#Dragon talks XXX

[backjustforberena]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I absolutely adore your takes on Rhaenys. Unironically, there are so many times where I am having A Big Thought on the subject and come on here and you have said the exact thing I do not have the words to say myself and it is wonderful.

Also, I just saw your reply to someone else who said something similarly, and I am glad to know that your current fixation on all things Eve and also Rhaenys as a character isn’t going anywhere. I always feel like I’m late to the party discovering things so I wind up missing all the good discourse and squeeing over actresses and characters, so knowing that at least for the foreseeable future you will also be out there in the world losing your shit over her is good for my soul.

Also also, I do not know if you are still taking the rose asks, but the excerpts of yours I have read from that so far are all so good. I am very (im)patiently waiting for whenever you see fit to finish the things they are a part of so I may enjoy them just as much in context as I have in snippet form!

Hello! I let this sit in my inbox for a few days just so I could keep looking at it and smiling broadly. What a lovely, lovely thing to say and to take the time to write.

I'm glad that you've enjoyed my meta, thoughts and opinions about Rhaenys. She's just a character that's got a very big hold on me at the moment (along with her husband and her relationships with others) and no one in my real life actually watches HOTD for me to talk to them about it, and not in this detail! So Tumblr is a great place to really indulge in all that sort of thing, and get genuine debate and engagement from others who may be feeling the same way. And it's a creative outlet, as much as anything else, with the fic and the gifs and all of that. I really love it.

You're not late with me! And the good thing about Tumblr is that the internet is permanent. If you are interested in meta and thoughts and all that stuff, then you can search my blog. A lot of tagged with "bad meta" because I like being ironic, or else with the character name. And, honestly, I'm always happy to re-hash. You could come into my inbox any time.

I've always got something percolating, fic-wise, and, for being so lovely and nice, here's a longer extract of something - it's an AU in which, in Episode 01, Viserys summons Rhaenys over Rhaenyra, and offers the crown to her. A lot of the time, I do "what-ifs" to explore the politics and the interpersonal relationships. This one has been a doozy to actually finish because, as you can read, Rhaenys is basically thinking Viserys is out of his mind - that it can't be done:

I like writing Viserys and Rhaenys - the tragedy of that relationship. I don't do it often enough because, unfortunately, there will always be barriers preventing true honesty between them, which curbs any progress between them and a lot of opportunity for storytelling that's true to them.

There's always pain and distance despite deep love. This delves into that a little bit but because Viserys needs Rhaenys to see his earnestness, and they are in private, and he needs her to accept his plan (giving her the crown), the walls come down a bit. So, for example, in this, after this extract, Viserys actually asks her why she never had more children. And she's actually honest about it.

It's fun to explore. Asking yourself questions.

[bibleofficial]

walked up to my cousin’s step son after the wedding to see if he was doing ok & i was like ‘what u up to :D’ & he said ‘i got a new pet !’ & we looked at the table to see a yellow jacket he caught under the cup, which he described as a bee …. APPALACHIA

[the-colourful-witch]

🖤🐍Mr and Mrs Malfoy 🐍🖤

Talk about a POWER COUPLE! What is it about twisted characters in books that make me enjoy drawing them? I despise all they've done in the HP books/films, but man, are they an attractive pair :) Sometimes you just can't help but love a villain (or antagonist in this case) :)

The two of them complement each other very well. And Draco is the well-rounded combination of the pair of them. He's like his father in a lot of respects, but a bit of a mama's boy too <3 A Mommy and a Daddy issue both! What a catch!

I liked drawing the adult versions of Narcissa and Lucius because the teen versions were already so great to do. With a little help from her husband's fortune, Narcissa grew into her love for fashion and perfected her look. She's also a bit of a femme fatale with the sharp edges in her style, making her appealing and unapproachable at the same time. Lucius just fully embraced the aristocratic vibe. He has everything tailored to fit him just right, accessories subtly, but perfectly (with a little help from Narcissa) and he's one of the only people I've seen who can pull off the long hair. It reminds me a bit of Daemon Targaryen from House of the Dragon... I did get inspired by his hair in the first season :)

Now, I decided to play a bit more with their colours. You may be shocked to see RED AND GOLD on them in the middle illustration. I wanted to, not for any significant reason other than that I thought it would look good on them :) Sue me. Anyway, I love this. And I love you. I hope you enjoy! Love xxx Fleur

[urhoneycombwitch]

the text post with "she let me hit cause I'm goofy" is SO FUCKING TRUE

Eddie with maybe a handful of experience that never really amounted to a serious relationship because all the girls in Hawkins seemed to just find something wrong with him when they got a peek beyond the surface. The ones that rolled their eyes when he talked about D&D, or wrinkles their nose at his trailer, or stayed straight faced at his jokes.

But then you come along and for some reason, you like the layers? You like that he's hyper and theatrical and strange and it turns you on?? He's excited, no doubt, and very grateful, but hella confused because why do you have lust in your eyes while he extensively explains the difference between a wyvern and a dragon? And when he's nearly knee deep in all the pussy you keep throwing his way, Eddie finally has to ask. It sends him rocketing when you're answer that you like him because he's weird, not in spite of it. The morning after, he walks around like a new man all proud because "my girl lets me hit cause I'm goofy"

posting a blurb of this soon anon will update here w/ link when it's out xxx

update: blurb

[shangrila11]

Songs of the dragons // Dragon! Dan Heng (HSR) x reader [AU]

Bold = Draconic language

Content warning // Brief implication of death

(Y/N) stepped outside, a grin on their face. Sunlight shone down on them and a cool breeze touched their cheeks -- the perfect weather for going out and tending to the crops. They grabbed a hoe and started weeding the field, pausing every once a while to wipe the beads of sweat trickling down their forehead.

Just then, (Y/N) heard something that sounded like singing. What was more, it was in a language that they had never heard of. They looked towards the source of the sound and saw a group of dragons high up in the sky. (Y/N) watched in awe as the sky gradually turned down and rain started pouring down. They closed their eyes, enjoying the beautiful, haunting melody and the rain on their skin. Their eyes snapped open before widening. That was perculiar. The words to the song were slowly but surely becoming less intelligible to them...

"...And that was how I first understood and learn your language. Apparently, when I was little, I came down with a fever. Fortunately, my parents happened to find a dragon scale which was said to have mystical properties according to us humans. They grounded it and used to make medicine," (Y/N) concludes. The dragon beside them hums thoughtfully.

"I see," he replies. He winces as (Y/N) applies some antiseptic on his leg. The human apologises, saying they are already being as gentle as they could.

"There's no need to apologise. You did warn me earlier, did you not?" the dragon assures them.

"Right," (Y/N) laugh sheepishly. After they have finished applying the antiseptic, they carefully wraps a bandage around the wound.

"There. All done," they declare with a smile. The dragon slowly lifts his injured leg. It feels a little better already. He thanks (Y/N) for treating his wound.

"You're welcome! Be careful not to get caught in fishing nets next time," they answer. They bow and introduce themself. The dragon dips his head.

"I'm Dan Heng. It's a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)."

xxx xxx

"Dan Heng?" (Y/N) gasps, staring at the male in front of them. He is gorgeous, with long, black hair and piercing turquoise eyes. He wears a white sleeveless shirt -- reminsicent of the colour of the dragon's scales -- with long, unattached sleeves that are accented with teal and gold, as well as black pants

"Yes, it's me. I figure I should adopt a human form so that it's easier to interact," the male nods. He frowns. "Is... something the matter with my appearance?"

"No, not at all!" (Y/N) hurriedly replies. "It's just that... you look really pretty and majestic, both as a dragon and as a human." They flush.

"O -- oh. Thank you," Dan Heng stammers, his expression mirroring (Y/N)'s. "I -- I'm flattered to hear that."

"A -- anyway, would you like to come with me to the village? I think you will like it there," (Y/N) offers, desperately trying to change the subject before things get awkward between them.

"Are you certain? Humans tend to... keep their distance around me and my kind. I don't think that this disguise will be able to conceal my true nature from them since I speak another tongue," the male frowns. In fact, (Y/N) is the first human who approach him without much nerves.

"Good point," (Y/N) agrees, frowning as well. Dragons, being able to perform various feats like summoning the rain, are revered by the people. Some people even feared dragons, not wanting to face their wrath. "That's even more reason to come with me. If people see you spending time with me, they will know that you are approachable. So what say you?" They give Dan Heng an encouraging smile.

"... Alright. I'll give it a try," he relents. A small smile makes its way across his face seeing (Y/N)'s smile widen and their eyes twinkle. Eagerly, (Y/N) takes Dan Heng's hand and leads him to their village.

As anticipated, the people in the village dare not to approach Dan Heng upon hearing him talk in his kind's language and because of his aura. (Y/N) reassures him that it will take a while for the people to get used to his presence and that in the meantime, he just has to be himself. Dan Heng decides to take their word for it, trusting them. For now, he turns his focus on simply enjoying the sights and company. It is interesting to observe how humans lead their lives this close. (Y/N) is also pleasant company, explaining to him their customs and sharing some interesting tidbits and their home life.

After the tour around the village, (Y/N) invites Dan Heng to visit their home. Dan Heng is a little hesistant at first but the human assures him that it will be fine. Their parents have been wanting to meet him, after all. And so the male caves in. Together, the two of them heads to (Y/N)'s home.

"Mom! Dad! I'm home!" (Y/N) announces cheerfully as they enter their home, with Dan Heng awkwardly trailing behind them. Their parents warmly greet them before turning their attention to the male.

"And who is this young man?" their mother asks, smiling. (Y/N) introduces Dan Heng and their parents to each other.

"Ah, so you're the famous Dan Heng that my child has been talking about non-stop," Mr. (L/N) grins. "It's great to finally meet you." (Y/N) quickly translates what their father has said to Dan Heng.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. and Mrs. (L/N)," Dan Heng bows. Once again, (Y/N) translates what Dan Heng has said.

"Would you like to join us for dinner?" Mrs. (L/N) smiles.

"Yes, please do join us for dinner! My mum makes the best (favourite dish)," (Y/N) grins.

"... Very well. Thank you for the invitation," Dan Heng nods. Beaming brightly, (Y/N) guides Dan Heng to sit beside them while their parents sit across the two of them. The meal is delectable. Besides, conversing with (Y/N)'s family (with (Y/N) acting as their translator) fills Dan Heng with a sense of warmth so similar yet so different from that he feels with his family. While his parents mean well, they can be a little strict with him due to his... position.

Perhaps dragons and humans are not that different after all...

xxx xxx

(Y/N) places the di zi* to their lips before blowing into it. Crisp, beautiful notes emit from the dizi, stringing together to form a tune. Dan Heng is by their side, appreciating the melody. He quietly admires the concentrated look on his companion's face, as well as the graceful way their fingers glide across the finger-holes of the instrument.

