#I love drawing Dark Riders so much

[askefrueee3]

Boot Dark Riders preparing for a mission :DDD (I love drawing them so, so much!) 7th sketch for @kelly-dreamway-sso 's SSO Promptoween. Sorry for a break in posting, I will catch up with everything now, I needed a bit time off. I hope you will enjoy some simpler sketches as well.

[say-al0e]

Electric Touch

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: Following your marriage to Prince Aemond, you did not imagine there would be a bedding ceremony. Nor did you imagine yourself falling so quickly for the one-eyed prince. But you quickly learned he was more than met the eye. | Ft. Anon request for "“What part of I want you and only you do you not understand?” + “Love makes you weak but, god, I’d rather be weak with you by my side than face a life without you.” Warnings: Bedding ceremony, PinV, guarded Aemond, Aegon is an asshole (briefly, then he's gone), one mention of death in childbirth (not graphic, very brief), allusion to Aemond's brothel trip. Anything I missed, let me know and I'll tag it. Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader (wife!Reader) Word Count: 5.1k Requests are Open | HotD Taglist

The fire blazing in Aemond’s eye was not what you expected. It was not fueled by desire, a lust for his new bride or the exciting conquest of claiming your maidenhead as you’d long been warned. It was not bright or joyous, a fire befitting the occasion of your wedding night. Instead, it was dark - angry, a wild blaze threatening to torch everything in its path with little regard for the consequences.

Though your new husband had been nothing but kind to you, polite and even occasionally charming, for the first time since stepping foot into King’s Landing, you finally understood why so many tended to avert their gaze lest they face Aemond’s ire. 

Before you stood Aemond One-Eye, a fierce dragon rider whose presence commanded attention, and you struggled to keep from withering beneath his gaze as you held his dark look with an even one of your own.

Around you, his apartments teemed with life. Drunken revelers laughed as they surged into the room and circled the pair of you, some of them shouting tawdry jokes while others lamented the loss of the right to the first night. Regardless of their mood, it seemed as if every man in the realm fought to be at your side in a room that once felt so spacious but now left you struggling to catch your breath as they began tugging at pieces of your clothing.

As many hands clumsily tugged at well-tied laces and the heavy fabric of your gown, a few highborn ladies - friends you’d made in the short time you’d been at Court - dutifully removed Aemond’s clothes with much less vigor than their husbands or brothers or cousins.

Aegon led the charge, grin on his lips and breath reeking of wine as he leaned in close. Aemond’s gaze faltered for only a moment, turning to his brother and flashing a warning even the drunkest of men could read very clearly, before it returned to you as Aegon pointedly ignored him. Your drunken good-brother chose, instead, to tip your chin with fingers sticky with wine and draw your gaze away from your husband.

“Do not worry, good-sister,” he began, voice loud, despite his performative attempt at a whisper. He spared Aemond a look, eyes glinting with a mirth that bordered on malice - before he returned his gaze to you. “I made sure my brother was well-educated in the art of pleasure but should you find yourself wanting, you need only say the word.”

By design, you were not given the chance to respond. The last of your garments was removed from your body and Aegon released his grip on your chin to grab your waist. 

The sea of revelers parted. Amidst a cacophony of cheers and jeers, a few murmurs as to how it was a shame your father had agreed to wed you to a man they saw as less than whole, Aegon and one of his friends carried you through the crowd and deposited you into Aemond’s bed.

It was only when you were settled amongst the furs and linens that they were all finally ushered out of the room.

If you were honest, it surprised you that Aemond allowed the bedding ceremony in the first place. The idea was put forth by his brother, a suggestion he’d barely blinked an eye at, but it was plain to see just how adversely the entire spectacle affected him as he approached the bed.

Aemond Targaryen, the very image of his house’s beauty and fire, stood before you with his face a mask of composure you had yet to see fully slip. There were cracks, glimpses into the churning abyss that lingered just beneath the calm surface, and you could see them beginning to spread as a jeer from the crowd echoed just beyond the steel and wood of the door.

There was a flash of hurt, a glimpse so brief you felt certain you’d imagined it, before he swallowed and his jaw tensed. He steeled himself, his resolve, and you could see the mask slip back into place.

“My prince,” you began, voice far quieter than you intended as you sat upright to meet his gaze. “I do not-“

A hum escaped your new husband as he stepped closer, pressing a knee into the soft surface beneath you and shaking his head slightly. “We will speak when there is no crowd standing guard just outside, waiting for evidence our marriage has been consummated. For now, we must fulfill our duty as husband and wife.”

There was an edge of finality in his tone, no room left for argument as he reached for you. Though his touch was not harsh, not as insistent or eager as the men who’d taken great joy in stripping you bare, it was firmer than you’d expected. In the weeks of your courtship, he’d lended an arm as you descended the steps in the garden or offered a hand as you climbed them - each touch soft, almost tentative, and as brief as could be considered proper. 

It was wistful, possibly even naive, to believe the softness of his touch was affection or that it would continue as he pressed you back into the pillows. Aemond was not an outwardly affectionate man, that much you knew to be true, nor was he used to being treated so tenderly. His life had been one lived in a gilded cage, acquiescing to everything expected of him with little argument and even less connection. Love would not come easy to him, nor would affection.

Only time would bring him comfort, trust in you and the ability to be vulnerable, so you made no argument as he settled himself over you. 

The dim candlelight made it difficult to see much - and you wondered how Aemond might react if you allowed yourself to savor the sight of him - but you took the brief chance you were offered to study him. Tall, lithe, muscular; he looked every bit the fearsome dragon rider and well-trained swordsman. Pale hair cascaded over his shoulders, a curtain that cast shadows over the sharp features of his face, but you could clearly see the intrigue in his eye as you lifted your hand to gently cradle his jaw.

Had you not been studying him so closely, so desperate to see some glimpse of warmth beneath the cool surface of your new husband, you might’ve missed his sharp inhale or the way his eye narrowed. Had you not been so enthralled by his appearance, you might’ve missed the way he swallowed or the split second he allowed himself to lean into your careful touch before the impassive mask returned.

Friends, some long married with babes while others had just wed, whispered and giggled when they shared what you could expect. Most of your friends lamented the act itself, thankful only that it often seemed to be over quickly,  as many of their husbands were older lords in need of young wives to produce heirs. It seemed that few cared much at all about their wives’ pleasure and you’d wondered throughout your courtship if Aemond - though young, a man of your own age - might prove similar.

Now that the time had come to find out, you still felt wholly uncertain.

For a long moment, Aemond simply studied you. The deep lilac of his eye traced your face, shadowed by his hair and framed by your own locks - now free from the style your handmaids worked so hard to perfect - and his lips parted. He seemed poised to speak, though before he could, the sound of fists pounding the wood of the door broke whatever spell existed in the solace of the room.

Loud jeers from a drunken crowd reminded you both of your purpose, the reason you had been stripped bare for half the kingdom to see, and Aemond was the first to act.

Though you hoped for little and expected even less, Aemond wanted nothing more than to prove everyone wrong. He wanted to prove that he could be a husband, an adequate lover, a man who had everything and more. You had no way of knowing his motivation, not then, but you could see the flame in his eye as his hand fell to your hip.

With the hand still cradling his jaw, you managed to hold him in place as you leaned up and pressed your mouth to his. Since speaking your vows earlier in the night, you’d managed to steal two chaste kisses from your new husband - one just after the ceremony, in the few seconds you had alone before the feast began; the other, tucked in a corner before you were whisked away for the bedding. He responded well to both, stepping just an inch closer and allowing his lips to linger for a long moment, and you were pleased to find that he responded just as well to this kiss.

The ladies at court often lamented their husbands’ lack of skill or desire to share a kiss. They all sighed and confessed that the men found no use for it, no fun in it. It made you wonder if Aemond was humoring you, allowing you the kiss that seemed almost tender in nature, in return for your maidenhead - for your hand, your house’s newly pledged loyalty - but you knew well enough that your new husband was not one to indulge in anything he did not want to.

Hope bloomed, then, just beneath your ribcage that he might, someday, even grow to enjoy it as much as you suddenly found that you did.

Calloused hands began to explore your skin, touch light for a fleeting moment - almost reverent, almost tentative - before it grew steadier, more certain. The tips of his fingers left a path of fire in their wake, his skin always running hotter than anyone you’d ever met, and you nearly expected to find a visible path seared over the expanse of your torso as his hands dipped to your thighs.

As of yet there had been little outward sign of affection from your husband - everything felt like a courtesy, the actions of a well-educated prince, chivalrous out of duty only - and you knew that it might be wishful thinking to believe the slow drag of your husband’s hand up your inner thigh was anything more than slight trepidation. But you swore you could see the anger that burned so bright only moments ago morph into something closer to lust, desire, need.

Aemond’s fingers pressed firm into the plush of your thighs as he parted them and you bit the inside of your cheek to smother your gasp as his sharp gaze finally raked over your bare skin.

For all the wandering eyes, the lustful gazes that burned into your skin as so many lords of the realm crowded into the small room, it struck you in that moment that Aemond waited until you were alone to truly look. He waited until you were pliant beneath him, until you’d sated your own curiosity about him, to allow himself a glance at anything other than your face.

And despite the insistent jeers of the crowd beyond the door, he seemed determined to take you as he wished.

“They are expecting to hear us,” he reminded you as his fingers drew closer to your center. “Do not deprive us all of your charming voice.”

A handful of compliments had been levied at you from your new husband - more in regard to your intelligence than your most beautiful gowns, though one had ended with him calling you beautiful - but you still felt your cheeks heat as his fingers grazed your slit.

The swipe of his fingers was almost clumsy, less self-assured than he always seemed to be, but the thought gave you some comfort. Neither of you could disappoint the other if you were on somewhat equal footing.

Aemond’s touch grew more insistent, more assured, from the moment his fingers grazed the small bundle of nerves that wrenched a gasp from your throat and had your nails pressing into the muscle of his shoulders. He focused there, thumb circling the now aching pearl, as his fingers gathered the increasing slick. The deep lilac of his eye had almost vanished, replaced nearly entirely by lust-blown black, but it remained on your face - watching intently with every noise that spilled from your lips.

As desperately as you wanted to close your eyes, to hide from the intensity in his gaze, you found yourself unable to look away from his face. The sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the barely there flush that set high upon his cheeks; he was beautiful, regal, and you couldn’t help yourself.

“Gevi,” you breathed, hoping the word sounded as effortless falling from your own lips as it did from his. Your thumb brushed his cheek, just beneath his scar, and you could see the flash of an emotion you could not recognize in his eye.

For a moment, he remained silent, fingers slowing to a barely there press, before he tipped his head. Your hand slipped, fell to his jaw, and you realized it was calculated - purposeful - even as his gaze softened. “My clever wife,” he hummed, matter-of-factly, as the corner of his mouth lifted in something akin to a smile. “Full of surprises.”

