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reynie-muldoons · 3 years

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'The Dance of the Celestial Orb' liveblog!

for real this time lmfao

book and show spoilers below

I'm ✨nervous✨ please let our children be okay

0:10 this Sticky arc hurts me so kuch

1:35 this music is BUMPIN

2:22 I just wanna know how she got under there without the dude seeing her

2:47 "all systems go" for the Improvement.... yikes 😬😬😬

2:55 she didn't wait even 5 seconds after they left, the door was still closing when she popped up 😂 can you imagine if one of them doubled back right at that moment

3:18 they look like the dudes from that veggietales movie, I think it was Esther- the island of perpetual tickling?? Anyone??? 😂😂😂

4:00 Kate vented.......

4:51 "not a rat" yeah no shit

5:07 if not for the suspense, I would be jamming out lmaooo

6:10 Mr. Benedict is looking at the shoreline, is he about to watch Kate dive in???? Because I mean that's where she's gotta be going

6:20 "memory challenges"? Is Rhonda talking about Milligan's amnesia, or has short term memory been affected as well??

6:29 .....thank you for answering so efficiently 😂

6:42 "I buy it. I completely.... buy it." RHONDA THAT'S NOT HELPFUL AHSKSHDJKD

6:56 can you imagine seeing your friend go down in a sub then hours later seeing the sub float up in fucking PIECES

7:06 KATE! KATE! KATE! KATE!

7:06 please let it be reunion time

7:25 oh hello that's a drop

7:38 *to the tune of Bezos I* come on Katie u can do it pave the way put ur back into it

7:51 she craves that mineral

8:06 Sticky, my child

8:20 oh my gosh they went out and LOOKED FOR HER I care them 😭😭😭

8:23 SHE KNEW HIS DREAM SHE KNEW HIS DREAM TELEPATH TELEPATH TELEPATH

8:34 STICKY STOPPPP

8:40 "jumping to conclusions is a failure of character" wow that really is something Curtain would say

8:52 angry Reynie. He is in rare form

8:54 "and you helped put her there!" OOOOOOOH I SCREAMED

9:03 "I shouldn't have yelled" okay but you kinda should have Sticky needs a wake up call

9:06 "dont apologize. I like this side of you." IS THIS THE START OF REYNIE AND CONSTANCE HAVING THE BEST SIBLING RELATIONSHIP

9:22 "if you really cared about me, you'd want me to be happy instead of standing there telling me who I am" oh Sticky my dude I am NOT digging the manipulation

9:36 Reynie pulling out the BFF card!!! Also Reynie digging in his feet because he knows he's right!!!! That's great setup for his arc as a strategist later

9:48 "I'm telling you, Kate's fine." Narrator: Kate was not, in fact, fine.

10:03 "they'll notice." Sticky has made one (1) good point.

10:11 oh dear god are they fingerprinting this bitch

10:19 all this equipment, has no one walked up to the cliff and looked down???

10:23 HAHAHAHA WAIT THEY ACTUALLY HAVEN'T

10:27 "we've been out here all night" that means Kate has been clinging to a cliff by her fingers and toes ALL NIGHT????

11:04 babe I know it's been a long night but maybe wait a second for them to actually leave before you climb back up

11:15 BUCKET NO

11:22 she has to go get it. There's no way someone wouldn't find that shit, it's in plain view

11:37 "WAS"???? WHY ARE WE SAYING WAS????? NO PAST TENSE HERE MILLIGAN'S FINE

11:43 "I only wish we could've known him better" NOOOPE NONONO WE'RE NOT DOING THIS

11:47 Rhonda back at it as the voice of reason!!!!!

11:59 "I have never met a more competent swimmer" throwback to "the baaAAAYYYY"

12:10 MR. BENEDICT'S FACE HAHAHAHA HOLD ON LET ME TAKE A PICTURE IM DYING

12:11 NUMBER TWO, NOT HELPING

12:14 RHONDA'S FACE HAHENDJDKDN

12:33 "we will go rescue him" because of COURSE he would

12:36 Rhonda is his best wingwoman omfg she's so consistent

12:54 MISS PERUMAL??????

12:56 MISS PERUMAL!!!!!!

13:00 SHE KNOWS HE'S RIGHT GAKSHDBDHEKSNND

13:09 "how hard can it be? It's an island!" PFFFFT

13:16 oh SQ baby boy please get out of there

13:25 "I certainly have my own suspicions" he said, looking at SQ why are you looking at SQ like that

13:31 SQ GET OUT OF THERE PLEASE IS2G

13:36 here we fuckin go

13:43 the captions have the f in forest capitalized like it's this special place

13:43 new hc that the Forest is a magical place like pixie hollow

13:57 TWO THINGS: 1. YES stand up for yourself baby!!!! 2. Shepard Quaid? Interesting! I don't think we ever got SQ's full name in the books, I hope TLS made that decision!

14:08 your "father hat"??? Oh my gosh shut the fuck up right there don't even continue

14:16 oh yeah real fuckin cute put on your "steward of this institution hat" and call that a good reason to be a shit person

14:43 "No." GOOD FOR HIMMMM GOOD JOB SQ

15:03 Kate's struggling right by the shore where a certain someone would be returning after a very hard swim, it would be a great time for a meeting wouldn't you think

15:09 KATE THE GREAT

15:11 "THE TRAPESE GODDESS" I WILL REFER TO HER AS NOTHING ELSE

15:26 sorry but that green screen of her falling was kinda funny

15:28 soooooo is someone, a very certain someone, gonna catch her...??????

15:36 YEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

15:43 IS THIS IT????@?@?!?

15:46 awww poor baby girl you can tell how tired she is

15:46 just putting this out there- they look so good in frame together

15:46 the actor who plays Milligan is fucking huge in stature so I wasn't sure how that would go but it looks so good

16:00 THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT HER WITH HIS HAND ON HER SHOULDER I CANT DO THISSSSS

16:20 "keep going." 😭😭😭😭😭

16:23 "you dont understand." Ohhhh I think he does

16:25 "I think I do." What did I tell you, he's got your back babygirl

16:45 I'm so glad she's talking this out, and with Milligan of all people

17:01 it makes so much sense for Kate to feel alone in that situation, and when Kate feels anything less than positive she goes and does something, whatever that something is.

17:05 "So.. I...." "fell off a cliff and nearly died." Thanks for putting things into perspective Milligan

17:05 Milligan is such a good dad stop

17:19 "most of the way" is an understatement LMFAO

17:29 I'm so glad we know the intimate details of Milligan's illustrious swimming abilities 😂 out of all the new things wfrom the show that one wasnt on my radar

17:52 leave it to Milligan to come up with an escape plan off of an island with no water vessel with four kids in tow

18:08 THEYRE SO CUTE 😭😭😭😭

18:08 lowkey I'm super surprised they didnt take this opportunity to have Milligan's arduous swim force his memories out and have the father daughter bonding time they deserve. I hope they give that moment ample time to flesh out.

18:13 BUCKET!!!

18:13 wait that shot is so artsy hold up lmfao

18:13 this looks like someone's photography final hahahaha

18:26 THE TENDER MUSIC STOPPPP 😭😭😭

18:41 Sticky is still on that jumping to conclusions bs he got from Curtain

18:44 WETHERALL'S WIDGET 😭

19:31 "Kate... she's in danger..." NO SHIT SHERLOCK

19:36 "and it's all because of me." Not just because of you but love to see you taking responsibility

19:52 once again I am asking WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THIS IN THE OPEN

20:26 "Kate. She has changed." "Not really. She's always been who she is." "Her clothes. She changed clothes." PFFFT HAHHAHA they really took a moment of self-reflection and made it so much better

20:55 AYYYYY KATE'S DEPENDENCY ARC CONTINUESSSSS

21:35 yikes yikes yikes

22:16 I love that Mr. Benedict got closure in telling Miss Perumal that her words stuck with him

22:40 the way she just knows Reynie took the position of leader 😭😭

22:54 SHE WROTE HIM A LETTERRR

23:02 "Would it be possible to get this to him?" Ma'am what part of undercover spy don't you get

23:54 it's still really weird that we are now in a position where Reynie is the one who is not trusted and Sticky is the one in Curtain's favor

24:13 and here we see Curtain's thinly veiled anger issues shining through

24:21 "the little things matter. Every minor detail, it all matters!" CALLBACK TO MR. BENEDICT TELLING THE CHILDREN THAT THEY ALL MATTER

24:55 "I can tell with complete accuracy when a person is lying." first of all, no. second of all, I cannot wait for him to talk to Constance.

26:33 why is Mr. Benedict graphically explaining the children's potential trauma so funny to me

26:40 "you're catastrophizing." "Yes. I am. Quite severely. Thank you." WHY IS THIS FUNNY

26:58 MADGE!!!!

27:16 she's so prettyyyyy

27:33 GOOD JOB MADGE!!!!!

27:36 wait did she just take the LETTER??? she's delivering the LETTER?????

28:05 WHAT DOES "OKAY FINE" MEAN??? REYNIE??????

28:22 it's sad because it's true 🥺

28:24 "I miss my teacher from the orphanage" the best lies are the ones rooted in truth 🥺🥺🥺

28:48 roll credits

29:16 Reynie honey Orion's Belt isn't on the ceiling

29:29 the way he was so confident that he had it right 😑 Curtain Stop Being a Pretentious Fuck challenge

29:52 our babygirl is so smartttt

29:55 did Milligan plant his prints 😳 oh no OH NO

29:57 MARTINA???? WHATSUEJHDKD

29:57 is this the replacement for when they pin cheating on her????

30:03 THE KEY CARD!!!!

30:11 MADGEEEE

30:21 "one attacked me as a small child" honey you are a small child

30:24 "it did not win," she said, smiling menacingly

30:40 "so we dance again" WHY DID THE MUSIC REV UP WHEN SHE SAID THAT HAHAHAHA

31:01 ✨woodworking is a passion✨

31:58 "was it functional?" "Well I guess that depends on how you define functionality" RHONDA'S FACE IN THE BACKGROUND HAHAHAHA

32:10 OH HEY MARTINA

32:17 wait 🥺

32:22 that has to be SQ :)

32:28 hi sweet boy

32:34 please tell me they did that shot of the sandwich because Madge is about to take it

32:39 LMFAOOOOO

32:44 hi good girl!!! Enjoy your snackies

32:50 oh god oh no the LETTER

33:25 oh wow we're doing this NOW??

33:52 and here we see another example of Curtain's thinly veiled anger issues bubbling to the surface

34:10 hey what if you uhhh weren't such an asshole

34:33 that man's voice is buttery

34:52 REYNIE'S TRYING TO TELL SQ????

35:02 and they're talking about this right in front of the office door, WHY??

35:24 AND THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT THIS RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE OFFICE DOOR, WHY????

35:55 he's letting him go 🥺🥺🥺🥺

36:14 why does that look like a body bag

36:17 oh my gosh it definitely is a body bag, hey Martina

36:25 yep, that's about what I expected

36:36 "whoever did this to me, they're gonna pay" oh girl do I have some bad news for you

37:12 ahhhh, so Martina is the burnt out gifted kid who keeps going out of spite and sheer force of will

37:12 everything makes much more sense now

37:30 ohhhhh my gosh feelings time

37:44 "I think it's awesome." "Yeah. I know you do." THE SHIPPERS ARE THRIVING

37:54 THEY REALLY WANT TO MAKE THIS AS PAINFUL AS POSSIBLE HUH

38:10 "it's the least I can do" that's an understatement 😬

38:14 AAWWWWW SHKSHSLSBDK

38:20 "I don't know what I'd do without you, Wetherall" STOPPPPP

38:30 HEY BUD UH MAYBE CLOSE YOUR DOOR???

38:38 he's been writing letters to her every night and now he finally gets one back 😭😭

39:34 so Miss Perumal wrote this letter with the intention of it being sent to him, right- why did she write it like that?? 😂

39:34 they've gone to such lengths to communicate in code but the letter kind of undermines that- it was written in such a way that an onlooker would know Reynie was a spy but wouldn't know what he was doing or why. No wonder SQ was pissed

39:41 KATE!!

40:10 BREAKING NEWS: local bastard man treats everyone like shit

40:15 ohhhhh SQ bud please be careful

40:30 "always have time for my son," he said in a clipped voice that implied that he does not have time for his son

40:35 ohhh he's getting RIGHT INTO IT HUH

40:41 you mean to tell me he's never asked about Mr. Curtain's work?? Ever???? Somehow that doesn't seem right to me

40:57 hey uh what if you didn't talk down to SQ at every opportunity

41:02 "would you care to reconsider that answer, son?" "No." DIG THOSE HEELS IN SQ!!!!

41:22 I'm really not digging that Curtain is using the guise of openly expressing his feelings to communicate his anger and his unasked question. Not cool bitch head

41:33 the fact that he didn't answer SQ's spoken question kind of also answers his unspoken question

41:45 "I knew there was something off about that girl. But espionage?" "How do you so convincingly fake a tetherball obsession?" I love that this entire conversation could be about Martina or Kate interchangeably

42:34 WELL THAT'S NOT GOOD

42:36 IF IT WAS THAT EASY TO FIND WITH BINOCULARS HOW HAD THEY NOT BEEN SPOTTED UP UNTIL THIS POINT?!!?#? HOW????

43:05 Kate advocating for Martina with the Society 🥺🥺 the interaction I didn't know I needed

43:58 "I definitely don't like to leave anything unfinished." "That's true, I've seen you eat." PFFFFT

44:05 YESS YOU GO STICKY USE YOUR ACCESS FOR PRIME INTEL

44:19 "well, you can't succeed without me, so..." baby girl you have no idea how right you are

44:28 please let that be Milligan PLEASE LET THAT BE MILLIGAN

44:32 YEAAAAAHHHHH

44:35 I simply adore him

44:45 "would you mind helping me down, please? I'm stuck." Your honor I would die for this man

44:54 oh shit, Martina's tryna sleuth it out herself.. this can't end well

45:04 is she about to find Kate's marbles or something?? Callback to the book?

45:26 the absolute MURDER in her eyes

45:31 FUCKIN YIKES

45:41 "the clothes of someone who had given up" ASEJDGEIDNDLFK

45:47 well that's not good

46:00 WELL THAT'S NOT GOOD

46:04 PLEASE let them be on their way already, please

46:14 THEY MADE A BLIMP????

46:17 Goodyear is QUAKING

46:35 why the fuck is Number Two in red, that's upsetting on principle

THEYRE JUST ENDING IT THERE???? goddamnit!!!!

How surreal is it that next week is the finale?? Idk if I'm ready for that????

#mbs disney+#mbs liveblog #the dance of the celestial orb #the mysterious benedict society #charity's talkies

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jaxsteamblog · 3 years

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I’ll Save You from the Pirates

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

Katara made sure everything was zipped and buttoned before stepping out of the small control building. She was grateful for the early morning survey trip; being in the South Pole brought in a lot of things too close for comfort.

The village she had selected for the initial drilling was on the northern side of the mountains watched over her childhood. On an especially clear day in summer, it was possible to see the far distant peaks of the Air Nation archipelago.

Or else, that’s what she assumed those smudges on the horizon were.

Shaking her head, Katara forced a smile at the workers waiting for her at the dock. She assumed she had a touch of midnight sun sickness, since her body was used to the perpetual darkness of the northern winter at the moment. Even with the new simulated nighttime, Katara was not adjusting as quickly as she had hoped.

It made her head feel like a balloon despite her body feeling sluggish.

“Shall we?” Katara asked, looking from man to man. They were unfamiliar to her, but so were many of the people she met in the South Pole.

The only time she had ever left her village was the once. And she hadn’t properly returned from that trip.

A lifetime ago, Katara had stepped onto a different sort of rickety boat. This one was made of metal, required some sort of crew to operate, and was probably more likely to survive a squall in the open ocean.

But her head still rocked violently when she was fully onboard.

“Gum, Majesty?” One of the men offered. Katara smiled in a closed lipped, queasy sort of way. Taking the thin rectangle of foil, her fingertips felt numb while unwrapping it. The gum was a pale pink, like the meat of any arctic fish.

That image didn’t help her head.

Her jaw worked slowly, feeling the gum nearly disintegrate between her teeth. The flavor was odd, but there was enough mint to calm her a bit.

Sitting on a box of supplies, Katara looked over the edge as the ship pulled away from the dock. The Beifong representative had been complaining of pirates for weeks. Small, quick boats that harassed their supply ships. Usually the attacks were pointless; the expensive equipment had been installed months ago. But medical supplies, shelf stable food, and other minor sundries were beginning to add up on the list of pirated goods.

Fire Nation engineers weren’t bothered by the pirates. Many of them were former military and were not at all subtle over their wish to interact with sea bandits.

Not to be inferred as wanting to fight Water Tribals of course, your Highness.

They were a congenial sort, in their own way.

As they continued on, Katara rubbed her eyes. A migraine was building at her forehead and she called up the cold water to attempt to heal it.

The brain was tricky, and sometimes she had trouble healing herself as she often didn’t think it was bad enough to worry over. Pressure pounded, but the pain stayed as that cloudy prophecy of worse to come.

In her mouth, the gum quickly lost its flavor, so Katara spat out the wad into her palm. The pink was long gone, and the wrinkled gray lump looked foul.

“What even was that?” She muttered and turned around. The man who offered her the gum was standing next to her, a bag in his hands.

Thinking it was trash, Katara moved to shake out the used gum.

The bag went over her head.

When she came to, the sun was setting. This meant two things: that she had been unconscious for a very long time and that they were no longer in South Pole waters.

And noting that she was also in a straight jacket, bound to a tree, Katara figured she was in the Earth Kingdom.

The pirates, as she assumed them to be, were near enough by that Katara could see them at their small fire. The light faded before it got to her, and so she couldn’t make out faces or words.

Looking around, and trying to shift into a comfortable position, Katara knew she was in the woods and far from the ocean. The straight jacket kept her arms and hands from bending, and her legs were shackled tightly together.

Rohan had told her stories about how the late King Bumi could earthbend by wriggling his eyebrows, but Katara wasn’t that skilled. Yet.

Sighing, Katara looked back at the fire.

Historical pirates had been her people, but they were effectively wiped out during the war. Airbender Bumi had created his Sky Pirates, and now they had been replaced by Earth Kingdom citizens. A counterclockwise Avatar cycle.

Bound and still feeling sick, the night air was at least steadying her senses. But she really didn’t know what to do next.

And yet, she really didn’t feel the need to plan. The situation almost made her feel calm. It took the sudden figure behind her to tell her why.

“I’ll save you from the pirates.” A soft voice whispered into her ear.

Katara snorted, turning it into a sneeze in case she was overheard. She was, and one of the pirates got up to investigate.

“Oh no. A ruffian approaches. Whatever shall I do.” Katara said robotically.

The man frowned as he neared.

“Don’t think of calling for help.” He said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Katara replied and smiled broadly.

“You think something’s funny? I’d like to see you try your bending now.” He said.

“Neither of us needs bending to kick your ass.” The shadowed man said.

The pirate straightened just as the hilt of a sword smashed into the side of his head. The man collapsed as his assailant moved into the dusky light.

The blue oni mask sent electricity through Katara’s veins.

“Let me help you out.” Zuko said, crouching next to her and slicing through the straps.

“You might want to focus on them.” Katara said, wiggling out of the restraint.

Zuko stood and turned, separating his dual swords and rotating his wrists to loosen them.

“Be right back my love.” He said and darted forward.

Katara watched as closely as she could, shoulder off the straightjacket. Zuko moved quickly, as he always did, and many of the pirates were unable to even reach their guns. Those that did nearly lost a hand before Zuko knocked them prone.

To her surprise, there was an actual Earthbender among the group and Katara wondered if she should intervene. She was working on the shackles on her ankles when the cannonball of earth slammed Zuko into a tree. But the Blue Spirit leapt back onto his feet and kicked debris into the Bender’s face. By the time Katara snapped off the frozen metal, the Bender was face down on the ground.

Zuko paused to put out the small fires made when he kicked their cook fire before walking back to Katara. He held out his hand to help her up and she dusted off the back of her pants as he sheathed his unified sword.

“How did you get here so quickly?” She asked.

“Sokka helped.” He explained.

“But this?” Katara questioned, gesturing to his costume.

“I had plans.”

“Plans?” She stepped in close, running her fingers along the edge of his mask. “Did it involve a veil?”

“For you it involved only veils.” He answered, putting a warm hand on her lower back.

“KATARA!” A man’s voice bellowed and they jumped apart.

“My dad?” Katara choked out.

“It would make sense that others would be responding to this incident, yes.” Zuko said stoically, like he was also just realizing this.

“You need to go.” She hissed, shoving at Zuko’s side.

“Where?” He whispered back. “I don’t really know where I am!”

“KATARA!” Hakoda called again, much closer now.

“They can’t see you! You’re a wanted man!” Katara continued to shove, but Zuko didn’t move.

“My boat is that way!” He said, pointing past her to where Hakoda’s voice had come.

“KATARA!” Hakoda sounded desperate, and it actually raked at Katara.

“You have to get-” She stopped as she heard multiple people run into the clearing.

“GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!” Hakoda yelled. Katara turned, spreading her arms wide.