"What do you think?" (Y/N) asks after they are done.

"It's... lovely," the dragon turned human compliments them.

"Why, thank you. Glad to know that my years of practice aren't in vain," (Y/N) beams, a faint blush blossoming on their cheeks. "Speaking of music, you dragons sing, don't you? However, I haven't heard you sing before." They look at Dan Heng, silently asking if they can hear him sing.

"Er... well..." Dan Heng stammers, averting his gaze away from them. A look of understanding crosses (Y/N)'s face. They gently pat his shoulder.

"It's alright. Some other time. Only if you want to, of course," they smile affectionately. Dan Heng's heart flutters. How can one be as warm and radiant as the sun?

"Thank you," he replies. He pauses for a moment before continuing, "I may not be comfortable letting you hear me sing but we can go flying. That is, if you would like to."

"I would love to," (Y/N) beams, their eyes sparkling. Dan Heng returns their smile with a small one of his own.

"Alright then," he nods. He closes his eyes in concentration. A stream of water materialises, surrounding him. When it clears, he stands before (Y/N) in his natural form. He bends down, asking them to get on him. With a grin, the human climbs on him. After making sure that his companion is securely mounted on him, Dan Heng soars into the air. (Y/N) lets out a whoop of delight as they feel the wind on their face. They wrap their arms around the dragon, resting their chin on him. They look around. Everything looks so small from up there, including their village which appears as specks.

"Wow. What a view," they breathe.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Dan Heng remarks, sounding quite pleased.

"I am," they grin. "We should do this more often." Dan Heng nods, humming in agreement. (Y/N)'s smile soften.

"Thank you for this, Dan Heng," they whisper.

"My pleasure. It's the least I can do for being unable to agree to your request," the dragon replies softly. The two of them then go silent, enjoying the flight and each other's company.

xxx xxx

Dan Heng's eyes scans through the texts, his eyebrows creased into a focused frown. Words in the language of the dragons are inscribed on the scroll, describing the history of the dragons.

"For centuries, dragons have served as guardians of rivers, protecting the creatures living in and near them. The High Elder play an especially key role in leading the dragons, lending their aid to dragons in need and making big decisions on behalf of the dragons..."

"I see that you are taking your studies seriously," a deep, stern voice remarks, interuptting Dan Heng's reading. He looks up from his scroll to meet the gaze of another man. He looks similar to Dan Heng, except older.

"Father," the younger male bows. "Yes. I wouldn't neglect it or my training."

"Very good," Dan Feng nods. "As the next in line to be the High Elder, I expect a lot from you."

"I promise to not let you down," Dan Heng answers. His father makes a sound of approval before his expression turns serious.

"On another note, what is this I hear about you mingling with a human?"

Dan Heng flinches. However, he quickly recomposes himself. He tells his father about his human companion and how they come to know each other.

"I appreciate them helping them helping you when you accidentally got your claw stuck in a fishing net and they seem like a decent human being," Dan Feng answers calmly. "With that said, you know why I disapprove getting close to humans." Dan Heng nods solemnly, an image of him standing by (Y/N)'s gravestone as he grieve over them flashing through his mind. A pang of sorrow hits him but Dan Heng decides to not think about it further. (Y/N) is still with him. And that's all that matters. He looks at his father firmly.

"Father," Dan Heng begins. "By distancing ourselves from humans, we are denying ourselves opportunities to forge new ties, to learn more about each other. After spending time with (Y/N), I realise that dragons and humans are not so dissimilar. We share the same joys and sorrows that life brings, have hopes and dreams and can carry out both good and bad deeds. (Y/N) has broadened my horizons and I... have grown fond of them. So please allow me to stay by their side for as long as they will let me." The younger dragon bows. Dan Feng goes silent for a moment before nodding.

"Very well. I shall respect your choice."

"Thank you, father," Dan Heng dips his head. His father gently patted his shoulder.

"Dan Heng! Dan Heng!" a familiar voice calls just then. The voice then mumbles, "That's how it's pronounced in their language, right? I hope so."

"Mr. (L/N)?" Dan Heng's eyes widens. He sounds anxious. The dragon feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Could something have happened?

"Who could that be?" his father asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

"It's (Y/N)'s father," Dan Heng explains. "I ought to go. It seems urgent."

"Of course. If you require any assistance, do not hesitate to let me know," Dan Feng replies. Sending his father a grateful look, Dan Heng teleports to where (Y/N)'s father is.

"Mr. (L/N). Whatever's the matter?" Dan Heng asks as soon as he appears before (Y/N)'s father. He tries to keep his tone even though his heart is racing. Mr. (L/N) jumps in surprise but quickly relaxes when he sees that it is one he is looking for.

"Dan Heng! Thank goodness you're here," he exclaims, relief in his voice. "(Y/N) they... Oh, sorry. You probably don't understand what I'm saying, do you? Let me repeat what I said in your language." Before he can do so, Dan Heng gently cuts him off.

"It's fine. (Y/N) taught me your language and I did some study on my own as well. So if it's easier for you, please speak in your tongue."

"Oh, that makes things simpler," Mr. (L/N) answers. "Anyway, as I was saying, something happened to (Y/N). They suddenly fell and began writhing in pain. They felt hot to the touch too. My wife and I tried asking doctors for help but they couldn't do anything. We then thought of you and figured you may be able to help."

"I see," Dan Heng, frowning. "We must hurry then if it's as serious as you've said. Please stay close to me. I shall teleport us to your house." Nodding, the other man does as told. Dan Heng closes his eyes. In the blink of an eye, they disappear.

The two of them appears before a frantic Mrs. (L/N) and a barely conscious (Y/N). Mrs. (L/N)'s expression quickly becomes delighted, even relieved to see the two males. Dan Heng's heart sinks seeing the state that (Y/N) is in. He kneels down next to them.

"D-dan Heng?" (Y/N) whimpers

"Yes, it's me. I'm here," said male whispers, squeezing their hand gently. (Y/N)'s expression relaxes a little despite the pain.

"Please help (Y/N), Dan Heng," Mrs. (L/N) pleads

"Not to worry. I'll do everything in my power to cure them," Dan Heng promises. Shutting his eyes, he holds (Y/N)'s wrist, trying to pinpoint the source of the ailment.

"What's the matter with them?" Mrs. (L/N) asks worriedly.

"(Y/N) ate a dragon scale when they were younger, did they not?" Dan Heng inquires. Their parents nod.

"The dragon's qi** from the scale is incompatible with their own qi and hence their body's system is thrown into a disarray as the two qis fight to balance each other out," the dragon explains. "If something is not done, I'm afraid their body system may collapse or even worse..." He stops himself. No. (Y/N) will be fine. He has made a promise to their parents and he intends to keep it.

"But (Y/N) has always been fine so why is this happening now?" (Y/N)'s father asks.

"Since they only ate one scale, the effects are gradual," Dan Heng replies. He frowns. "I apologise. I should have realised it much sooner when they mentioned that they ate a dragon scale."

"What's done is done. What is more important is saving (Y/N)," (Y/N)'s father pats Dan Heng's shoulder. The dark-haired male goes quiet for a moment before nodding.

"You're right," he agrees. He looks at (Y/N)'s parents in turn. "I need some space to treat (Y/N). Is it alright if I bring them somewhere else?"

"Of course. Just please return with them in a better state," Mrs. (L/N) answers. Thanking them, Dan Heng teleports (Y/N) and himself to a secluded, open area near the river he resides. Grasping the human's hand, he takes a deep breath before beginning to sing. His voice is quiet yet powerful as he conveys his feelings through the song. He grimaces, feeling a throbbing pain in his body but he pushes on.

"Dan Heng?" (Y/N) murmurs, feeling the pain subsiding. Their eyes widen when they see the dragon turned human in pain. "Dan Heng! Whatever you're doing, please stop!" Dan Heng shakes his head and squeezes their hand, quietly assuring them that it is alright. After the song ends, the black-haired male lets go of (Y/N)'s hand and drops to the ground, morphing into his true form as he does so.

"Dan Heng! Are you alright?" (Y/N) asks worriedly, inspecting him.

"Yes, I'm alright," Dan Heng assures them, albeit weakly. "Just exhausted from transferring half of my qi to you."

"You silly dragon," the human mumbles, tears pricking the corner of their eyes. They put their forehead against the dragon's. "That was risky. You could've --" They hold their tongue, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"I apologise for worrying you. This is the only way to stabilise the two qis in you," Dan Heng replies. "What about you? How are you feeling?"

"I feel great so far," (Y/N) smiles, backing away a little while wiping their tears.

"That's good," Dan Heng heaves a sigh of relief. "Nevertheless, we should monitor your condition for a few days."

"Ok," they nods. They pause for a moment before continuing, "Thank you, Dan Heng. For saving my life and for that lovely song."

"My pleasure," Dan Heng answers, averting his gaze from them. "As long as you're alright, nothing else matters."

"Except you matter," (Y/N) chides him gently, poking his snout. "So please don't endanger yourself for my sake again."

"I've already apologised, have I not? There's no need to repeat yourself."

"Just wanted to emphasise my point."

"... Fair enough."

The two of them sit side by side, with (Y/N) leaning on Dan Heng's body. They turn to look at their companion. His eyes are shut and he has a peacful look on his face. (Y/N) smiles fondly, glad that the both of them come out of the predicament unharmed.

*Di zi = Chinese flute

**Qi = Vital energy

(Image does not belong to me. Credit goes to owner)

(Inspired by the #8 Imaginative idea found on the writer's respository blog)

[thegreengnome]

Helaena targaryen x male uncle targaryen reader. Instead of marrying Aegon she marries the reader and they have children jaehaerys, jaehaera and maelor (let's imagine they are not from Aegon)

Fandom – House of the Dragon

Word Count -1080

Pairing – Helaena Targaryen X Taelor Targaryen (OC)

Warnings – N/A

Taelor Targaryen is the surprise third child of Prince Baelon. After the death of his first and only true wife, Baelon fell into a depression – his true love was dead – how was he meant to continue without her? He needed comfort and who better to comfort the distraught prince than a Lannister. A cunning and seductive Lannister, who now had a seed planted in her belly.

Honor demanded the two wed much to the satisfaction of the Lannister house. Not eight moons later a son was born to the pair. The smug lady Lannister had succumbed to the birthing bed like so many before her, this left a newborn baby in the arms of an emotionless prince.

The most humane thing the gods had ever done for the young prince was to kill his father. While a great parent and role model to his older sons, to Taelor he was cruel and often expressed disgust at the child that had not come from Alyssa. Perhaps he felt guilt over fathering him.

This passing left the young boy in the care of his eldest brother and his family. Raised alongside his much younger niece and nephews.