A response formed on the tip of your tongue, nowhere near as witty as you hoped for, but the press of Aemond’s fingers into your core stole your breath and all coherent thought. The sensation was odd, unlike any you’d ever experienced, and you could feel your brows furrow as your body attempted to make sense of what was happening. It was not as unpleasant as you expected, nor as pleasurable as you hoped for, but you imagined that both would come in time.

Despite his appearance, his brusque manner, Aemond was not harsh. His touch was no longer soft, no longer tentative, and you could still feel the weight of his hands on your thighs despite his touch having moved, but he seemed to take note of the way you winced when his fingers began to press a little too quickly - a little too hard - and adjusted accordingly.

Soon enough, you found a delicate rhythm - an insistent press of his fingers, an exploration unlike any you’d ever felt, as you used the grip on his jaw to pull him into another kiss.

This kiss was different, heavier. It was hungry, a clash of teeth and tongue and noses that made the backs of your eyes sting. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, a bite harsh enough to draw blood, and you inhaled sharply as he lapped at the copper staining your lips. 

The copper tang seemed to spur Aemond on, remind him of his duty and the audience waiting for it to be done. He moved with a renewed vigor, with a confidence you’d quickly come to associate with him. His fingers pressed deeper, searching, and he only seemed content when you broke the kiss to fill the room with a breathless moan of his name. 

Warmth spread over your skin, a combination of his body heat surrounding you and your own pleasure coursing through your veins. Every swipe of his fingers, every circle of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, made the edges of your vision white and the air harder to obtain.

It was then, as your stomach tied itself into knots and your nails sank into the toned skin of his back - his shoulders, his chest, his arms; wherever you could reach, desperate for some tether to reality - that he replaced his fingers with the filling warmth of his cock.

With every noise that fell from your lips, the noise outside the door grew louder. It felt as if the whole of the realm waited just beyond the wood, ears pressed to the door, and Aemond seemed acutely aware of your audience. Gone were the tentative touches, the firm but still careful brushes of his hands. After a few careful initial presses of his hips to yours, he began to sink into you in earnest.

A cry of his name rang through the room, fanning the flames of the fire outside, and your body seemed trapped in the path of the blaze.

Every word of gossip you’d heard from friends seemed true, impossibly, all at once. There was an ache between your thighs, a stinging pain that replaced the pleasant ache of desire, and a dull pinch at your hip as Aemond’s fingers pressed into your skin. The entire room was too hot, almost stifling, and the noise rang in your ears. The tawdry jokes and laughter in the hall, the rustle of linen, the lewd sound of Aemond’s cock pressing into your center, the keening of your moans, the huff of his breath; it was almost too much.

Each sensation that washed over you was distinct but beginning to muddle together.

Despite yourself, your best efforts to take the affection given to you by your husband and appreciate them, you found yourself hoping for something softer, something easier, something better. 

Aemond was lost in that moment, stuck somewhere in the back of his own mind, and you could only whisper his name in hopes that he might allow you a moment to catch your breath.

“Aemond, I - please.” The whispered plea, gasped into the night air and barely audible over the cheers still echoing in the hall, seemed to break his reverie. It returned him to the moment at hand - the pinch of your brows as the ache between your thighs plagued you, the curve of your mouth as you fought to keep your composure, the sting of your nails biting into his shoulder - and gave him pause. 

The snap of his hips faltered, slowed from the near manic thrusts to something more even, and you eased the grip on his shoulder as you inhaled eagerly.

That deep purple gaze swept across your face, searching for something you could not readily provide, before he squeezed your hip in what you chose to interpret as an apology. You accepted it, easily, and offered him a tentative smile as he continued pressing forward - still firm, still deep, only slower now.

Giggles from the past, old whispers that there was real pleasure to be found in bed, began to return to the forefront of your mind as Aemond’s new pace began to replace the pinch and ache between your thighs with that devastating warmth you’d only just experienced. Everything felt too hot, too bright, too much, and the thought must have been clearly written across your face as Aemond hummed.

“Take your pleasure,” he encouraged, voice low in your ear as he leaned in close. “Then, I shall have mine.”

Warmth continued to flood your veins. Fire lapped at your skin, consuming you entirely, and you took no notice of the noise that escaped your parted lips as you allowed Aemond to continue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The end was as beautiful as you’d heard, as blissful, and you could feel yourself melting into the plush of the bed as goosebumps erupted across your skin and your heart thundered in your chest. All that mattered in that moment was Aemond; the weight of him atop you, the warmth of his skin as he pressed himself impossibly closer, the low rasp of his voice as he all but whispered expletives. 

That pleasure was only heightened by the warmth that flooded you as Aemond stilled atop you, a curse on his lips and head thrown back.

It was a beautiful sight - something worthy of committing to memory, something so beautiful you only hoped to see it again and again. And you only hoped your new husband felt the same as he tipped his head to study you once more.

Aemond lingered only for a moment, his gaze softer than you’d seen directed at you, before he pulled away. Another squeeze to your waist was the only affection he spared before he stood and pulled the white line from his bed. He shifted you carefully - almost tenderly - to remove the fabric then strode across the expanse of the room to the door.

Without ceremony, he wrenched it open and tossed the stained fabric into the crowd.

A loud cheer echoed through the halls, drunken revelers delighting in the evidence of your consummation, but was quickly cut off with the slam of the heavy door.

The crowd grew quieter, noise drifting back in the direction of the hall still filled with older revelers - opting to spend their time discussing matters best saved for an in-person meeting - and you took the brief moment to catch your breath as Aemond did the same.

For just a moment, he lingered near the small table that held a pitcher and glasses, before filling them with wine and bringing them to bed. He handed you one, nodded his acknowledgement to your thanks, and settled back onto the plush fabric at your side.

Silence fell over the room then, a welcome but almost overwhelming lack of sound after hours surrounded by a cacophony of noise. For the first time since you woke that morning, you found that you could hear yourself think.

Every thought centered upon your new husband.

Aemond Targaryen was a mystery. Rumors about him swirled through the realm and whispers abounded at court. None seemed to be in agreement, however.

Some thought him to be fierce, a fearsome warrior who would make a fine knight should he find himself so inclined. Others insisted that Vhagar was his only asset and that he was nothing more than a loyal hound devoted to his family. Others still insisted that the only person Aemond could ever be loyal to was himself and his own interests.

There were whispers that he was cold, unfeeling. There were rumors that he had no interest in anything other than books, that living people meant little to him. But you were beginning to see the truth.

Try as he might to hide it, the nature of his soul that he buried so deeply, you were beginning to see him for who he truly was.

Aemond wanted the things he’d never been given. He sought reassurance, comfort, love. He wanted to be wanted - truly wanted, desired; not needed because he possessed the largest, oldest dragon. And though your match began as a political alliance, you hoped to prove that he was worthy of his desires as you shifted closer and reached for his hand.

“Aemond,” you began, voice quiet as you hoped desperately he would not push you away, even as he tensed. To your relief - and surprise - he did not. Instead, he simply glanced at your linked hands before turning his full attention to your face. “Believe what you wish, but I am glad that it is you I married. I do not want Aegon or any of the other lords lingering about the castle. I did not accept this betrothal without thought and I hope that you will believe me when I say there is no other I could want.”

Though it was slight, you could see the raise of his eyebrow. So, with a sigh, you placed your cup onto the table and grasped his hand with both of your own.

“When my father made it known that he intended to offer you my hand, I was given more attention at court than I ever wanted. I never cared much for it all, but suddenly, it seemed as if everyone wanted me to join them.” With a weary sigh, you began to trace nonsensical patterns over the back of his hand. “Everyone had a tale of Prince Aemond they wished to share. Some heard word from a brother or cousin, others whispered tales from their own trips to the Red Keep. I heard so many whispers about you that I began to lose track of who whispered what. I have always held whispers in little regard but it grew so frequent that I nearly worried I might meet a monster.”

The moment you paused, Aemond hummed thoughtfully. “Targaryen’s are said to be closer to gods than men. Perhaps monsters are included.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed, pausing your tracing to glance up at him from beneath your lashes. The deep lilac of his eye met yours and you felt your cheeks heat. “But you are no monster. You are just a man. I was given the chance to reject our union. One word, and I would’ve been spirited away to some lesser lord. But I chose to stay.”

“Why?”

It was a genuine question, accompanied by a look you recognized as being tinged with skepticism. In response, you smiled at him.

“Despite your flaws, real or imagined or embellished, I find myself drawn to you. You have the beauty and fire of your house. You are proud, but not a braggart, quiet but not without charm. You are a noted swordsman and a dragon rider, yet you take no pleasure in tourneys. You are young and capable, intelligent and thoughtful. Of all the qualities one could want in a husband, you possess most."

This earnest admission was met with yet another hum of acknowledgement from your husband, a thoughtful rumination as he allowed the compliment to linger for a moment. Only then, after seeming to savor your words, did he ask, “Which qualities do I lack, wife?”

Had you not grown so accustomed to studying every twitch of his brows, every curve of his mouth, you might’ve missed the hint of a smile he wore. It was a question asked in jest, teasing, and you allowed yourself a laugh.

“Time shall tell,” you assured him, returning his barely-there smile with a soft one of your own. “Though, I would never dare call you perfect, lest your head swell to the size of Vhagar’s.” Aemond allowed you a glimpse of a true smile then, fleeting, but you savored the sight just the same. It brought a strange warmth to your chest, wound the hope that bloomed beneath your ribcage into a tendril that squeezed your heart, and you offered his hand a gentle squeeze. “I understand why we were wed. But I have hope that even if we do not find love in one another, we shall find friendship at the least.”

“You would not ask for more?”

“Men’s battles are fought in fields, at sea, on dragon back,” you answered, carefully turning his hand in yours to trace his palm. “A woman’s battle is fought abed. If I were to die there, my only hope is that it would be for someone I cared for, someone who cared for me.”

That lilac eye studied your face once more, more intently, and you could see the weight of your words settling on his shoulders as he realized that he was no longer alone, nor did you have any misunderstandings as to what this life meant for you both. Though he was the spare, pushed down in the line of succession by his brother’s children, he was expected to have a family and in return for giving him heirs, all you asked of him was companionship.

“I believe you shall be a fierce warrior,” he declared, gaze dipping to your fingers gently sweeping across his heated skin.

“And I believe you are all I could have hoped for in a husband,” you confessed, hoping he might agree - that he might declare you to be all he could’ve hoped for in a wife.

And though he seemed unopposed to you, he instead asked, “Do you believe that truly?”

“I do,” you confirmed, pausing your tracing to meet his eye. “I’ve long been afraid of marriage, of becoming trapped with someone who cared little for me, but I am more afraid that growing to love you will be easier than I ever imagined.”

“Love makes you weak,” he all but whispered, though the words held little conviction and even less weight. They were the words of someone afraid, someone unused to love and affection, and you met them with a gentle smile.