“He saved me dad!” She yelled back.

Hakoda halted and looked around. Seeing the very recent carnage, Hakoda made quick gestures. The others with him ran forward, securing the unconscious pirates.

“Who are you?” Hakoda asked cautiously, walking slowly up to them.

“This is the Blue Spirit. I’ve actually met him before, during the war.” Katara explained haltingly. She lowered her arms and glanced upward. “He’s….mute?”

“Well then.” Hakoda was awkward and his words were just as fumbled. “Thank you.”

He then made a sort of pained face, tilting his head slightly. “Are you really a spirit?”

“Probably not.” Katara said and heard Zuko huff behind his mask.

“At least, the Fire Nation thinks he’s just some traitor.” She added.

“I haven’t much cared for the opinion of the Fire Nation.” Hakoda muttered and Katara frowned.

“But I thank you for rescuing my daughter.” He continued. “Man or not, I must thank you properly for your help. It’s my duty as a chief, and a father.”

As Katara started to protest, Zuko moved from behind her and bowed. It was a modified gesture from the typical Fire Nation salute. It was meant to show respect to other nations.

“Great, now we can see what a spirit eats.” Katara growled, her jaw clenched.

“You know, we should hope he is a spirit.” Hakoda said as they started to walk in the direction Katara assumed the boats had moored.

“Why’s that?” Katara asked in exasperation, knowing Zuko would want to ask himself.

“You said you’ve met before. I don’t think the Fire Lord would appreciate the competition.” Hakoda finished.

Zuko huffed again and Katara sighed.

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#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #modern au #the fic that prompts built #zutara month 2021

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turtle-paced · 4 years

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GoT Re-Watch: Fine-Toothed Comb Edition

This post is also available on my wordpress.

All right. We know what this episode is. We know what we’re digging into here. Only one more recap to go after this one…

8.05 – The Bells

(1:59) We open the episode with a bit of mild treason. Someone (Varys) is spilling the beans about Jon’s parentage.

(2:35) This isn’t spelled out in so many words, but the strong implication here is that Varys sent this little kid to go poison Dany. This didn’t come out of nowhere, but boy did it ever escalate quickly. Make one decision Varys disagrees with, even when he’s got no good alternatives, and bam you’re up for assassination.

Note how Varys’ actions here aren’t given much scrutiny. This is because it would reveal the hypocrisy in a second flat. When Varys says the ends justify the means, the narrative is silent. When Dany says the ends justify the means, the narrative goes out of its way to demonise her. I don’t believe the ends justify the means, but there is a fundamental lack of consistency here.

(3:52) Not to mention the goddamned fucking nerve of portraying Dany’s refusal to accept food as evidence that her mental state is deteriorating, when the show not one minute ago established that her food was poisoned. It’s the famous question – is it paranoia when they really are out to get you?

This is not a case of Dany harbouring the irrational and unfounded belief that her breakfast will coagulate into the Dread Brunchmonster and devour her. Given that Dany’s soldiers are watching the poisoner, this appears to be a case of Dany forming the belief that someone is trying to poison her and being justified in her belief. I gotta say, looking at the evidence and coming up with an accurate conclusion based on that evidence does not support narrative contentions of irrationality.

Unfortunately for Dany, the narrative’s out to get her as well. She cannot win. Eat the poisoned food and die, refuse the poisoned food and have Varys imply damaging things about her mental state.

(4:37) Varys is committing all the treason in his last scenes. This is the worst of the lot, in the sense that he’s soliciting Dany’s #1 fan for a coup on an open beach in plain view of her Hand, who knows that Varys can now be counted a political enemy. Square character pegs, round plot holes. Was Varys ever established to be this incompetent? But we’re getting close to the end here and he needs to die, so bye!

Notice also the competence flip. Varys is trying to do “the right thing,” so he sucks at it. Much like Jon’s ineffectual when he tries to do the right thing. Hell, pick a Stark, any Stark, and they were probably ineffectual when they tried to do the right thing. Compare Euron, who’s only out to kick shit down, and succeeds when he’s got no right to because he’s doing a shitty, plot-convenient thing. Now Dany’s in that Euron zone. She’s effortlessly detecting Varys’ treason because the narrative has decided she’s a bad guy now. We’ll get back to this when the fighting starts.

(5:19) If I was tempted to count one thing this season, one thing, it would be how many times Jon says “she’s my queen” or variation.

(6:03) We track Tyrion into this scene. It becomes quite noticeable at this point that we aren’t seeing much from Dany’s PoV, but approach her actions from the viewpoint of the men around her. We don’t get insight into why Dany thinks someone’s betrayed her or her emotional reaction to coming to this conclusion, we only get the scenes of Varys (absolutely positively 100% justifiably, for certain) betraying her, and Tyrion approaching her with the news. Keep that in mind for later.

It’s also worth mentioning the weather flip. Last season Dragonstone was perpetually sunny. Now it’s gone back to Stannis-in-charge weather.

(6:11) Oh my god! She’s not perfectly groomed! Flee for your lives, people, if she can leave her hair unbrushed she’s capable of anything!

Now, not taking care of your appearance and hygiene can be an indicator that someone’s got some mental issues going on. Depression, pretty commonly. But to understate the issue just a bit, depression does not automatically translate into mass murder. Not all mental disorders are the same. And sure as shit not all people with mental disorders are violent. Most aren’t. Nor is this a careful depiction of a character struggling with mental illness that does result in violent tendencies. This is just flat out crazy = violent, “madness” striking out of a clear blue sky because the writers said so.

(6:57) So, basically, this game of telephone worked exactly like Dany thought it would, for the exactly reasons she thought it would. Dany’s relationship with reality is still going strong.

Dany’s “madness,” right now, is basically the fact that she’s upset over being betrayed, and grieving and angry after recently witnessing the violent deaths of two close friends. The emotional reaction to this doesn’t even look disproportionate. The narrative is Very Concerned that Dany is crazy…but all they’ve shown us is a woman going through a real rough time.

Equating a woman experiencing turbulent emotions with insanity is sexist as fuck and does no favours for people experiencing mental illness, either. Hysterical women! They cannot be trusted to lead.

Mind you, it’s not an improvement when the writers apparently drop the insanity angle just as abruptly as they introduced it. Problems for later!

(7:44) “She trusted you to spread secrets that could destroy your own queen.” Now this, this isn’t so well-supported. Sansa hasn’t spent much time with Tyrion in season eight, and as far as we can tell, never observed his relationship with Varys. She’s been in the same scenes with them, but I think she’s only heard them exchange one line of dialogue, in a group setting. Why would Sansa think that Tyrion would immediately tell Varys without clearing it with Dany? Why would Dany think that Sansa would do this? (Undermine her in a general sense, yes, Dany’s got good reasons for suspecting that. Undermining her in this specific way…not so much.)

This, I think, is a case of the writers not keeping track of which characters have seen which interactions. Resulting in all characters knowing all the same things about their relationships.

If you’re going to hinge plot developments on this sort of thing, you have to set it up. If Sansa’s machinations are the starting point of the rumours about Jon’s parentage, leading to actual betrayals of Dany, you have to show how that plan worked. (See also: Littlefinger’s downfall.)

(9:25) It may have come about for stupid reasons, but Varys’ arrest is, I think, nicely understated. No dialogue, just Gray Worm entering Varys’ room with shackles.

(10:31) Varys nods his acceptance that Tyrion told on him to Dany. Seriously, though, what even was Varys’ plotting this episode? Show!Ned could have given him a few pointers.

Then he gets a few lines about how he hopes that he’s wrong about Dany, because Varys enlisting a small child into his assassination plot was only for the best. His desire for a better world was right and noble, despite the fact he was willing to use violence and treachery to achieve his ends. (Don’t think about it too much, okay?) Jon and Tyrion are clearly in denial over Dany’s mental decline.

(12:12) And that’s the end of Varys. Didn’t take long. Varys had to lose a lot of competence very quickly to enable that loose end to be wrapped up so quickly.

(12:58) This is a scene from Dany’s PoV, inviting the viewer to share her grief over Missandei’s death. I think this might actually be the last scene we get from Dany’s PoV.

(14:24) “This was a victory for [Sansa].” What’s also apparent at the end of the series is that we’re now at a point where we’ve got reasonable men trying to work together, and women pit against each other at every side. The surviving male protagonists have cordial relationships with each other, by and large – and the surviving female progatonists hate each other, by and large. The surviving female protagonists identify the other female protagonists as threats. The exception here is Sansa and Arya, but remember season seven? Oh boy, I sure do.

Forget the question of who’s more at fault for the Dany-Sansa conflict, because the answer is “the writers.” They’re the ones who can’t imagine that Dany and Sansa might be able to talk out their problems honestly, even if they don’t like each other, distinguishing each from Cersei’s inability to collaborate.

Again, for clarity – the problem isn’t that female characters are in conflict, the problem is that the majority of the female characters are in conflict, almost exclusively with other female characters, where the men are talking about their problems reasonably.

(15:56) Doubling down on completely awful ideas (yes, the bad ideas are increasing exponentially), we’re back to the idea that Dany is sad/insane over the fact that nobody loves her, and Jon’s romantic rejection furthers her mental decline and determination to kill her way to the top.

This is just…completely awful.

First, there’s the fact that Dany’s inability to win love in Westeros is a massive plot contrivance. Why hasn’t this character been able to gain affection? Because the writers haven’t been allowing the consequences of Cersei’s actions to play out (you know, the ones from the time she blew up the Sept of Baelor and murdered a lot of very popular political figures), making Dany look worse in comparison. Also because xenophobia, which for some reason the narrative is now actively supporting.

Second, after all the traumatic bullshit this character’s been through, it’s romantic rejection that sends her over the edge? Seriously? Rejection sucks, but come the fuck on. Is Dany going literally insane over rejection remotely in character, from what we’ve seen of her over the course of the seven previous seasons?

Thus far the dragon queen has needed a man like a fish needs a bicycle. This is flippin’ insulting.

Oh and it’s bad writing for Jon because we still don’t have the info that he’s squicked out by Dany being his aunt. No insight into his identity crisis whatsoever.

(16:07) We’re having the same argument yet again. We’ve been having this argument off and on for two seasons. Yes, Dany assaulting the city will cause a lot of casualties. This is bad. In-universe, however, the people who’ve been advocating for not assaulting the city directly have had their chance, and they failed. Dany gave their ideas a shot and they didn’t work. So what’s the greater evil here? Assaulting the city directly, or leaving Cersei in charge?

Note that the showrunners have ceased to talk about or show what makes Cersei in charge such a colossally bad idea in general. We’ve seen her actions against Dany, and they were bad, but we haven’t seen her going out and oppressing the population for a few seasons now. We get a line about the consequences of resisting Cersei, but when we’re told and not shown, this doesn’t have the same impact. We cannot even establish that this happened. Could’ve used a scene of that, instead of that garbage with Euron. Plus, over the course of the series, Tyrion has been quite consistently wrong about how willing his sister is to use violence and when she’s willing to use it.

Furthermore, we’ve got some double standards here! I know, I’m as surprised as you are. Dany is proposing a plan that will cause a lot of casualties, and this is used as justification for the men around her thinking she’s unfit to rule. When the series’ male leaders proposed and enacted plans that would kill a lot of people – including Tyrion, defending King’s Landing against Stannis! – that was not used to determine their fitness. Fitness for leadership was judged on other qualities.

(16:17) “You can’t expect them to be heroes, they’re hostages,” says Tyrion, apparently forgetting that his earlier advice to Dany relied on the people of King’s Landing rising up against Cersei.

(16:47) Now we’re turning a long-term argument, i.e. leaving Cersei in charge will cause more deaths over the long run than assaulting King’s Landing will in the short term (keeping in mind just who blew up the Sept of Baelor), into further evidence of Dany’s insanity and/or evil. You can think what you like about this argument, but it’s not an unreasonable argument to explore.

The showrunners have posed us a nasty ethical and moral problem in this plot. As wars tend to throw up. The only thing they seem to have to say about solutions, though, is “not this way.” Worse, they’re not actually addressing the counter-arguments, and basically going for the ad hom “but Dany is crazy and/or evil” instead.

(16:58) “If the city surrenders, they will ring the bells and raise the gates.” Continuity alert: back in S2, it was said outright that bells =/= surrender.

(18:04) Just establishing Jaime’s offscreen teleportation.

(18:14) Another undeniably crazy and/or evil moment from Dany: she puts Tyrion on a performance improvement plan. The madwoman. It’s not like he’s failed her before!

Oh, wait. He’s barely done anything but fail her.

(18:31) Scenes of overwhelmingly white civilians (over the course of the episode, I did spot a few people of colour amongst the King’s Landing extras), complete with vulnerable young children, continue pouring through the gates of King’s Landing. And yes, I do have to mention that they’re overwhelmingly white, given the subsequent depiction of Dany’s loyalist armies, who are overwhelmingly people of colour. We’ll talk about that then, when we’re fully dealing with Dany as a villain.

(19:54) Exhibit…what are we up to? I lost count…in “the writers kinda forgot Tyrion’s orders directly led to the death of Davos’ son, and they both know this.” Davos is fucking committing treason for Tyrion now.

(20:11) Oh, god, it’s Arya and Sandor encountering a nameless guard. This is going to be “witty,” isn’t it? Much like the writers have no way for Tyrion to elicit character-sensitive information but drinking games, they’ve got no way for Arya and Sandor to prove their likeability except random encounters with guards.

(21:15) Show!Tyrion’s shithouse Valyrian is basically Bella Swan’s clumsiness. It’s an endearing flaw that’s meant to show they aren’t perfect – but in its shallowness only shows that as conceived, this character was not given enough real flaws.

(22:24) Just confirming that Jaime’s here for Cersei, even believing her cause to be utterly futile. I really hope nobody was invested in Jaime/Brienne, because that’s just fucking brutal.

(22:36) Convince Cersei to change her course of action? To recap, Cersei’s lied about sending people north to help fight the zombie army, hired someone to kill the pair of these dunces, and rejected Dany’s most recent offer of peaceful surrender by murdering her BFF in front of her. Given the slightest opportunity to screw Team Let’s Not Get Turned Into Zombies over, she has screwed them over. What grounds do any of these characters have to think they’ve got even half a chance to convince her that this time, this time, she should really not screw them over? Fourthtime lucky?

At least Jaime’s got the excuse of a self-destructive co-dependent relationship. Tyrion’s just throwing Jaime’s life away here.

(22:49) “To be honest, I never really cared much for [the civilians of King’s Landing].” If it weren’t for, you know, the other thing, this might have been the worst characterisation thing this season and this series. This blatantly does not accord with the Jaime we saw develop over the course of season three. The reveal that Jaime gave up whatever good name he had in order to protect five hundred thousand people from burning to death calls for a substantial reevaluation of his character. It puts a lot of his actions and reactions into a very different context.

And now, in his last episode, the penultimate episode of the series, we get “lol no never mattered to me! All incest, all the time, baby!”

Flippin’ insulting. To any viewer who was remotely invested in Jaime’s storyline or character.

(23:02) Continuing to use Cersei’s pregnancy to humanise her. This just – I’m not sure if I can fully articulate how much this bugs me, and on how many levels. I’ll come back to the issue as the episode progresses, especially in her death scene, but for now…

Cersei’s pregnancy is not going to automatically radically change who she is as a person. I mean, it hypothetically could, it’s not outside the realms of possibility, but it’s by no means a given. She’s a grown-ass woman who’s already given birth to three children (possibly four, depending on retcons). She’s got a bunch of other strong life experiences and strongly-held beliefs. This pregnancy does not define her life. If she’s been saying “no, fuck off, I think I can win this and that will be best for my unborn child,” perhaps that’s worth paying attention to? Perhaps it’s her argument that needs to be addressed, rather than simply saying “but the baby”?

Note to characters: the issue you’re having with Cersei is that she mistakenly believes she can win the war, not that she’s hanging on to her position out of self-destructive spite. She might be deluding herself, but if anyone’s trying to convince her, they have to deal with that delusion. Not rely on appeals to emotion alone.

(23:50) Now it’s Tyrion committing some mild treason. To save Cersei. Who hired someone to kill him and Jaime both, in the last couple of episodes. Remember when Tyrion had actually complicated feelings about Cersei, back in the day? When he hated her for the shit she pulled and the way she treated him, but couldn’t totally give up on caring about her because she was his sister?

Yeah, I can’t help but notice that the more the show wants to demonise Daenerys for her actions in removing Cersei’s regime, the less complex Tyrion’s feelings about Cersei become.

(24:12) “Sail right past the Iron Fleet and into a new life?” Jaime asks, and Tyrion responds, “There isn’t going to be an Iron Fleet much longer.” And, what, Tyrion thinks that Jaime can sail right past Dany’s own forces, dragon included? Like finding Cersei won’t be real high up on Dany’s to-do list following gaining control of King’s Landing? Granted, if last episode is anything to go by, Dany’s field of vision while riding on Drogon is severely limited, but even so.

(25:39) So the brothers Lannister share their final farewell. Speaking of relationships that became less complex. This hits basically the same notes as their parting at the end of season four did. How has this relationship changed? How have the people involved changed? Where’s the progress? Where’s the journey? What is the story?

(25:54) The omissions from Tyrion’s book arc are rubbed in as he thanks Jaime for not treating him like a monster.

(26:37) Now here we have a shot of a bell tower, and I think I might be done with most of my substantive commentary for this episode. I’ll do a bit of narration so people can keep track of who’s going where and the like. We’ll try to keep the teleportation to the show and not the recap. There’ll be a few things of substance, and we’ll get to them, but most of the rest of this 77-minute episode is noisy destruction.

At least it’ll be well-lit noisy destruction. Ugh, and to think I asked for a daytime fight scene in my pre-S8 wishlist.

(27:03) Establishing the Iron Fleet with their ballistae, and Euron’s presence aboard.

(27:15) Establishing more Lannister forces on the walls, also with ballistae. The amount of hustling and bustling and locking and loading going on, this is shaping up to be a real fair fight.

(28:16) Arya and Sandor have made it inside the city.

(28:44) Jaime is also trying to make it inside the city. He took his glove off especially for this purpose. Meanwhile, the Golden Company march out.

(29:15) Here’s a nice detail – the Golden Company’s shields all have golden skulls painted on them.

(30:31) Cersei heads out onto the balcony, because that’s what she does these days, watch things from her balcony. She’s wearing a nice shade of red today, and it couldn’t possibly be coincidental that Cersei swaps back to the red outfits as Dany moves into all black outfits, could it? Huh, so weird. And extraordinarily subtle.

(31:30) We’ve got a bit of a subplot with this mother and daughter trying to enter the city. I sense heartstring-tugging…

(33:03) And now, establishing Daenerys’ location. On a dragon. In the sky. The music kicks in with her arrival.

(33:31) Daenerys starts doing what she should have done well over a season ago, and starts torching the Iron Fleet. Note that all aimbot tendencies have been turned off, today. Diabolus ex machina is no longer affecting Dany because she is the diabolus ex machina now, and nobody will be able to stop her. The forces of evil (as defined by the show, not me) will now be delivering an almighty curbstomping to the forces of also evil, and the innocent bystanders. It’s gritty. It’s real.

(33:58) It’s not too late for Euron to make his final miraculous escape from a ship just torched by Drogon, though. See you in half an hour, Euron! I’m sure you’ll make things worse when you show up.

(34:07) So that’s the Iron Fleet dealt with! Man, why didn’t Dany just do this back in 7.02 or 7.03? This is super easy! Could have saved a lot of lives amongst Dany’s Ironborn allies, Dornish allies, and Reach allies, too. Were their lives not worth preserving? Shortened the war, saved a lot of lives there. Increased resources available to deal with the ice zombies, possibly spread out the impact of those losses…

(34:47) So that’s the Lannister forces on the walls dealt with! Man, why didn’t Dany just do this back in 7.03 or 7.04? This is super easy!

I note that Dany’s attack on the Red Keep, while causing a lot of fatalities amongst the men on the walls, hasn’t caused any destruction in the city as yet. You wouldn’t want to rely on a fire not spreading, and anyone worried about the risks would be fucking right to do so, but it would seem to indicate that a bit of targeting can go on here. It’s not a case of “use fire in city = fwoosh!” Almost like risks can be managed, chances taken…

(36:20) So that’s the Golden Company dealt with! I’m glad they were in the story! They sure had an impact!

You know I’m looking at all this fire and destruction and thinking, wow, a character sure was set up to fail in multiple ways these past two seasons…and not very well, either.

(38:22) Dialogue! What a novelty! Anyhow, Qyburn tells us that all Cersei’s anti-dragon weapons have been destroyed.

(41:15) The Lannister soldiers defending the streets start to throw down their swords. Here is where the episode gets…nasty. Also the situation with Daenerys and her cause becomes narratively irretrievable. The fight is over.

We’ve got a lot of close up shots of Dany, but she hasn’t had any dialogue since…lemme check…about the seventeen-minute mark of the episode. We have not been tracking what she thinks of the city’s fall. The story decided she was a bad guy now at the end of the last episode, and we’re just cementing it now.

(43:07) The bells start ringing here, officially signifying surrender.