Due to being several years older then said nephews and niece Taelor adopted a leadership role. He was their protector and he took this job very seriously.

Which is why she was finding it difficult to remain still as the maester stitched up the open wound that once held Aemonds vibrant purple eye. The grip on the back of Taelor’s tunic kept him stable and grounded. Reaching back, Taelor made sure that Helaena was hidden from the view of the crowd around them.

They were Targaryen’s- the greatest power in all of Westeros – a family. So why were they constantly fighting.

His half-brothers only cared for Rhaenyra, all the love they possessed in there boy was given to one instead of spread out too many. Viserys younger children left behind in the wake of their much-loved older sister. Taelor knew from experience how hurtful parental neglect was, so he vowed to be everything his brothers were not. He would show his younger family members the loved that they deserved.

Xxx

When the inevitable search for a spouse for Taelor began, he sat through countless small council meetings his brother and eldest niece throwing potential brides at him.

He was a Targaryen; he would not settle for someone beneath him. So, he went to the queen.

The solar was quiet as both waited for the other to talk. The two had a complicated relationship – still a child herself Alicent was given the task of raising not only her own children but Taelor as well.

“We both know your father wants Aegon on the phone”

Alicent remained calm, sipping her warming tea, her ringed fingers clutching the delicate porcelain.

“I am also aware of your plans to marry him to Helaena” the tea made its way down. The queen’s sole attention on her charge.

“I think it is a foolish decision. To marry two possible heirs to the throne to one another instead of gaining outside alliances”

Humming Alicent seems amused. Of course, she had no desire to wed her children together but her father always got what he wanted. “And who do you suggest?”

“Me” not many things can surprise the queen but it had seemed her ward had achieved this great feat.

“You?” Taelor had always been good to her children and as much as it pained the queen to admit her eldest son was not the ideal candidate to marry her sweet and dream like daughter.

“Why? What would you gain?” everyone had their own plan to win the game- what was Taelor’s?

“A loving wife. No one knows Hel like I do. Aegon would not treat her with the respect she deserves. We both know this to be true”

“Marrying us would guarantee the loyalty of the Lannister’s who have historically been fickle”

Mulling the offer over Alicent asks the question that her father would be desperate to know “and what of your stance to the throne?”

“The throne is of no consequence to me. Whoever sists the throne, it is all the same. I will support Helaena in everything that she does and if that includes helping her brother then so be it”

Xxx

They wed two moons after Helaena turns sixteen, enough time for the couple to prepare for the union. The wedding itself was a small affair, much to the chagrin of the Queen. Knowing how uncomfortable his lady could get around crowds, he insisted on a small ceremony. An idea which gifted him the reward of a shy smile from his soon to be wife.

Helaena looked radiant as she walked towards Taelor to be cloaked. Her dress a hightower green, with white glittering gems encrusted through the bodice. Her hair braided intricately with a silver butterfly pin bringing the look together. The maiden’s cloak was a work of art, well in Taelor’s humble opinion. It perfectly showed who Helaena was. Dreamfyre imagery throughout with a scattering of spiders for good measure. The cloak made as her wedded one held much the same art as the maiden one but with the added image of Taelor’s dragon curled around dreamfyre.

Xxx

Not even three moons later the couple were blessed with good news. A babe was in the princess’s stomach.

That one babe turned out to be two and Prince Jaehaerys and Princesses Jaehaera was born. Throughout the labour Taelor remained at Helaena side. Ignoring the disapproving looks from the maester and the Queen. He swept sweety hair from her face and whispered words of love and encouragement into her ears. Because that was what their relationship was now- love

The babes were only hours old yet they already had their parents wrapped around their tiny fingers.

Xxx

The twins grew fast – too fast for there fathers liking. They brought joy to everyone in the keep, even their uncle Aemond was seen to crack a smile in their presence.

And soon the twins were joined by a younger brother Maelor. The spitting image of his mother, with wide eyes and that curious expression.

The family of five was happy and content. The married couple were often found in the company of one another with their kids following like small ducklings.

Despite this happiness, Taelor was always ready. He knew that when his eldest brother finally passes the dance would begin.

[gyattoru]

the apparition - hogwarts legacy fanfic (s.s)

title inspired on the apparition by sleep token

• chapter one - the dire journey

summary: After arduous magic lessons during the summer, it’s finally time for Fig to escort the twins to Hogwarts for the new beginning of term in the school, but a sudden twist of events turn the journey for the worst.

cw: 5,5k words, MENTIONS OF DEATH, hogwarts legacy fanfiction, female MC, sebastian sallow x female!MC, poppy sweeting x male!MC, muggle raised MCs, eventual pining & romance, eventual fluff & angst, minimal lore alterations, dialogue alterations, added events, sebastian sallow x seer!MC, will definitely add more as the chapters go on.

a/n: thank you all for the support on the prologue!! now the fun is really getting started 😉 enjoy!

- xxx lola

prologue - one - two

Something was different this time.

It was the roar of an animal, but it was loud, louder than my usual dream, reverberating in my brain. I see a red glow of magic but can’t figure out where it came from.

I know something is wrong, in my gut there is a feeling I can’t figure out, but I’m certain of one thing - this is not a mere dream.

A strong jaw with big, terrifying sets of teeth closes on me.

Aiden’s eyes snapped towards me as I awake with a start, the usual now. I must’ve fallen asleep at some point during the carriage ride, the steady flying of the vehicle rocking me into a light slumber.

I was glad she didn’t accidentally lay my head on our sudden acquaintance’s shoulder, George Osric. The high-ranking Ministry of Magic official surprised us, asking to accompany us on the journey with “urgent matters” to discuss with Fig.

He sat beside me, opposite my brother and the professor, they talked about the newest journal rumour - sources mentioned a goblin, Ranrok, posing as a looming threat to the wizarding world.

“It was your wife, Eleazar, who alerted me to his activities months ago.” George said softly as Fig’s brows wound tight together.

“Miriam? How?” The professor questions.

“She wrote to me about Ranrok before she died - wondering what the Ministry knew of the extent of his activities” George sighed “Before I could respond. I received this. It was the last thing she sent me.”

The official grabbed a cylinder-shaped container from his bag. As Aiden looked out the window, I studied the mysterious object residing in George’s hands. It had a stonish-esque pattern on its exterior and the intricate pattern carved into its front resembled an intricate swirling flame.

“It came to me via her owl.” He continued “But with no correspondence, I can only assume-“

“-That she had to get rid of it quickly to keep it safe.” Fig cut him off, grabbing the artefact to look closely at it.

“Presumably from Ranrok.” George commented “I cannot open it. Whatever magic protects this is powerful indeed.”

“It looks like goblin metal, George.” Eleazar inspected “That symbol-“

“What’s that glow?” I interrupted, piquing my brother’s interest, who also stopped to take a look at the artefact. 

“I don’t see a glow.” Fig said, confused.

“Nor do I.” George agreed.

The professor then passed the cylinder onto my hands, I noted it wasn’t as heavy as I thought it would be and the metal felt cold and sturdy.

“I see the glow too.” Aiden commented, “I can hear a sound coming from it.”

Suddenly, a click was heard and the small frontal opening of the artefact was unlatched, revealing an intricate key posing of the same design which was carved onto the cylinder.

“Merlin’s beard! How did you do that?” George asked surprised.

I reach for the key inside the container, just to be stopped by the professor’s word of caution.

“Wait! We do not know what-“

A roar of an animal.

Everything happened quickly, too quickly. Aiden’s head snapped to the side as he saw something approaching from the corner of his eye.

“Leesie, look out!” He pulled me towards him without even thinking twice, just fast enough to avoid me being taken along with George as a dragon gnawed on our half of the carriage, breaking it off and dragging the man away. 

One of her my dangled from the new sudden opening made into the carriage as brother held onto me as tight as he could, preventing me from falling like the artefact that fell from my hands towards the clouds that painted the morning sky. We watch with horror as the dragon held the other half of the vehicle in his mouth, suddenly chomping down on it, crumbling all its remains and, consequently, George.

I turn my head over to the front of the carriage and see the coachman urging the now visible thestrals forward as he tries to get us away from the angry winged beast. Aiden saw the dragon open its mouth and a fiery glow burned in the back of its throat as he urged for us.

“Jump!” Fig yelled over the hiss of the wind as he pulled both of us forward, jumping off the carriage as the dragon spit fire towards it.

Falling.

We were falling at rapid speed as Fig swam across the air, trying to reach for the mysterious key which fell out of the cylinder container and me and Aiden hold tight onto each other, the icy wind feeling like blades cutting our faces.

“Give me your hand!” Fig warned Aiden, who tightened his hold on me with one arm and held onto the professor with the other. “Accio!” The key flew towards Eleazar’s hand.

Nausea.

I hit the solid ground with a thud, pain shooting from my side. My brother quickly got up, anxiously scanning their surroundings, it seemed as if we were in some sort of cave.

“Are you both alright?” Fig asked worriedly as he got up as well “You’re hurt Miss Villin.”

“Perhaps a bit.” I wince as brother's worried gaze found mine once again. “I must’ve hurt my leg in the fall.”

“Take this. It's a Wiggenweld potion.” The professor said as he uncorks and hands me a vial with a green liquid in it. “That stuff’ll right you in a second.”

Unfortunately, I sniff the potion before drinking it, the smell reeking of mucus mixed with a berry-ish scent, which only worsened the churning in my stomach from the sudden Apparating trip. Without thinking too much, I downthe contents of the vial in one big gulp, fortunately feeling immediate pain relief.

“What happened?” Aiden asks as he helps me get up from the floor, keeping close by in case I topple and fall over.

“Poor George- I can’t believe he-“ Fig sighs, one of his hands brush through his dishevelled ash hair. “What the hell got into that damned thing?! Attacking a carriage mid-air? A typical dragon would never!”

“Professor?” Aiden questioned “Sir- Where are we?”

“I’m not sure, but that key Ellise discovered was clearly a Portkey.”

“A Portkey?” I ask, confused.

“An item enchanted to bring anyone who touches it to a specific place.” The professor explains.

“I’m feeling better, sir- If you’d like us to look around a bit.” I say, the pain in my leg had immensely subdued and I felt as if I could certainly walk normally now. 

“I would, but stay close, both of you.” He urged us forward, towards the opening of the cave “We’ve no idea who created this Portkey- or why.”

Aiden kept close beside me as I follow Fig out of the mysterious cave, which led to a bright open area, it seemed the hole was on the side of an island and miles of sea were all that could be seen besides- 

Abandoned ruins. Just like the ones in my dream. I can’t help but question what in the world was going on, why did I dream about these things countless times before?

“How far did that Portkey take us, professor?” I question, shielding my eyes from the rapid wind that blew my hair.

“Farther from London than the carriage travelled.” He asserted “We’re somewhere in the Scottish Highlands.”