“Perhaps it is a good thing we are married, then. I believe love makes you stronger. My father loved my mother and he fought like hell to return to her each and every battle he waged. Love provides motivation,” you offered, only to be met with another thoughtful hum. Rather than pressing, you shifted the conversation after a moment of silence. “Why did you allow the bedding ceremony?”

Aemond paused for a moment and seemed to consider his answer. “I had every intention of forgoing it,” he confessed, free hand tracing the lip of his glass. “Then, we met and it was selfish, I suppose. I have something most men in King’s Landing will covet - a comely wife from a noble house who has made me the sole object of her affection. Allowing the ceremony provided an opportunity to boast, to show that while they may look, you are mine. No other will know the pleasure of your company.”

The reasoning behind his allowance was understandable, even more so when you considered that he was the second son of a man who scarcely remembered his sons in the first place. It was not often he was given something others desired, not often he could be envied, and you could not begrudge him the opportunity he’d taken.

“I am yours,” you agreed, lifting his hand to place it over your heart. “While I believe love will make us stronger, I would not mind being seen as weak, just so long as you are by my side. Others may whisper or believe what they wish but know, lord husband, that I want you and you alone. I look forward to the future and hope the gods bless us with a long and happy marriage.”

“I shall leave faith to you,” he declared, though the words were softer than you believed he intended. “But I have little doubt that you will be left wanting.” Aemond turned, then, and removed the eyepatch covering his eye. The sapphire glimmered in the dim candlelight and you squeezed his hand to keep yourself from reaching out for him.

“Gevi,” you repeated, smiling upon the full face of your new husband.

Aemond’s mouth curved once more, a touch more noticeable, before he sighed and shifted to lie amongst the pillows. “Sleep, dear wife,” he encouraged, pulling you into the pillows at his side.

With the morning sun, your new life would begin. As tentative as you’d once been, you no longer felt any fear. There was far to travel, much to be gained in the way of your new husband’s trust, but you imagined he was right; neither of you would be left wanting, so long as you had the other.

_________________________________________________

Author's Note: It's my first time writing for Aemond (or anything GoT/HotD related) so I hope it's alright. I didn't want to go too soft but I also didn't want to go too mean/cold? I dunno. Let me know what you think! :)

[noellawrites]

Wolves - dark!Bridgerton Brothers x sister!reader

summary: your three older brothers make sure you are prepared to please your husband on your wedding night. but really, they’re more interested in you pleasing them. reader is 18+

warnings: incest, noncon, corruption, ruined innocence, coercion, virginity loss & sexual abuse

It had been three years since your departure, but it truly felt like much less. And although you loved your family, you were reluctant to return.

You had spent the last three years traveling around Europe with your Aunt Billie and her husband, and you did not wish for the adventures to be over so soon.

However, your mother’s most recent letter was quite clear: you would return home for this year’s social season. It was to be your society debut.

As your coach rattles down the cobblestone road to Bridgerton House, your stomach rattles along with it.

Lifting the carriage window’s small curtain, you peek out onto the street and immediately laid your eyes upon seven of your eight siblings, along with your mother. Oh, you were excited to see your mother most of all!

It surprised you, but she was actually the one who defended your choice to travel against your brother, Anthony. He believed that at your age, you were much too young to embark into the real world.

He had a point, but your mother knew how independent and spirited you were, and Billie’s husband had just recently picked up a job traveling for his company. Anthony eventually gave in, and you had left.

This would be your first time home in three years. However, while you were in Greece, you were fortunate enough to meet up with Colin, one of your older brothers.

“We are here,” the carriage rider calls, landing a smack on the roof above you. All of a sudden, you hear shrieking noises and the tugging of the carriage’s latch.

“Oh for god’s sake, let her exit the carriage first!” your mother laughs on the other side.

You reach forward and push the door open, immediately swarmed by your youngest two siblings.

You laugh, embracing Gregory and Hyacinth before moving on to give everyone else a hug, too.

“It is so lovely to have my other half again,” your twin sister Eloise sighs, giving you a hug and then bumping your hip with hers.

As it was to be both yours and Eloise’s debut season, you had been exchanging nonstop correspondence. Eloise was reluctant to come out in society and find a husband, but you had to admit you were very excited.

In letters you received from your mother, she had mentioned wanting to introduce you to several eligible bachelors who have expressed interest in you, the worldly young Bridgerton returning from overseas travel.

Your stomach flutters at the possibility of several handsome men working to impress you.

“Let us all come inside and you can catch up with your siblings while we look at sample fabrics for your debut gown,” your mother says to you with a smile, then turns to wrangle all of your siblings inside.

“Do you have your gown already, Eloise?” you ask your twin as you walk inside together.

“Unfortunately yes,” she rolls her eyes. You reach out and interlock your pinkies together, your shared symbol of solidarity.

“Mother truly wastes no time,” you laugh, “I shall see yours, perhaps we may coordinate?”

Your family flows into the drawing room, where plates of hors d’oeuvres are being brought out by the staff.

“We have to wear those frilly monstrosities on our heads this year,” Eloise huffs.

What Eloise lacked in enthusiasm for marriage, you made up for. It was no secret that you were excited and hopeful about finding a love match.

“So we must wear a white gown as well?” you ask, prompting your mother to laugh.

“Oh, yes. All the better to allow your future husband to envision you on your wedding day,” she smiles, laying a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“But only after he meets our approval,” Benedict points out with a smirk, tilting his chalice towards you.

“You three musn’t be too harsh on the poor men,” you laugh, “at least give them chance.”

“A chance? No, not with our sweet little sisters,” Anthony shakes his head.

Your mother laughs, swatting your oldest brother on the shoulder.

“Alright dear, let me show you Eloise’s dress. We must bring your measurements to the modiste to ensure your dress is ready in time,” your mother says, escorting you down the hall.

-

“I look stupid!” your twin sister grumbles, turning as you lace up the back of her dress.

“No you don’t, Eloise! But these… headpieces are a little much,” you grimace, reaching a hand up to adjust your crooked headpiece in the mirror.

“Everyone is going to laugh,” Eloise sighs, sucking in a breath as you lace the dress tighter.

“Hm… well, Gregory and Hyacinth, maybe. Oh! And definitely Colin and Benedict,” you reply.

“That’s most of them! Daphne isn’t even here to defend us.”

“Mother will. And Anthony, he knows how important this is,” Eloise gives you a sharp look in the mirror, “… well, at least to me,” you finish.

“Let’s get this over with,” Eloise says, turning to lace up your dress.

All of a sudden, you hear a knock at the door.

“Are you ladies almost finished?”

“Yes, Eloise is just lacing up my dress and we’ll be right down, Colin,” you say, before Eloise yanks your lacings and pulls the white dress tighter.

-

Your debut in front of the queen was quite eventful, and you could hardly believe you’d been named diamond of the season. It still hadn’t set in, along with the first Lady Whistledown edition that would appear tomorrow and undoubtedly feature you.

The debut was followed by the ball, where you had your dance card completely filled by twelve different bachelors (and once dance saved for each of your three older brothers, of course.)

By the end of the night, your feet ached and you were itching to climb into your nightgown and your comfy bed. Your chambermaid was pulling pins from your carefully styled hair when one knock came sounded against your door.

Your chambermaid opens the door, and the maid who knocked at the door quietly talks to her.

“Miss, you have been requested in your brother’s study,” your chambermaid explains, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Like this? But it’s almost my bedtime,” you frown, reaching a hand up to touch your half-pinned hair.

“Yes, miss. We can fix your hair if you would like?” your own maid offers.

“N-no, I’m sure it’s nothing,” you stammer.

As the other maid walks you to the door of Anthony’s study, you look down at your trembling hands.

What if the queen changed her mind? What if you weren’t the real diamond of the season? Or what if, god forbid, you had already received a marriage proposal? It was much too early, you still hadn’t even met all of this season’s eligible gentlemen.

“Your sister is—“

“Let her in.”

You enter the room, seeing Anthony leaned over his massive wooden desk, Colin looking nervous with a glass in his hand, and Benedict smirking, perched on the couch with a whole bottle of spirits in his hand.

“Wh-what is the matter?” You ask, looking around.

It was only your three older brothers, no one else in sight. They were all still clothed in their suits from the party, and you suddenly felt very underdressed.

“Take a seat, dearest sister,” Benedict says, still smirking, beckoning you over to where he sat on the settee.

You glance at Anthony, wearing a stressed expression on his face.

“We have… some concerns,” Colin blurts out, staring into his crystal glass.

“As you are now the diamond, such as was Daphne, you are at a high risk of becoming…” Anthony trails off.

“Compromised?” Benedict offers.

“Yes. Compromised. We want to inform you of how to keep yourself safe until we approve of a husband for you,” Anthony finishes.

“One of your own selection, of course,” Colin adds.

“Wh-what should I do?” you ask nervously, sitting down next to Benedict.

“It is easier if we show you, little bug,” Benedict offers, reaching an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest.

“Men are wolves, vicious creatures, do not forget that,” Anthony says, tilting his glass towards you.

You nod obediently, instinctively cuddling closer to your second oldest brother as you let out a yawn.

“Are you tired, bug?” he smiles, tucking a piece of your once-pinned hair behind your ear.

You nod, closing your eyes for a brief moment. You open them again when Anthony sits down beside you on the couch, sandwiching you between your two oldest brothers.

“Come here,” Anthony orders, pulling you by your hips onto his lap.

“Anthony!” you squeal.

“The first step is to ensure you are never alone with any man, unsupervised. They will lure you into vulnerable positions such as this,” Anthony explains.

“But… I always used to sit on your lap,” you frown, furrowing your brows.

“Yes, but it will be different with someone who is not your brother. Give me your hand. Do you feel this?” he asks, moving your hand between your legs and his, resting on a mound inside his pants.

“O-oh! Yes—“ you say, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“This happens to a man when he becomes aroused, and they will expect you to take care of it. Do you understand?” Anthony asks sternly.

“I’m sorry Anthony, but I don’t think I do,” you frown.

“How much has our mother told you about… intimacy and childbearing?” Colin asks, adjusting himself in his chair as he looks away uncomfortably.

“N-nothing, she told me she would explain it all before my wedding night,” you explain.

“Tsk, tsk. She said the same to Daphne, and the Duke lured her into a compromising position,” Benedict chides.

“I don’t want that to happen to me,” you freeze, eyes going wide.

You didn’t even think about how you were in a compromising position right now, older brothers situated around you in various stages of arousal.

“Then follow our lead, hm?” Benedict says, stroking your arm softly. You smile at him softly and nod, and Anthony’s grip on you tightens.

“Have you ever seen a male’s private area before?” Anthony asks, voice low in your ear.

“No, of course not!” you gasp. Although you had many brothers, you each had your own private chambers and maids to attend to you.

“Colin?” Anthony directs, and your brother closest in age to you, whom you grew up playing and having innocent fun with, stands in front of you with a hand on his waistband.

“A-Anthony, are you sure—“

“Colin,” Anthony says sternly.

You keep your eyes fixed forward, watching as Colin lets his undergarments drop to the floor.

