for nerdy prudes must die

kendall’s voice is so good oh my god

the harmonies im living jesus christ christ i wish they were sustained though there’s some silences between them which is a bit awkward

and this was only the digital ticket im sure they’ll sound MUCH better with the actual editing in picked from several performances and better on the cast recording. 

ok tbh i don’t know quite what to make of black friday yet i will have to rewatch a few times to Really Process it but i do know that there were some fucking BOPS in it. it kinda feels like a bit of a mess

angela did very well singing songs that were originally not written on her voice but u can also definitely tell. i really liked her califor mia but not so much when the song required her voice to be very strong.

and hey at least most of them didn’t die this time.

#teresa liveblogs stuff #black friday #black friday spoilers #sk