“Do you think we were supposed to be sent to those ruins up ahead?” Aiden points, catching Fig’s attention.

“I do.” Fig asserts “This has not been the day any of us expected. But Miriam sent that Portkey to George for a reason, and I believe they died in pursuit of what it was meant to lead to.” He paused, both of us listening intently to his words.

“If you both are sure you’re alright and wouldn’t mind indulging me- I’d like to have a look around.”

Aiden eyed me carefully, he figured it’d be best for me to choose since I was the one hurt in the first place. I meet his eye with understanding and give him a small nod.

“Absolutely, sir.” 

“Good!” He didn’t hide his excitement “Let’s see if we can find a path- however faded it may be.”

Along the mountain's edge, I minded my step not to trip in the rigged path. The wind bled through my coat, making me shiver slightly.

“Where do you suppose your wife got the Portkey?” Aiden asks, both of them walked just ahead of me, engaged in conversation.

We soon found out Miriam spent years looking for signs of another form of magic, a rather ancient one which was long forgotten since its prime. This magic could only be wielded by a rare few people, who seemed to have been lost to time. Eleazar presumed his wife’s research led her to the Portkey, which certainly played a big part in it.

The path flowed downwards and upwards, leading us to do some climbing and jumping, which was something none of us imagined would be required today.

We reached a dead end, a wall which looked as if made of ice blocking them from pushing forward. The professor saw it as a learning opportunity- as he saw most things -and told them to use the, in my opinion, overly practised, basic wand cast to break the wall. That task was no hard feat for the us, whom quickly brought down the wall and kept going forward once again.

“We’re close now.” Fig encouraged “It’s just ahead.”

As we reached a fully open area, the wind seemed stronger than before, me and brother having to steady ourselves to not be blown away. The bridge that led to the ruins seemed to be broken, but it was fixed with a quick ‘Reparo’ from Fig himself. Finally, we reached the ruins, each of us going off in one direction to find clues about the creator of the Portkey quickly.

“Lessie! Professor Fig!” Aiden calls from the back of the ruins

As we arrive, I see a weirdly transparent wall, which seemed to have a room behind it, the same glow from the cylinder container emanating from it. We got closer to it.

“An enchanted wall?” Ellise questioned, “But what’s that room behind it?”

“Room? What room?” Fig asks, confused.

We all exchange skeptical looks before reaching out to the wall, as we came in contact with it our surroundings seemed to change, we were now inside the mysterious room.

“What in Merlin’s name?!” Fig exclaimed.

“Where are we?” Aiden asks.

To say I was tired of being suddenly teleported was an understatement, this was enough teletransportation for my whole year already. We seemed to be in some sort of lobby, a snoring figure lying down at some sort of reception desk. 

“Hello?” I ask as I carefully approach the desk. The figure doesn’t bulge, Fig clears his throat in an attempt to wake it.

The figure awoke with a startled yell, now we could make out that it was a goblin, given his pointy ears and black sclera eyes, his nose was big and round and his nails were as long as they could be grown out. He blinked, confused, and suddenly his eyes popped out at the sight of the people in front of his desk.

“It can’t be.” He exclaimed, we just looked at him with arched eyebrows “Ah, just a moment.”

The goblin turned around as he mumbled to himself, getting down from the place he sat in to go around the tall desk.

“Welcome to Gringotts Wizarding Bank.” He said with a bow “Vault number twelve, I presume?”

I look around the fancy lobby once more, Gringotts? Why would we be in a bank?

“Precisely.” Fig disguised his confusion quickly.

“The key?” The goblin said as he presented his hand, waiting for the item to be given to him. The professor just looked at him, confused once more.

“Your wife’s Portkey.” Aiden whispers as he nudges the man.

“Yes, of course” Fig took the key out of his pocket, placing it in the goblin’s big hand.

“This way then.”

We follow the goblin towards what looks like a train platform that had wide rails in front of it, the creature whistled a tune and a cart came quickly, stopping with a half right in front of us.

“After you.” The goblin signalled for us to sit down.

Aiden said he would’ve rathered Apparating a million times before having to ride this hellish cart again. As he focused on the path ahead to not throw up his breakfast, I admired the length of the tunnels of the bank, the cart bringing us lower and lower into the ground as the minutes passed, it tossed and turned and I noticed brother was more pale than usual, the water from the waterfall that cleanses enchantments only making his sickness worsen as his clothes were clinging onto him.

The goblin explained how the vault was commissioned shortly after Gringotts was founded, so it resided in the lowest part of the bank, a long ride ahead of them.

After quite some time, the cart stopped to a halt after a goblin security guard on a platform signalled for them to break.

“Vault number?” His voice was deep and dry, I could tell he wasn’t as nice as the goblin that was guiding them.

“Vault twelve!” The nice goblin answered “Momentous day!”

The guard goblin groaned.

“On your way.”

As he signalled the path ahead with his long hand, I noticed he had a band on his arm which had the same red glow of the collar the dragon that attacked us wore, I eyed their professor apprehensively as the cart took off again, to Aiden’s displeasure. I quietly nudge Fig, who questioned me with a soft hum and quietly told him about the glow of the band.

“Like the glow you saw on the Portkey container?” He asked

“No, darker. I saw that glow on the dragon’s collar.” I whisper, worried.

“What was that?” The nice goblin interrupted us, Fig asks about the guard.

The goblin told them that the grumpy guard watched over the eldest section of the bank, but rarely anyone went there anymore. Me and Aiden exchanged an alarmed gaze over the cart.

With a few more tosses and turns, the cart came to a final stop, and Aiden already took it as a prize that he managed to keep the contents of his stomach on the inside. We got up from our seats and followed the goblin towards one single door on the furthest wall in front of the rails.

The goblin grabbed the key from his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole of the heavy metal door, he turned it and the heavy metal locks groaned and they unlocked themselves. The goblin stood aside to let them get through the now-opened passage, and we thanked him as they stepped into a short candle-lit stone hallway.

“What do you suppose we should be looking for?” I ask as I look around our new surroundings.

“I’m not sure.” Fig says as he turns towards the goblin who was now standing in the doorway “Sir, I wonder if you might-”

“The instructions for vault twelve indicate that I am to grant access to the holder of the key - and then close the door.” He says with a smile, signalling with his hand and, in a swift motion, locking us in the room. “Best of luck!”

“Great.” Aiden complains “Professor?”

Fig didn’t hide his surprise, we certainly weren’t expecting to be locked in an unknown vault for God knows how long.

“Revelio might help us here.” The professor rubs his chin “A revealing charm, no time like the present, ready your wands.”

We both raise our second-hand wands and copy Fig as he shows us the movement of the spell. As we cast revelio, a door appears on the other end of the small hallway, it had the same blue glow as the container of the Portkey and we got closer to inspect it.

As the we touched the door, the corridor around us vanished and we found themselves in a vast, dark room.

White flashes of light

That’s all me and Aiden saw for the past 30 minutes, which felt more like hours of my life. We had to battle knights, a safety matter, the boy presumed, and amidst the chaos we lost their professor, having to battle on our own.

Short of breath, we crossed a portal that led to a room full of grandeur with a basin in the middle of it. If the day hadn't already been weird enough, there was a small vial floating above said basin, we approached it and I reached for the weird container and took it. The door at the far end of the room opened and luckily Fig was just behind it, looking confused.

“There you are!” Fig looks around the room “How did you-? What is this place?”

“I don’t know.” I sigh as we approach him “But we found this floating above that basin.” I show him the vial.

Professor Fig takes a closer look at the said basin curiously “That is no mere ‘basin’. That is a Pensieve - for viewing memories.”

I hand the vial to him and he opens it “I wonder-“ He tips the container over the basin, a glowing liquid falling from it swiftly and making the water below it swirl with black.

“Follow my lead.” He puts the upper half of his face in the murky water.

I look over at brother, confused, he just shrugs “I guess we have no choice.” He chuckles and dips his head in as well. I take a deep breath and follow.

As the cold water swirls around my vision, I see the room we are in, but it was like watching it from behind a foggy glass. A man resided in the middle, he looked a little past Fig’s age and swished his wand around as he finished building the room, the same blue glow me and my brother saw earlier enveloped the pillars he conjured. I notice another wizard is on the other end of the room, seemingly helping with the room’s architecture, although he is quite shorter and fuller than the other man. 

They approach each other close to the Pensieve “All is in place.” The shorter one says.

“The Portkey is well hidden?” The tall one questions.

“Perhaps too well, I wonder if the path we created-“

“May be impossible to follow?” The tall wizard completes his mate's sentence ”It will only be impossible for one who cannot see traces of ancient magic - as I can.”

“Your ability to see what others cannot will not be enough, Percival.” Percival, that was the tall wizard’s name, I make sure to keep it in mind as the memory unfolds. “We are entrusting the one who embarks on this path with powerful secrets - with knowledge others will do anything to obtain.” 

“Yes, and if we are correct, Charles, the person who completes the trials will have proven themselves worthy of the knowledge and the responsibility that accompanies it.” Percival says, final. 

“We’ve done all we can.” Charles agrees.

They both gazed at the far wall for a second. Then, Percival places the tip of his wand to his temple as he pulls out the string of glowing magic that was poured onto the Pensieve.

The memory ends and we pull out our heads from the water of the basin. “That’s what you’re seeing?” Fig questions “The glow that surrounded them?” 

“Yes Sir.”  Aiden answer as he rubs water from his face “That blue glow.”

“Can we see magic?” I ask, puzzled.

“Traces of ancient magic, to be precise. The magic that Miriam had always believed existed but could never-“ The professor trails off “Miriam, and perhaps George, died in pursuit of knowledge that has been dormant for centuries - And you both, it seems, are the key to understanding why. We wou-“

We hear the voice of the nice goblin banker coming from the other side of the door, accompanied by heavy metal footsteps “It all looks rather different than it did a moment ago.” He chuckles awkwardly. 

“Someone’s coming.” Fig warns, turning towards the door.

“Who were they?” A deep voice asks.

“I don’t know - but sir, you shouldn’t be in here.” The nice goblin insists.

The door opens, a red glow coming from the other side. Ranrok. He walked in front, a rookie and the grumpy guard beside him, the nice goblin followed frantically after them “I was right.” Ranrok said in a menacing tone.

“Ranrok.” Fig spat at him, anger evident in his voice.

“Seems my reputation precedes me. I was beginning to think no one was ever going to visit Rackham’s vault.”

“And why are you here?” The professor pulls out his wand, and we follow, pointing them at the goblin.

“No need for that.” He puts out his hand urging us to stop “Just give me whatever it is you found here and we can let bygones be bygones.” 

We all stare each other down with icy gazes as the nice goblin places a long hand on Ranrok’s shoulder “Sir, they had the key to the vault.” 