“This is Colin’s private area. He’s quite thick, as you can see, and he brings much pleasure to the women he pursues,” Anthony explains, and Colin holds up his cock and steps forward so you can see it closer.

“And you each… have one?” you ask, voice quivering.

“Yes, of course. This is how babies are made, hm? This goes right into your own private area,” Anthony explains. Your body seizes up as his hand moves beneath the fabric of your underclothes and up your thigh, only stopping once his finger meets your small, slick entrance.

“O-ooh!” you gasp, clenching your cunt unwillingly, causing Anthony’s grip to tighten around your waist.

“One of those is… supposed to fit in me? Right there?” you sniffle, fear setting in.

“Yes, what a smart girl,” Benedict smiles, leaning over and cupping your face, “would you like to see mine?”

He had asked so nicely. You smile softly and nod, pink blush rising up your cheeks. Benedict pushes his bottoms down, and you watch as his cock bounces up and hits his stomach, leaving a small smear of white.

“The white cream is what goes inside of you to make the baby,” Anthony explains, now stroking your hair.

“The more aroused we are, the harder we get,” Colin says, clearing his throat. Benedict is much harder than Colin, but Colin starts to touch himself and you watch his cock harden.

Anthony beckons to Colin, who steps forward until your face is pretty much level with his cock.

“Go on, baby. Lick it like a lolly,” Anthony encourages. His finger prods at your entrance, trying to see how tight you really are.

“Would you like to touch mine as well?” Benedict asks, scooting closer on the settee.

“I don’t know if I should…” you squeak, until you feel Anthony pinch your pussy lip.

“Don’t be rude, little one. Show your brothers how thankful you are for the lesson.”

“I-I am thankful,” you nod, reaching a hand out for Benedict as you place your lips on Colin.

“F-fuck—“ Colin groans, eyes rolling back and mouth dropping open in immense pleasure.

“Mmhm, good job, bug,” Benedict sighs.

Beneath you, Anthony is shimmying his pants down. Once they are discarded on the floor, you can feel the heat emanating from his private area.

“I’m going to show you how your husband will breech you on your wedding night, little one,” Anthony explains, stroking your arm softly.

“Anthony, n-no! I thought— isn’t that for my future husband?” you squeak.

He laughs, “I am your brother, I do not count.”

“Anthony, you said we could flip a coin for her virginity,” Benedict hisses.

“I am the eldest brother, Ben. You are welcome to Eloise,” he says with a laugh.

“Come on, Anthony,” Benedict groans, leaning back.

“If it doesn’t count, then I can take you next?” you offer politely, ever the one for manners as you had grown up being taught them through your entire life.

You catch a twinkle in Ben’s eye, “maybe another time, angel.”

“This is going to hurt, little one. Just for a moment,” Anthony warns. He sweeps your hair to one side and begins kissing your neck and shoulder, causing you to moan on Colin’s cock.

“Chrissake—“ Colin groans, bucking his hips and sinking deeper into your mouth.

While you touch Benedict and suck on Colin, Anthony lines up his cock to your slick, small entrance and pushes his tip inside you.

“Oooooh-oh-ohhh!” you gasp, pain rippling through you as you lean forward, feeling like you’re being ripped in half.

“Shhh, little one, it will feel good in a moment,” Benedict laughs.

You try to focus on sucking the few inches of Colin’s cock that you could take in your mouth. Meanwhile, Benedict watches Anthony’s pleasure-filled face as he finally enters his little sister for the first time.

“A-Anthony, it hurts!” you gasp, dropping Colin’s cock from between your lips to cry out in pain.

“Tightest cunt I’ve ever been inside of,” Anthony hisses, rocking his hips against you.

“Let us have our turns inside of her, Anthony. Before you wear her out,” Colin pleads, cupping your face as you try to hold back tears.

“Oh alright,” Anthony sighs. He lifts you off of his lap, and you feel his cock plop out from your folds. You look down and watch as a string of blood connects you two.

“Now for Benedict,” Anthony smirks, laying you down across the settee and standing up, cock in hand.

“You are so delicious,” Benedict coos, leaning over you, “and I cannot wait to devour you.”

Benedict kisses you hard, your head swimming as you try to grasp onto his shoulders.

“B-Benny,” you whimper between kisses, feeling his cock rubbing between your folds. You look over and see your two other brothers standing over you, touching themselves.

“Wish I could have you every day,” he moans, snaking a hand up your nightgown. You tense up as you feel him pinch one of your nipples.

“Ben, I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say, looking up at your two other brothers with tears in your eyes.

At first, it had felt like a true lesson. But now, you felt violated, used, and confused by your own older brothers who were supposed to protect you.

Anthony laughs from above you, “already? Poor Colin hasn’t even had his turn yet.”

“Please stop,” you beg.

“I’ll give you what you truly want, little bug. All women want is to feel a real man inside of them, especially ones of their own blood,” Benedict says, and you feel his tip nudging its way inside your opening. Another brother violating you.

“I can’t wait very long,” Colin mumbles, and you notice his cock is red, hard and throbbing.

“Alright, brother,” Benedict snaps, “at least let me feel her first.”

Your eyes go wide as Benedict clamps a hand over your mouth, preparing you as he pushes his entire cock inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Anthony, you were right,” Ben groans.

“Always am,” he smirks, looking down at you with his hungry wolf eyes.

You didn’t know anything at all about sex, at least until tonight, but you knew this wasn’t what you wanted as Ben stretched your hole to fit his cock inside.

And, like a good older brother, Anthony could practically read your mind.

“This is the true duty of a woman, of a wife. Your job is to produce children and raise them, but above all, it is to keep your husband pleased. It does not matter what you want,” Anthony explains.

“You will receive pleasure from their happiness,” Colin adds.

“And ours,” Benedict huffs, his cock still pumping inside you.

Your head falls back onto the settee as you let yourself surrender to the feeling.

[hopesworlld]

౨ৎ the first temptation ( one )

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — one kiss is all it takes to set alight a fire that could scorch even the strongest of dragon riders.

౨ৎ stream a little death by the neighbourhood !

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — kissing, targcest, dry humping, grinding, corruption kink?

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prince jacaerys had always prided himself for many things. his skills with a sword, his loyalty to his mother, his determination. and yet there was one thing that always seemed to shatter through every vow he had ever made.

princess daenys, his only sister, and sweetest light of the targaryen dynasty. she was sunshine souled, completely and utterly targaryen in every way, with her long silvery curls that fell past her waist, her lilac eyes, and her pale moonwashed skin. she was proclaimed by all as the realms' gift. a present from the god’s who treated the small folk with a light and love that left everyone infatuated beneath her kind touch and silver words.

but she penetrated jace’s every thought, he found himself longing for the feel of her lips, of her hands upon his body, running along the lines of his chest, threading along the base of his neck and tugging at his dark curls.

they had shared many secret kisses, the first beneath a falling sun, the sky stained orange and gold on daenys’ name day. she had just turned four and ten, while jace was just passed six and ten, dae had captured him upon the bay at the front of the castle. pretty pink lips stained crimson and eyes blurry, she had pulled him in and placed a delicate kiss to his lips before giggling like a child.

“i wanted you to be my first,” the girl confessed with a giddy smile, sinking into his arms, allowing the young prince to sweep her from her feet and deposit her to her chambers.

“you should not drink so much, sweet sister,” jace scolded lightly, tucking the girl beneath her sheets but daenys only smiled teasingly, running her tongue along her bottom lip.

“i would drink gallons of wine if it meant i could kiss you again,” she sang and jace could only smile fondly, pressing a kiss for a forehead before leaving the room and allowing his sister to sleep off the wine.

their second kiss had been much sweeter, unsullied by the taste of grapes, instead the two had been training, jace’s arm slung around daeny’s throat, holding her tightly until she gasped for air and tapped his arm three times.

“you cannot best me,” jacaerys boosted proudly, but his eyes were drawn to his sister's parted lips, heavy breaths falling from them as she clutched at her chest. fingers running across the creamy skin of her breasts as she tried to suck the air back into her lungs.

“fine,” dae sighed in disappointment, “i will not break our deal, i promised you something if you were to best me, brother. what is it you desire?” the words were innocent, a simple play on the deal that they had made, if jace were to win daenys would have to do whatever he requested. she thought he would have her steal one of daemon’s daggers, or run naked along the beach, but instead jace drew her in, so close that she could see the flickers of gold in his deep brown eyes.

“you,” jace said slowly, eyes falling back to the girl's lips, “i desire a kiss from you princess, will you grant that?” he asked, watching as dae sucked in a deep breath before reaching up, cupping jace’s cheek and leaning in, pressing her pretty lips to his.

it was hardly a kiss, a delicate brush of skin on skin before she was pulling back. but jace slung his arms around her hips, drawing her in and kissing her again. kissing her like the sky was falling and she was his solace. daenys gasped against him, fingers slipping to his shoulders, clinging to him as she tried to match his pace.

“brother,” she whispered sheepishly, “is this really what you desire?” she asked him, lips still on his.

“it is all i desire,” jace answered. they kissed until their lips were dry and raw, and the air in their lungs could hardly stand to be deprived much longer.

their last was a tryst of passion, a heated argument, cruel words had been hissed, things thrown and then suddenly they were kissing. daenys’ body pressed against the wall of jacaerys’ chamber, hands tugging harshly at his silky curls, while jace held a bruising grip on the princesses hips.

“you are such a brat sometimes,” jace groaned, slipping his tongue along the seam of daenys’ lips, she parted her lips, shuddering slightly in his hold. he kissed like a man starved, desperate for the taste of her lips, of her tongue.

“you are a fool,” daenys replied, pressing her flush against him.

“a fool?” jace asked, pulling back and trailing kisses down the side of dae’s neck, suckling lightly on her pulse point and making her wine, “a fool for letting you give into your selfish desires, princess,” he said, slowly slipping one of his hands from her hips and instead trailing them over her clothes breasts, daenys gasped, bucking her hips against jace.

“you want this as much as i,” she argued, dragging jace back to her lips, kissing him hotly.

“what i want from you, sweet sister, i cannot have,” jace said, drawing back and looking at her with large blown pupils, “i will not disgrace you in the name of desire,”

“you wish too…” daenys trailed off. the life of a princess was a shielded one, but even now, with her mother sitting upon the iron throne, daenys knew that her greatest asset was her maidenhood. without it she would be disgraced, unwanted by any man who saw himself better, even if he had lost his own long ago. but she longed for jace, longed for him in ways she couldn’t even find the words to describe. a sort of primal urge within her body that called for him.

“dae,” jace whispered, suddenly softer, cupping the girl's cheeks and bringing her gaze to his.

“kiss me,” daenys pleaded, “kiss me until i am sick of it,” she pulled jace back in and he fell against her willingly, “i cannot bare the thought of you not,”

“spoiled girl,” jace said, running his thumb along her swollen lips, “do you even know what it is you ask of me? what you make me feel?” he questioned, pinching her bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

“i think i do, for you make me feel things, things i have never felt before,” dae confessed, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. “i wish for you to touch me, to stop the ache between my legs that only blooms when your lips are on mine,” her words drew a sharp groan from jace’s lips, head falling back and revealing his slender throat.