(43:31) But wait! Dany is listening to the bells and breathing heavily! She sobs, takes off towards the Red Keep –

(44:33) And starts randomly spraying fire on civilians. That’s right! No dialogue! No nothing! Dany hears bells and fucking snaps. Goes from liberator to mass murderer in a second. Starts killing thousands of people without a word. Because after everything, it’s the surrender she can’t handle.

This just doesn’t track. I’m sorry. It doesn’t. We spent all that time debating how much force Dany should use against legitimate military targets, even when the possibility of severe collateral damage was involved, and in this moment Dany starts going after civilians directly. Clearly a different sort of thing. Where is the connection? The logic? “Dany is willing to accept the risks of high collateral damage, therefore she’s just a bell ring away from murdering civilians deliberately and personally.” “Dany is willing to use extreme force against active military targets, therefore she’s willing to use extreme force against surrendered enemies and civilians.” What?

There are ways you can bridge those gaps. There’s the way I think the books may well go down in TWoW – Dany misjudges the risks out of aggression (and ignorance of the magical explosives in town), and her actions end up causing far more destruction than she was okay with. There’s the way where Dany believes that the civilians are a threat to her, out of paranoia or delusion (note: this requires more set-up than Dany not enjoying herself at a party and failing to brush her hair after her spymaster tried to poison her). The show’s done neither, leaving us no explanation for why Dany has crossed what’s a pretty clear moral and ethical line, above and beyond any moral ambiguity in using her dragon against a military target.

If we’re going for “her logic is twisted because she’s ~crazy~”, the viewer still needs that explanation. Why did she think this made sense? This is a huge, radical action in the story, whether Dany’s insane or whether she drank evil juice with her non-poisoned breakfast, so where’s the scaffolding around this decision? She couldn’t even shout down to Jon that it wasn’t over until Cersei is dead?

Also note that the close-ups on Dany’s face and the heavy breathing would indicate that this is an emotional decision for Dany. These close-ups have been used thus far this season to indicate her growing insanity/“insanity”. Another issue to discuss next episode.

Mostly, I think the showrunners have subbed Dany in for JonCon – who, unlike Dany, does have bell-related surrender trauma. Here’s the thing though, and I know this is a minor point easily missed in these thousand-page apiece books: JonCon isn’t Dany. Find/replace is not a good way to adapt cool storylines from the books.

In addition to this, it’s real fucking irksome that after all the song and dance a few seasons back about the strong female characters taking charge, we get this. Female characters in charge, yes, but female characters who are both crazy and/or evil, which we can see because they keep blowing up the same damn city. I hate that this is the final conflict of the series. What’s more dangerous than the humanity-obliterating ice zombies? Women being in charge of Westeros, because they keep blowing up the same damn city. I hate that this is how they decided to treat arguably the series’ most prominent female character, let’s make her Cersei at her evilest, but even eviller and more fiery. Isn’t it cool that we went back on what was thus far a pretty straightforwardly heroic narrative, blowing all her moments of moral ambiguity and ruthlessness far out of proportion to her arc as a whole to that point? I bet this will subvert everyone’s expectations!

I just – I just want to know why. Really I do. Why was this decision made? What did the writers think the connotations of their decisions were? How did the writers think this would play? Honestly, now.

This also marks the point where the episode starts to just fucking suck to watch, because it’s another half hour of previously sympathetic characters mass murdering civilians. Half a fucking hour. Mass slaughter of extras. It’s destruction porn, nothing more. It’s not designed to make the audience think about the moral hazards of war and power, it’s meant to hurt the audience.

Asshole storytelling – the story gave the audience something to want, in Daenerys, won over several seasons of seeing her overcome internal and external obstacles. It gave the audience Daenerys’ success. And then the story abruptly yanked it away by having Dany mass murder thousands upon thousands of innocent civilians, and told the audience they were stupid for not seeing it coming earlier.

*sigh* Let’s get the rest of this over with.

(45:05) Jon is mildly bemused by Grey Worm murdering a Lannister soldier unprovoked. Can we buy a reaction? Nor does he do anything you might expect a leader to do, such as exert authority over the situation on the ground.

I mean, I know that they’re going for Jon being shocked into numbness, and as a member of the audience I can relate to the emotion. But when everyone’s reaction to things is Dull Surprise, nobody’s reaction stands out.

(45:23) Okay. Crucial seconds after the fact, Jon starts reacting. What this scene also does is establish that the Northern armies are getting well into the sacking and slaughtering (as does the extended sequence of wanton slaughter afterwards). That’s yet another thing I’m going to be keeping in mind for next episode.

(46:42) Speaking of Dull Surprise. The problem’s not Peter Dinklage (nor Kit Harrington, actually), the problem’s the lack of variety in response.

(47:03) Davos here starts ushering civilians out of the line of fire and proves himself far more effective a leader in the moment than…well. Just about anyone else present, actually.

(47:43) Oh no! The Dull Surprise has taken over the extras, too!

(48:10) Jon Snow, still wandering around scenes of carnage as they just sort of occur around him.

(49:03) Lena Headey’s doing her best with this “keep the emoting minimal” instruction, but yeah, nobody thus far has been allowed to have a reaction to Dany burning a city down for funsies beyond maybe a slightly dropped jaw.

(49:29) Meanwhile, Jaime has made it all the way around the Red Keep.

(49:35) …where, quite coincidentally, Euron is hanging out. So I was wrong, it was twenty minutes until he showed up for his last diabolus ex machina.

(50:17) So this isn’t so much a climactic duel against an epic backdrop as a misplaced ego fight. Euron’s revolting and basically a plot device for bad things to happen to other people, Jaime’s burned all sympathy anyone may have ever had for him, they’re fighting over Cersei of all people, Euron’s only doing this to be fucking obnoxious one last time…what’s the audience supposed to hope for here, beyond “I hope you both die”?

(50:33) While Jaime and Euron fight, the Red Keep’s getting absolutely torched.

(51:51) Two minutes of Jaime and Euron flailing at each other, concluding with Jaime getting stabbed, nobody cares…

(52:08) Qyburn continues to give Cersei notifications on how fucked her situation is, and he convinces her to leave. Strange, he never once mentioned the fact that she’s pregnant to do so.

(52:48) Green fire is visible in the city, another thing which makes me think that the showrunners were lifting from the books. Badly, with key things out of context (like the order of events), but grabbing from planned book events nevertheless.

(53:33) Back at the Euron-Jaime dick-fighting contest, Jaime stabs Euron. Still don’t care.

(54:09) Euron dies insisting how awesome he is for stabbing Jaime. How nice for him.

(54:35) Arya and Sandor make it into the map room. They’re not even dusty.

(54:43) We get a close-up of Sandor, Arya fuzzy in the background, as Sandor tells Arya to go home. This, much like the scene they shared last episode, puts Sandor in the protagonist role. Not Arya.

For a while now, Arya has felt like an afterthought. Her skills built up to killing the Night’s King through the magic of hasty retcons, but as far as an internal character journey goes, she’s been a side character in other people’s development. First Sansa, now Sandor. Again, this is something I anticipate talking about in a bit more detail in the next episode’s recap, but I think the showrunners lost sight of Arya Stark as a character in the last few season, and started bouncing her between plot points they wanted her involved in.

(55:04) Sandor stops here to tell Arya the point of their respective stories. Somewhat belatedly, I might add, given that she’s already slaughtered most of House Frey. Just in case it wasn’t coming across, or was somehow undermined by the events that are about to transpire.

(55:32) After being informed of the futility of her quest, Arya remembers, “Oh hey! I have a few things to live for! Thanks for pointing that out!” She doesn’t come to this on her own, she has to be told this.

(56:53) Sandor appears on the stairs, ready for Cleganebowl.

(57:36) Gregor rather abruptly kills Qyburn (bye!) and Cersei excuses herself from a scene she clearly has no business in. Seriously, it’s like she alked onto the wrong set.

(57:59) So here we are for a far more hyped up duel, another fight to the death against an epic backdrop. And again: why should I, the viewer, care? Sandor just said that this was absolutely pointless, that they’re both going to die anyway. The stakes of this fight…aren’t real high. The emotional torque relies on people wanting Sandor to get revenge at the direct expense of finding some way to move on with his life – the very path he just told Arya was a better one.

(59:20) Ah, the true love of the series: Cersei and Jaime. Reunited at last. What even are the choices here. Never mind, let’s just enjoy Lena Headey’s Cersei.

(1:00:46) More Cleganebowl. It’s a fight. With a zombie.

(1:02:00) Arya heads out into a rapidly crumbling and burning King’s Landing.

(1:03:31) Swapping between Cleganebowl (still a fight with a zombie) and Arya (still in a city in the process of being destroyed).

(1:04:12) The woman who was trying to get through the gates earlier with her daughter helps Arya to her feet. Oh yeah, there’s definitely going to be some heartstring-yanking here. Back to Cleganebowl.

(1:06:05) Which ends when Sandor tackles Gregor out the collapsing walkway into the flames below. Again, I got nothing. This fight meant nothing. It did nothing. Except help contribute to the undermining of Arya’s story, such as it became (do as I say, not as I do!) and kill off some useless characters, uh, provide fanservice, uh, wrap up loose ends.

(1:06:20) Back to Jon, still just kinda existing in the devastation, now with greener fire. Clearly he needs a dragon to scream at.

(1:06:44) Fucking finally! Jon does something useful and effective, in starting to arrange for his own forces to leave the burning city. About twenty minutes after he should have, but he got there in the end.

(1:07:10) Back to Arya, who’s most definitely dusty now. Writers seem to be trying to fake out her death an awful lot this episode. How many buildings can fall on the poor woman?

(1:10:17) Sure enough, the woman who tried to help Arya, and her daughter, are tragically incinerated in front of Arya’s very eyes. Didn’t see that coming, did you?

(1:10:25) Back to Jaime and Cersei in the collapsing tunnels of the Red Keep.

(1:10:49) Only their escape route is blocked.

(1:11:15) Ramin Djawadi doing his best as per usual brings in an echo from “Light of the Seven,” aka the music that played when Cersei blasted the Sept of Baelor. She did that! Just in case people and/or characters can’t recall as far back as season six.

(1:11:28) Unfortunately, we get this bullshit for Cersei and Jaime’s respective deaths, which is all about how she wants to live because she’s got a wanted pregnancy. I’m not averse to showing that Cersei is human with human frailties, but the viewer is fundamentally being asked to feel bad for this woman because she is pregnant. Ignore the woman (and the entirety of her life), focus on the pregnancy. We also have some goddamned icky creator comments contextualising this scene as Cersei being just a girl seeking comfort from a man, or some such bullshit that infantilises Cersei and reduces Jaime’s range of appropriate emotions in this situation.

It also continues to be extremely gross that the writers are treating Cersei’s romantic relationship, and her motherhood and potential motherhood as her foremost humanising, sympathetic characteristic – while out there unloved, infertile, human-childless Dany has snapped and started murdering thousands of people because nobody loves her.

I’ll have more to say about gendered character death next episode. Yes, I’m keeping a list. It’s getting pretty long.

(1:12:42) The music switches back to “The Rains of Castamere” for the actual Lannister deaths. Rocks fall. Jaime and Cersei die in each other’s arms.

(1:13:15) Ash falls in King’s Landing, and Arya wakes up yet again. This is like the third time in the past twenty minutes. Would you believe she’s still in a burning city?

(1:14:59) A random blood-spattered white horse appears on the set for Arya to ride. The symbolism here would be anvilicious, if not for a) the next episode and b) the fact that this goes nowhere. In case you didn’t get the point, though, there’s been a lot of death this episode!

#anti got #fine toothed comb edition #cw: violence #season eight #now to crack open a bottle of red wine

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years

Text

Tuesday 14.. July 1835

No kiss. fine morning - comfortable airy good bedroom, the 1st time of ever being so comfortable here - breakfast at 9 5- Mr Gray came at 10 ½ - before his coming and during his being here wrote the whole of yesterday and these 2 lines of today till 10 50 - out at 11 20 meaning to go to the Duffins - had not gone above 20 yards when met Mrs D- she was going to Dr Belcombe to take him to see Eliza Raine and settle about taking her in at Clifton, she being of late so much worse as to be quite unfit to be under the care of Mrs and Miss Barker who are both made quite nervous and ill by sleepless nights and the trouble they have with her - she was very ill about a year ago - worse than now - Mrs D- hardly thought she would get over it change of life with her - had sought over Mr Duffin’s papers - could not find the letter to him containing Eliza’s will - could not tell what had become of it - uneasy about it - delighted to have met me - it seemed providential - I explained about the will - that just before my going to France in 1825 it had been given at Mr Jonathan Grey’s suggestion into the hands of Mr Robert Swann, he being deemed by Mr JG the most proper person to have it in charge - at least, said J, Mr Duffin said he would give to Mr RS- and afterwards told me he had given it to him - Mrs D- said she had asked Mr RS if he had it, but he denied all knowledge of it - I said this was very odd - but I would speak to Mr J. Grey, and felt sure I could recall the circumstances to his mind - thought he was sure of find some memoranda on the subject as I had particularly authorized him to act for me in the business (he having read over the will and letter) in the event of anything happening to Eliza during my absence - Mrs D- and I called and found Dr Belcombe at home waiting for her - much surprised to see me, but apparently glad - we all walked together to Mrs Barker’s - I had seen Eliza about 1 ¼ year ago (in May I think) - she struck me as looking much aged and altered - I think she knew us all, tho’ she talked incoherently and would take no notice - she spits perpetually and is so dirty and obstreperous, as to be very unfit to be under the sole management of women - poor Mrs and Miss Barker cried and seemed worn out - Mrs D- had intended letting her remain with them till 3 rd of next month when her year would be complete - I strongly urged the propriety of her being sent to Clifton tomorrow if Dr Belcombe could take her in - yes! he would do all he could - agreed with me she should be removed as soon as possible and it was arranged for her to go tomorrow Mrs D- having previously agreed as to terms etc etc - Mrs Barker is to have £20 or £50 (I forgot which) as a reward for her long and good care of poor Eliza and Dr B- is to have £80 or £180? per annum for board and lodging and medical attendance and everything except clothes which Mrs D- is to find as usual since the death of Lady Crawford and the leaving York of Miss Wilson - Dr B- left us at the end of Gillygate and Mrs D- and I walked forwards to Clifton - saw the housekeeper Mrs Clarkson - chose rooms for Eliza, and I drove Mrs D- and myself back to Dr Belcombe‘s in his pony carriage - the ponies spirited and Mrs D- frightened almost out of her wits - but landed her safe - sat a few minutes with Mrs Henry Belcombe and then went with Mrs D- to Swann’s bank - saw Mr RS explained about the will - he had no remembrance of it - said he certainly had it not - Mrs D- sat 10 minutes with A- and me at the Black swan and left us at 1 40 - A- had luncheon - put on our habits - the 2 chesnut ponies came from Coopers (the 1st time of seeing them since bought of Mr Bateman) we mounted and set off to Brandsby to see Mr WF Milner’s wife and mother anxious to settle whether to take them all for the school or not - the ponies went very quietly and well but we did not make way very fast - passed thro’ the villages of Huntington, Strensall, Sheriff Hutton, (considerable remains of the castle, neatly kept, and worth sketching - and near village) and Whenby said to be 14 miles from York to Brandsby - should have passed thro’ Stillington, but in no doing so, went by by-roads perhaps 3 miles round about, and did not reach Brandsby hall till 6 20 i.e. 4 hours all but 10 minutes in riding - on seeing Miss Milner the mother found the villages was at some distance - no place

SH:7/ML/E/18/0062

to refresh the horses at - Mrs Cholmeley sent to ask us to take wine and to have the horses put up - declined the former - thankfully accepted the latter - sent in my name - were shewn into the library and sat there amusing ourselves as well as we could - in about ¾ hour young Mrs. Milner came a pretty well-mannered looking person - A- well enough pleased with her - I did not quite so well like the manner of the mother - but yet nothing much against her - merely thought her a little too familiar in her whispered anxiety to leave Mrs Cholmeley whom she neither seemed to like nor respect - said she had had 14 servants in some very few years - promised Mr Milner an answer as soon as we could determine - I had taken down an 8vo published in 1815 ‘The Roman Catholic Faith’ by Berington and Kirke - addressed to Roman Catholics - a sort of sheet anchor - they deny that the new testament is an independent rule of faith - vide - rang the bell for the house maid - gave her 2/. ditto to the footman and 5/. to the groom, and off again at 7 35 returned by a different route and got by lanes and crossroads into a higher road to York a little beyond the turnpike 4 miles from the city - expected to have passed thro’ Clifton but came out by Jillygate [Gillygate] (supposing road to Stillington out of Monkbar) and alighted at the Black swan at 11 1/4 - too late to send the ponies back to Cooper’s (a mile off) so kept them at the Black swan - dinner, ordered for 7, had been waiting and I was only just sent downstairs - had it up again in ¼ hour and sat talking till 12 20 - both of us tired but A- made no complaints and really bore all admirably - perhaps she felt less shaken than I did - except abroad on mules or mountain horses, 10 years since I had been on horseback -same and except the 5 or 6 miles 3 or 4 yours ago on Mrs Duffin’s horse that in that distance flayed me quite - fine day - very fine afternoon and evening my cousin came tonight put on stocking to sleep in.

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rwmhunt · 3 years

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Leviticus, Chapter 23

1. Substitute day, and a return unto A sender of something, as to another place, That hasn't the wherewithal to get there either; I will open it again and learn That which is already known to be such As isn't so much.

2. And it's not mine, but a, And is the right way round. For as I set the seasons, I reprise, reply, replay; It's substitution day.

3. And Sabbath is the seventh, Whence the lord, in all thy dwellings, Is up for doing nothing; Or Sabbath is the sixth; I don't care.

4. And welcome to my channel, It's great to have each of you still with me- A man who speaks of people By their purpose, Himself as his own singer, With- such are the seasons, Even, holy convocations, For want to be sure of a constant, It's Senhal, An obscure term For an old friend.

5. Love, love, lo, this is not Of a cloven love, Leviticus, I will speak of it Unto sundry strangers and neighbours, As just one more month's dusk Then it'll be passover, Not once. Not twice, Not once. Love. So we can still imagine a time When all of this will go again;

6. But a day will approach When, if there is something That can look back, Could think that 'here' and 'then' Are really very close;- And I wonder if they saw The strings of direct attachment, Lining their behaviours; Just flour and water, But I don't think so; Still, anytime was closer to history than this one, So what do I know?

7. If I were to put the onus On to the impossible, Then what was light-hearted and playful, Would be wont to become ridden and surly; Lord, being an influencer is a serious endeavour, For how many unsuccessful oblations are there That are out there? Lo, state your appreciation; Don’t just wing it. Plan it out in kalends, Of which are reckon'd to be backwards; so, To start, do nothing.

8. After a week, Let's go- Gift your influencers' grift, For, when you so do this, It strokes the ego of the flames, Who then add unto the savour of sacrifice, Thus, get me it up; Make it smolder, Then, use its fatal nature To activate the future.

9. And simple: These are nacks, To muster control Over gods; Are junk and have been; That we all have interest vested- Let ignorance of it control Hereafter, same, so anon and amen.

10. Crowdsplain- First fruit the priest Hard and long, Find the tunnels, Writing what's impossible For the brain to conceive, That it may then be read back of, To supplant and supersede; So become possible.

11. And thither, the Wheatchief Will wave the sheaf Tomorrow- See how it goes? Ol' Cathode Ray, and Non-mathmatical aesthetic identities, The spirit of the radio take her.

12. That once the sheaf And all the while Be specific unto thy niche- Nativize unto thy platform, For, the experience shall follow The rhyzome's swerve and function, So that the user-expectation be wrought From whence the contents be placed- In this case, Add in a lamb shank ponzi scheme to my platform; Smells wonderful.

13. So unto the titular character, Exerting such low level leverage as Begetteth me of an ephah cake, And a quarter hin of wine; I don't need the free stuff, I am a successful influencer, But shouldst you want me to advertise for suckers On my platform that I have built myself for free; Well, we're all getting along so good.

14. Then it's me first, And simple: see- That our boldest endeavours, And most exciting adventures- They have not yet even begun; That, in spite of all the detritus, In the teeth of all that we've done, my boys, I tell you: The best Is yet To come.

15. Then, 49 days later, Seek whence Thought might come in sequence, And I'm really so blessed and thankful to you all for being here; So, as thought comes in sequence And thus, it wasn't known where We are going here as we begun. O tensions, retensions- I use to used to run.

16. Know, influencers, I am the hype; So on-brand that I can give unto you, And through you, the trick- Pyramid that still stands For the thousands- Round it up; So nice.

17. And, super relevant- Optimize continuously, also, Compensate me handsomely; while Sacrifice may seem like a quick-success marketing strategy, It isn’t so. Such are the things that keep not happening; More food please.

18. Lots more, This is why the burden of proof for rhetorical claim Shall falleth shortly As among the Open Wounde who should maketh of such a claim; It is not upon the world to provide him a fallacy, But he, who's to prove the world its truth; which, Across all channels, He, rerewise, hath been completely unable to do.