“Choose your next words wisely.” Ranrok warns as he side-eyes him.

“- I only meant that the instructions for vault twelve were quite clear.” He mutters carefully and fists his hand to his sides “Sir, I must insist. I was to grant access only to one with the key. And you didn’t have-“

With a flash of red, Ranrok levitates the nice goblin banker with an angry grunt. He holds him in the air for a second before descending him towards the ground with full force. The goblin’s spine snaps with an audible ‘crack’, and I let out a trembling breath as brother steps a little bit more in front of me. 

“I have no patience for traitors.” The goblin says, his gaze snapping back to us “Now, where were we?”

“I’m not giving you anything.” Fig barks back at him.

Ranrok hums, annoyed. “Well - Perhaps your young friends here will be more helpful.” 

The professor’s wand lights up as he sends a spell towards Ranrok, who blocks it effortlessly with his own and overpowers it. He sends us flying to the back of the room, making our backs hit the floor with a painful thud.

The floor under the Pensieve starts to swirl as if it turned into water. A knight emerges from it, it is big, too big, and it charges for Ranrok and his comrades, barely missing him with his sword. Professor Fig gets up with a cough and I help brother get on his feet. 

From the corner of my eye I notice a portal to our right and walk over to it, on the other side lay a forest, seemingly peaceful. “I know a way out!” I yell as Fig and Aiden kneel to dodge a swing of the guardian’s sword, who cuts a pillar in half “Professor!” I scream to get their attention.

They run over to the portal as a pillar that was cut in half falls right in our direction, each of us held one of Fig’s shoulders and place our free hands on the portal, the three of us lower our heads and I squeeze my eyes shut as the pillar gets dangerously close to crushing us. A light flashes and the portal does its job.

The professor whoops at our sudden teletransportation and I abruptly open my eyes. I look around, dark trees being all that was around us.

“Are you both alright?” Fig asks.

“Fine, sir.” Aiden answers “Ellise?”

“Me too.”

“I’ve never seen so powerful a goblin.” Eleazar exclaims as he studies our surroundings “He seemed wholly unaffected by my magic.” He turned back to us.

“Where are we?” Aiden asks. a hint of concern in his voice.

Fig looks around once more and chuckles “It can’t be.” He says marvelled “It seems those who set up the Pensieve, the locket - and the path to both - wanted someone with your abilities to end up here.” 

We walk towards a lamppost with multiple path indicators on it, Fig stops right under it “Come. We’ve a Sorting Ceremony to get to.”

The walk to Hogwarts grounds was far from short, and the staircase to the entrance hall was so long that my calves hurt after climbing them. We stood in the hall as Fig placed his ear on the heavy wooden doors.

He walked back to us “We haven’t missed the Sorting Ceremony” He pulls his wand out “I’m no expert, but that seems more appropriate.”

With a swish, Fig changes our clothes to plain black Hogwarts uniforms. The cloak is velvety smooth and the button-up fitted me perfectly. “I need to study this locket as soon as I can, but first I’ll contact the Ministry” He explains “They need to know about Ranrok, and what happened to George. For the moment I ask that you both keep what’s happened only between us.”

The professor walks back to the door and opens it slowly, loud chattering and laughter burst through the small opening and Fig peeks into the room, quickly turning back to us once more.

“Phineas Nigellus Black” He sighs with disdain “Prepare yourselves to meet the Headmaster.”

As if his entrance was timed, a man walks through the doors. He was tall and dressed with splendour, but, in my opinion, he looked much like a cranky goat. I had to hold back a snicker. Aiden noticed and grasped my thought immediately, covering his mouth with his fist to muffle a chuckle.

“Fig - Nice of you to join us.” The Headmaster reprimands “The Sorting Ceremony’s over.”

“There were - complications.” The professor tried to reason “It seems that the goblin problem-“

Nigellus groaned “Enough. Goblins?” He asks amused “I’ve no time for rumours, Fig. And I’m rapidly losing whatever patience I had left.” He turns towards me and my brother “If you’re lucky, we might still get you sorted this evening. Come.”

We both quickly follow the Headmaster, waving Fig a small goodbye with our hands. As we got through the grand doorway, I notice heads turning towards us; not knowing if it was curiosity over our tardiness or late sorting age.

“Professor Weasley, we’ve two more to get sorted” Nigellus exclaims dryly as we reach the front of the room, where a single stool was, ready for whoever to sit on “Go on.’

Aiden notices my apprehension “I can go.”, he reassures. He sat on the stool as the feast hall slowly got quieter, everyone now watching curiously. A woman, seemingly Professor Weasley, placed a hat on his head and as much as I tried to listen in, their mouths moved but no audible sound came out, was the conversation with the hat a private one?

The hat closed its cloth mouth looking deep in thought “You belong in - Slytherin!” The hat yelled through the hall, the Slytherin table bursting into loud cheers and whistles. Aiden got up and Professor Weasley changed his robe accents to his house’s, he walked towards me.

“Good luck, Leesie.” He gave me a reassuring smile and I watched as he walked over to stand beside the woman who was waiting for me to sit down to place the hat on my head.

The hall got quiet again as I sat down on the stool, I look around and-

Brown eyes

The same pair from my dream, I caught a glimpse of them and my heart leapt in her chest for some odd reason. I try to find the gaze again but can’t seem to, my thoughts being interrupted by the weight of the hat being placed on my head.

“Ah, another one of you.” I hear the hat say “Twins I presume?”

“Yes, I’m the oldest.”

“You both are a bit older than the others, aren’t you?” The hat comments, “You come here with preferences and preconceptions - certain expectations.”

“I’m looking forward to exploring Hogwarts and the world beyond the castle and grounds” I chirp at the hat.

“Indeed. Much can be gleaned by having an adventurous spirit. But your professors certainly have a great deal to teach you as well.” The hat stops to think for a bit “You do not give up easily, do you? You are undaunted to challenges that lie ahead, and your loyalty to a friend and your brother delayed your arrival here this evening. I’ve made my mind about you, child.” I fidget with my hands and count down the seconds until the hat announces my house.

“Better be - Hufflepuff!” The hat’s voice echoes down the packed hall, the Hufflepuff table cheering as the woman takes the hat off my head and changes my robe accents to a yolky yellow colour. Dread fills my gut as I realize I was placed in a different house from Aiden. That made me a bit anxious at the least, I hoped I could befriend anyone soon, but I had no clue how different witch children were from muggle-borns, not like I had muggle friends anyway. 

“Anyway, I’m sure you all have plenty to do before classes begin tomorrow,” Nigellus speaks out, the students just stared at him, which seemed to annoy the man “I said - I’m sure you all have plenty to do before classes begin tomorrow!”

Students roll their eyes and groan as all of them get up and exit the hall one by one, I figured I wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone from my house tonight, which bothered me even more.

The woman turned towards me and Aiden “Quite an entrance! It’s lovely to meet you, I’m-”

“Professor Weasley,” The Headmaster interrupts “- Would you be so kind as to show our new students their common rooms?”

“I shall see to it, sir.” she nods and turns back to us “As I was saying - I’m Matilda Weasley, a pleasure to meet you.”

Aiden shakes her hand “I’m Aiden Villin, this is my sister Ellise. A pleasure to meet you as well professor.” I also shake her hand and give her a soft smile, which, to my relief, she returns.

“As Deputy Headmistress, it is my distinct honour to show you both to your common rooms. Right this way.”

Finally, me and Matilda get to my common room, we made sure to drop off brother first in the Slytherin common room, the snake door leaving the my mouth agape.

The Hufflepuff common room entrance was less extraordinary, consisting of what seemed like a wine cellar full of huge barrels “Now, here we are at the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.” Matilda gestures to a couple of stacked barrels on the far end of the cellar.

“This is the entrance?” I ask, puzzled.

“Indeed! I will explain what to do, but I hesitate to do it myself as one errant knock leads to being doused in vinegar. Most unpleasant.” She lets out a low chuckle “You must tap the barrel, two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of Hel-ga Huff-le-puff” 

I approach the barrels, the last thing I need this evening is to be doused in vinegar, having to wash myself and my new uniform. I tap the barrel in the rhythm, thankfully in the correct way, and the biggest barrel in the cellar reveals a tunnel, I can’t hide my relieved smile, beaming with a little bit of pride.

“Well done! Now you go in and get some sleep, you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.” The professor says and I climb into the barrel entrance “In the morning, please make sure to find your brother in his common room if you can, I’ll meet you both there to collect you for your first class.”

“Thank you, Professor Weasley.” I say, feeling grateful that not all faculty is like the goaty Headmaster.

“You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy your first night at Hogwarts. Sleep well.”

As I reached the room of the fifth years, I notice everyone is already asleep, so I’m careful to be as quiet as possible. Waking sleeping colleagues had to be an awful first impression. To my surprise, my tawny owl, Harriet, made it from the dragon attack. I change into the pair of pyjamas that were neatly folded on a bed, seemingly mine, and scratched the owl’s chin, muttering a low “Good girl.”

When I let myself fall on the bed, I feel the heavy exhaustion on my sore muscles, I can’t help but hope tomorrow will be more peaceful, and I can’t help but feel giddy to start classes and meet all sorts of people, people like me.

That night, for the first time in ages, my dreams don’t haunt me.

a/n: Finally I finished this!! I have so much planned for the next chapters, if you read this far, I hope you enjoyed my writing and the next chapter will come soon!

ps. I hope you guys noticed I didn't cancel Quidditch 😉

wattpad link / ao3 link

[hknightdai]

(REQUEST) Beating Bronze - House of the Dragon

Rhea Royce x Male Reader

Tags: Noncon, Oral, Face-fucking, Vaginal, Creampie, Anal, Public Sex

Request: Rhea Royce she keep acting cocky towards reader so one night reader drag her and fuck her in front people until she pass out

XXX

‘Daemon’s a lucky bastard,’ A common thought of yours these days.

Somehow, your brother managed to get his way and fuck off; leaving you to marry the so-called “Bronze Bitch” of the Vale. Admittedly, the first week wasn’t the worst. You fucked on your wedding night, left immediately afterward, then didn’t talk for the rest of the week. It’s not as if she’s unappealing, you simply didn’t know her nor had any wish to. Perhaps in the future, you’ll get to know her.

The future turned out to be a few days later.

You were returning to Runestone after riding your dragon, Velnias, when you ran into her. Or more accurately, her horse.

“So you’ve decided to stop hiding, Husband,” Rhea said, bringing her horse to a stop.

Stepping back so you don’t have to look up too much, you say blandly, “I wasn’t hiding, Dear Wife. I was merely getting used to my new surroundings.”

“Getting used to your new surroundings,” She said. “So that requires you to run from our bed once the deed is done, like a shy boy?”