“fuck,” he hissed, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” daenys had never head such profanities fall from his mouth, but then he was wrenching her from the wall and tugging her to his bed, pushing the princess down before descending atop of her. he slipped between her thighs with a poise of elegance, pressing his leg upon daenys’ aching core and pressing until the princess gasped. dressed only in her nightgown she could feel the toned muscles of her brother's thigh pressed to her weeping cunt.

“jace!” the girl cried out, head falling back as jace began to rut against her, it was sloppy, weak thrusts as he ground his cock against the girl's pelvis. aching for relief but trapped beneath a layer of fabric.

“i’ll give you what you wish for, sweet girl,” jace said, tugging down her nightgown and revealing the supple skin of her breasts to the cold air. daenyrs’ whined when the prince grasped her tits in his large hands and squeezed, rolling her nipples between his fingers as her hips rose frantically to meet the stimulation of his leg against her. “it is not deflowering you if i do not enter you,” he reasoned, though he seemed to be telling himself that as he brought his lips back to hers.

the kiss was messy, all teeth and tongue, spit staining their chins as they gasped and moaned, lost in the feeling of the other's body against theirs, chasing the relief that was coming.

“jace… i feel,” daenys let out a loud moan as jace began to press himself harder upon the girl, his cock throbbing as he felt himself drawing in.

“it’s okay, sweet girl, let go for me,” jace prompted, sweat slicked forehead pressing atop her own as dae let out a strangled moan, coming for the first time all over the princess clothed thigh. jace was not far behind her, rutting against her hip a few more times before he himself spilled in his trousers with a heavy gasp.

“that was…” daenys struggled to say was jace rolled and lay beside her. “can we do it again sometime?” she asked sweetly and jacaerys laughed loudly, drawing her in for another kiss.

“there are many things we can do, sweet sister,” he promised, already feeling his cock swelling in his breaches.

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౨ৎ hope talks — this was so boring tbh, dw the next chapters will get far more exciting i just wanted to show how it all began 🤭

[captain-joongz]

The moon hangs heavy; Dragonheart ch.2

Pairing: OT7 dragon!BTS x knightess!reader

Genre: dragon rider AU, high fantasy, soulmate adjacent, slight enemies to lovers (if you squint), angst, fluff and humour, eventual smut

Chapter summary: The depth of mistrust between dragons and humans is tried when Jungkook attempts to welcome a new addition to his life. Meanwhile his rider fights her own demons in her own home.

Word count: cca 13.8k

Warnings: there's pov switches beware!! first person is reader pov, third person is bangtan pov!!, a bit of toxic family, slight angst, otherwise not much

Series masterlist | Previous Part | Next part

Lore | Dictionary | Character studies

A/N: alrighty folks! here we go, the next chapter of dragonheart is here! things are picking up and now we'll spend a lot more time with all of the dragons! i always love to hear what you think, so don't hesitate to let me know! i hope you enjoy yourselves <3

I couldn’t even remember when I first started putting together the plan to dismantle this empire brick by fucking brick, but I’ve carried hatred against it for as long as I knew what an empire was. Maybe it was my father’s fault, maybe I saw his ways and I wanted to go against that, maybe it was because ever since I was small he dragged me with him between all these dinners and balls and banquets, and I saw all that depravity, all that mold, the rotten heart of the beast.

Wars, suffering, endless toil and loss, and for what? For spoiled nobility and cruel kings? For an empire that saw its people as endless supplies of weapons in battles that they didn’t want and that brought back nothing? The Li Dynasty in its thousand years of reign only brought terror onto the land, into the hearts of its people, and onto anyone who ever dared to go against it.

Once upon a time, this was nothing more than a small struggling kingdom, Wuyun nothing more than a little town with barely a fortress, and now it spanned across half the continent. It devoured everything around it and squeezed it dry, pulled it into its machine of death. War after a war, battle after a battle, until there was nothing left to conquer, but still wanting for more.

Around us kingdoms rose and fell, and the only reason Gong-li didn’t also hit its expiration date was the endless exploitation of the dragonkind. If the emperor didn’t have them to fall back onto, if dragons weren’t too dangerous to fight against and other still surviving lands weren’t too afraid to invite war with such beasts against them, this dynasty would have died a long time ago.

But with such powerful dangerous weapons (it does pain me to say that, but unfortunately that is what dragons have become) in the hands of children (because that’s what we were in their eyes), we still sat at the top of the food chain and became practically impossible to dismount.

Hubris was a terrible thing. And it would always lead to a downfall. I vowed myself to be that downfall.

Tightening my training attire one more time and giving myself last look in the silver mirror, I gave myself a firm nod and left to join the family at breakfast.

As soon as I entered the dining area, my father gave me a curt smile and gestured to the seat to his left side. My brother was sitting to his right, silently eating and reading through a stack of documents. Unlike the older male, he barely even acknowledged my presence and continued on expressionlessly in his task.

I tensely returned the smile and folded myself to the dark comfortable pillow, immediately hungrily digging in. The General lightly patted me on my shoulder, his good mood reflected in the way he happily ate his food and interacted with us calmly, which made me fight the scowl off my face to not accidentally aggravate him.

Ever since I returned from the banquet, I’d been in my father’s good graces. Somehow word has already travelled to him that I had been around the Bangtan thunder and I returned to a suspiciously pleased father sitting in the drawing room area waiting for me with praises. He’s been more open to me since, now that he had a chance to peacock about my accomplishments again, and it was putting me on edge. I was more used to being on his wrong side, and through the years I learnt that it was safer to skirt the grey area, as he tended to be more infuriated when we disappointed him after we’d “been so good”.

“You’ll come to the castle with me tomorrow,” the man simply stated, in a manner that revealed he was used to being obeyed. It took me a moment of silence to realise he was speaking to me and not my brother, and I looked up surprised, meeting his dark eyes.

“Yes, father,” slipped the automatic answer through my lips, “Why am I needed?” I needed to ride this good wave for as long as it was possible, so I’d also been playing it safe with him and was being more agreeable than usual. If he thought it suspicious, he said nothing about it.

“You will meet the emperor. He’s curious about Bangtan’s new rider.” The older man satisfiedly licked his lips, like a lazy spoiled cat getting cream, while I froze in my seat with a spoon halfway to my lips. Dread like no other gripped me, spreading through my body in cold currents and turning my stomach to lead. I almost felt a little dizzy with the impact of the statement.

“Yes, father,” this time it came out only a shaky whisper, but the man didn’t care, didn’t look my way again, only nodded and left us siblings sitting there.

When I finally managed to tear my gaze away from the spot our father occupied just a moment ago, I looked straight into my brother’s blank eyes. He regarded me wordlessly for a few long seconds and then stood up as well, food left unfinished on his plate.

“Don’t do anything stupid, please,” he muttered and walked away.

I looked after him almost mournfully, but in the end forced myself to get back to my own breakfast. A lump in my throat made it somewhat harder to swallow, but I did my best to push those feelings away and not dwell on how my brother’s dismissal was always a bigger gut punch than our father’s.

I didn’t remember the older man as ever being gentle, but the memories from my childhood, before we were both ruined by the General, plagued me every time I was faced with this new cold version of the once happy boy. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. How far into our hearts did our ruin reach?

When finished, I quickly moved through the house to collect all needed belongings and got on my way to the training grounds.  The nervous shake in my hands started up again, and in panic I tried to go over some strategies in my head over how I wanted the noon to go. Chances were it wasn’t going to go according to any of them, but it didn’t hurt to try.

Jungkook was already waiting by the training area, leaning into the wooden pole fencing off the sandy duel ring where one on one sword training usually took place. Coming closer, I had to temp down some evident excitement suddenly coursing through my veins, and I internally scolded myself. Now wasn’t the time to lose it, I had to keep it together.

Just as I was about to shout my greeting, I realised there was actually another person with him. His dark blue hair shined under the sun, and the silvery scales on his beautiful face made the light reflect in a way that almost seemed to be too stunning to be real. By the blush that immediately arrived on my face and made me stutter in the light jog, I knew I was once again in the company of the one and only Jimin.

But out of the corner of my eye I saw another presence.

Jungkook already spotted me and waved me over. There were some awkward greetings and smiles before uncomfortable silence stretched around us. Jimin was watching me with a spark of amused curiosity, but I saw a shadow of something darker in his gaze. Something mistrustful and wary. Which, dragons had every right to be apprehensive at first, but something about him put me on edge, like it was about more than just the usual gap between our kinds.

The third person finally joined us, jogging happily to us with a wide smile stretching across his face. I saw both of the dragons’ faces immediately relax and soften, and I realised it must be another member of their thunder.

With a wildly beating heart and clammy palms I fully took him in, still feeling a little star-struck in the presence of such a powerful pack. His hair was wavy, falling into his eyes and around his ears in artful arches, the sun reflecting powerfully off of the copper reddish colour of the locks. I noticed some beads weaved into them as they bounced with his movement. But the most prominent feature were the beautiful horns sprouting from his hairline – they were curved back slightly, following the shape of his head, and antler-like. They were as long as the top of his head, cutting off above the crown of it. I tried not to gawk at them too obviously, but they were beautiful, so I probably failed miserably. Not that he seemed to mind.

His lithe form was brimming with energy and the man seemed to have a joyous personality, face shining with a smile and eyes full of mirth. I understood immediately why just looking at him set the boys more at ease, even I felt myself getting more comfortable and loose under the rays of his happiness.

“Hobi-hyung!” Jungkook shouted out, nearly vibrating and full of toothy grins. Based on his reaction (to which I didn’t secretly smile at all, I was cold as stone definitely) it was probable that the older dragon decided to drop in unannounced.

“Hello younglins,” the man greeted us with, extending the expression to me as well, which… fair. His smiley face turned to me, eyes scanning me head to toe with a calculating gaze, a sliver of seriousness surfacing through.

“My name is Hoseok. Nice to meet you, potential rider,” he introduced himself in the end. Whatever he saw when looking at me, I nervously hoped it wouldn’t make him get Jungkook to reject the bond.

With anxious eyes flitting around, I bowed to him which he reciprocated and then shook his offered hand, both of ours gloves firmly on. Jungkook and Jimin were both watching us with sharp eyes and bated breath, Jungkook hopeful and Jimin with that strange darkness I couldn’t fully place.

“Nice to meet you too, Sir Hoseok,” my voice wavered slightly, but I hoped they’d disregard it as usual nervousness when people met them, and wouldn’t read too much into it. That they wouldn’t find out just how desperate I was for this to work out.

“No sir here, young mistress, dragons don’t get titles,” he said it teasingly, but a little bitterness still wormed its way into his voice. I swallowed, finally taking my hand back after realising I’d been shaking it for a suspiciously long time and gave him my own wonky smile.

