#mithraiic

     You know the fun thing about duplicates (i always love duplicates, and am always ALWAYS promoting duplicate love) is forming completely original content with every single one of them. It’s always amazing to see the different and amazing things that people can do. What made me think of this? My love for Jon Snow.

      Cersei has her mortal enemy, @watcherandshield , the fabulous and amazing Colleen with her stubborn but honorable Jon. The mun is such a sweet heart and is so tough but always manages to come back. If there is one thing I always love, it is perseverance and the willingness to come out of a fight stronger than ever.

       Cersei has her son, @killthebxy , and we have Fil. The ever conflicted but loving and cherished of everyone he loves and playful Jon. Fil is amazing and always willing to be there for those he loves just like his muse, and is always kind and always up to fun with everyone around him. Such a positive light of the fandom.

      Cersei has her Greek God brother, Hades, over with @mithraiic , the clever, and charismatic Jon, witty in every way, and willing to fight everyone and everything that resembles a white walker. And Chrissy is such a blast to talk too, kind, and equally clever. Such a blessing, and such a wonderful writer.

I’m just asking a genuine question.

         As a child, Sansa had always imagined how Dragonstone looked. Stories of the Targaryan kingdom had fascinated her since she was old enough to remember, not for the dragons but for their elegance, the majesty of the silver haired rulers, so unearthly in their beauty and legacy.

         Now as their ship approached the shallow waters off the coast of Dragonstone, Sansa could see just how magnificent it really was. Magnificent - but terrifying. The entire meeting with the dragon queen was most likely a trap, made at least feasible by the knowledge that Tyrion would be there. Which in turn was exactly why Sansa was there. Jon had wanted to leave her in Winterfell, a Stark to keep the North and, had Bran not joyously returned mere days later, she would have been forced to. Instead she stood on the deck eyeing the shoreline as Jon oversaw the preparation of the longboat. After a moment, she placed herself at his side. 

The amount of restraint she showed during those four to six minutes of hair tugging and tying was surprising. Rapunzel was always so painfully thankful for everything. Some would say that if you burnt her alive she would thank you for the lesson and hope the flames were enough to keep you warm. It was a sort of warmth of the soul that the cold couldn’t penetrate and made her such an oddity among her kind.

Not that there was anything wrong with it. It gave them something in common.

“Thank you,” she says. “Is it pretty? I bet it’s pretty. Where did you learn how to braid hair?”

sneeze in her hair

        Disturbances shown clear in fuse brow formed amidst chaotic reflections of woe. All forms bearing quintessence plunders toward tender ministrations of conflict and frenzy. Aghast in humor most foul while green orbs promise demise.

the meetings had gone less than ideal and the entire flight back to winterfell had been less than ideal. conversations were held about what could have gone better but it didn't seem like the rest of the people were too worried about what the first order could do to them. ned had heard it, he had seen it, and he had been threatened by it. and thus, he had gone to the rebels after the meeting the captain phasma. once ned had secretly declared their side, there was little else to worry about than making sure their planet wasn't next on the list of destroyed planets.

back in the snowy summer, ned was more than pleased to find himself among his people and family again. after the normal greetings, ned went out to find jon. it didn't take long before he found him, ned pausing for a moment before he cleared his throat. "there's something i want to talk to you about, jon."