She smirked down at you from atop her horse. It's fortunate you weren't your brother. Your hand twitches slightly, alongside your eye.

Flexing your jaw, you took a breath and replied.

But she quipped, “I see I’ve left the dragon silent. Maybe you ran because your “performance” was your best.”

The implication was clear enough and your face morphed into one of rage. Seeing so, Rhea laughed before riding off. That was when you found out more about your “Dear Wife.”

Those interactions would continue throughout the first week of your “marriage,” and into your second. She had certainly proven herself to be the bitch Daemon called her. The bronze part, however? No. You’d make sure her attitude went away, you just had to be rough

After some planning, you throw a feast. Certainly not what a person who wants revenge would go for, but you've got a plan.

On the day of the feast, the festivities begin early. The hall of Runestone is filled with the faces of lords and ladies you don’t know, all jolly and laughing with one another. Even your wife joins in. Good. With everyone chugging their drinks down, you mingle about, sipping from your tankard of water.

Hours pass into the late night and everyone’s drunk. Including Rhea.

Walking over to her, you grab her and say, “Come dear, you’re wasted and it’s time to sleep.”

And she very much was. Stumbling simply from your grip, she still has enough attitude to spit a response, “O-ooh look! My husband deigns to give me his presence. Even theee shy dragon has his moments.”

Lost in her drunken stupor, Rhea roars with laughter alongside those she was talking to.

Your face gives for a moment, sneering at her, and then you regain control. Smiling at the others, you tighten your grip and pull her back to your room. The trip to which, breaks you. Rhea stumbles so much that you practically drag her across the hall. You only make it a few more steps before bursting out in anger and pushing her against a nearby wall.

She lets out a shocked cry, “W-what the seven hells, Y/n!”

She goes to continue, but you wrap a hand around her throat.

You get in her face as you squeeze tightly, and hiss, “I’ve had enough of your shit, Rhea! It seems you’ve forgotten that I’m a Prince, not some minor lordling. As a Prince, I must rectify your attitude.”

Rhea grasps at your hand, weakly trying to pull it away but fail. Once her eyes start rolling back, you let go and she drops to her knees, gasping. Saliva already drips from her mouth as she coughs; screwing her eyes shut as she gulps down precious air. With her eyes closed, you drop your pants. Your cock stands stiff in the hallway.

Slightly kneeling, you grip her jaw and her hair and slam into her throat.

“KRRRGLHK! KRPHLK! KRPHLK!”

“Not so high and mighty anymore are you, Bronze Bitch?!” You hiss.

Left weak from her earlier drinks and lack of air, the proud Lady of Runestone is left grasping and clawing at the floor. Though she does try to bite down, your grip on her jaw is enough to stop any such movement. The attempt does however draw our ire.

Your fingers clench hard enough to leave bruises. The hand in her hair yanks her head back, slamming it into the wall.

“Grrglk!” She cries.

“I see I need to beat harder,” You snarl.

Her head hits against the stone with every snap of your hips. Glaring down at your “wife,” you can see how pathetic she now looks: Her eyes are screwed shut in pain with tears running down her face; spit spews from the corners of her mouth, dripping down onto her clothed breasts as they heave.

Grinning, you hilt inside her throat. Rhea’s convulsing throat brings you to the brink and you pull out. Rhea hurls and coughs as you jerk your cock until you cum on her face and tongue.

Breathing heavily, you grab her messy face with the same hand that just jerked you off, you say, “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson, but still. Are tamed now, Dear Wife?”

Rhea glares up at you, her breaths coming as rasps. She sneers for a moment then tries to spit in your face. But you quickly raise the hand on her jaw to block it, getting even more spit on it. At that moment, she tries to stand but trips, her legs still wobbly from the alcohol and kneeling.

Your hand whips out and grabs the front of her shirt. Pulling her towards you, you smack her with the spit-covered one and let her fall on her stomach.

“Stupid bitch,” You say, though you expected it. “On to the next part then.”

Flipping her over, you enter a pitiful struggle as you rip her shirt open and she tries to stop you, hitting you with lackluster smacks and punches. When you get to her pants, she seems to regain some power. A kick scraps you while another nearly catches you in your exposed bits.

“RHEA!” You roar.

Your voice spooks her for a moment and you yank her pants and undergarments down as best you can. Despite your best effort, they catch on her knees before she resumes her struggle. But it’s enough for you. Grabbing her frantic legs, you squeeze them tight and bend her half.

“Yo-ou Bastard!” Rhea hisses, her breath being knocked from her with the force you used.

“It’s our child, Rhea. It’s not going to be a bastard.”

And with that, you spit on her lower lips and sink into her.

You let out a moan, not bothering to hide your pleasure as Rhea clenches her jaw, the sound of her sharp breathes is the only reaction she reluctantly gives. Pulling back, you slam into her. The smack of flesh rings out. Rhea claws the ground as you fuck into her.

“Are you enjoying my performance, dear Wife?” You taunt. “Or would you like more?”

Reach around her legs, you palm her breast, squeezing it. Rhea lets out a low whine as you pinch and pull on her nipple. By now, your cock practically slides in and out of her with how wet her cunt has become from your abuse.

“So you are liking my performance. It seems the Bronze Bitch is merely a whore with a hard shell,” You say, grinning.

Moving from her tits upward, you grab her throat, “Look at me, Rhea. Watch as your husband rapes you in your own home!”

Rhea’s face turns a shade of red before she finally opens her eyes. You take a sick pleasure from watching her mouth fall open as she gasps and drools while you fuck her. Clenching your jaw, you snap in and out of her cunt. Soon enough, your thrusts stutter and the sopping smacks die down as you hilt inside of her and fill her with your cum.

When your hand leaves her throat, you immediately have to catch yourself as you fall atop her in exhaustion.

“I…I take it that was enough for you, Rhea?” You say after a moment.

She doesn’t answer.

Looking at her, you catch a glimpse of her taking a deep breath. Then she strikes. A punch to the side of the head knocks you off of her and you go tumbling. Clenching the wound, you whip your head to see her hurriedly trying to get up as she scrambles away.

Furious, you have little trouble standing and stomping over to her.

Rhea’s barely got a foot fully on the ground before you grab the pants which are now around her ankles, and yank. She falls into the stone ground but barely manages to stop herself from faceplanting. She pushes herself up before you grip her brown mane and force her face into the ground.

She cries out as you hiss in her ear, “I was teaching you a fucking lesson, bitch! But it’s clear I need to stop holding back.”

“Beating a drunk enemy, you’re real tough, Bastard!” She barks, glaring at you in the corner of her eye.

Sneering, you spit in her face. As Rhea clenches her eye shut from the stinging pain. With both arms in one hand and her hair in the other, you yank her to her feet before marching her down the hall, back to the feast.

“You damn fool!” She yells, seeing where you’re taking her. “They’ll never stand for this. You’ll be dead before the sun rises.”

“I’m certain those fuckers are too drunk to even stumble towards me. And if not, well.” You shrug. “Velnias should be enough of an incentive to sit the fuck down.”

Once the hall is in sight, you have to struggle to keep your bitch from escaping your hold. Yanking her into the doorway, it takes a few moments before anyone notices but when they do there are mixed reactions. Some gawk at the sight of their friend/lady almost fully naked, her clothes being either around her ankles or torn apart, barely hanging onto her. While others, the more agreeable ones, laugh and howl in drunken amusement. Then there are the yelling ones.

“What’s wrong, my lords?” You shout in merriment. “Can’t the freshly married enjoy some fun with their friends?”

You clench Rhea’s arms and quietly hiss, “Go along with it, bitch. I die, Velnias goes wild.”

You can see her work her jaw side to side before purposefully slurring her words, “Enjooy yourselves. We cerinlly will!”

And the merry howl as the gawkers merely shrug and continue on, though some do still gawk. And the yellers, well they aren’t happy. Some leave, but many just laugh, so lost in the alcohol they won’t likely remember. But Rhea will.

Tuging her along to the head table, you slam into the side of it, giving everyone a great view of your cock rubbing between Rhea’s cheeks. Grabbing a tankard of wine, you drink some before spitting it onto her back and ass.

Rhea sharply inhales, “You fu-”

She almost gives the game away but stops herself.

Rhea trembles beneath your touch as you rub the alcohol against her asshole.

“How about next time you decide to mouth off, you remember this night, Rhea,” You mutter.

Pulling back, you slam into her wet cunt before pulling out and slamming into her tight hole. Rhea’s eyes go wide and she tries to muffle her scream. Veins pop out along her neck as her face goes red from the strain.

With your grip on her arms still in place, you use it as leverage as you pull back and slam back into her. Showing her no mercy, your cock stretches her ass open wide as you fuck her in front of everyone. Rhea tries to hide her face away against the table, but the raucous laughter is a constant reminder of the audience.

Your cock practically saws in and out of her, but despite how uncomfortable it is, her hot ass clings to you tighter than anything else. You can’t help slamming back into her.

For a few moments, there are no words between you two, just the labored breaths of you two.

Despite the pleasure, you grab the tankard of wine again. Tilting it over your wife, you drench her in it. From head to toe, wine drips from her shaking form as she whines from the pleasure and pain.

One of the men quips, “She must be thirsty!”

“You’re damn right!” You shout back.

Rhea’s breathing quickens as she quakes. The shame of this act combined with the fucking itself, leaves her in shock. Unable to hold back any longer, you feel her ass clench around you as she lets out a croaking moan and squirts onto the floor before falling unconscious on the table.

Caught unsuspecting, you let out a groan and fill her ass to the brim.

Once you've caught your breath, you look out to the room of merry men. You notice many groping their partners while other men lay unconscious themselves.

“It seems I’ve fucked the Bronze Bitch unconscious!” You bellow into laughter.

In the coming days, many don’t recall much of the night, which is good. But Rhea does. She remembers every instant of your punishment, which is good. You don’t think a second public performance is going to go as well as last time.

Oh well, at least the Bronze Bitch has learned her lesson.

[saltminerising]

Is anyone else kinda tired of these really mild, personal takes are submitted. Like some of these posts should really just be... on the forums? In discord? Does anyone really care that all the XXX dragons on the AH are related? Is anyone gonna respond to that? Like if it's not hot goss why is it posted here anonymously. The best way to make friends is to talk to people and you just really hurt your chances doing that by submitting it to the void

[theshadowyalchemist]

Varian and Yong Script (New Ver.)

Audition script combined. 

VARIAN is walking through the kingdom of Bayangor as the sun is setting, enchanted by the city lighting up before him as the sky begins to darken, suddenly there was a yell from nearby and soon after YONG came barreling towards Varian on a large, out of control firework rocket

YONG (yelling) 

Watch out! 

Yong  jumps off the rocket and tumbling to the ground with a “Oof..” Varian yelps and ducks out of the way of the firework rocket 

VARIAN

 Woah!