“I will call you Hoseok-ssi then,” I insisted, carefully toeing the line between polite and smarmy, “My name is Kang Y/N, of the northern clan.” I saw clearly how Hoseok tried and failed to keep his face neutral, how his smile froze and his eyebrows pulled together in a frown the moment he realised what family I belonged to. I tried not to let it hurt me. Tried not to panic that this was the end for me, and he’d never allow me near his thunder again.

“Neither of you rascals mentioned she is General Kang’s daughter,” he gritted through his teeth and stiff grin, eyes shooting daggers towards the two younger dragons. Both of them watched him with wide eyes, guilty and innocent all at once, trying to buy themselves some leeway.

I had no idea whether they didn’t mention on purpose or whether they forgot, but I had to quickly get on top of this.

“You know my father, huh?” I chuckled awkwardly, jumping in panicked before anything else could be said, “He does have quite the reputation.”

When Hoseok turned his gaze back to me, it was a lot less warm even though he was still grinning at me. I felt the shiver run through me at the change, my instincts suddenly kicking in now that he looked significantly less friendly.

“I fear there isn’t a single person in this city, maybe even in this empire, who doesn’t know your father,” came his stilted reply. And it made sense really, all of the dragons must have known my father for all his life. They’ve probably had to deal with him ever since he himself entered the Academy some 30 years ago. Yikes.

What does one say in a situation like this? Sorry about that? I would have killed him years ago if I didn’t need him alive still?

Another bout of extremely awkward silence blanketed over us, and with every second stretching I felt the dread pull me deeper and deeper into the mud, mind racing and trying to come up with a way to save this. My chest hurt from how fast my heart beat and I felt the panic licking at the seams of my mind, but in the end the atmosphere was saved by Jungkook himself.

“Don’t be too scared, hyung just has a personal vendetta against him,” the young dragon suddenly blurted out, immediately flushing as Jimin barely covered how he burst out laughing. Hoseok also froze and in wonder I saw some of the coldness melt away into embarrassment, the man rubbing at his neck awkwardly.

“You shouldn’t be saying things like that in front of her,” he whined lightly, and it was both a tease and a warning, but finally I shook myself out of my stupor and laughed as well.

“Don’t worry about it, as his daughter I’m more than used to people having grudges against him,” I said amicably, playing it as cool as I could with my hands shaking and tongue stuttering me up, “as I said – he has quite the reputation.”

Hoseok laughed politely, but his gaze was stuck on Jungkook, promising some kind of a dressing down later when they’re alone, which the young dragon steadily ignored with an easy smile, but in a way that made me queasy. It was foolish of me to forget the weight of tossing my surname around like that.

And I knew that tomorrow I’d meet the emperor and he’d give me his blessing, and then the thunder would have to accept me as Jungkook’s rider whether they wanted to or not. And I wouldn’t blame them for hating me.

“Hyung’s just stopping by,” Jungkook stated to me, turning from the red-head’s burning stare, “He had some of his own errands to run. He works with the infirmary.” It felt both like a weak attempt to ease my nerves and a careful nudge in the direction of the dragon’s abilities, as it was considered rude to ask.

He was a healer then, a nature magick gifted dragon. I took him in once more, ignoring the way he was now more wary of me and concluded that it fit him very well. In those brief few moments he didn’t yet know me he seemed to be the kind of person to heal you just by their presence, and stupidly I felt a pang of sadness at having lost that, no matter how fake of an attempt to be friendly it was.

Instead I turned to the tattooed dragon and smiled, falling down the polite small-talk rabbit hole for a few more sentences before Jimin took a seat at the top of the wooden fence and Hoseok eventually jogged a few steps away to lean against a stone archway of the building nearby to feel the relief of the shadow.

I was stuck in the blaring sun with Jungkook, already feeling the uncomfortable heat and sweat gathering under my black training clothes. It was hard to gauge what was Jungkook’s tolerance, but he seemed fine with a pep in his step and an easy grin on his face. I would almost call him excited.

He led us inside the ring, but no swords were in sight, leaving me to wonder what he had in mind. We stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Jungkook looked increasingly more and more amused, watching me struggle in the silence and unsure of what was in store for me, and admittedly I did want to smack him a little for it, but I swallowed the urge down with a little crooked grin.

Then suddenly the dragon flew into action. My first instinct was to bring my arms up in defence, expecting him to try and land a blow. Meetings like these usually consisted of some more fighting and duels to allow the dragons to check the strength and abilities of their potential bondeds, but Jungkook didn’t do any of that sort. He started warming up with jumping jacks.

A little confused, I caught onto the agenda and started imitating him, casting unsure glances towards the two packmates that were watching us jump in the middle of a sandy ring, but their expressions gave me nothing. The pack probably must have gone through this specific thing millions of times and have since settled into a routine.

“Do you know what my magick is?” he asked suddenly, mischief dripping off of him like this was a cheeky first date and not a military affair. I shook my head, but as the silence stretched and his eyes watched me expectantly, he was clearly waiting for some sort of verbal explanation.

“I only knew of Jimin-ssi’s powers,” even through clearing my throat my voice still came out scratchy and unsure, gaze nervously flitting to the mentioned dragon to catch whether he was upset or not. Jimin still gave me nothing, silvery blue eyes just as stormy and closed off as before.

I reasoned with myself that he was less flirty and playful because this was a serious matter, but he still unnerved me, and I faced similar looking rejection way too many times to not immediately recognise the beginning stages of it. He displayed mistrust beyond the usual reasons, and I had no idea why.

“I-I know you have a fire dragon in your thunder. And an atmokinetic,” the stutter came from me scrambling to keep up with Jungkook when he dropped to the ground and seamlessly transitioned into a squatting without any warning, but it was no less embarrassing. He hummed. Jimin and Hoseok looked on. I sweated. It was a mess.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly public knowledge what most of their powers were. Since the curse was first laid, dragons have learnt to be quite secretive when it came to the full extent of their special abilities and tended to choke the information so that only what they wanted was known. As such, I was only sure of three of their abilities – Namjoon’s fiery magick that often came into the public eye during battles, Jimin’s water magick that he was known for due to the worrying line of admirals who liked to bond him temporarily to gain upper hand in naval skirmishes and Yoongi’s darker and scarier powers that allowed him to bring rains and storms and pull black clouds and strong winds to us that made all our days just the more wearier.

There were rumours of course – whispers about a dangerous dragon capable of mind control and manipulation, or tales about one who shone as bright as a dying star, as the sun itself, who commanded light in a way that both warmed and hurt. But those were just that, rumours. I had no names to those, and the thunder certainly wasn’t forthcoming with anything, just as the emperor liked to control what we knew about them.

Bangtan was powerful and mysterious and that was it. That’s where it started and ended.

Jimin’s sudden chuckle brought me back to a pouting Jungkook doing squats like his life depended on it while I did my best to keep up.

“Nobody knows what our baby does yet,” he teased him, “Don’t worry Kook, you’ll put the seed of terror into all their hearts by the end of this year.” It was the kind of mocking that wasn’t meant to hurt and flew between people who actually liked each other and knew the limits of other’s senses of humour, and I curiously watched as Jungkook played up the pout even more before bursting into a toothy grin.

Then it caught up to me what the blue-haired dragon said and I stopped dead in my tracks, shocking Jungkook into freezing too. There was a suspicion at my heart that would explain everything that was happening right now, and I didn’t hesitate to speak it into the universe.

“Wait… is this your first year participating in the unit?” I blurted out and saw Hoseok tense up out of the corner of my eye. Jungkook spiritedly nodded and I felt both relief and horror.

“Kookie’s never had a rider,” Jimin supplied, really speaking to me for the first time since I arrived, “He’s only reached adulthood sixty years ago.”

A myriad of questions suddenly had answers in my mind – Jungkook fumbling the polite traditions at the banquet, the overprotective hovering that Jimin and Hoseok were exhibiting right now, the combative energy both of them lowkey exuded while Jungkook himself was a ball of excitement. Stepping into the unknown, for the first time.

At the bottom of it all was a huge boulder falling off of my chest at the thought that I wasn’t completely alone in this frightening and exhilarating new experience we had in front of us. Now, looking at us both be clueless and anxious and eager, I found myself relaxing considerably. We could be stupid about this together, and that was a relieving thought.

Jungkook was staring daggers into his hyung and whining that he was more adult than he made it sound, but his ears were red. Hoseok in the background fondly watched on, and suddenly I felt like too much of an intruder.

Clearing my throat, I called for his attention again and asked: “So what is your power?”

Jungkook’s big dark innocent eyes were back at me and he straightened up, only to start doing lunges. I scrambled to follow his lead, warming up with him with no idea what he was planning to do today.

I wondered whether he had any other potentials, but thinking back I haven’t seen him interact with any other of the first years. I hoped that whatever trials he prepared for me, I’d be able to successfully get through them.

“My magick is elemental,” the tatted dragon started explaining, “much like Jimin-hyung’s. But mine is earth.” I itched to ask more questions and get more details out of him, but I didn’t want to overstep. Jungkook may have looked like he’d gladly answer everything, but generally dragons didn’t like it and didn’t think it proper to probe, and I didn’t want to aggravate the two high strung hyungs stepping around the training grounds and watching their younger packmate with hawk eyes.

I watched them out of the corner of my eyes, and their warning gazes were already glued to me, but Jungkook looked at me with expectant eyes just begging to be asked for more details. Sweating bullets, I swallowed my silent tears and opened my dumb mouth. This is going to be more challenging than I thought, but in a way I could have never anticipated.

“How does that work?” I gritted through my teeth, trying to ignore Hoseok’s narrowed eyes or Jimin’s outright stare. Jungkook, though, brightened and changed back to jumping jacks for ease of talking.

“Much like hyung manipulates water, I can manipulate earth,” he begun cheerily, “tear it apart, tear chunks out and throw them, cause a chasm to open or small-scale earthquakes. I can also work with and manipulate stones and ore, not just dirt.” I gave him a wide-eyed stare, surprised to learn the extent of his powers, though some things were still a little vague. But I didn’t dare to ask more questions, I’ve already tried their patience too much.

“It also means he has tough skin. Impenetrable. And it makes him very strong, like a boulder,” to my surprise it was Jimin who volunteered this information, his curious eyes flittering cautiously between me, Jungkook and Hoseok still standing a few steps away.

“There’s a downside though,” Jungkook continued, “every power has its downside. Like a weakness. It’s tied into the nature of our magick. Like fire magick’s weakness would be water and ice.” The horror that seeped into Hoseok’s face quickly clued me into the fact that Jungkook just shared something he wasn’t supposed to say.

“Yes, but that isn’t something we need to talk about right now,” Jimin jumped in, shaken and panicked, throwing the youngest dragon a stare that could only be interpreted as a warning. Unsure, I stopped and glanced between the three dragons locked into some sort of a silent battle. After a few beats I realised they must have been talking telepathically, as that was something mated dragons could do.