19. So suffer him his own precarity; And then some; Think back to when, Twirrup twipip,-pwiwip, Suwee, psu, swoo swsoo, So sweepeth they in song, As we, quiet, Through our blossom comedown, That hideth our tiny singers, And the bulgence behind the wiltage, In the verges, Be of burgeoning seed.

20. And everyone wave; All this- so good as is it to be; And though under a hail Of black tormentors, Our torment, And through its over-drone, With no one remembering it happening, But, who'll remember the photograph?

21. Sit back; You've lost everything, So lo, olah, you remember how mother died- Bringing cow parsley into the tent of meaning; For she went by the umbels as we'd walked on the plain, And they had reminded her of those lace cushions That her ladies-in-waiting had carried, And so gave them the name.

22. Embassadors, Leave thy corners to disillusion; A true influencer ideally keeps doing What they genuinely gain of a passion for. They know their value and their need is not to shew it, So spend a lot of time reading news and sharing opinions with others online. By buying-up dozens of potential plots, They help to plot the exodus to less, And stake an astronaut over the shape of a woman. But politics isn’t about the weird worship of one dude, So his words became their actions.

23. Is it worth your time To try and ignore that, if, What you are listening to Is the most effective form of advertising- A babbling of a technique That hath impostulated language, Then, should things go well, We may even be able to rend a cross-paracleation With phantom trust-collaborators, Interested in guest-posting for backlinks and exposure, Thus, marrying into micro-influencers, And so tap into our y.

24. But be consistent: For my favourite casts come out the same- Here, crowdplain how a seventh month is a Sound the trumpet month; See how it goes? Lo, but half of me struggles with the whimsy Of the other side that's yet so entranced; No, I'm not sure why, it's just the way I feel.

25. Down tools, more please. Gnaw your own head off. All things positivity- and It is always negotiation; Not: You bring it to the tabernacle, I sing- There is no shortness of spirit In opinion To be cut down. Equal positives, so unto Those things that keep not happening.

26. There are voices you hear of, As quoted as begetters of insightful opinion, Who art themselves never made extant, Being only reported hereto as sources, And lo, that they are the influencers. And I'm super curious as to know what you guys think; Please be sure to leave your comments amid the margins.

27. Thence, afflict thy souls, For, tis atonement day- We're ten into the seventh, And the snap's back when I was An offensive lineman, And the pass sent over- The big lie, long, long to the long deceiver, Ah, burnt offerings- How original, Best look unto the analytics, And if they give you not access there unto , Verily, you are going to have to fight, Fight as peaceful as Sheol, Down, deep down and dirty- I'm not going to call it off.

28. Down tools; Atone to the dial tone, No one calls; Let Ladder Capital Createth of the sponsored post- Like many on the medium, To use an ode- I used to play the role; To laugh and laugh; Laugh til I despised all there was to laugh at, And then I stopped, And in the silence, saw what I had done.

29. But laughing is not so bad.

We've been a good wee band. Yes we have. No one is coming after us. And if you're alright, mack, You'll get cut off.

30. So workers got destroyed That day, And Aaron was frustrated, And livid. Reach round; Feel thy spine. The way people stop you From being helpful When you are helpful, So that you cannot be helpful, So that they can cut you From your people.

31. Tardiness in perpetuity, Aye, today, it is Yplangenday- Well, I'll have to put myself Through some more adamantine Paces than god allows, else I'll never get enough done.

32. And be bold, For, you'll need to deracinate; Chancers are toxic vocations Within the tent of meaning; It's content; it's all content- Divide and game, so- Focus and grow. I mean to make sure That you are a consistent- Start of the ninth evening , End of the next.

33. God doesn't eat though, That I can see- For all that we give him, God doesn't eat.

34. Crowd, 15/7, and tabernacle feast week; Still his words became their actions, Shrill, until the doctrine of laches, When the searched-after Faithless elector went libertarian, Like many on the medium, Clade unto such bolled and novel obstacles What stretched where chance was slim, And slim was still in quarantine.

35. To start again, down tools, For, lo, if you want to be in a prison camp, You needst allow yourself the luxury Of being stupid enough to get captured.

36. Sacrifice? Spluttereth the LORD: But I'm fed up with so much burnt rubbish, I wish for forced fresh rhubarb, So shunt and jive; I've Optimized, and optimize continuously.

37. Drinks break; take life indicting, Gratify all at a local craven hire scheme, Go abroad singing, so merrylike, To slough off the whole As one enormous rhyzome. Deus Hic! God is drunk! I heard that, Brian Leg-Coverall.

38. O well done Jehus, And good to be with you, Yes you, Who are good in a crisis; A reminder- I'm working with mischief.

39. Wait, rest again, To live is to live through An embarrassment of times, Damarkated as meaningful riches, That will not be well remembered. Really, I am so blessed.

40. But try to ask of a question; So that thy congregation Might make communion in answer, See how it goes? Say, But why, isn't it A bit like palm sunday? The stream changeth its name As it passeth through each neighbourhood. I knew it as; Well it doesn't matter- You're not reposting, nor liking my banal repartee, So, unfollow.

41. And it goes; for I have giv'n unto them a scapegoat, But they cast it not out; So shall there be a reaving that will follow, and Themselves, they shall be cut off from.

42. Then all ye home-born booth dwellers In dwelling booths, Shall dwell in booths seven days and know That you are living in the rhyzome..

43. And everyone will know that I made you do this- The old booth dwellers, needing my rescue out of Egypt, So weakened, the Open Wounde stayeth open; And remember to tell us what you think, Way down, deep down, down in the margins.

44. And Mose went about with the crowdsplaining Old loud-haler; A simple fellow out of storybook glen, From the tent of meaning, From the twilight men, He ran and told- And the thing is, They were too clever To not know what they were doing- So the target becomes bios; Is the common psychle, The answer- How would you like it? Is - 'I didn't'. And that therein has a hold and salience, As before tends to be the best time to regret- It is a kind of nonsense. I'm so merry

I'm so merry and sad.

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orangeflavoryawp · 4 years

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Jonsa - “From Instep to Heel”, Part 4

Thanks for your patience, guys. Been dealing with Real Life Bullshit and it’s not been fun. But this piece has been my refuge. Hope you guys feel the same. :)

“From Instep to Heel”

Chapter Four: The Downfall

“Ours, she’d promised. But it’s getting harder and harder to see the Stark behind all that Targaryen. (And maybe this is her own fault. Maybe this is her thinking too well of people again. Maybe this is what all naïve, self-righteous girls get for their wanting hearts.)” - Jon and Sansa. Like the curve of the horizon, when the moon breaks from beneath its bow.

Read it on Ao3 here.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 fin

* * *

“And who will your brother be squiring for?” Aegon asks Sansa from across the table.

She sets her wine glass down, smiling gratefully at his interest. “My father has not yet found a position for him.”

“Not yet?” Daenerys asks coolly, cutting into her ham. “Your wedding is in a fortnight. Your family is to return North shortly after, yes?”

Sansa sags with the remembrance. “Yes.”

“Then arrangements should be made rather quickly, don’t you think?”

Sansa nods stiffly, looking down to her plate. “I’m sure my father is looking into it.”

She’s grown used to these dinners with her future husband and siblings. Sometimes King Rhaegar joins them. Sometimes her father or brothers. Sometimes she takes her dinners back in the guest wing, with just the Starks and Theon and Margaery. There’s much more laughter then. Her smiles come more freely. And she does not miss the way Robb and Margaery glance at each other across the table.

Sansa smiles to herself at the recollection. She cannot blame her brother. Margaery is wicked charming, after all, and even Theon has warmed up to her, grudgingly admitting to Sansa once during their stroll through the gardens that Robb could hardly find better and Sansa had swatted his arm good-naturedly for the low compliment before Theon was laughing at her, surrendering, granting his reluctant admiration for the lady. Sansa had beamed.

She wonders if it’s too soon to hope for a sister, rather than a friend, in Margaery.

The thought reminds her suddenly – “Lady Margaery recommended Bran squire for her brother Ser Loras. He is a rather renowned knight, after all. And Margaery’s word gives me hope that the Tyrells would be in favor of such an arrangement.”

Rhaenys scoffs softly across from her.

Sansa swings her gaze over to the princess, catching the way Jon reaches for his wine glass beside her. “Is there something strange about it, Lady Rhaenys?” She cannot help the soft bite that echoes after the words. She still remembers how the other woman had humbled her at tea several days past, the memory unpleasantly sharp and vibrant.

Sansa clenches her jaw.

Ice, she tells herself, breathing deep.

“That woman will sink her claws into anything once she gets a whiff of power,” Rhaenys says.

Sansa’s brows furrow. “Lady Margaery?”

Rhaenys takes a bite of her buttered turnips. “The very one.”

“I don’t see how – ”

“Tell me, Lady Sansa, does your brother Robb take kindly to her?” Rhaenys offers a close-lipped smile, chewing carefully.

Sansa bristles at the insinuation.

“Come, Rhaenys,” Aegon interrupts, “You’re being rude to our guest.”

“I’m only giving her fair warning,” Rhaenys says, spearing another vegetable with her fork. “Lady Margaery wanted you first, brother, and when she couldn’t have that, she went for Jon – ”

“Rhaenys,” Jon warns lowly, and it’s the first Sansa has heard him speak all night.

“ – and when that didn’t happen, she went for the next best thing: the heir to Winterfell.” She takes a vicious bite of her food.

Daenerys reaches for her wine glass, an amused smirk at her lips. “You’re simply mad that Mace Tyrell has offered his son Willas for your hand.”

“And why shouldn’t I be?” she snaps. “Bunch of vultures, the whole lot of them.”

“Lady Margaery has been nothing but sweet and considerate towards my family and I, and I don’t think it right to besmirch a lady based on assumptions,” Sansa gets out breathlessly, hardly believing the words have left her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Jon’s fingers twitch over the stem of his wineglass, drawing it toward his perpetual frown.

Her cheeks heat instantly, fingers tightening over the cutlery in her hands.

“And you’re absolutely right, my lady,” Aegon agrees gently, sending a warm smile her way. He glances to Rhaenys then, a flicker of warning to his violet gaze.

The subtle shift is somewhat jarring, even if his agreement has tempered her bout of sudden vexation.

Rhaenys sends a baleful look toward her brother but doesn’t argue further.

Beside her, Jon shifts in his seat, setting his glass back to the table. Sansa feels acutely aware of every minute movement he makes, anxiety from this maddening silence of his rooting her to her seat.

She’s tried accompanying him in the library, sharing the quiet with him as they each devour their chosen books in turn, hoping to draw some sort of conversation out of him regarding his reading, and yet he offers little more than acknowledging grunts at her attempts. She’s tried sharing stories from home, enlightening him about the North, and Rickon and Arya back at Winterfell, the godswood, the crypts, the hot springs, but he hardly even meets her eyes let alone grants her any seeming interest in her tales. They’ve been riding, they’ve walked the gardens, they’ve shared a meal nearly every evening for the last fortnight she’s been in King’s Landing, and still, he is no more known to her than the first night he swung her about the dancefloor and slated her honest questions with quiet anger.

She’s never been spurned so. It smarts, she finds – when she’s brave enough to admit to it.

“Rhaenys is right though, you know,” Daenerys says over the rim of her wineglass. “In some respects,” she finishes.

Aegon gives a decidedly unprincely eye-roll and throws a smirk Daenerys’ way. “Seven, but you do love to disagree with me, don’t you, wife?” Even as an urge for caution, there’s a fondness to his words that startles Sansa somewhat, the quiet intimacy of it warming her with embarrassment at being present for the exchange.

Daenerys lifts a brow at Aegon, setting her wine glass down. “I’m not disagreeing either way. But you have to admit that the woman certainly isn’t letting the opportunity pass her by.”

Sansa frowns, eyes drifting down to her plate. She stares resolutely at her half-eaten ham, taking a deep, calming breath. Her eyes prick with a stinging wetness she hates.

She does not want to think that her time with Margaery has been disingenuous. It is too cruel a thing to consider.

Sansa curls her hands tightly along her fork and knife, hovering at the edge of her plate, blinking back the wetness.

Maybe she thinks too well of people. Arya’s berated her for it before. Robb’s consoled her because of it, as well. It hurts her more than it helps her, she finds.

But she’d rather think too well of people than too ill of them.

Sansa glances up fleetingly at Rhaenys.

(No, if thinking too ill of people likens her to Rhaenys Targaryen’s sort, then she doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want it at all.)

She can’t have imagined the hidden quirk of Margaery’s lip when Robb had kissed her hand for the first time in greeting, eyes alight on hers as he bent into a courteous bow, and she’d thought Sansa wasn’t looking. Or the unhindered laugh she’d let loose, hand clamped suddenly over her mouth, when Bran tried to tell the story of how he caught Theon kissing Jeyne Poole in the kitchen pantry before Theon nearly vaulted over the dinner table to stop him. Or the way her face had gone slack with tender disbelief when she’d taken the hand-sewn silk handkerchief Sansa had offered her just the other day, beaming proudly as Margaery fingered the edges with a fond reverence.

There are many shadows in the Red Keep, but some things Sansa still sees clearly.

She swallows thickly, straightening in her seat, missing the way Jon watches her with muted, grey eyes.

“And is this the norm in the capital? This rank suspicion? Is it not tiring to always assume a second layer of meaning to what people say and do?” she asks. It’s a barb, of course, a frank observation, but there is also a genuine need to the question. She clamps her mouth closed at the tail end of the words, feeling suddenly small and naïve and childish. But even still –

Surely it can’t be all shadows in such a sunlit place.

Daenerys and Rhaenys offer piqued brows at the question while Aegon graces her with a consolatory smile. Beside her, Jon smothers a rueful chuckle into his wine glass. Sansa nearly glares at him, but reins the instinct in, cutting into her ham instead, perhaps a touch too forcefully.

“You’ve a kind heart, Lady Sansa,” Aegon says, leaning back in his seat as he watches her. “Be careful with. It seems too beautiful a thing to break.” His violet gaze is steady, candle-lit and searing.

Sansa swallows thickly at the look, setting her cutlery to her plate. Daenerys takes a large swig of wine across from her, eyes averted. Jon sets his glass down loudly, a gruff exhale leaving him. Sansa nearly startles at the noise.

“Your brother would do well under Ser Loras,” he says to her suddenly, voice low and tight, a gravelly quality to the words – the most he’s said to her in days.

Sansa blinks at him, only to find him watching Aegon intensely.

Aegon hardly notices, having returned to his plate with a gingerly swipe of his knife into his meat.

Sansa opens her mouth, closes it, finds her voice finally. “Thank you, my lord.”

Jon grunts his acknowledgement, dragging his wine glass back to his mouth.

“What about Jaime Lannister?”

Sansa looks up at Daenerys’ question. “My lady?”

The Targaryen heiress settles back in her seat, her finished plate abandoned atop the table. “I daresay your brother wouldn’t find a better knight to squire for, and a Kingsguard at that. I’m certain Rhaegar would approve the arrangement.”

Sansa does not miss the way Jon stiffens beside her, but it’s Aegon who responds.

“Yes, that makes perfect sense,” he drawls dismissively. “Let the Stark boy squire for the man who killed their father’s dear friend and helped end his people’s uprising.”

Sansa startles at the blatant way Aegon says it, her mouth parting, her gaze fixing to him. Something brews in her chest – something Northern. Something winter-hewn.

Jon leans his weight to one armrest, scowling at his brother. “Robert Baratheon got what he deserved,” he snarls. “If only Stannis had shared such a fate.” The words are too full of bite to truly be called a lament.

That incessant winter, tugging at her veins – it batters around her chest now.

“And Ned Stark took a knee for it,” Daenerys muses, “So the North may live on.” She scowls softly at her husband. “I see no reason to dismiss the suggestion. Ser Jaime squired under Ser Arthur Dayne, after all. Any lord would be overcome to have their son squire for such a knight.”

Sansa watches as Rhaenys goes stiff with the mention of Arthur Dayne. Jon lets out a near growl into his slowly emptying wine glass. Sansa’s skin feels tight, uncomfortable, her eyes blinking furiously, lungs clenching in her chest.

To speak so casually about her people’s independence, their failed rebellion – Sansa finds the words tart and smarting along her tongue.

Robert Baratheon got what he deserved. And Ned Stark took a knee for it.

Sansa’s chest heaves, her cutlery clattering to her plate.

Jon glances at her out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry, but I…” She trails off, eyes fixed to her plate.

Aegon leans toward her, a concerned look on his face. “Lady Sansa?”

Jon takes a long gulp of wine.

Sansa steals a breath through her nose, hands going to her lap. “Robert Baratheon may be a traitor to the crown but he was – ” The words stall in her throat, thick with unspoken meaning.

He was her father’s brother, in truth, as much as Uncle Benjen ever was. As much as Uncle Brandon, too.

Her hands curl into fists atop her lap.

“You’re not about to defend him, are you?” Jon asks quietly beside her, still as the grave, eyes dark, even by candlelight.

Sansa glances up at him, mouth parted.

Daenerys trails a slender finger slowly up and down the stem of her wine glass as it rests atop the table. “Careful, Jon,” she says, eyes glinting, “Your soon-to-be wife seems to have wavering allegiances.”

The panic is instant, throat closing around spent air. “I’m not – ”

“The Baratheons are a gutless sort,” Jon sneers. “No honor amongst them.”

Rhaenys is uncharacteristically silent, dragging her fork across her plate almost disinterestedly. But Sansa hardly has a mind to notice. She’s too overcome with a new, threatening ire. “And thus my father, by association?” she asks on as ladylike a scoff as she can manage, teeth rattling behind her heated exhale.

Jon narrows his eyes at her. “That’s not what I said.”

“You may as well have,” she argues, chest heaving.

Jon rolls his eyes, but he’s turning in his seat, facing her now, the brunt of his attention fully trained on her. She shifts to face him in return.

“Lord Stark knelt to save his people, aye, but only when the rebellion was truly lost. That hardly fosters good faith, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’d say burning your lordships alive hardly fosters good faith,” she quips back instantly, brows furrowed sharply, tongue smarting with her indignation.

Daenerys smothers her amused laugh into the rim of her wine glass. Aegon intones his wife’s name warningly, stiff and unblinking. Sansa’s eyes prick with a heated wetness, frustrated and helpless. She keeps her gaze fixed to Jon.

He blinks at her, mouth curling into an aggravatingly familiar smirk. “Citing past grievances won’t help you now, my lady. This is a new era – a new dawn. Our father is a fair ruler, but you can be sure, he will not tolerate treason.”

Sansa smarts at the admonition. “’Past grievances’?” she asks incredulously. “The mad king murdered my grandfather and uncle in open court,” she hisses, voice rising. “Your grandfather and uncle,” she reminds him, the accusation as much a plead as it is a damnation. She blinks furiously at him, the anger rising easily.

Jon swallows tightly, eyeing her with a searing gaze.

“There is no excuse for what our grandfather did,” Aegon says suddenly, voice low and practiced. “No one denies that such an act was atrocious, and certainly un-kingly of him.”

Sansa does not even spare the prince a glance, her eyes still fixed to Jon. He stares resolutely back at her. Neither seems able to relent.

“But you’re looking for villains now where there are only men,” Aegon finishes, and this does draw Sansa’s attention finally. She stares at him, mouth a thin line, hands curling tightly together over her lap.

She hears Jon’s scoff beside her, catches him in the corner of her eye, dragging his wine glass back to his mouth. She swings her hardened gaze back to him instantly. “And I suppose ‘villains’ are all you see when you look at Starks and Baratheons, my lord?” she prompts, voice hard, lip curling into a sneer.

Jon does not wilt beneath her gaze. “I stand by what I said,” he says lowly.

“Am I to assume honor and brotherhood mean nothing to you?”

“Am I to assume fealty means nothing to you?”

Sansa huffs, an incredulous breath drawn through her rattling lungs. “My father is a good, faithful lord.”

“No one is denying it. I’m simply warning you, in hopes that it stays such.”

She feels her nails digging half-moons into her palms. That splinter is back – but oh, how it digs. A stinging reminder beneath her skin.

She wants to claw it out, now.

A seething cold settles over her. “Then tell me you would have done differently,” she gets out in a low voice.

Jon’s gaze shifts between her eyes, brows drawn down in a confused furrow.

Sansa licks her lips, breath raking from her. “If it had been your father and brother murdered so, tell me you would have done differently,” she challenges.

The silence is deafening – a sundering weight between them.

Sansa catches, just barely, the flicker that passes over Jon’s face when the words leave her, before it’s shuttered away, a dark look overtaking him. She watches as he leans back from her, arms going slowly to his armrests, never taking his gaze from hers.

It’s static between them, frenzied air, a heavy draw in her lungs.

She can feel the hammering of her own heartbeat at her ears and wonders – frantically – if he can hear it, too.

She drags her gaze away eventually, eyes fixed to her hands. It seems terribly unfair, this frustration he brews in her.

Because he is so agonizingly still, even now.

She wants to shake him for it, wants to rattle this silence clean out of him, bring back the disparaging remarks, the heated admonishment. But her pride still smarts. And she won’t admit to the hidden, spiteful part of her that revels in being able to reduce him to such silence. So, she sits, and she breathes, and she tries to steady her thunderous heart. She takes his quiet, searing stare as a notion of victory, even when it tastes like chalk on her tongue. Even when the triumph languishes beneath her wounded Northern pride.