Varian sits up from the ground and watches the runaway firework fly through an empty alleyway 

YONG

Oh no! 

Yong runs over to Varian. 

YONG (frantically) 

I’m so sorry sir! Are you okay?

VARIAN (reassuringly) 

I-I’m okay. What was that all about?

YONG

My firework for the contest went astray… 

VARIAN

What contest? 

YONG

You never heard of the contest!? 

Yong looks at Varian, taking in his appearance which is quite different from the Bayangoran clothes and fashion. 

YONG

You aren't from around here, are you? 

VARIAN

Well, no… I'm from Corona actually. 

YONG

That's far away… What are you doing here? 

VARIAN

I'm looking for something… Well, it's not important. What's this contest you were talking about? 

YONG  

It's the biggest firework show in Bayangor! Each contestant makes their own fireworks and the one who puts up the best show wins!  I've always wanted to take part in that but my parents didn't let me, saying I'm way too young to be playing with explosives or something. This year, I'll finally start!

VARIAN

Woah… A firework show? I've never heard of anything like this… And you'll be making the fireworks all by yourself? 

YONG

Pretty much…  Unless you want to help me. I always did it pretty much on my own and it would be nice to have help for once. If you want to of course! And if you even know how…  You know, I really didn't think this through-

VARIAN (interrupting Yong) 

I happen to know some things and I'd love to help you but I have to find… this something I'm looking for. Yeah. 

YONG

And what are you looking for? 

VARIAN 

(Sighs) 

I don't really know. It could be anything…  

Varian takes out his mother's journal and quickly searches for something while Yong is looking at him curiously. 

VARIAN

Do you have a ‘pretty huge statue’ somewhere around here? 

YONG (confused) 

You mean The Dragon Monument?

VARIAN

You have dragons here!? 

YONG

No, no… From what I remember the guy who they built the statue for loved fighting with fire and they called him Dragon because of that. It isn't far from here actually. I can show you if you want? 

VARIAN

You'd really do that? 

YONG

Yeah! And maybe once you're done with whatever you're doing you could help me with the fireworks?

VARIAN (laughing) 

Sure. ______________________________________________________________

Thanks to @Ognicho and @sageartz for this amazing script which is a combination of both of theirs and ended up AMAZING :) All the scripts are now FULLY in and there will be no more changes :) Good luck to everyone auditioning (including me lol)

Leo xxx

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #2

xxx trust issues

The assassin is an amateur. Charles can tell by the knock-off Ray-Bans and the slightly too-short suit and the scuffed shoes. This guy is trying way too hard on way too small of a budget to be a big-hitter. Charles almost feels bad for the guy. Or, he did a minute ago, before the guy shot him. Now, he's pissed.

Charles's father would probably tell him to get answers before killing the gunman, but rage has taken over. It's a familiar feeling. All he can think about is ending this man. So he hits him, again and again. He doesn't even feel the bullet wound in his left bicep, doesn't notice the blood soaking his sleeve. The man stops crying out after the first few blows. Then he stops moving altogether.

Charles doesn't stop.

"Chairleg!"

The shout filters through the furious noise in Charles's head, and he pauses, just for a second, between blows.

"Charles!"

Someone grabs his right wrist from behind and Charles whirls, left fist flying at the person's face. The person catches his hand easily and twists. The sudden forced movement causes the bullet hole in his arm to finally make itself known, sending out bright zaps of pain that extend from his bicep up to his shoulder and all the way down to his fingertips. He staggers back a step, vision going black for a second even as he raises his fists. Then, his vision clears and he lowers them slightly, breathing hard.

"Drowsy?"

"The police will be here any minute, let's go." As if to prove his point, the distant wail of sirens splits the air. This isn't Jade Dragon territory, which means the police aren't on the payroll. It also means they might be on someone else's, and if that's the case then Charles definitely doesn't want to be here when they arrive.

"Charles, we need to go. I know a place nearby."

Charles's eyes narrow. "We?"

Drowsy rolls his eyes and lets out an annoyed huff. "Just come on," he says, grabbing Charles's good arm and dragging him away from what's left of the would-be assassin.

xxx

Charles takes a long drag on the cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly. "What were you even doing there?"

Drowsy ignores the question, walking back from the kitchen to the table. He sets down a bag and a bottle of Tunnel 88 liquor, then juts his chin toward Charles. "Take your shirt off."

"Can't you just rip off the sleeve or something?"

Drowsy turns to him, one eyebrow raised. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," Charles says, glaring at him.

Drowsy snorts. "You were over here, what, three nights ago? Taking off way more than your shirt."

Charles clenches his jaw, his cheeks getting hot. He's glad that Drowsy is too busy pulling things from the bag (bandages, antiseptic, tweezers) to notice.

"That's not the same thing."

It's been almost a year since the first time Charles and Drowsy hooked up, sloppy and heated, in the metro station bathroom—a fight that had turned into something else halfway through. It's embarrassing and cliche, but also unsurprising in many ways. With their lives (their families), a normal, healthy relationship isn't exactly in the cards. It's almost business-like, this thing between them. Sex, without strings and, more importantly, without questions. If one of them shows up with a black eye and split lip, or a gun, or doesn't show up at all, they both know not to talk about it. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement.

This is different. This is vulnerable. He's hooked up with Drowsy, yes, but he doesn't trust him.

Drowsy is staring at him like he's waiting for Charles to change his mind. Charles doesn't. Drowsy finally lets out a sigh, shaking his head.

"Fine."

Charles watches as Drowsy reaches for the sheath that sits at his lower back, over his spine. Drowsy pulls the knife out slowly, making eye contact with Charles, his left hand raised in an exaggerated display of non-violence. It's obvious that he's picked up on Charles's distrust, and is mocking him for it. It takes conscious effort on Charles's part not to rise to the taunt. His arm has yet to stop bleeding, and the sleeve of his white shirt has grown saturated with blood. It tinges Drowsy's fingers with crimson as he cuts the fabric away to get a closer look at the bullet hole.

"Can you move your fingers?" Drowsy asks.

Charles responds by curling his fingers into a fist and then uncurling them.

"Any numbness?"

"Nope," Charles says. He kind of wishes there were numbness, even though he's fairly certain that would mean some kind of nerve damage.Now that things have quieted down, he's feeling the wound a lot more, a sharp pain that spreads much further than the surprisingly small hole would suggest. Not that he lets it show. He takes another lazy drag on his cigarette.

"I need to get that bullet out," Drowsy says. He grabs the bottle of liquor he'd brought to the table and holds it out to Charles. "Here."

"I don't need that," Charles says, and Drowsy smirks.

"Yes, you do. I've gone through this more than once myself. You're going to want a drink."

Charles narrows his eyes, then snatches the bottle from Drowsy. Kaoliang liquor isn't his favorite, but he takes a long drink anyway, making sure not to grimace. He sets the bottle back on the table, then nods once.

"Go ahead."

The cool facade Charles has put on is harder to keep up when Drowsy pours antiseptic over his arm, the stuff burning its way deep into the wound. His arm twitches, despite his best efforts, but Drowsy doesn't mention it. He pours disinfectant over the tweezers, then glances up at Charles.

"You ready for this?"

"Just do it."

Charles grits his teeth as Drowsy digs into the wound, letting out short breaths through flared nostrils. He's determined not to make a sound, curling his fingers into fists and squeezing his eyes shut against the agony shooting through his left arm. He has no idea how much time passes, but it feels like an eternity.

"Got it," Drowsy finally says.

"Took you long enough," Charles grinds out. His jaw is aching from clenching it. Drowsy shakes his head, opening a package of gauze and pressing it firmly (a little roughly) against the wound.

"You know, some gratitude wouldn't hurt, Chairleg. Do you know what my father would do if he found out about this?"

Charles lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Probably the same thing mine would do."

Drowsy is quiet as he wraps a bandage around Charles's bicep, holding the gauze in place. He doesn't look at Charles when he speaks.

"I was able to help you tonight because it wasn't directly against my family's interests. But there's going to be a time when that won't be the case." He doesn't say, I won't choose you over them, but the meaning is clear.

"You think I don't know that?" The words come out harsh, more defensive than he would like. This isn't Romeo and Juliet. Charles has never had any illusions about that.

"Of course you fucking know!" Drowsy snaps, his voice rising to meet Charles's tone. He takes a deep breath. "Both of us have always known. I'm just saying, we need to be prepared."

Charles blinks. It sounds like a warning. He looks up at Drowsy, studies his expression for any hint of...what? What is he expecting to see hidden there? Guilt, or danger maybe? Some deadly gleam in his eye? But there's nothing. Drowsy's expression is carefully, infuriatingly blank.

"Anyway, I'm finished," Drowsy says. "You'll live, but you lost a lot of blood. You need rest. You can stay here tonight, if you want. On the couch."

Again, Charles finds suspicion growing in his chest. But Drowsy did just spend the last hour patching him up. If he were going to make a move tonight, he would have done it already. Charles doesn't want to stay, doesn't want to owe Drowsy any more than he already does, but he's pretty fucking tired and it's not like he can call Blood Boots or Xing to come pick him up. Their loyalty is to his father, not him. He heaves a sigh, then reaches for the bottle of Tunnel 88 and takes a drink.

"Fine." Maybe it's the blood loss, or the alcohol, or the combination of the two, but Charles finds himself saying something he's never said before. "Thanks."

"Sure, Chairleg."

Drowsy grabs him a pillow and blanket. The mood has shifted, both of them falling into a sullen quiet. Charles is sure Drowsy knows something, but that's for future Charles to deal with. For now, he gets settled on the couch, laying on his right side to avoid putting any weight on his throbbing left arm. For now, he sleeps.

xxx

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

#filed that away under:#cig being wrong

FILE THIS!:

Love u xxx

LISTEN CIG!!!!!!!!! I don’t actually have a problem with TK listening to Eminem, hehe, it’s just… not all he listens to.

Also, i know we like to joke about TK listening to Macklemore… I think I posted this (or maybe @guardian-angle22 did) a while ago but in the conversation with Cooper where he brings up Macklemore, they were discussing sober artists who have songs about going through the 12-step program. I don’t know about Imagine Dragons as much, but I do know their singer is sober/has written songs about getting and being sober.

And I do know that Macklemore has extensively spoken and written songs about his addiction and his struggles to get and stay sober, and to find anonymity at AA meetings as a (small time) celebrity.

So, in my opinion, his listening to Macklemore isn’t necessarily representative of his music taste as much as him appreciating artists who have gone through the same struggles as him and who aren’t afraid to talk about it!