“She’ll have to know anyway, as my bonded,” Jungkook said finally, firmly looking from his hyungs and offering me a smile. Shakily, I attempted to returned it, but it was hard with the burning I felt from the other’s stares. I couldn’t even fully process the fact that Jungkook basically announced that we would bond, the statement barely registering in my anxious mind.

What in the hell was going on?

Then Jungkook took off, only looking behind to beckon me as he started on a lap around the training grounds. Giving one last nervous glance to the two tense dragons, I took a deep breath and ran off after him.

Jungkook was fast and it took me a moment to catch up to him, but after a lap or two we settled into a comfortable pace side by side, and I slowly came to realise what this was. Endurance test. He wanted to know how strong and trained I was. With one less unknown to worry about, I fell into step with him and steeled myself to keep up for as long as I was capable of.

The silence was comfortable between us, a nice change from the charged atmosphere around the older dragons, but I couldn’t blame them for being so cautious, especially since it seemed Jungkook’s enthusiasm was sometimes faster than the well-earned distrust towards humans that every dragon harboured deep inside their heart. I dreaded to think of someone else in my position, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of his true earnest nature.

But even I was a risk – even I could misstep, hurt him. Even I could end up being a danger to him and his thunder. I had to make sure I wouldn’t.

“Have you ever met a dragon before?” Jungkook’s quiet voice pulled me out of my troubling thoughts. It was an unusual question, one that I had no idea how to interpret the intentions behind. What was he really asking?

“Well, yes... I’ve been coming to the capital with father for quite some time,” I drawled out, weighing in my mind on how much to share, “but I really just saw them around. Didn’t really speak to anyone, I wasn’t allowed to.” Painful memories of a smiling brown-haired man resurfaced in my mind, just how they so often did ever since he left. I chanced a look at the tatted dragon, and he watched me like he knew there was more. He waited whether I would continue. A wave of strange unfamiliar emotion rose inside of me, and I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand. I was so confused. But then I spoke anyway because it felt right to do so.

“When I was little,” the words slowly trickled out of me, like I had to use force to push them out, “maybe eight or nine, a dragon-knight and his bonded came to our fief. They stayed with us for a little over a year. The knight was a merry man, full of laughs and jokes, and his dragon was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” The young dragon smiled gently and gestured for me to keep talking as we ran laps. I started becoming a little breathless now that I had a story to tell, but I pushed through.

“I spent a lot of time with him, to me he was the manifestation of all things magical and fantastical,” the soft laugh that tumbled out of me surprised me, but I carried on, “He took to teaching me. Brought me out to forests and meadows, taught me about magick and nature, about dragons, about kindness to living things and cooperating with the natural world. He always called it ‘the old philosophy’. That this is how dragons used to teach their young.”

Looking back at it now with the knowledge I have, it wasn’t that hard to understand why he was such a thorn in the emperor’s eye. Why he was running away from the palace, trying his luck away from the capital. It was rotten fate that he ended up on a land that belonged to my father out of all people.

Next to me Jungkook hummed, reminding me of his presence, and suddenly the exercise caught up with me and I realised I would need a break soon to catch my breath. The young dragon seemed fine though, as he jogged on by my side with a soft smile.

“What was his name?” he asked, with reverence I haven’t heard from him yet, the quiet wonder at this mythical teacher from my childhood visible in his eyes, and it warmed me to see it. With a smile of my own I answered: “Hwan.” As simple as that.

I didn’t tell him his real name. I couldn’t yet. My teacher was a controversial character, a forbidden topic, and these dragons were most definitely aware of him, as his sudden disappearance happened only something over a decade ago. He was the first dragon in centuries to openly go against the throne, and the first person I’ve ever met that was part of a resistance against the empire. Hwan was the name he went by while he stayed with us, when he pretended to be human while going to the town’s market with me.

I’ve already learned from my mistake once. I wouldn’t reveal his name until I was sure it was safe.

“I don’t remember a dragon with that name,” Jungkook thought out loud, contemplative expression taking over his youthful face, “do you know what his magick is?”

“I’m not sure where he is currently,” was all I answered with, shutting down the conversation with firm gentleness. Thankfully the man understood. He gave me one long curious silent look, eyes taking me in from head down to my toes, something a little unreadable settling into them. But an air of softness remained, one that made me comfortable in his presence against all facts and reason.

“Let’s go try horse riding now,” was all he finally said, a little more mischief bleeding into his features, “last time you barely even rode. I need to know you can keep yourself in the saddle.”

With a nod I followed after him, silently musing on whether the bond manifested in things deeper than just compatibility for magick. Things that would explain why the pull towards the younger dragon exceeded reason and strayed into the territory of complicated feelings of comfort and safety.

Jimin shuffled nervously right next to his hyung, shuddering under the barrage of negative emotions flowing into him from Hoseok’s side of the bond.

“You shouldn’t encourage him so much, you know,” Hoseok chided him softly, even though the water dragon felt the weight of his hyungs fears and anxieties. But he didn’t think he was deserving of a scolding nevertheless.

“What do you mean? I barely even did anything,” Jimin grumbled under his breath, eyes trained on the duo running side by side by the fence, one ear listening into the conversation and heart enquiringly checking on Jungkook’s emotions. Hope, curiousness, tender joy. All that shined through, and he knew that his hyung felt it too. And didn’t like it one bit. “He spilled everything all on his own,” Jimin added for good measure.

He subconsciously rubbed at the tender skin of his wrist, mind going back to the night of the banquet, as it so often did these days. He couldn’t shake off the buzz of the bond as it shocked through him with such intensity for a moment he thought she touched him and not Kookie. Sometimes, it would still run through his nervous system like a phantom pain, even days later.

“Kookie’s excited about his first bond,” Hoseok said, but his voice carried no happiness that would be normally present during such occasions, that was all taken away by the circumstance of the situation, “but this whole thing is rubbing me the wrong way. I just don’t want him to get hurt through this. Bonds have a way of influencing you, and especially the first ones can feel quite intense. I don’t want him to be blinded by it to what might be happening here.”

Jimin looked to his hyung with alarm, heart painfully contracting under the wave of freezing cold dread seeping through his bones.

“You think there’s an ulterior motive to the bond,” the younger dragon meant it as a question, but at that point it was useless to ask. Hoseok obviously thought something else was going on under all this, and the possibility of it lit some sort of primal fear in Jimin. Bonds used to be a sacred thing, thinking that they could be stripped from all their beauty and used so villainously, it never failed to tear him apart. Never failed to remind him of all that was taken from them.

“Think about it,” Hoseok stated seriously, eyes similarly glued to Jungkook and watching his smiling face with a hint of despair, “We’ve never felt a bond similar to this one. Neither the hyungs nor Joonie have ever heard of something similar. She’s a daughter of a man as close to the throne as one can be. Is it really such a stretch to believe that he may have tampered with the bond?”

“But would that even be possible?” Jimin asked, voice quiet as the horrifying feasibility sunk into his mind, “It can’t, right?” That would change everything. It would take away more than they’ve already lost – it would warp the very nature of their souls. Haven’t they already destroyed enough? Would they go as far as to mess with natural magical bonds?

“He’s already done so much and he continues to want even more,” Hoseok argued firmly, no traces of the smiling man left in his demeanour, “I have no idea what Kangdae’s end goal is, but if there’s someone capable of this, it’s him. And she’s in his closest circle, her father serves him more than he serves his own family.” No matter how many times Jimin heard the emperor’s name flow out so effortlessly in conversation, he still got an uncomfortable feeling. His hyungs using it like that didn’t feel right – it made him too scared for them, like they were committing a grave sin. Yet they never budged.

Looking back to the young duo, a chilling sensation gripped Jimin’s insides. Could this be a trap? What would even be the purpose of manipulating a bond like that? Was she originally not meant for them?

“I worry for him too,” Jimin muttered finally, “We’ll have to keep an eye on him.” The things they needed to keep close eyes on just kept stacking up and Jimin was about to lose his mind if this continued. The threat hanging over all their heads somehow felt more present than ever. Not even the thought of his all-knowing hyungs made him feel better. Quite the opposite – feeling their quiet dismay, their wide eyes and hushed whispers when they thought they wouldn’t notice, it drove Jimin even more wild with panic.

“I wish we could consult the ancients on this,” the blue-haired dragon whispered quiet enough that had his companion not paid attention, he’d miss it, “the closest we got to that is Jin-hyung and he’s as lost as we are.” Hoseok’s tiny fond chuckle lifted some weight off of Jimin’s shoulders, the younger dragon turning to his hyung with a smile.

“Don’t let him hear that or we’ll never hear the end of it,” the healer teased softly, reaching out to mess with Jimin’s hair. Silence settled around them, but it was oppressive in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time, not around his mates. He shivered with it, tried to withstand it, but couldn’t without the warmth his lovers offered.

Reaching out for his hyung’s hand, they shuffled around until Hoseok was protectively holding him curled into his side as they both watched on, hearts heavy and minds racing a mile in a minute.

Jimin noted to himself all that she shared, vowing to ask Jin-hyung later about that dragon she spoke so highly of. He hoped, and Jungkook might never believe him this, but he really hoped she wasn’t deceiving them. Not because of her, but for Jungkook’s sake. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if this ended up hurting their youngest packmate.

Bonds cut deep, especially when they ended badly. Yoongi-hyung still carried those scars in him to prove that. He himself knew the pain of bonds that were forced on him – how oppressive they were to his own mind and heart, how every time he was used for a battle and then discarded, his soul wept for the loss of a bond that never really existed in the first place.

For all their might and power, dragons were tender beings. Easily swayed by shiny trinkets and a little kindness, they got attached so readily, and felt grief deeply when everything died in the end and they carried on.

Whether she betrayed him or died, that wound would stay with Jungkook for the rest of his nigh eternal life, and he so desperately wished he could protect him from that.

Jimin, in that moment of all-consuming terrifying despair and helplessness, knew he would give everything, even his own life, to ensure the crash and fall of the empire just to tear Jungkook out of the way of a sure tragedy in the form of his new potential rider.

“Has Taehyungie had any vision about this?” Hoseok’s voice suddenly cut through his spiralling thoughts, pulling Jimin from his little circle of doom, “Last I asked him he said he can’t see anything.” The blue-haired man thought back to the day before, to his younger mate with his dark red, heavy curls falling into his eyes, the worried frustrated expression on his face translating into the wobbling lip when he came to Jimin absolutely shattered that he can’t help his hyungs in any way, the fear dripping so thick off of him the water dragon almost tasted it in the air. Tae was devastated at his own inability to induce a vision on the young knightess, even though he privately shared with Jimin that it didn’t feel completely wrong, only that he wasn’t supposed to know yet (which according to him happened sometimes, but it still felt awful). Nonetheless it only added to the unsureness that hung about them when it came to this bond.