Someone clears their throat across the table and Sansa finally glances up, catching Aegon’s violet gaze. It’s closed off, giving nothing away, his mouth a thin line, one slender, poised hand stilled over his wineglass. “Lady Sansa, I would advise you to abandon the topic.” His fingers glide around the rim, slow and measured, and the motion is startlingly lulling to watch. “I do not wish to ruin dinner any further.” He offers a light quirk of his lip. The expression lights a strange mix of comfort and forewarning, and Sansa’s gut clenches, remembering herself suddenly.

“Of course, my lord. I apologize,” she answers, shifting slightly in her seat, decidedly away from Jon, reaching for her own glass and taking a distracting gulp.

Daenerys chuckles ruefully. “All this because of a squire?”

At her side, Jon grunts his displeasure at his aunt’s remark.

Daenerys sighs dramatically, ignoring him. “I still say Jaime Lannister.”

“Gods, Daenerys,” Rhaenys snaps, “You have absolutely no tact, do you?” Sansa finds she is as eager for the princess’ silence as Rhaenys seems to be, though she finds the comment rather hypocritical herself.

But Daenerys only gives the other woman a piqued brow in response. “Training under Ser Arthur Dayne is no common feat, after all. You of all people know the value of that,” she intones meaningfully.

Rhaenys glares at her, jaw quivering.

Jon throws his napkin to the table.

“I beg pardon, but I think perhaps…perhaps it’s time I excused myself,” Sansa says suddenly, drawing her napkin from her lap as well and setting it primly atop the table.

Aegon notes her half-eaten plate with a raised brow. “You’ve barely finished, my lady.” The words are not unkind.

Sansa’s gut churns regardless. “I’ve no appetite tonight, it seems,” she says in apology, looking to him with almost pleading eyes.

Almost, but not quite.

(She will not plead for such a low thing – to be excused from the table like a child.)

“Of course,” Aegon says, nodding to her.

She stands swiftly, hands smoothing her skirts over as she offers her farewells, before she retreats from the room as quickly as she can.

She’s partly through the door when she hears the scrape of a chair behind her, and Rhaenys’ startled “Jon!” before her heart slams up into her ribcage and she’s stalking as fast as she can through the corridor without breaking into a dead run, her hands bunched in her skirts, her chest heaving, eyes stinging with humiliation and ire.

“Lady Sansa.”

She comes to a halt in the torchlit corridor, her back to Jon. “Please,” she says, hating the way the word falters, a quake of air past her lips.

He says nothing behind her at her heavy exhale, says nothing as her hands fist in her skirts. The line of her shoulders is a trembling, vulnerable thing. She swallows, tongue heavy, words rasping as they leave her. “Please, just…let me go, my lord.”

Still, he says nothing. And Sansa hasn’t the patience to turn to him, to humor whatever argument or censure he wishes to sling at her.

Ours, she’d promised. But it’s getting harder and harder to see the Stark behind all that Targaryen.

(And maybe this is her own fault. Maybe this is her thinking too well of people again.

Maybe this is what all naïve, self-righteous girls get for their wanting hearts.)

After many moments, she finds he still has no answer for her but silence. Not even the rustle of his leathers, or the familiar expel of his aggravated breath.

She doesn’t wait around for him to change his mind. She stalks from him, never looking back.

She feels the weight of his stare all the way down the corridor, even still.

* * *

“Come on, Stark, you’ve got better than that, don’t you?”

It’s the cocky way the words are spoken that catches Jon’s ear when he makes it to the end of the opening hallway, turning past a column where the courtyard opens out.

“Any better and you’ll be wiping that mouth off the ground,” Robb taunts back, barking a laugh. A clattering, steely sound follows. Jon rounds the bend into the training yard, looking out in time to see Theon parrying a blow from Robb.

Jon stops to watch the spar. Robb is clearly more disciplined in his training, but Theon is agile, swift. They’re a fair match for a time, but Jon can tell Robb’s endurance will win out. There’s no wasted energy, no move without purpose. Robb conserves himself, doesn’t move without purpose, no mind for theatrics or flashy tricks. There’s a single-minded determination to his motions, his face pensive even in the midst of the fight. He is thinking three moves ahead already, Jon can tell.

A smirk streaks across the Stark’s face.

It is not the pleasure of the spar itself, but the inevitable victory.

Jon watches as Robb delivers the final blow, bashing Theon into the ground, his back hitting the dirt, Robb’s sparring sword stopped just at Theon’s throat, a gleam in his eye when the Greyjoy curses his loss.

Robb steps back, smirk spreading into a full-on grin, reaching a hand out to help Theon up.

Jon blinks at the motion, at the way Theon grunts in reluctance as he takes his hand, even as his own grin is tugging surreptitiously at his lips. He thinks of his own spars with Aegon, the heated fervency of them, the deadlocked resolve. There are never laughs, never out-stretched hands in the wake of victory.

You pick your own self up out of the dirt, Jon reminds himself.

“You were saying?” Robb taunts him.

“Oh shut it, Stark. No one likes a boastful ass.”

Jon’s brows dart into his hairline with his surprise. The heir to Winterfell lets a Greyjoy speak to him thus?

Robb’s laugh fills the courtyard and Theon punches at his shoulder half-heartedly. Robb only laughs louder.

“I’d heed your own words if I were you, Theon,” someone says from across the yard, a feminine giggle lighting the end of the words, and Jon swings curious eyes to the other side of the courtyard, catching along Lady Sansa watching from beneath the veranda. She stands arm in arm with Margaery, the Tyrell lady smothering a laugh with her palm. Sansa arches a challenging brow to Theon, her lips quirked up into a fond smirk. The expression is unguarded, affectionate even in its taunting. Jon’s jaw clenches at the look, chest tightening without warning.

He’s never seen such an expression on her face before – certainly never directed at him.

He thinks back to the other night when they’d argued about Northern fealty and Baratheon treason. The remembrance brings a sourness to his tongue. If only she knew, if only she –

But she doesn’t know. And how could he expect her to?

Seven years ago, when Stannis had –

Jon stops that train of thought, burying the memory instantly, hands clenching into fists at his side.

“You wound me, Lady Sansa,” Theon says dramatically, drawing Jon’s attention back with a hand braced at his chest in mock offense. “You know I mean everything I say.”

“And that’s the problem,” she says back, laughing.

Theon offers her a roguish grin. Jon curls his lip at the sight. “You think I can’t beat your brother? Have you no faith in me?”

“A very little,” she says teasingly. Margaery shakes her head beside her, clearly entertained by the banter.

Theon hoists his sparring sword to rest along his shoulder, chest puffing out at the challenge, but when he turns to face Robb once more, he catches sight of Jon at the edge of the courtyard, their eyes meeting on a halted breath. His grin falls instantly, replaced by a tight-lipped frown, very near a sneer if Jon thinks too long about it. But the Greyjoy seems to have just enough deference not to keep the expression long, straightening, a short bow of his head accompanying his greeting. “My lord,” he says stiffly, all hint of his earlier amusement bled out from his voice.

Robb turns at the address, finding Jon easily, bowing himself with a similar greeting. When Jon finally drags his eyes back to Sansa, she purses her lips, curtseying politely, eyes falling to the floor. Margaery settles a hand along her arm at her side.

Her clear disinterest rankles him, nostrils flaring beneath his heavy breath. “Do continue,” he says to the men, turning back to them. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Robb seems about to say something, before he thinks better of it, tapping his sparring sword in the dirt in apparent contemplation. It’s Theon that speaks then.

“Join us, my lord.”

Sansa’s head snaps up at the words.

Jon raises a brow at the offer. Robb glances to Theon, a cautionary look to his features. But Theon ignores Robb, chin hitching high, lips settling into a self-satisfied smirk. “That is, if your lordship would deem to cross swords with a Stark.”

“You’re not a Stark,” he says without bite, only bluntness, but he sees the way the words strike him regardless.

Theon’s face goes dark, lips twitching, the hand at his sword tightening over the hilt.

It puzzles him, how Theon Greyjoy could take such offense. Is it such a grand thing, to be a Stark? Does it mean so much?

His chest constricts at the thought. It used to mean much. He can hardly recall the feeling now, though. But even still…

A Greyjoy.

Jon finds himself sneering at the other man.

“I’m sure Robb could accommodate that,” Margaery calls out from her place beside Sansa. The other woman turns to her, eyes wide, clutching at her arm.

She only shrugs a shoulder, an impish grin to her features. “Though I daresay it should be rather hard for our dear Lady Sansa to choose who to pledge her favor to,” she says slyly, grin turning devilish.

“Margaery,” Sansa hisses beneath her breath.

Jon is already stalking forward, unlacing his leather jerkin, possessed of something he hasn’t a name for. Sansa swings wide eyes back at him, catching the way he’s staring at her all the while, shrugging out of his jerkin to just his cotton tunic beneath. She swallows thickly, mouth parting as her breath hitches. He doesn’t admit to the rush that overtakes him then.

So she isn’t so unaffected by him, is she?

“I think a spar is an excellent idea, Lady Margaery,” Jon says. Margaery excitedly pats at Sansa’s arm linked through hers with the affirmation. “Assuming Lord Stark here is up to it.” He glances to the man finally, buttoning up his sleeves over his forearms and reaching for a sparring sword along the rack of blades beside them. Theon moves out of the way grudgingly when Jon circles round to the center of the yard with the Stark heir.

Robb nods, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “It would be an honor, my lord.”

“Don’t take it too hard when he knocks you flat on your ass, Targaryen,” Theon mutters off to the side.

Jon flashes him a condescending grin. “You and I are not the same, Greyjoy.”

Robb can’t seem to help the bark of laughter that breaks from his mouth at the words, though he smothers it quickly, offering an apologetic look to Theon as he stews angrily at the dismissal.

They get into a ready position quickly. Robb rolls his shoulders, eager and focused. “I do hope you will be entertained, Lady Margaery,” he calls out teasingly, “even if I should lose.”

She chuckles prettily, head cocked as she watches the men slowly start to circle. “Then I will cheer for you, my lord.”

A singled raised brow, a saucy smirk gracing his lips. “Will you now?”

“It only seems fair,” she muses, glancing at Sansa beside her. “I suppose it would be improper for your sister to grant her brother favor above her betrothed, so I shall have to do, my lord.”

Sansa gives a sidelong glance to Margaery, a barely discernible huff passing her lips. Margaery’s smile broadens at the tease.

“I think I can live with that, my lady,” Robb says, fingers flexing over the hilt of his sword.

The comfortable, playful teasing stirs something in Jon. It’s a strange sort of yearning, a coil in his gut. He glances to Sansa over his shoulder. Her smile wilts instantly.

It grips at him suddenly – a thunderous need.

That coy smirk she had graced Theon with. That flutter of a laugh. That easy, endearing crinkle at her eyes, shoulders shaking lightly in her mirth, red tendrils of hair brushed back with fine-boned fingers.

(A need he doesn’t recognize – not fully, not yet.)

She stares back at him, face a blank visage, a sheen of ice overtaking her.

She has no such smiles for him, especially not since he’d berated her so condescendingly at dinner the other night. No more walks in the garden or accompanying him in the library. He’d grown used to her presence, even when he’d kept a purposeful distance. He’s been too forceful with her, too familiar with his touch. She’s to be his wife, yes, and touch is inevitable, touch is…

Jon swallows, his skin tingling with the anticipation he won’t admit to.

Touch is the least of what will occur between them come the wedding night, but even still, until then, he will not take such liberties with her. She’s clearly not amenable to such intimacy, not yet at least, and Jon is loathe to think she considers him a brute.

But has he given her any reason to think otherwise?

And why should it matter in the first place?

Jon snarls, looking back at Robb. His opponent seems to recognize the shift, the signal, because his face hardens, all mirth leaving him, and then the game begins.

Jon is the first to strike, and Robb parries his swing easily, foot bracing back in the dirt. He pushes off, swinging low. Jon dances out of the way, circling round, eyes trained on Robb. They meet again, a stinging clash of their mock blades, and Jon shifts left, knocking Robb off balance with an elbow. Robb stumbles back, righting himself immediately, just in time to parry another swing from Jon, this one almost vicious in its intensity, and his arms buckle slightly, locking at the elbow. He grunts beneath the force of it. Jon hears the sharp intake of Sansa’s breath, the hushed murmur of her brother’s name issuing forth in concern.

The sound coils something hot and unrelenting in his gut. He shoves off of Robb, panting, circling round again.

Robb circles similarly, a weary smile gaining on his face. “Not a leisurely spar then?” he chuckles, already winded.

Jon scoffs, but it isn’t a scornful sound. A dark mirth fills him. He thinks he might have liked this Robb Stark, had he known him before.

(Before – when Jon had once yearned for his mother’s family like a stupid, lost little boy. Before – when he’d been a stupid, lost little boy.)

“You don’t fight for leisure, either,” Jon muses, breath raking from him. “You fight to win.”

Robb shakes his head, still chuckling. “Aye, but at least I’m not so dour about it.”

Jon raises a brow, smirk tugging at his lips, unbidden. Another clash of their blades, a parry, a missed swing, a shove to the shoulder, grunting, feet shuffling across the yard, a kicked-up cloud of dust when one stumbles back, chests heaving, tunics soaked through with sweat. A clang, metal ringing sharp in the courtyard. Again, and again, and again. Neither knows how to relent.

Yes, he’d have liked this Robb Stark. If he thinks too long about it, he likes him even now. But Jon knows well enough to be wary of wolves.

Sansa’s image floods his mind, for she is a wolf, too, even in all her silk dresses and pretty courtesies. There is a flash of teeth behind that primly, pursed mouth, Jon knows. A bite as cool and cut as winter.

And he wonders suddenly – wildly – what that bite might taste like, whether that cool ice of hers would persist against the hot press of his tongue, what sounds she might make when he’s spreading her milk-white thighs apart to sink inside her.

Would she howl for him, as wolves are wont to do?

Jon’s chest heaves, a maddening heat suffusing him, and he blinks the image back furiously, barely managing to avoid Robb’s incoming swing. The edge of his blade swipes close to his chin, and Jon stumbles back at the near miss, ears catching the sudden intake of breath from the watching ladies, as well as Theon’s whoop of satisfaction. Jon steadies himself, wiping a hand across his sweat-slicked brow, dark curls plastered to his skin. He growls lowly, shifting his sword into an overhold, advancing on Robb. He is waning, he knows, but he will not lose. Not here, with her watching. Something about the thought lights a flare of resolve in him.

Jon feints right, parrying Robb’s blow and swinging round, blade coming at his side, and Robb barely manages to swing his sword back in time, but the force of Jon’s strike, caught at an awkward angle, trips him up, and he’s stumbling back, hand going out instinctively to brace his fall before righting himself just in time.

Except, not just in time.

Jon swings hard, sweeping Robb’s legs out from under him, and Robb lands back along the dirt with a rough grunt, breath winded from him, looking up to find the tip of Jon’s sword at his throat, a mirror to his earlier victory against Theon.

They stay staring at each other, breathing heavily, Jon’s eyes dark and focused, his hand never lowering.

“Well,” Margaery says with a smack of her lips, “That was a riveting win, wouldn’t you say, Lady Sansa?”

Jon blinks away the heady battle haze, arm lowering, stepping back a pace. He glances to her, still panting, tunic stuck to his chest with his sweat.

Sansa lifts her chin. “Valiantly done, my lord,” she says tightly, a hint of a scowl gracing her features, “For a man with royal training against an opponent already flagging from previous spars.”

“Sansa,” Robb admonishes from his place on the ground, looking up at her aghast.

Theon smothers his laugh in his fist, but not enough for Jon to miss it.

Margaery raises both brows at her friend in surprise, her amused smirk still steadily put.

Jon lets out a rueful laugh, voice rough. “It seems not much impresses you, Lady Sansa.”

She doesn’t answer, keeping her chin high. Theon steps toward them, picking Robb’s fallen sword up off the ground. “I think it’s one of her many virtues, actually,” he says smugly.

Jon throws a disdainful look his way. “I’m not particularly interested in what you think about my betrothed,” he warns.

Theon opens his mouth but never gets the chance to retort.

“Alright, Targaryen, you’ve had your fun. Now, are you going to help me up or not?”

Jon looks down at Robb leaning back in the dirt with an expectant look and a hand held out. He catches the laugh that threatens to escape at the image. His throat tightens, an unfamiliar ache settling in his stomach. He reaches out and grabs his hand, hauling the man up. Robbs dusts himself off, groaning softly when he stills with a hand to his side.

“Are you wounded, my lord?” Margaery asks, voice lilting gently, though the subtle thrum of concern is apparent even to Jon.

Robb scoffs, straightening. “Aye, at my lady’s complete lack of appreciation for my battle prowess, even considering such a brutal defeat.” He flashes a grin at Jon.

The expression is jarring in its ease. An honest grin, goading and friendly. Jon’s frown deepens, that soft, unexplainable yearning battering around his chest.

These damn Starks.

“I was breathless for the whole affair, I assure you,” Margaery promises, a charming smile accompanying the words.

Robb glances back to her, brow raised. “Is that so?” His voice is breathy, labored.

Sansa rolls her eyes. “Oh, go take a bath, Robb, you’re utterly filthy.”

Robb looks down at his muddied tunic and then narrows his eyes at Theon’s guffaw.

“You too, Theon Greyjoy. You’re worse than Robb.”

Theon’s laugh cuts off abruptly, glancing back at Sansa with a petulant frown.

Jon stares at her at the edge of the courtyard, eyes boring into hers. He doesn’t miss the way her gaze rakes quickly over his form, and he wonders if she will give him the same kind of fond tease, if she will remark on the way his tunic is fitted to his chest with sweat, or the way his curls are disheveled and damp from exertion. But she only purses her lips after her brief appraisal, turning fully to Margaery beside her. “Shall we go for a walk?”

Margaery links her arm more surely through Sansa’s, turning them already. “Yes, let’s,” she agrees.

With a duo of curtsies, Sansa and Margaery leave the courtyard, skirts swaying in their wake. Jon watches her go for long moments. When he looks back, he finds Theon staring at him, a deep furrow to his brow, not even bothering to hide his scowl.

Jon cocks his head at him, inviting whatever scathing comment is languishing on his tongue. But Theon only shakes his head, hefting both his and Robb’s swords over his shoulder, turning to the Northern heir. “I should go find Bran. Reckon he’s dodging his lessons with Ser Rodrik.”

Robb nods, clapping him on the shoulder in farewell, and Theon leaves without a backwards glance.

“You know,” Robb says, once they’re left alone in the training yard, “You don’t seem to be making much headway with my sister.”

Jon arches a brow at him, unsure whether to laugh or groan or sneer at the jab. A disbelieving scoff leaves him. That curl in his gut, it doesn’t seem to leave these days. Certainly not when he’s surrounded by maddening Starks.

“She can be…” He stops, considers, rolling the words along his tongue, “Difficult.”

Robb snorts a laugh. “And you haven’t even met Arya, yet,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

Jon gives him a questioning look.

He sobers up easily, gaze going to the space Sansa had occupied. “The thing is,” he says, tone disconcerting and inexplicably low, “Sansa generally gives people the benefit of the doubt. Looks for the good in them. And she’s never discourteous.” He looks to Jon sharply then, eyes probing. “Which makes me wonder what the hell it is you’ve done to make her so.”

Jon sucks a breath through his teeth, gaze never relenting on Robb.

Just a common brute, he imagines her thinking, remembering the heat of her glare when he’d dragged her into his arms.

(And why should it matter? The thought pesters at the edge of his mind, insistent.)

“I’ve not harmed her, if that’s what you’re implying,” he near growls.

Robb considers him a moment, cocking his head at him. “No,” he muses softly. “No, she wouldn’t allow that.”

You will unhand me, my lord.

It’s not a line he means to toe again.

“And I don’t believe you would,” Robb says finally, eyeing him still.

It shouldn’t make him feel like this – grateful and relieved and seen. Least of all, by a Stark. And yet here he is, greedily taking in his words, that recognition.

A tendril of copper hair just out of reach, a glance of frost-blue eyes, throat pale and slender and gulping beneath his calloused touch.

The searing impression of her earnestness, frail and genuine.

No, he would not hurt her.

The realization is startling in its sincerity.

“Forgive me, my lord, for my bluntness,” Robb begins, face grave, “But Sansa is a tender sort, too tender for her own good sometimes, and whatever it is that’s between you two, whatever it is that’s…hardened her, I do not care for it.”

Jon blinks at Robb’s sudden fervency, mouth parting, but no words coming forth.

“As a brother yourself, I think you can understand that,” Robb says.

The bile is ripe at the back of his throat, and Jon has to swallow back that slice of shame.

(Not how one is supposed to love.)

His head feels too foggy, his chest too tight. The words sink, weighted, along his tongue, until his throat is rife with them. “I’ve no intention of hurting your sister.”

No intention, it’s true, but he thinks he might have already, all the same. He grinds his jaw, hand curling over the hilt of the sword still in his grip. “She’s to be my wife, after all. And I take care of my own.”