[bardkin]

being a ridden dragon & not yet knowing what that entails

inspired by @who-is-page's post here! i decided fuck it !! i wanna write (more) about the draconic aspects of myself, timidness be damned.

as a quick preface, i am a psychological 'kin! i hold loose beliefs in multiverse & a form of reincarnation, but i don't know for sure if / don't think those things apply to me specifically.

o()xxx[{:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::>

i've known i'm a dragon for a while, now. i go somewhat in-depth about it here in this entry about adopting/trying out the term folcintera for myself, but i didn't really touch on one of the newer revelations i had about it:

i'm the dragon in a rider-dragon pair.

as for how i know this, it just feels Correct. (far as i'm aware,) i don't have any past or concurrent life memories, or know who/what my rider is or was. this is a noema that i cannot explain further, as of yet. I Just Know this aspect is fact.

i mentioned [in my linked entry] that my first up close exposure to dragons was the Eragon series, which is what cemented my idea of what "dragon" was to me. ever since that series, i've been aggressively hyperfixated on dragon-rider stories; the kind of hyperfixation that waxes and wanes, but when it hits, it Hits like a Truck.

i don't think i'm from any one specific source, such as How to Train Your Dragon, Dragonriders of Pern, or Eragon. none of those really feel like places i've lived or belonged in. my specific brand of dragonity is wildly different from any dragons you'd see in the listed settings/stories, so i am not any dragon you'll see in those stories — but i also am.

moreso, i feel a connection to the dynamic between rider and dragon; the trappings don't truly matter, in the end. i am the archetypal dragon-with-a-rider, and see myself in almost any dragon-rider setting. i am a Ridden Dragon, and that will mean something different to everyone who interacts with dragon-rider lore — including myself. i am both folcinteric and an archetrope, in this regard.

before i awakened, and thought about dragon-rider stories, i thought i was simply wanting to live in a world where i could share a bond like that & go on adventures... and while that's still true, since i'm an escapist storyteller, there's a key difference between then and now.

i thought i had to relate to and imagine myself as the rider — and that never felt completely right.

now that i'm aware of and better exploring my draconic side, this aspect has come to light. and i have No idea what it could mean for me.

as stated, i don't know who my rider was/is or could be. i don't know what our dynamic was like, if our bond is of magical origin or through mutual trust. though, that might have something to do with me being archetypal, here. my rider could be anyone; our bond origin could be of any type, so long as it serves the purpose of the archetype.

dragon riding means different things to different people. sometimes it's about taming a wild beast, akin to horseback riding. other times it's a magical bond. and other times still, it's about trust and friendship.

i still don't know what my personal mythos is, or if i have one at all. maybe it is just that dynamic, nebulous and without a tether. or maybe it's just not uncovered quite yet.

i don't know how common being a ridden dragon is, be it in fictherian/fictionkin dragon spaces, or more general dragonkind spaces, because i haven't seen it talked about much. possibly because i'm just not looking in the right places, but, *shrug*!

i have no idea if this post will inspire any other dragons with riders (or maybe even dragon riders!) to write about their experiences. but, never know unless i post, so ;]

thanks for reading!

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Nonsense

@soulmateseptember

Summary: Written for Soultember 2023. Set before Httyd 1. A soulmate. Everyone has one, but not everyone is lucky enough to meet theirs. The only thing you have to lead you are your first spoken words. Despite growing up surrounded by a tightknit village, Hiccup feels alone. And as his First Spoken Words sound like nonsense to him, he fears his soulmate, too, will be as out of reach as the acceptance and love that he seeks from his father and his tribe.

Warning: /

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup

Pairing: Hicctooth (platonic)

Words: 530

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: First Words

Author’s Notes: My only prompt written for Soultember 2023.

Enjoy! :)

XXX

Nonsense. The words sound like nonsense to him.

Ever since Hiccup figured out it were his soulmate’s first words to him that he could hear inside his head, he’s been trying to figure out what they’ve been saying.

Soulmates know they’ve found one another when the first words they speak directly to each other matches the ones they’ve been hearing in the backs of their minds for their entire lives. They’re literally referred to as; The First Spoken Words.

Unfortunately for Hiccup, he hasn’t been able to figure out what his mean. He’s tried to look into sagas, requested book after book from Trader Johann, talked with seafaring merchants that have come from far off places and dared to sail up to the Barbaric Archipelago despite the Dragon Scourge.

None of them have been able to tell him anything so far, not even the language he’s hearing.

In a bout of anger, he throws another book at the wall. It lands on his desk, causing some of his pencils and papers to fall to the ground. It makes quite a bit of noise in his quiet house, but he finds himself unable to care. He’s home alone, his dad has left on another quest to find the Dragon’s Nest.

Sitting on his bed, the 14-year-old, just shy of 15, pulls his blankets around himself. As if concealment will somehow hide him away from the world. As if it’ll somehow shield him from the apparent fact that he can’t even decipher his soulmate’s first words to him.

He doesn’t even know what language they’re spoken in. By now he knows English, French, Gaelic, Latin, bits and pieces of a few others… But none… none seem to match the things he’s been hearing for as long as he can remember.

The odd sounds that echo endlessly in his mind, begging to be solved. They’re just growls. Growls and what sounds like a screech. They make absolutely no sense to him. They sound so animalistic, he can’t hear a single word. He would almost think his soulmate a dragon if not for the fact that this was completely impossible.

Though how ironic would it be? The embarrassment of Berk’s soulmate, his soul’s life partner, can’t even be the right species. They can’t even be on the same side of a war that’s been going on for the past 300 years.

He feels so alone. In a tight knit village of only a little over a 100 people, there’s no where he truly belongs, no one who even wants to hold a normal conversation with him. Not unless it’s to talk about how he should change literally everything about himself before anyone would consider him worthy of “normal conversation.” No friends, his father is always as far away from him as he possibly can… In a place in which no one seems to want him, he thought he could at least have his soulmate with him.

Apparently, he thought wrong.

Still hiding away, wrapped in his blanket, he lies down. His heart aches as he’s plagued by his First Spoken Words, knowing he’s never going to find out who- or what- they belong to.

[originemesis]

[continued - xxx] @avispatr , @mages-pandoras-box , @a-hell-of-a-time

Something practical to say huh? Well, he's not wrong because Adam is currently mid-jam session on that axe shaped guitar of his, and the most practical thing that follows his mutilation of a melody is the obnoxious battle cry of a guitar solo without pesky lyrics to distract from the "-nyAHNANA NA NA BANANANUUUUUAHHHHH!!!" 'Practical. Progressive. Pussy Peril. Adam.' T-shirt sales guaranteed.

Though it would take some kind of feat to distract him from his duties in drumming up more vibrations via high-strung strings and swirling them into the whirlwind of a pillar busy picking and assembling small pieces of the Goetian manor like peeling skin off a sunburnt back, a display of growing multiple beast heads certainly fit the minimum requirement to turn his own, half cocked and banging in place along with the beat. Oh yeah...just imagining how hard an act of headbanging would fuck with four thrashing points, the angel dips a golden wing tip into the swirl of his churning twister of sound and window glass and rides the pillar up higher escalator style for a better gander of those drooling maws from above. Aw! The bottom one on the left...was that a cleft lip? Adorbs.

"Funny you're so ON about ~dignity~ when you're over here giving all this HEAD. Lemme guess- this is your circumcision 'trauma' story talking~?" A tsk is interrupted by the blast of magic from below. He might as well have settled over an air vent with how it inflates his robe into a parachute and shoots him upwards with a jerk of jarring turbulence, leaving him momentarily as fucked as Mary Poppins. Annoyed gaze flicking down at the source, he flings the neck of his guitar downwards once he takes up the task of royally fucking the environment again with his thunderous set of strumming to fling more sound waves at the staggered beast, its snowy feathered companion, and the fuckwad that thought it cute to blow him off course like a dandelion seed. That just left-...someone unimportant, he's sure!

Considering there's literally OWL DRAGON heads to pspspsps at, which he does by flinging the beast's round of testy sound waves at, a particularly screechy one to mimic the four sides of its snarling. "Or are you just trying to get AHEAD of me here~!?" Practically preening his strings with each forward flick of wrist, he chuckles as the weight of the axe suddenly drops his forearms just a tad with the added weight of its swelling. Though the party just getting started gets postponed with the swoop of black feathers bursting up by his blindside.

It's with a startled shove of his shoulder that he interrupts the neck-bound slash, catching it at the crook between collarbone and shoulder cap in a spurt of golden blood that splashes Caim's obsidian feathers a shade of iridescence. It's a quick shock and an inconvenience that he issues a shrieking hiss and a fierce beat of golden wings against his attacker to both slap the other away with the edges of his primaries and issue a backwards gust, and to gain altitude near the newly formed, thrashing heads that made up Paimon's four sided murder boner. "You fucking...BITCH." He snarls down at Caim, making sure the next few sonic booms from his renewed playing finds their way towards her. Birds were birds...if he could flip them over their own ass in the air long enough, then they'd get to taste exactly what he was cooking with the unrelenting symphony at his talon tips. "Giving head sloppy as that, girlie? Well your form's shit! Here ~ " He clucks, nodding horns towards the thrashing necks of the beast before them all. "Let me show you HOW IT'S..." Another burst of growth in his axe plumps it further as he waits in the twisting winds of the pillar before beating his wings to shoot out towards a different pillar to climb...the neck of one of Paimon's heads. The 'unassuming but quirky' one. Robes brush the feathery fury of whipping shadows as he spirals up the base midway, he pauses in his plucking to grasp the very end of his axe's neck and swing the momentum of his full body weight into a vicious spiral of his own.

Action surge. "-DOooOOOoOOoNE !! CAW CAWWWWWWW...!"

hit counter - [2/20] , phase - [1]

[amithedraghole]

AITDH for being upset over an offer that was less than 0.000001 of my asking price?

This was a while ago, but I was selling a G1 triple for around 200kg. I was willing to go lower on offers if it was pure gems, but I wasn't interested in much else at the time. There were plenty of G2+ dragons on the AH with the same XXX color, a few for less than 15kt. I got an offer from someone I had never spoken to before, and for my G1 triple they were asking instead for around 20kt in fodder apparel

I asked if they were joking and they said they were serious. I just ignored it, and eventually took on another offer that was actually serious. Then the fodder apparel asker demanded a response from me, and I just stated "I have an actual offer, and half their payment right now." and got more demands to sell to them instead. I just grabbed AH dragons and sent the links with "here's dragons in your price range" and ignored them again. One whole 5 egg nest was literally only 5500 treasure each on the AH when I sent it.

I just ended up blocking them, but I very quickly noticed a lot more people ignoring my posts and messages, and people I was once able to talk to had suddenly blocked me. I've only recently learned it was because fodder apparel offerer was talking shit about me for being rude, but I don't think I was. I had already explained what a G1 triple meant, why it was worth so much, and offered other dragons instead - this wasn't even a new user. They'd been active for years before me.