I don’t want anything from you.

He pushes the words from his mind, the remembrance carving a place between his ribs to anchor there.

Because what could he possibly mean to her outside of duty?

“Then take care of her,” Robb says, the hint of a demand coloring his words, “Properly.”

Jon gives an incredulous chuckle, rueful and unexpected, hand tightening over the hilt of his sword. “From one brother to another?”

“Aye.”

“She’s not been an easy sort to live with, has she?”

Robb barks a laugh. “Aye, I’ll give you that.”

Jon flashes a knowing smile at Robb, the ease of it unfamiliar and jarring. It’s not an unwelcome feeling though, and perhaps this is where it begins.

The blur. The downfall.

Robb’s smile wavers somewhat, a hesitancy marring his charm. He takes a breath, his sudden frown thoughtful, his eyes a soft-hued blue. “Do right by her, my lord. I promise, she will always do right by you.”

It’s not said as a demand or a warning or a compromise. It’s said like a promise, knowing and comforting. Like an embrace.

Like a brother.

She’ll always do right by you.

Somehow, he believes it.

Jon glances to the spot Sansa had previously occupied, his recollection of her playing like shadow on his mind.

“Valiantly done, my lord.” A paltry concession.

And why should it matter? That thought – that plaguing, insistent thought. He thinks he understands now, loathe as he is to admit it.

It matters because suddenly, inexplicably, Jon finds he cares what she thinks of him.

It matters because her opinion of him means something now.

Jon swears beneath his breath.

Fucking Starks.

He’s going to regret this, he knows. He’s going to regret every bit of this.

#jonsa #from instep to heel #my writing #jon snow #sansa stark #jon x sansa #jon and sansa #jonsa fic #game of thrones #got fanfic

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71tenseventeen · 5 years

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Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too)-26

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25 Warnings for sexual content, male pregnancy, implied homophobia, non-hockey Sid. Sid and Taylor’s ages have been altered to fit the story.

Perpetual credit to my betas, @queen-alia and @icosahedonist and to @cakemakethme and @ljummen for helping me along!

November

The heat breaks in October but November finally brings the cool, crisp air that Sid has been waiting for and not a moment too soon. He’s past most of the nausea but even when the temperatures had first dropped to something more manageable, he’d still felt uncomfortably warm most of the time. Most days he’d puttered around in his increasingly snug basketball shorts and any variety of Pens tees that seemed to be constantly popping up on his side of the closet.

It’s not until it’s finally chilly enough for him to pull on his sweats that he realizes he’s nearly outgrown those too, much to Geno’s delight.

“Is good thing you growing, Sid! Means baby growing too, getting big and strong. Most healthy.” He chatters as Sid works up a sweat struggling into the pants before collapsing on the bed with a frustrated groan.

“I know,” he sighs, wriggling around until his head is propped up on several pillows so he’s not laying flat anymore. “It’s just these were my favorite and now they barely fit.”

Geno sits next to him, lowering a gentle hand to his belly. “Time to buy new. Need warm clothes for winter and you only going to keep growing.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“We get online after breakfast, order you lots of clothes.”

“G—”

But Geno cuts him off. “If you not show what you like, I order what I like.”

That gets Sid’s attention and he finally raises his head. “Okay, you win! Please don’t do that. I’ll pick out some clothes.”

Geno laughs and pats Sid’s thigh before standing up and extending a hand to help him up. “Thought you might change mind.”

When clothes start arriving just two days later, Sid doesn’t even balk. It’s so nice to have clothes that fit or are even big on him. He’s so grateful that he just hugs Geno, thanking him profusely.

Sid starts to feel settled in a way he hadn’t thought possible. He has routines now, structuring most of his days around online classwork, exercise, naps, practice and the part time online tutoring job he picked up. When Geno is home, he joins Sid for walks around the property once or twice a day and even does yoga with him occasionally.

Geno tries to go to as many appointments with Sid as possible and he’s there the day Dr. Agarwal does the ultrasound that reveals their baby’s sex.

Realistically, it doesn’t matter. Geno’s been dragging tiny Pens clothes, stuffed animals and baby things home here and there since before Sid moved in. They’ve started looking at baby furniture online and even settled on a pale, creamy gray to paint the room that will be converted to a nursery.

Knowing the sex of the baby won’t change any of that but Sid still finds himself unable to stop smiling after the doctor says they’re having a boy.

And Geno—Geno is elated.

The moment Sid sits up Geno is reaching for him, pulling him into a tight hug, speaking low Russian in his ear—way too fast for Sid to parse out even one familiar word so he just lets it wash over him. When they finally pull apart, he’s surprised to see Geno’s eyes a little shiny and red. He’s still smiling, though and Sid laughs softly. “I guess I didn’t realize how much you wanted a boy.”

Geno shakes his head. “Not matter, Sid. Don’t care if boy or girl just special to know. Not sure I can explain but it feels even more real now. Knowing this feels like I know our baby a little more, know him a little more.”

Sid gets it so he just nods, beaming up at Geno as he replies softly, “Yeah.”

The moment they’re in the car, Geno reaches over to squeeze Sid’s hand. “He needs a name.”

Sid takes a deep breath. He’s been thinking about that, has even spent time flipping through baby name books but now it feels even more important.

That night they eat dinner side by side, flipping through list after list of baby names on Geno’s tablet.

Two days later Sid stares at his phone, willing himself to dial his parents number.

They’d decided together to wait a couple of days—not because it’s a secret but they just wanted a little time to bask in the news before dealing with all the tension of talking to their parents. But now it’s time; after breakfast Geno had squared his shoulders, squeezed Sid’s wrist and headed to his office to call his parents while Sid settles on the couch to do the same.

Trina answers and just as expected her voice goes tense when Sid asks, “Is Dad there too? I was hoping to talk to both of you.”

“Oh?” She asks, obviously trying and failing to sound casual. “Everything okay?”

“Great actually,” he replies, trying to keep his tone cheerful. “We, um, we got some news.”

“Give me a second—I’ll get your Father”

Sid waits while she rounds up Troy and puts the call on speaker so they can both hear.

“Hey kiddo.” Troy sounds tentative.

“Hey Dad. I just wanted to tell you guys—It’s a boy. We’re having a boy.” He can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face as he says it.

He hears a moment of Troy’s deep chuckle before Trina exclaims, “Oh Sidney! That’s wonderful!” She really sounds like she means it and he feels giddy as he tells them more about the appointment.

Sid hears the feigned nonchalance return to her voice when she asks carefully, “Does—did you tell the other dad?”

“He was there with me, actually. We found out together and he’s—” Sid doesn’t think happy even halfway covers Geno’s current mood but he can’t imagine how to put it into words. “He’s really happy. We both are. I mean, we would have been happy either way but knowing is just… it’s like we know him now. It’s kind of cool.”

Trina’s voice sounds a little choked when she replies. “I know exactly what you mean, Sidney.”

“Mom are you crying?”

He hears a soft laugh and a sniffle. “Just happy tears.”

“So uh,” Troy starts as Trina blows her nose loudly in the background. “Is living together still working out? Are you two getting along?”

“Yeah of course. He’s great. He’s… He’s just really, really great.”

“And you’re getting by? Financially?”

“Yes,” Sid says. If they only knew. “Did I tell you I found a job tutoring online part time? I don’t make much but I’m saving it all.”

“And he’s, ah, paying for everything else? He makes sure you have what you need?” Troy asks awkwardly, startling a laugh out of Sid.

“More than enough, Dad. Trust me. Sometimes I can’t get him to stop buying me stuff.”

“He must have a good job if he can do that.”

Sid clears his throat. “Yeah, it’s—yeah he’s got a really good job.” Part of him hopes they’ll let it drop. They don’t.

“What does he do?” Now it’s Troy’s turn to fake sounding casual.

Sid’s not entirely sure why he hasn’t told them the full truth yet. Geno has said it’s okay. Taylor knows. And realistically, it would hopefully take away their concerns about his financial situation but he knows it’s not that simple. He worries telling them will bring up a whole host of new questions and until now, he hasn’t felt ready to tackle that. But he’s never going to get a better opening and they have to find out sometime so he takes another deep breath and says quietly, “He, um, he plays hockey. Professionally.”

There’s a long pause and Sid tries to slow his breathing, anxiety rising every moment his parents remain silent.

“He’s—he plays hockey. What do you mean professionally?”

“Um, he’s in the, uh, NHL. On the Pens, the captain, actually.”

“That’s who you’re living with?!” Sid knew Troy would know perfectly well who Geno is but he doesn’t think he’s ever heard his dad’s voice squeak like that.

“Yes and I’m really sorry but you can’t tell anyone.”

There’s a long pause before Troy speaks again, voice gruff. “Why?”

“Come on Dad. An NHL Captain? It could be really bad if it got out.”

“So he’s keeping you and the baby a secret.”

“No. The team knows, most of the organization knows. He has their support and he’s working with PR.”

“And PR wants you to be kept a secret.”

“I know how it sounds but this is a decision we both made. He’s Russian, Dad! Do you understand what that means? If this gets out here it could be bad for both of us, but if it gets out there? It will be a lot worse than just some people being shitty about it. We have to be really careful.”

“So this is all about protecting him.”

“No. No!” Sid huffs, frustrated. “He’s doing everything he can to protect all of us!”

“This is not good, Sid. You have to understand why this worries us.”

“I do but you have to trust me. The people we’re working with have a lot of experience—legally and with public relations. They know what they’re doing. I trust them.”

There’s a pause before Troy clears his throat and says tentatively. “Your, ah, your mother and I have some money set back. Maybe we should think about getting you your own lawyer.”

“That’s not necessary, Dad.”

“Sid, he could take the baby and it would be very, very hard to get your rights back. Money talks. But if you have some protection, some insurance beforehand—”

“No.” Sid does is best to sound firm—he has to shut this down. “We’re not doing that.”

“But—”

“I’m not doing that and I’m not going to argue about it.”

He hears Troy sigh heavily. “Okay Sid. If we have to keep it a secret for now then that’s what we’ll do but only for you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Sid wraps up the call as quickly as he can after that, muddling through the awkward goodbyes.

After he ends the call, he drops the phone onto the cushion next to him and closes his eyes, breathing deeply until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He twists to look up into Geno’s worried, weary eyes.

“You okay?”

Sid nods before letting out a long breath. “Yeah. It’s just stressful, that’s all. Are you okay?”

Geno nods, looking just as worn out as Sid feels but before he can say anything else Geno lifts his other hand. “Here. Think this might help,” he says with a soft smile as he hands over the pint of Sid’s favorite chocolate marshmallow swirl and a spoon.

Sid smiles, taking it gratefully as Geno rounds the couch and settles in next to him.

The first bite is heavenly. “You’re right,” he mumbles around a mouthful. “This helps.” He scoops out another spoonful and holds it out to Geno. “Want some?”

“Shouldn’t. Not on meal plan.” But he takes the bite anyway, grinning at the laughter that bubbles up out of Sid.

He settles in closer, reaching for Sid’s ever-growing belly. “Okay?”

Sid smiles softly. “Always.”

Geno hunches down a little more, sliding his hand under Sid’s shirt as he starts talking, rubbing idly as he talks quietly. It always relaxes Sid and he doesn’t think he’s imagining the way the baby settles, too. He lets the soft words wash over him as he leans into Geno’s side, letting the stress of the phone call slip away. Maybe Sid’s parents don’t understand how lucky he is, how lucky the baby is to have Geno but he does and right now that’s all that matters.

Part 27

#Take My Hand #sidgeno #My fic #part 26 #mpreg

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roseamongroses · 4 years

Text

W.A.L: “Hold My Hand” (25)

s u m m a r y

Eden was the lowest of the low, a monster, hardly human, and was set to be executed. Roman was on trial, perpetually stuck in time until it was time to atone for his families sins.Neither cared much for staying trapped.So when a Stranger offered freedom, offered peace, offered power, it was hard to say no.Even if it put them on the wrong side of history.

v i b e s

time is irrelevent, homophobia who?, magic and beasts, demigods

w a r n i n g s

Imprisonment, Mentions of execution, Blood/ injuries, Mentions of past Death, repression, cursing, some dissociation

c h a r a c t e r s

Deceit(Eden) Sanders, Remy Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Emile Picani, Elliot, Kai, Lauren, Dot

Ship: Roceit

1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

(6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

(12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17)

---

Deceit entered with the sunrise, the bed creaking as they eased in beside Roman.

Roman sighed, turning and curling into their lap, “You smell funny,” he mumbled, voice still heavy with sleep.

Deceit arm wrapped around Roman’s shoulders, careful to avoid his exposed wings, “Good morning to you too,”

“Did you get much sleep?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Deceit sighed, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Roman opened his eyes, folding his arms to support his head, “Is there something I should be worried about?” he asked, coy.

Deceit’s lips twitched, “Don’t be nosy,” he said, not missing how Roman’s eyes narrowed, “I’m fine, just get some rest,” he added on quickly.

“I dun’wanna,” Roman pouted, all puppy dog eyes, but Deceit could hear their anxiety edging into the tone.

“Stop that,” Deceit scolded, prodding their face, “I’m fine—” another poke, “Sleep.”

Romans face twisted away from another poke, sitting up abruptly, “Okay so you’re fine,” he said, “You’re used to fine and obviously fine isn’t doing shit for you,”

Deceit met their state head-on, jaw ticking, “I’m working on it,”

“Are you?” Roman challenged, somehow managing to look smug with his disheveled clothes and adorable half-dazed look—

“Yes, I am,” Deceit gritted swallowing that mess of emotions. He was half annoyed at Roman’s persistence but he was more annoyed with the fact that he knew it didn’t make him magically be able to hate Roman. Ugh. “Even if I wasn’t, that doesn’t mean you’d be able to fix me,”

At that, something flickered in Roman’s eyes and for a brief, terrifying moment Deceit had to seriously contemplate the extent of Romans persuasion. Roman couldn’t really—

“I can’t,” Roman agreed as he tucked his legs, “I won’t.

“But…” Roman sighed, “Janus, that isn’t the first time you’ve been like… that. And I understand that you can’t just make yourself stop but, “ he paused, wringing his hands, “That doesn’t mean there aren’t ways to make it better. If you’re hurting I don’t want to add onto it just because I make I stupid mistake or can’t read you right. I’m trying to talk about it now because a lot of the times when you do shut down you can’t talk to me. - you can’t say ‘don’t do this you’re hurting me’ and it’s just… scary not knowing what to do.”

“I…” Deceits chest clenched, “What if I don’t know what to tell you,” he said, face darkening, “Sometimes I want to be touched sometimes I… need to be alone. And other times… I feel like if you do stay near me you’ll only get hurt,”

“Well it’s a start,” Roman said, “So what do you need right now?”

“Need?” Deceit scoffed, “I don’t need anything,”

Roman rolled his eyes, “Okay tough guy, “ he said, “What do you want,”

Deceit opened his mouth then he froze, promptly closing his mouth, eyebrows knitted as he thought. After a few seconds he patted the space beside him, not looking at Roman, “I’m tired,” he said, cautiously, “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Okay,” Roman eyed curiously, “Are you fine with cuddling or no?”

“Yes,” Deceit said, a bit too quick.

“Yes to what?” Roman teased.

“Don’t be a dick.”

Roman smiled, crawling beside Deceit and slipping back under the covers. He wrapped his arms around Deceit’s waist, face nestling in the crook of their neck as Deceit relaxed.

The bed wasn’t as luxurious as the one in at The Offerings, but it wasn’t as cramped as the one they had prior--it was just right. Everything was new, but Deceit felt it all clicking together just right, as if maybe he stumbled onto being something of substances after all. Something that was his to choose and share, as if he had something of worth and for once the world was finally letting him be.

The sun rose steadily outside, it’s patches of light warming Deceits skin as he slowly fell asleep.

---

You don’t really comprehend being in the same house with four kids until you experience it. Sure, Deceit’s dealt with the brats, but they were all teenagers and he didn’t feel the same degree of anxiety when they were being dumbasses. Hell, he didn’t even feel comfortable saying the Sanders kids were being dumbasses because they were actual children.

After Lauren, there were the triplets; Sofia, Vivian, and Marie. All adorable and strikingly resembling their mom with thicker, kinker hair and soft, dark eyes. They apparently had chaotic tendencies, with them invading Roman’s bed and dragging him out of bed a, seemingly unbothered by Deceit’s presence if not a little curious. Deceit told them apart by how many baby teeth they were missing and how clingy they were to Roman.

Roman stood at the counter fixing some food, while Marie remained attached to his waist, “Aren’t you going to wake them up?” he asked, head gesturing back to the hallway towards the brats rooms.

Deceit dumped more sugar into his coffee, “Mm, not today,” he said, idly watching as Vivian and Sofia arranged their dolls at the smaller table-- aka Sofia bossing around Vivian who looked increasingly agitated, “Apparently dickhead is taking us on a field trip later today, so I thought it’d be best to let them get some sleep,”

“Who’s dickhead?” Marie frowned.

Roman inhaled, giving Deceit a dry look, “He’s a bad man that you won’t ever have to meet,” he explained matter of fact, setting aside a plate a food, “Make sure you eat your vitamins,”

Marie’s face scrunched up for a moment before she nodded, detaching herself and grabbing the plate. After the other two girls grabbed their plates, taking them to their table, Roman turned to Deceit with a raised eyebrow, “Really?”

Deceit lifted the cup to his lips, “Am I not allowed to curse?” he mused, leaning against the counter next to Roman.

“Try to keep it to a minimum,” Roman sighed, “Especially around Tami, she’s like a sponge,” he mumbled, picking at his own bowl of fruit.

“I thought she was still nonverbal?”

“She is,” Roman popped a blueberry in his mouth, “But she learns quick. So if she does have her first words I’d never hear the end of it from Ma if it’s something vulgar,”

Deceit snorted, “Your mouth is filthier than mine,” he said.

“You like my filthy mouth,” Roman muttered.

The two looked up at the sound of footsteps softly padding into the kitchen. Mrs. Sanders looked visibly disheveled, Tami holding her hand--eyes trained on the ground. She yawned, “Mornin,” she said to no one in particular, her eyes flicking between the two, something akin to exasperation settling on her face, “Roman, dear, I thought you outgrew sneaking boys into the house,”

“I didn’t, I just got better at it,” Roman shrugged, “There’s coffee still in the pot--” he offered, his gaze flickering down to Tami, “Do you want me to make her something?”

Mrs. Sanders rubbed her eyes, before pulling out her glasses, “That be lovely, just make sure it isn’t sweet she hates it--,” she sighed, “Also I’m not your father, and you’re not the heir anymore so you don’t have to hide your boyfriend. But,” she pursed her lips, “If he stays here, you’re going to have to use protection.”

Deceit choked on his coffee and Roman cleared his throat, face straight, but Deceit could spot the vines peeking from their sleeves, “There are seven kids in this house, hon,” Mrs. Sanders continued, gravely serious as she poured a cup, “I’m not taking care of anymore,”

“Yes ma’am,” Roman said. It was only when Mrs. Sanders left the kitchen for the porch did he side-eye Deceit, “Stop that,”

“Stop what?” Deceit set his cup down in the sink, watching them curiously.

“You’re staring,” Roman said, walking to the pantry and pulling out the lone box of oatmeal, “Stop.”

At that, Deceit grinned, moving himself in Roman’s way, “I thought you liked having my attention,” he mused.

“I do,” Roman said, easily sliding past them, “Which is why you need to stop,”

“Uh-huh,” Deceit said, following close, “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,”

“Fuck off--I’m not embarrassed,” Roman huffed, setting aside the box.

“Mhm,” Deceit said, winding his arms around Roman’s waist, pulling them close just as they turned around, “Kiss me?”

Roman’s glare faltered before slipping off altogether. He couldn’t mask his laugh, ducking his head to close the distance.

“You do realize we still have to talk about that?” Deceit murmured against their lips, “I know we’re not in any rush, but seeing as we don’t exactly have the same biology...”

Roman’s face twisted, hands resting on Deceit’s chest, “I’m fine with talking about sex it’s just… I don’t like talking about my body.”

“I know. I don’t either.” Deceit admitted.

“I…” Roman paused at that before nodding, “Later,” was all he promised.

---

Upon seeing Kai, Lauren, and Elliot successfully break into some magical zoo in less than an hour, Deceit began to consider that maybe, just maybe, he was surrounded by criminals.

All the faceless guards were taken care of, some in soundless pain, others passed out completely, so they slipped inside without issue. Once everything was secured, the Stranger strode inside leading the way with no further comment.

The moon hung in the sky. It was almost full.

All around them silver bars glinted, the cages themselves shadowed with the peering violet eyes hidden among the foliage.

Something about this place just wasn’t right, but the brats seemed to be having fun

Lauren was talking about some rare plant she spotted and Kai seemed placated by the rippling furs of creatures just out of reach. Of course, Elliot seemed uncomfortable, but they generally were whenever they went out with the Stranger.

The Stranger stopped abruptly, head craning to address the brats, “Y’all scram,” he shooed them, “This lesson is for Deceit,” he said with a smile.

That is when Deceit knew he was fucked.. But to the rest of them, it was normal and they all took the orders without comment or question, leaving Deceit with the Stranger once again.

Once they were out of sight, The Stranger’s smile slid off. He resumed his path forward, knowing that Deceit would follow.

The further Deceit walked the more the pit in his stomachs grew. Something was just wrong. He knew it and his mind scrambled trying to figure out if he did something wrong—which wasn’t helpful since he always did something wrong, but—

The Stranger stopped in front of a dark, cavern-like entrance. It was further away from all the cages, but it still held a commercial presence with cheery signs in odd languages and bright arrows pointing inside.

The Stranger propped himself against one of these signs, popping a lollipop on his mouth, “It’ll be a full moon soon,” he said to no one in particular, “You know…” he crunched the lollipop hard, spitting out the stick, “You’ve lasted longer then I expected.”

Deceit stared blandly and The Stranger sighed, “Still, you aren’t good enough,”

Only then did Deceits eyes narrowed, “I’ve been doing everything you asked,”

“Yes-Yes I know, you’re a good little dog aren’t you huh?”The Stranger said, “Still,”

“Still?” Deceit gritted. He could feel his anger sharp through the haze of worry.

“You’re getting a bit too—“The Stranger clicked his tongue, “Distracted—now don’t look like tha--t I won’t touch your little boy toy, that would be counterproductive to our cause,”

“So what do you want me to do?” Deceit managed, forcing his eyes to unslit, and ignoring the scales searing up his sides.

“Ah,” The Stranger laughed, “Now you’re asking the right questions and as a reward for not being entirely useless—” He flicked his sunglasses down and Deceit stiffened, “I’ll ask you a different question; what is our cause?”

“None of my business,” Deceit shrugged, “I am simply a tool who will benefit.”

“Very good,very simple right?” The Stranger hummed, “It’s easy for people to get scared of the bigger picture, but aren’t you just a little bit curious?”

“No,” Deceit lied.

“Good,”The Stranger flipped his glasses back up, covering his relentless gaze, “You’ll learn soon enough. Until then you need to push yourself further and I won’t tolerate any failure,” he gestured towards the cavern, “But just in case, here’s a little reminder about what you’ll be worth to the world if you do decide to fuck up,”

The Stranger didn’t follow him into the cavern, but Deceit could feel their mocking, cold gaze the entire time. Inside were fluorescent-lit exhibits, brightly colored informational posters and those arrows and—and—it was all terribly wrong.

Because behind each glass panel, were skeletons of all sizes; some with painted on whiskers others, with ancient feathers sticking from their arms, or scales carved deep into bone.

An exhibit of dead shifters, propped and polished for the public’s consumption.

As if they were nothing but monsters.

#ts sides #roceit #ts roman #ts deceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #Winners Among the Losing

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coneygoil · 5 years

Text

The Home We Built Together, part 28

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Writer’s note: Oh my word, this chapter turned out way longer than I thought it would!! Didn't think I'd ever get to the stopping point XD

Slight NSFW moment included!

Hiccup hadn’t slept this good in-- well, he didn’t know how long. He’d been bewildered yet incredibly aroused by stimulating his wife to the point of pleasure. Astrid had returned the favor, and this time, there was no shame or embarrassment when he came. Seeing Astrid come undone by just the simple act of wiggling his finger had spurred up enough courage to let her do the same for him.

He’d panted her name and seized up at the height of arousal, his seed spilling over onto her hand and his belly. Astrid had been curious about the sticky, white goo that had poured out. She’d stiffed it and rubbed it between her fingers. Hiccup would have probably felt all kinds of shades of embarrassment if he hadn’t collapsed onto his pillow with a hazy contentment about him.

Astrid fetched a wet rag and helped him clean up. Though his cheeks began to flare as she did, it was strangely intimate watching her wipe away the sticky cum from his belly. After the evidence of their activities was gone and clothes were properly replaced, Hiccup curled around Astrid, their bodies melding together. His leg pushed between both of hers, tangling their lower limbs. They couldn’t get close enough to each other.

Hiccup’s cheeks twitched. Nothing was touching him, but as he began to wake, he could feel a presence projected upon his skin. His eyes fluttered open, and through the slits of his vision, he found Astrid leaned inches away gazing at him. Or specifically, at his right cheek.

“What’re you doing?” he croaked out, throat thick from sleep.

“Counting freckles,” Astrid responded as if it was completely obvious.

Hiccup shifted his head, his cheek disappearing into the pillow.

“Hey! Now I lost my place!”

“Opps.” Hiccup closed his eyes again. Memories of the night before floated into his consciousness. He was about to revel in the way Astrid’s hand had stroked him when a pillow smacked him on the side of his head. Hiccup popped one eye open, glaring at his wife through that lop-sided view.

Astrid grinned down at him. “You asked for it.”

Hiccup wasn’t one to back down. He sprang to life, aiming for Astrid’s sides. He’d come to discover her sides were extremely ticklish when worked over the right way. He’d teased her about it one evening in bed, sneaking his hand under her gown and tickling her waist, until she punched him in the gut. This time he launched a full-blown attach.

Astrid squealed – a noise that rarely escaped passed her lips – and thrashed as his fingers danced along the sides of her ribs and waist. She tried smashing his hands against her with her arms, but Hiccup dodged her. He knew she could easily stop him if she wanted to. Astrid seemed to enjoy their little game, even though it left her panting for air and made her cheeks light up.

She finally retaliated, nabbing both his wrists and slamming him back down onto his pillow. She hopped onto his legs and pinned his wrists beside his head. She was leaning over him. Her golden hair framed the sides of her face, a sheer contrast to her flushed cheeks. Her eyes danced with delight and bit of mischievousness. All Hiccup could do was stare at the gorgeous sight filling his view.

All too soon, Astrid sat up still seated on his lap and flexed her muscles. “Victory is mine!”

“Okay, you win, Buffstrid,” Hiccup tossed out with a laugh. Even though he’d given her the glory, Hiccup knew he’d been the one to win and his reward was being pinned down by his hot wife.

Astrid snorted at the nickname he’d given her. She wiggled a little on his lap, a slightly bemused look on her face. Hiccup shut his eyes, trying to stop a groan from escaping across his parted lips.

She smirked. “Hiccup Haddock,” a faux shocked tone held her voice. “Again? You must have enjoyed last night.”

Eyes still screwed shut, Hiccup couldn’t help the little whimper when Astrid wiggled against him. She knew how to be a torturous little vixen. “It happens. In the morning.”

Something dawned on her face. “Is that why you’re always up before me?”

Hiccup bit his bottom lip before squeaking out, “Maybe.”

Astrid leaned over him, pinning his wrists that hadn’t moved from where she’d left them on the pillow. Hiccup’s heart began to speed up at the sight of her filling his view, a luscious little smirk playing on her lips. “We don’t have dragon training this morning, which means we can fly Toothless farther today. And—”

Astrid closed the gap between them, lowering into a tender kiss that made Hiccup’s heart melt. She disconnected with a little pop, Hiccup chasing after her for as far as his neck could reach.

“I can take care of this—” she slid her belly on his harden length to emphasize the word, “for you.”

Hiccup released a ragged breath. He held back a deafening scream of YES and settled for a more suave approach. “Whatever you wish, milady.”

***

Toothless was especially anxious to get into the air. He’d bounded up to them in greeting, barely receiving any scratches before he nudged Hiccup up into the saddle. The dragon was always ready to go for a flight, but he was almost to the point of impatient today.

They climbed into the saddle after Hiccup had inspected the rigging while Astrid slung the saddlebags over Toothless’ barrel back. “Let’s go, bud,” Hiccup said, and they shot off at a record speed.

Hiccup had planned to travel due South, but Toothless had been insistent to journey North West. Hiccup went along with his dragon’s decision. Toothless had an opinion too. He was an individual as much as Hiccup was, so Hiccup let the dragon choose this time.

They flew for a few hours only encountering sea stacks and small sporadic islands, not even big enough to take an hour to trek. Toothless soared particularly fast as if he were on a mission. When Hiccup leaned over Toothless’ ear to ask where they were going, the dragon warbled and pointed his nose straight ahead.

“Do you think he’s bringing us somewhere in particular?” Astrid asked close to Hiccup’s ear. Her arms had alternated between being wrapped around his waist to clutching his shoulders to resting on her legs. Currently, they were snaked along his waist.

“With the way he’s acting, I think he does.”

They traveled for another half an hour when they spotted a grey mass looming across the horizon. The closer they flew the easier it was to see it was a wall of dense fog that stretched for miles with no end in sight. As they quickly approached, Astrid gasped and leaned into Hiccup’s back, “This must be Helheim’s Gate.”

“I think you’re right, and it’s exactly where Toothless is taking us.”

Hiccup’s blood ran cold as they crossed the veil into the unknown. Just like the edge of the map where the world ends and monsters lurk, there was no guarantee that they’d escape the world inside the perpetual fog. Toothless was on a mission, and Hiccup trusted his dragon to bring them safely through. It was everything else within the veil that he worried him.

The pressure around his middle increased as Astrid pressed into his back, melding them together. Toothless swooped this way and that, dodging jagged rock formations and Viking long boat figureheads jutting up like a dragon frozen in the icy mist. Hiccup wasn’t sure how long they had flown through the veil. With the sun hidden away, there was no way of telling. Minutes or an hour could have passed. The moisture of the fog dampened their clothing and left an icy chill on their skin. Astrid remained against him, barely shifting. Her chin dug into his shoulder guard, but Hiccup didn’t have the heart to let her know it was causing an ache. She was just as nervous about this venture as he was, and if her position gave her any comfort, he’d live with the shoulder ache.

Like a curtain that had been rent in two, they suddenly broke through the veil of fog. Hiccup’s eyes widened at the sight up ahead. Protruding from the sea was a massive rock formation that pierced the sky with jagged spikes. A reddish gleam spewed from the top, casting flickering shadows in the air. A narrow stream of lava escaped from a crack and spilled in a slow line down the side of the mountain. Toothless flew toward what Hiccup guessed was a volcano (he’d heard of volcanos but had yet to see one with his own eyes) and touched down on the rocky shore surrounding it. The fog was less dense at the base, but a thin layer still hung around their legs.

Toothless looked back at them and warbled, Hiccup taking that as a suggestion to dismount. “Where are we, bud?” Hiccup asked as if his dragon could give him an answer.

“Wherever we are,” Astrid said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t think we’re supposed to be here.” She looped her arm around his, keeping close.

An eeriness clung to the air sending an involuntary shiver up Hiccup’s spine. Neither of them assumed they’d need a weapon. If they needed defending, Toothless could easily blast whatever threat it was with his firepower. This place wasn’t just a random island to explore. This place seemed like a forbidden kingdom they had no right setting foot on. Even Hiccup wished he had his sword.

They’d flown for hours. Hiccup was positive Toothless had wished to bring them here. Maybe it was his home island where he had been born. Maybe there was a family of Night Furies that was kin to Toothless and were awaiting his return. Hiccup hadn’t thought much of where his dragon had come from. Toothless had never acted anxious to leave the island of Berk. Until today.

“Toothless, are you sure about this?” Hiccup reached for the saddle to sling his leg over the dragon’s back, to have that security of a quick getaway, but Toothless pulled away. He snuffed at them through his nostrils then tilted his head upwards, releasing a roar that echoed off the volcano.

A nail-biting moment passed and then a responding roar rang out from the mountain, shaking rocks out of place sending them tumbling down to the pebbled shore. Hiccup and Astrid drew closer to Toothless’ side, Astrid clutching his shoulders in a vice grip. From a hole inside the mountain emerged a dark stream of dragons. A larger species, possibly a Monstrous Nightmare, led a rain of dragons of all different species. In formation, they pointed up toward the sky then downwards, soaring straight for them. Astrid’s grip had moved to clutching the straps of his shoulder guards, tightening the restraints on his chest. Hiccup kept his hand ready to grab Toothless’ saddle if they needed to make a hasty getaway.

The band of dragons touched down in a powerful swoosh of wings and claws crunching rocks. The Monstrous Nightmare, who was clearly the leader of the band, glared ominously at them through his bright yellow eyes. His crimson red pattern, streaked with black jetted stripes, gleamed through the hazy air in a wicked display.

A chill crawled up Hiccup’s spine. This wasn’t the Nightmare they’d befriended in the arena. This was a wild dragon from an island that was most likely it’s home; it’s territory to defend and tear apart anything that trespassed. The Nightmare’s clan seemed ready to do just that if the dragon gave the command.

Toothless grunted and warbled at the Nightmare as if he were explaining something. He flicked his tail, showing the band of dragons his prosthetic. The Nightmare snorted in response. He glanced up at the volcano as if checking to see if any other dragons were watching. Then the larger dragon switched its gleaming eyes back to the two human invaders. He narrowed his gaze at them. Hiccup instinctively stepped back only to push into Astrid’s chests. He could feel her rapid heartbeat through both their shirts.

Toothless glanced back at them, and nudged Hiccup encouragingly with his nose. Hiccup looked at his dragon with eyes blown wide, all his recent life choices banging around in his head. Toothless had brought him here for a purpose. If he was going to befriend dragons and bring peace to Berk, he’d have to take this next step. He’d place his full trust in his best friend and in the wild dragon standing before him. Change did not come without risk. He just hoped Astrid wouldn’t leave this place on Toothless’ back as a widow.

With his brow furrowed in determination, Hiccup moved to take a step forward, only to be stopped by the tug of his shoulder guard straps.

“Hiccup,” Astrid’s shaky voice whispered close to his ear.

“It’ll be okay, Astrid,” he reassured, firmly. She was always strong for him; it was his turn to be strong for her. Hesitantly, she released his straps, her trust placed in him that he was doing the right thing.

Hiccup approached the Nightmare, hand outstretched and heart slamming into his ribcage. The Nightmare stood still, its warm breath leaving moisture on Hiccup’s chilled skin. Hiccup paused right before making contact with the dragon’s snout. He turned his head and closed his eyes and waited an eternity for the uncertainty to end. His heart ceased to beat as heated scales pressed into his palm. He barely registered Astrid’s gasp over the flood of his heart pumping again.

Hiccup dared to look at the Nightmare, it’s glowing yellow orbs piercing his soul. It’d worked. This wild dragon that he’d never seen in his life had offered an olive branch of friendship to him without any qualms.

The Nightmare pulled back, its eyes snapping open and grunted several times at Toothless. With that, the Nightmare gave a low, rumbling roar and the band of anxious dragons took to the air. Their large form disappeared back into a hole in the mountain. A long beat of silence lingered as they watched the band leave.

“What was that?” Hiccup jumped as Astrid’s voice sliced the thick quiet.

“I’m not sure.” Toothless had brought them here for a purpose. Hiccup guessed it was up to him to figure it out.

Toothless warbled intently at them, nodding for them to climb on. The Night Fury was off like a shot barely before both teens had hit the saddle. Astrid yelped as they zoomed off, her arms clinging to Hiccup again. They reached upwards then disappeared back into the veil of fog that seemed to perpetually shroud the volcanic island. They’d flown for at least five minutes when Toothless made a wide circle back around.

“Toothless, why’re we going back?” Hiccup asked. He wasn’t quite sure how far they’d traveled.

The swish of many wings suddenly surrounded them. Claws as long as both Hiccup and Astrid were tall, swung close to their heads, and a Monstrous Nightmare flew into view directly in front of them. The squawk of a Nadder rang out beside them as Toothless dodged another in-coming dragon.

“Get down!” Hiccup hissed at the sight of a Hideous Zippleback just a wingspan away from them. In it’s talon was a plump sheep. A plump, dead sheep. The dragon’s two heads narrowed their gazes at them but made no effort to attack.

Shapes of dragons littered the fog all around them. Dozens upon dozens of them. All carrying something in their claws. Something dead.

“What’s going on?” Astrid asked, sandwiching Hiccup between her and Toothless’ neck.

Hiccup knew exactly what was going on. A raid had happened, and he wondered if Berk had been the target. “It looks like they’re hauling in their kill.”

Astrid’s disquietude raised his concern. “Then what does that make us?”

Tags: @martabm90 @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e @celtictreemuffin @hey-its-laura-again

***

Note: This chapter is the start of a turning point with the dragons. I've been sitting on it for a few days after finishing bc I wanted to make sure this is how I wanted the storyline with the dragons proceed. Big things are coming!!

#httyd fanfiction #hiccstrid #arranged marriage au #the home we built together

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ayoub06me · 4 years

Text

The 25 Worst People Ever

While their square measure heaps of individuals we tend to may have enclosed on this list, we tend to were restricted to solely twenty-five slots. In several cases, our call was created for the U.S. because of the evil nature of the individuals’ crimes.

Moreover, there gave the impression to be a general agreement regarding what constitutes badness during a human. folks like potentate and commie square measure perpetually on these styles of lists (yes, they’re on ours as well).

The real challenge came, however, indecisive World Health Organization was the worst among the worst. repeatedly the individual’s infamy has become immortalized in legend, even to the purpose of redaction history.

So, we tend to acknowledge the subjective and polemical nature of such a task and that we encourage you to depart your own opinions within the comments below.

At any rate, we tend to gift to you our list of the twenty-five worst folks ever.

25-Attila the Hun

Attila wasn’t simply any Hun, he was the leader of the Huns, and beneath his rule, the Hunnic empire consisted of virtually something that didn’t fly a Roman flag. it’s been aforementioned that there’s no extant first-person account of his look, that isn’t shocking considering the fate of most of the people World Health Organization interacted with him.

However, he was a person with a passion for invasion. It had been a passion thus nice that on his thanks to acquiring his bride, Honoria, he determined to prevent in Italy…and destroy it. Razing a rustic on the eve of your wedding? unusually wicked.

24-Maximilien Maxmillien Marie Isidore de Robespierre

Generally speaking, revolutionaries tend to be lauded for his or her spirit and temperament to require a stand. Max, but — though being a frontrunner within the revolution — determined that he would rather live to tell the tale in infamy and instituted what has come back to be called the Reign of Terror.

As we tend to all grasp, anyone World Health Organization starts one thing known as a Reign of Terror belongs on an inventory of dangerous people…period.

23-Bloody Virgin Mary

Imagine your name is prefixed by the word “bloody”. That in itself ought to be enough to order a spot on our list. however, will that even happen? Queen of {england} of England, it seems, had a passion for burning folks at the stake, notably those that opposed her ideologies, thus the nickname.

22-Emperor Hirohito

This Japanese Emperor was the mastermind behind one thing that came to be called the Rape of Nanking (what was the capital of China). Raping the capital town of the foremost thickly settled nation on Earth? This list is for you.

21-Genghis Kha

Founded what would eventually become the biggest contiguous empire in history and nearly managed to overcome not only 1 however 2 continents. Compared to several folks on this list he was comparatively benign, however, a minimum of giving up the prospect to surrender before continuing to destroy everything in view.

Just to color an image of what that might seem like, some historians have calculable that the Iranian population didn’t come to pre-Mongol levels till someday within the late twentieth century.

20-Caligula

Sometimes it appears that being an Emperor was incongruent with maintaining your mental health. Case in purpose – this guy. What started with a touch gambling and wasteful outlay quickly became a circus of bloody mayhem.

But not solely did killing become his favorite recreation, however, he conjointly complete that he was God and so ought to have a sculpture of himself erected within the Temple of the capital of Israel for folks to worship. No marvel Rome burned to the bottom.

19-Muammar Gaddafi

Issuing troopers sildenafil to assist them rape and kill girls, indiscriminately capital punishment his folks, and sponsoring international terrorists, he was solely the second still-serving state leader in history to possess arrest warrants issued against him.

Translation: he was very, very dangerous at his job. thus dangerous if truth be told, that even Fidel Castro Ruz once delineated him as being reckless.

18-Ayatollah religious leader

Although the ruthlessness of this man ne’er ceased to astonish the trendy world, we tend to at List25 weren’t shocked by his lack of fine behavior. however does one expect your oldsters to discipline you with a reputation like religious leader As-Sayyid Ruhollah Mostafavi Musavi Khomeini?

17-Jeffrey Dahmer

Not solely did he kill seventeen men and boys, the murders all concerned rape, mutilation, mania, and pattern. to create things worse, he somehow got the concept that he may flip his victims into submissive “zombies” by drilling holes in their skulls and filling them with boiling water whereas they were still alive.

16-Nero

Yet another half-crazed Emperor. It’s laborious to be worse than having your mother dead and poisoning your blood brother. Oh, wait, however regarding burning prisoners in your garden in the dead of night as a supply of light?

last updated on Transfiguration, 2019

15-Jim Jones

The leader of the People’s Temple, a cult that was forced to relocate from the city to the jungles of South American nation wherever he managed to convinced over 900 of its members to kill themselves with cyanide. That’s the biggest loss of Yankee civilian life in one event before 9/11.

14-Saddam Hussein

For over twenty years leader served because the President of Asian nation instituting genocidal campaigns against the Kurds, Shabaks, Yazidis, Assyrians, and Mandeans.

What’s a lot of, he gave the impression to have Associate in Nursing impulsive need to manner} invade neighboring countries and once things didn’t go his way he would simply do away with his frustration on his people…with a chemical weapon.

13-Leopold II of Belgique

It’s spectacular that from such a little country may come back such a huge tyrant. Deciding that his country wasn’t large enough Leopold did what any leader would do and visited Africa…to begin his own. In what’s the contemporary Democratic Republic of the Congo, he managed to subject, torture, and kill over three million folks with great care he may sell some ivory.

12-Osama Usama bin Laden

As the face of the contemporary terrorist act and therefore the founding father of FTO, he lived an honest portion of his life with a $25 million bounty placed on his head by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. In spite of that, he managed to evade capture for the higher a part of 3 presidential administrations before tasting Yankee steel.

11-Mao Zedong

“Revolution isn’t a ceremonial dinner, nor Associate in a Nursing essay, nor a painting, nor a chunk of embroidery; it can’t be advanced softly, gradually, carefully, with consideration, with all respect, politely, plainly, and with modesty.

A revolution is an Associate in Nursing battle, Associate in the Nursing act of violence by that one category overthrows another. ”Well aforementioned Mao…exactly why we have a tendency to created guaranteed to reserve an additional spot on our list.

10-Idi Amin Dada

Few folks in history will say they’re directly accountable for killing 0.5 1,000,000 folks, and this Ugandan dictator is one in all them. In power from 1971 to 1979 his resume enclosed human rights abuse, political repression, ethnic ill-treatment, illegal killings, nepotism, corruption, and gross economic misdirection.

9-Dr. H. H. Holmes

One of the primary documented serial killers in Yankee history, he designed a building specifically for the aim of killing his guests. placed but two miles from the 1893 Chicago World’s honest, he would lure guests to “Murder Castle” wherever he had rigged all of the bedrooms with gas lines, soundproofing, lime pits, etc..

He would then proceed to torture and kill them, ultimately dissecting their bodies and commercialism the items to medical colleges.

8-Vlad the Impaler

You know you belong on this list once you square measure the only inspiration for the foremost illustrious evil spirit novel of all time – Dracula.

And to relinquish you a thought of why, here could be a list of a number of his favorite pastimes: nails in heads, alienating of limbs, blinding, strangulation, burning, alienating of noses and ears, accidental injury of sexual organs (especially within the case of women), scalping, skinning, exposure to the weather or animals, and boiling alive.

7-Judas Iscariot

6-Pol Pot

The leader of the terrorist organization and Prime Minister of Kingdom of Cambodia within the Seventies, he managed to relocate the whole population of the Kingdom of Cambodia onto farms wherever they slaved away planting seeds that might grow into food that nobody would be allowed to eat.

And this is often why we tend to study economics…so that in contrast to our pal political leader Pot, we tend to don’t starve a simple fraction of our population to death. however that’s not all, Pot {and the|and therefore the|and conjointly the} terrorist organization were also accountable for mass executions in places called Killing Fields.

And though nobody is sure of the toll, it’s been aforementioned that to save lots of ammunition, the executions were typically administrated victimization spades, axes, hammers, and sharpened bamboo sticks.

5-Elizabeth Bathory

A Hungarian Lady from the 1500’s World Health Organization has been labeled the “most prolific feminine serial murderer in history” and has come back to be called the “Blood Countess” or “Blood Queen”. we tend to at List25 believe those to be applicable titles for somebody speculated to bathe within the blood of virgins to take care of their youth.

According to court records, Elizabeth and several other accomplices would lure young ladies to their habitation so proceed to beat them, burn them, bite the flesh of their faces, freeze them, perform surgery on them, starve them, and abuse them sexually.

4-Adolf potentate

Ruining the lives of tens of many folks, being accountable for a lot of deaths than anybody else in history, and destroying a whole continent…all at intervals half dozen years? Words cannot describe.

3-Ivan IV

He was the primary of the Tsars and along with his resume, it’s shocking that the Russians allowed there to be any longer. throughout one in all his escapades to a European country, he had a thousand prisoners brought before him each day to be dead.

Assuming that he got a full night’s sleep (8 hours) that might mean witnessing one execution for each minute he was awake.

2-Joseph commie

To start with, he managed to starve a whole country (Ukraine). however as dangerous as that’s, it falls way wanting to showcase the amount of badness this man was capable of. In classic dictator fashion, he had several of his nighest friends and confidants dead. Total kill count: around sixty million.

1-Heinrich German Nazi

As the leader of the SS, Chief of German Police, and head of the secret police, he in person coordinated the deaths of nearly ten million folks and once the war was over not even his former colleagues wished something to try to to with him. Cyanide anyone?

There is little doubt that these square measure the worst folks ever! Did we tend to miss someone? World Health Organization does one assume ought to air this list. or even you’d value more highly to look at these twenty-five Leaders accountable for The Worst Genocides Ever Committed.

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mutfruittea · 5 years

Text

Fallout OC Interview

tagged by: No one, but this looks like fun and figured ‘why not?’

I’ll tag:

@mouseclarke

As well as anyone that wants to! If you were lookin’ at this and think “Oh man, that looks like fun. I wish I was tagged” CONSIDER YOURSELF TAGGED by me. ^-^

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer them as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same. *cough*

1. What is your name?

“Samantha Wright”

2. How old are you?

“A bit over 228. Give or take a few years. It’s a long story.”

3. What do you look like?

4. Where are you from? Where do you live now? “Ha! A small town in the middle of nowhere. I was attending University, in Texas, when I met my late husband. Shortly after we got married, he joined the military and that moved us around for a while. We were stationed near Boston when he was discarded… I mean discharged from the Army. This was all before the war. Another long story. Currently I live with my family in Diamond City.”

5. What was your childhood like? “Not much to say. My mother’s family was conservative; my father’s family was liberal and I’m the result of that co-parenting situation.”

6. What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

“I’m the General of the Minutemen and the Overseer of Vault 88.

I’d say I’m friendly with most groups in the Commonwealth, but a few of these groups have requested to remain anonymous.”

7. Tell me about your best friend. “Oh Nicholas? You’ve gotta remember to keep hydrated around him, because he is one S A L T Y sonofagun. He’s an alright detective too. You can tell him I said that.” *wink* “His office is behind Arturo’s, just follow the neon signs. I sincerely hope that you never need his services.

All joking aside, he’s a good man and an even better friend. The more I think about it, he’s more of an older brother at this point. I’m not sure where I’d be with out his help and support.”

8. Do you have a family? Tell me about them! “My son; Shaun and Sister-in-law; Natalie. Shaun has a perpetual thirst for answers that grows increasingly difficult to quench each passing day. He’s polite, smart and accepting of everyone. Even if they are not accepting of him…

Natalie is a pistol. She’s astute, quick witted and is ALWAYS giving Piper and I a run for our money with her debates. Recently, she’s been on about exploring the Commonwealth with us. We’ve pacified her with a promise to revisit the topic at the end of the school year. Boy… is she counting down the days. Ha! Honestly, I admire that fire within her.”

9. What about a partner or partners?

“My wife, Piper… “The spine of my book, which without my pages would scatter.” I don’t recall who or what that quote is from, but it’s the closest to describing how I feel about her.”

10. Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them? “I’ve heard of them. Hard to miss that massive entrance and announcement they made. I’ve worked with them sparingly. Our core morals and values don’t always line up.”

11. Who are your enemies, and why?

“The usual characters; Raiders, Gunners, Super Mutants, aggressive wildlife, etc. Preston doesn’t like it, but I usually don’t fire the first shot. I’d never ask this of those is one of our settlement or even of the Minutemen under my charge. It’s just a personal choice. I like make sure I’m not accidentally targeting a non-hostile. Yes, I lose the attack of opportunity, but there have been some close calls in the past.” *Pats Dogmeat’s head*

12. What about The Enclave? *apparent forced smile* “I haven’t had the pleasure.”

13. How do you feel about Super Mutants? “One of the reasons I rarely fire the first shot. The FEV process is brutal, but inconsistent. I’ve met a few Super Mutants that were altered physically, but not mentally. Interestingly enough, I discovered this anomaly is not isolated to just the Commonwealth. After some research and asking around, this has happened before in different areas around the States. Mind you, these are just rumors and personal experience.”

14. Have you ever fought a Deathclaw? “Oh yeah. OOOooohhh yeahhh.”

15. What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in? “The craziest? Oh my, it would have to be when defending the U.S.S. Constitution with Ironsides. Never in a million years would I have imagined myself fighting scavengers off a land-bound ship along, side a robot that fired missiles and wore a bicorn hat. If it wasn’t for the evidence on top of that skyscraper, I’d think It was just a fever dream.”

16. Do you like fighting? “No, but there are times when a person is called to do things they don’t particularly enjoy.”

17. What’s your weapon of choice?

“I know it’s controversial, but I rarely leave home without my laser riffle. Especially since Shaun built most of the modifications on it. It’s sentimental to me if nothing else.”

18. How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?) “I’m not the strongest, perceptive or most agile. My mother used to say I had “the endurance of a goldfish on land, but could sell a scuba tank to a seahorse.” I’m not entirely sure that was a compliment or not.”

[[ S 4 - P 4 - E 4 - C 10 - I 7 - A 4 - L 10 ]]

19. Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them? “Yes, I have… I think what VaultTech has done is deplorable. The idea of a safe place to survive the war was a good one, but the human testing was not. While not all the experiments caused bodily or even psychological harm, the subjects were unaware, let alone consenting, of being participants.

The Vaults themselves are standing the test of time pretty well and make excellent, secured settlements. I’ve been working with the Overseer of Vault 81, another Vault where the scheduled experiments failed. Her advice has been essential in establishing Vault 88, though… we have a BIT more of an open-door policy.”

20. How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?

“Avoiding it when I can, wearing a hazmat suit when I can’t, keeping Rad-X and Rad Away on hand. Preventative practices are best, but not always an option. The best advice I received was, “Early intervention is key. It’s easier to treat light radiation exposure than fully progressed radiation poisoning.”

21. What’s your favorite wasteland critter? “I have a soft spot for deathclaws. My wife calls them “human meat grinders” and I 100% agree… but damn they look cool.”

22. What’s your least favorite wasteland critter? “Molerats for sure. They can swarm and surround you if you’re not careful. Not to mention they are a nightmare for crops.”

23. How do you feel about robots?

*Shrugs* “If they’re non-hostile, I have nothing against them. We have a settlement run entirely by robots. I happily attended the Zwicky wedding. Lovely couple by the way. Codsworth has been a family friend even BEFORE the war.”

24. How many caps do you have on you right now? “I’d prefer not to answer that, if it’s all the same to you.”

25. Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla? “Ooo, Nuka Cola has good variety of flavors.”

26. Do you do chems? “No. Nothing against those who do. “As long as you’re not hurting anyone.”

27. Do you ever think about the Pre-War world? “Sometimes. Certain dates and places bring back memories, but I try to remain as present as possible. That life is gone…”

28. What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently? [It’s noted that after being asked this question, Samantha looked over the interviewer’s shoulder into another room; where a woman was doing dishes and two children laughing while attempting to put together a mini robot model]

“I have none. No regrets.”

29. What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve? “Rebuilding the Minutemen is something I’m proud of, but it was a collective effort. I don’t think I can claim that as a personal achievement. As far as what do I hope to achieve? I’m not sure. I don’t measure life by what I have accomplished or what I will accomplish. I’m just a regular person doing my best.”

30. What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

“I want to be part of a safer Commonwealth. Everyone coming together not jut in crisis, but in celebration as well. With the Institute gone there is more of a chance for that to happen, but we have along way to go. It may not happen in our lifetime, but we can lay the groundwork for future generations.”

#piper #piperwright #samantha #samanthawright #fallout #fallout4 #fallout 4

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sawyersick · 4 years

Note

all the questions for that ask game!!! (or as many as you want lol)

holy fuck bee............................. ok get red E its a Lot

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say?

Idk what I would say but I probably wouldn’t be that freaked out... the last person I texted is a good friend/coworker and I trust him

2. What’s going on between you and the last person you kissed?

I uhhh can’t remember who the last person I kissed was because it was years ago but let’s assume it was my ex..... he was a toxic pos who tore me down because he had low self esteem so yeah I don’t really like him

3. If your boyfriend or girlfriend was into drugs, would you care?

I would be upset if it was anything more than weed or the ocassional drink or if it was a full blown addiction and I would be mad if they didn’t tell me on principle...

Also I would not be very comfortable if they did it around me because I’m a weenie despite hanging out in hardcore punk groups...... also I can’t stomach the smell of cigarettes im sorry

4. Is your last name longer than six letters?

nope!

5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober?

sober, I don’t drink

6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up?

like..... as a significant other? I guess. I’m pretty bad at telling my feelings to people and I’m kinda clingy when I like someone. idk if I’ve ever *explicitly* messed it up tho

7. What does your last received text say?

“sick” and then the sparkly heart emoji five times

8. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed?

lots and lots and lots.... unfortunately. we were together for a year and a half

9. Where was your last kiss at?

fuck bitch I don’t remember.............. school? my house? his house? the pool??? man the last five months of that relationship were affection-less

10. When is the last time you saw your sister?

I don’t have one!

11. What do you drink in the morning?

water and sometimes tea

12. Where did you sleep last night?

the car and then my bed when I got home

13. Do you think relationships are hard?

I mean everything takes effort... I don’t find it hard to do things for people in my relationships but I get frustrated when it isn’t reciprocated and I burn out

14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you?

nah

15. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, any problems?

yes....................... many..........................

16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy?

I TRIED to be a good emo and like the rain but tbh I get really reasonally depressive so I prefer the sun 100%

17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you?

nope!

18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants?

jeans!

19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now?

hopefully!! I met this real cute punk boy last night

20. Does anyone like you?

HA I doubt it......... I usually come off as the little sister type to most people

21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S?

nope!

22. Is the last person you kissed gay?

probably

I suspected that he had internalized homophobia but also he was weirdly transphobic to me so I dropped it and pretended to be a cis girl around him which is weird because I think he liked boys??????????????????

23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand?

YES this girl from high school who talked about tentacle porn to school admins for no reason and did lots of other weird shit

24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?

yes! I have a whale on my hip and I want to get tiny scissors on my arm soon

25. In the past week have you cried?

yes I watched queer eye and a disney movie lol

26. What breed was the last dog you saw?

I follow like 12 samoyeds on instagram but the last dog I saw irl was this ADORABLE black lab who was a service dog and he rested his head on his human’s lap when she sat down in the library and I wanted to cry

27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower?

I have a towel hanging right out side the shower so I grab it, then step out of the shower

28. Have you ever kissed a football player?

hm idk I think so? I definitely kissed a guy who played tennis but he forced it on me so I don’t count it

29. Do you think you’re old?

yes because I hate tiktok

30. Do you like text messaging?

I don’t mind it!! The service at my house sucks tho so I prefer cloud based texting like instagram or facebook messenger

31. What type of day are you having?

A good but slow one! I had a really good night last night so I’m just resting now

32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced?

I’d honestly rather get snake bites if I were to get a piercing but in general I’m afraid of facial piercings

33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather?

warm! then I can head down to the lake :)

34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you?

yes! he’s one of my best friends and I talk to him every day and he lives in scotland and I’d like to meet him one day

35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling?

relationship! Flings personally make me feel icky and I’m over that

36. Are you a simple or complicated person?

I’d like to think I’m complicated but I’m a simple man..................... you show me whale, I like

37. What song are you listening to?

any song by Liily, all day every day

38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it?

yes! I perpetually feel bad about everything!!!!!!39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you?

there was! but not anymore because she ghosted me for no reason40. What made you start liking the person you like now?

This person is so cute and kind and creative and nice and sweet and fashionable!!!! and fun to mosh with!!!!!41. When did you last receive a text message?

half an hour ago ish???42. What is wrong with you right now?

I am constantly depressed and there’s nothing I can do about it exceot keep myself insanely busy but that means there’s no breather for me and also I probably have adhd but can’t afford a therapist43. How well do you know the last female you texted?

FeMaLe dude just say chick

pretty well! I like her favourite band and we talk like once a week at the very least44. Does anyone disgust you?

yes my ex was very nasty and tore people down to his level and also this one person from high school who fucked over my friends 45. Would you date someone right now if they asked?

depends on who.... eye emoji............. but probably yes I have low standards46. Are you in a good mood right now?

yes!47. Who was the last person you talked to in person?

my parents? but other than that it was thanking Nick from the band Unpopular Opinion for the lovely tabling opportunity last night48. What color shirt are you wearing?

white T shirt with a cat pink sweater with a cat49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear?

yes one of my parents says nasty things when in a bad mood50. Anyone you’re giving up on?

yes my former best friend who ghosted me and this girl who keeps flaking on plans with me and also a boy who got mixed up in weird drama with me and his ex that I never wanted to be a part of51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for?

I’ve never really falen hard for anyone, just periods of obsession. I guess I’m waiting for that one sPeCiAl sOmEoNe

52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t?

yes, but I’ll settle for waiting53. Do you like rain?

a little of it!54. Do you care if your boyfriend/girlfriend drinks?

I’d rather they not be a alcholoic because I had a raging drunk coworker who scared the shit out of me once but I guess I’d be okay with the ocasional drink/drunk night as long as they’re safe55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them?

So many times... I keep my mouth shut because it would never work for one reason or another...... also I’m so SICK of having to make the move all the time I just want to be fawned over I’ve never had anyone do ANYTHING romantic for me 56. Do you like to cuddle?

.......................yes57. Are you shy?

not normally! I LOVE being social but in relationships yeah because I’m insecure58. Do you get along with girls?

yes? girls who don’t get along with girls are lame...... lift each other up don’t tear yaselves down59. Have you dated the person you texted last?

nope! But I’ll admit I thought about it haha60. What do you carry with you at all times?

chapstick, money, and pepper spray

ya boy don’t mess around61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you?

depends on the haunted levels, as long as the “ghost” would only watch/appear and not scream or whatever or try to make contact I guess that would be fine? but if It tries to disturb me I’m yeeting mysef the fuck outta here because ya boy needs uninterrupted beauty rest62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months?

yep! I dragged one out for a year and a half when I really should have ended things much sooner than that63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship?

nope! Been single for around two years now64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute?

YES HOLY SHIT65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week?

I fired some pieces in my pottery class! my mugs and bowls came out so well

and I met the cutest punk boy last night!!!!!! he’s so cute and very my type and I got to dance with him in the mosh pit!!!!!!!!!! tell me that’s not the cutest punk thing ever

66. How old are the last three people you kissed?

19, 18(17???), and 21

67. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself?

I’ve only gotten them done once! It was very enjoyable but I’m a cheapskate so I’d probably rather do them myself68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print?

leopard print I guess69. Do you have any stickers on your car?

one! A turtle from the Maui Ocean Center. I’d like to add a few more sea-related ones and maybe a totoro I bought at a con a few years back70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?

literally who the fuck even are these people71. Blackberry, Android, or iPhone?

android 4 lyfe72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut?

never? my DnD group would get round table or little caesars73. Do you like diet soda?

I guess? I like it the same as diet soda74. What color are the walls in your room?

one purple wall and the other three are pastel mint75. Are you 16 or older?

yeah baybee76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars?

nope 77. Do you have a job?

yep! I’m a windsurfing instructor 78. What are your initials?

ZSKMTS

but usually I go by SS79. Did you ever have braces?

nope! I’ve got near-perfect teeth :D80. Are you from the south?

nope!

81. What does your last status on facebook say?

I talked about meeting my favourite band again!82. Do you still talk to the first person you ever kissed?

no because he forced himself on me when we were young and I think he remembers and is ashamed and also doesn’t live near me anymore 83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad?

idk, I’m close but not in different ways with both of them84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?

I was really good at the tumbling unit in 6th grade85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters?

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood? I don’t go to the movies much 86. Do you smoke?

no the smell of cigarettes makes me want to vomit87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops?

I love heels but I LIVE in flip flops bc california88. Is your phone touch screen?

yes???? damn when was this ask game made89. Do you normally wear your hair straight or curly?

straight.......... I’m too lazy to curl it 90. Have you ever snuck out of your house?

nope! I’m a weenie 91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?

the ocean!!!!!!!! But I guess a pool bc I’m afraid of the flesh eating bacteria in freshwater lakes92. Have you ever made out in a car?

no but I HAVE made out on some random person’s lawn lmao93. …Had sex in a car?

no I’m a virgin 94. Are you single or in a relationship?

single pringle who loves to mingle 95. What were you doing last night at midnight?

selling my art and listening to cool bands and dancing with cute punk people!!!96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks?

the day after the fourth of July 97. Do you like the camera on your phone?

yes! I just got a new phone and the camera is way better than my old one

the low lighting setting is c r i s p 98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits?

I made out with this one friend of mine like twice and then I never did it again bc I felt icky 99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?

no I don’t drink100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?

NAH BRO YOU GOTTA UNFRIEND THE FUCK OUTTA THEM NO RAGRETS 101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare?

nope I’m a virgin102. Name your favorite Kesha song:

Liily? did you mean Liily???? my favourite Liily song is Wash, Toro, or The Weather103. Do you have any tan lines right now?

yeah one from the ring I wear every day and like a shorts tan from summer104. Would you ever wear cowboy boots with shorts?

hell yeah but ONLY if the cowboy boots are bright red or hot pink no exceptions

#long post #ask #bumbleberrybee

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