“No, he’s trying really hard but can’t see anything,” Jimin whispered towards his hyung, even though he was pretty sure Jungkook wasn’t listening he’d still rather he didn’t hear this on accident, “Please don’t ask him about it, hyung. He’s feeling terrible.”

Hoseok gave him a sad smile and nodded, his hands tightening on the younger worried man as he himself sunk into the troubling thoughts. Jimin hated the sudden air of uncertainty hanging over their heads that irritatingly everyone except for their youngest seemed to feel.

Jungkook kept his oblivious care-free aura while everyone around him panicked about the future of the pack, even future of dragons at all. His hyungs were running themselves thin trying to find out what this meant while he sat around the town house and talked about how he couldn’t wait for the bonding ritual.

Jimin was as angry with him as he was worried for him. But only time would tell which way this would go. And deep in his heart he knew that even if the world was falling apart, his hyungs would never let them get hurt.

Squeezing Hobi’s hand back, he finally allowed himself to relax into the warm man’s embrace.

Maybe somewhere in this country still were children who felt comforted and encouraged by their father’s presence by their side, but I certainly wasn’t one of them. The stifling aura of him hovering behind me put me on edge, the threat of ‘impress him or else’ hanging in the air over us. Father would never say it outright, no, that wasn’t his style. But it was always written into him, into his features, into the firm grip of his hand on my arm when he wanted me to check myself.

Brother stood next to him looking bored, doing his best to miss all of my pointed stares, so I redirected my attention back to the gold-plated doors in front of me, waiting for them to open and invite us in.

The emperor sometimes liked to keep people waiting. If it was just my father, he’d be let in immediately, but since it was our entire family he felt the need to show power and let us stand outside for a while. I felt the mounting wave of frustration and annoyance, pursing my lips together to keep myself in line. None of us spoke and it made the time tick by even slower. Two stripes guards flanked the door on each side and nervously evaded our eyes, no doubt wishing they were anywhere else than in front of the increasingly more displeased old general.

Then finally, after what felt like a whole hour, the door slowly creaked open and I suddenly found myself on the forefront of our little group, first to be seen, first to move and first to speak. It was unnerving.

It took a little shove to my lower back (I wasn’t sure which one of the men it was, but it was effective) to make me move into the room, and I did so sluggishly – focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and not on the man sitting leisurely on a sofa at the centre of the room. Subconsciously I straightened and adjusted my black and silver uniform, even though he didn’t look up. He actually looked like he couldn’t care less and for a moment I pondered over how my father managed decades of sucking up to a person like that. My patience would have run out so fast I’d be executed before my pillow even had the chance to permanently dent into the shape of my head.

Even though I knew the emperor was a few years older than my brother, he looked young, maybe even younger than me. He didn’t stand, and he didn’t have to, but we still kneeled on the little carpet and bowed to his uninterested form. It was humiliating and rage inducing, my hands curling into tight fists as if I was contemplating lunging at him and punching him. I wasn’t, I just wanted to go home mainly.

The emperor asked us to meet us in one of his salons that he sometimes used for official visits, so instead of the throne room we found ourselves in a pompously decorated room with a theme that I could only describe as “rubies”. The man himself sat on a sofa that was on a little platform, step above everyone else, and he stood out as a sore thumb with his golden aura in the sea of reds and crimsons.

I twitched towards one of the sofas, but a hand on my wrist immediately pulled me back into place, and so we just silently stood there some more, waiting for some command or a simple acknowledgement, but the golden man kept wordlessly scribbling something onto a stack of documents. After the fourth line I felt the frustration return with full force (and then some more), gritting my teeth as we humiliatingly waited with heads hung low in respect.

Then the sound stopped. The man clapped twice and everything set into motion. I was pulled by my father to a sofa, and I confusedly let myself be manhandled into place while I watched the flurry of servants run in with tea and sweets and carry the stack of documents out. A second later the emperor’s eyes were on me, for what felt like first time in my life.

For some reason I was surprised by his beauty. I didn’t know why, I’ve seen him before but always from much further away. I had a better idea of what his father looked like, and at the end of his life he turned into a bitter mean old man, therefore the youthful charm took the wind out of my sails lightly.

He was bathed in gold, from head to toe – from his attire and jewels to his skin, to his burning bright hair. Even his eyes had specks of gold swimming in the brown. But the longer I looked at him, the more I saw the signs of his cruelty, things that no amount of grace and allure could hide – his stare had no warmth in it despite his polite smile, instead it froze me down with its poorly hidden brutality; his sharp features didn’t as much add to his handsomeness as they brought out the shadows on his face, underlining the haunting savagery of his faux kind smile. When his lips stretched to reveal his white perfect teeth, I was almost expecting to see them pointy and sharp enough to tear flesh to shreds.

“Yeong-su, Man-young,” he greeted with a nod first my father, then my brother, before his eyes redirected to me, “and you must be Y/N then.” His voice was strong and firm, with a tone of courteousness so false it felt sleazy. I shuddered, barely managed to hide it from his inquisitive eyes and then shakily smiled back with my own nod.

“Your majesty,” father greeted, just as slimy and with a similar looking smile. I supressed the disgust crawling up the sides of my stomach and kept to myself. This might have been the first and only time I was happy about the general insisting I don’t speak so I don’t embarrass him.

“I hope your morning has gone well, our empire,” he continued, head bowed so deep his chin was digging into his breastbone, “we, your people, are joyous for the opportunity to meet with you.” Seeing Man-young going into a slight bow again, I scrambled to follow, not giving myself the space to inspect that pile of insincere grovelling bullshit.

“Thank you, general,” came a simple answer, “I hear you are here for the purpose of your daughter’s bonding. Your eyes are on Bangtan, general?” It felt both inquisitive and threatening, like a thinly-veiled warning. I curiously watched my father, the proud man that he was who would rather die than let anyone disrespect him, as he ducked his head in pretend humility. I’d never realised that he was such a damned good actor.

“Of course not, our empire, we wouldn’t dare to demand your dragons, we can simply hope and beg for your blessing.” That seemed to have satisfied the young sovereign, and I had to wonder whether he was genuinely stupid enough to believe it or whether he didn’t care because he knew his place of power and trusted in his invincibility. Surely, everyone could tell these were all fake sentiments, even the man that’s been listening to them since his birth?

A nudge broke me out of my reverie and I realised my father wanted me to grovel alongside with him, but before I could think of anything to say, a knock to the door interrupted us.

“Oh, perfect timing,” emperor exclaimed, for the first time with a real sense of excitement which put me off slightly, and then he was gesturing for the door to open. And the most curious group of people stood behind it.

The first to stroll leisurely into the room was Duke Lee, and I barely suppressed the obvious disgust on my face. He only shot me a single unfriendly glare before his expression melted into a similar smarminess of all the council members in the presence of the emperor. I tuned out his dick-sucking-esque monologue that the ruler seemed to eat up to take in the other three newcomers. Well, except that they weren’t truly new to me.

The silver-haired dragon I’ve seen a mere week ago when my father dragged me to the council meeting still had his signature cold expressionless mask on and he silently made his way through the room without acknowledging anyone to sit on a chair by the emperor’s sofa.

The other two were a surprise to me.

Jungkook wearing a uniform I’d never seen before (and that he seemed exceedingly uncomfortable in) and constantly squirming in place tried to greet me, but was promptly stopped by his companion. A dragon I knew very well despite the fact that I haven’t officially met him before. He was only slightly taller than Jungkook, but his muscular and wide form made him seem towering, alongside the power and authority that was pouring off of him in waves that attempted to drown me. His golden fiery eyes were fond yet firm on Jungkook’s squirming form, before they turned into the room and became as cold and hard as stone. I had to fight back the urge to kneel and bow to him just like we did to the emperor.

I was face to face with Namjoon, the head of Bangtan thunder, a fire dragon and one of the most easily recognisable faces of the dragonkind staying in or around the castle.

The second our eyes met I shot to my feet and bowed full 90 degrees to him, shocking the room into silence as everyone’s attention was suddenly drawn to me. When I straightened back up, Namjoon was giving me a strange look, but said nothing. He only pulled Jungkook with him to a sofa opposite of us and they made themselves comfortable.

“You’ve served me well since my coronation, general,” the emperor started again, “and my father for long years before that. You know it would be a pleasure to have my dragons in your family’s care.” Now it was my father who stood up and bowed fully, dragging me with him to extend the same courtesy, which I did with significantly more difficulty than when I bowed to Namjoon.

Duke Lee found his place on the same sofa as the two dragons, watching the exchange with fiery eyes, lips turned to a thin line. I didn’t even know what he was doing here, and his salty aura was really ruining the morning for me even further, so I did my best to ignore his very existence.

“Jungkook is your bonded, then?” this question was aimed at me, but the king was already eyeing the two Bangtan dragons sitting uncomfortably next to the slimy duke. They knew better than to speak and only inclined their heads, though I could see Namjoon fighting off words.

“Not yet, your majesty, though I hope for his acceptance,” I chose my words carefully, once again trying to dangerously toe the line of politeness and smarminess, desperately trying to please both sides and escape suspicion, but by the unhappy twitch of emperor’s lips and the cold expression on Namjoon’s face, I was failing at both.

“You have my approval, that’s more than law,” the gold-clad man stated firmly, voice void of the falseness it held before, “Do you want him to be yours?” This was the real man on the throne. Only now we truly had the pleasure of meeting him.

Now, that was the question, wasn’t it? Everything and more on the line with a single word – yes, of course I wanted to bond Jungkook. Did his thunder wish for the same? Would they ever forgive me for not giving them a choice? Those both had the same answer, one whose outcome I had to risk either way, and I hated it. Not more than them, though.

“Yes, your majesty,” I settled for, not wanting to drag it out. It was safer to stick to short answers and the man himself wasn’t interested in anything more. Namjoon sat in his place, frozen – not with shock, I don’t think at that point he had it in him to be surprised at this anymore. It felt more like resignation. Jungkook still looked the same, looked at me the same, but the heaviness in his shoulders spoke of his mate’s emotional turmoil.

“Very well,” were the next emperor’s words and with that it was decided. I sat back down and kept my head hung low. I was too guilt-ridden to look at the dragons anymore, the humiliation swirled in my stomach and made me sick, and all I wanted was to just have this all behind me. Once bonded, it would get easier – and then a whole lot more difficult.

“Duke, how is the rest of the unit?”

Well, that had my attention, but I pretended not to watch the exchange, keeping my gaze at the table and the variety of colourful chocolate sweets that still sat untouched on the beautiful decorative plate. I just saw Namjoon’s tense form and Jungkook’s squirming legs while he found it hard to settle down into the furnishing. The straight posture of my brother to my side told me he was also diligently keeping up, though I couldn’t understand why this would fall under the umbrella of his interests. My brother was a shadow, he had nothing to do with the horns.

But the most curious was that Lee seemed to be involved to this extent.

“Excellent, our empire, from what I’ve heard three others have already found their dragons as well,” the duke’s irksome voice replied, and I was minutely reminded of baron Kim and his overt friendliness, “Only two remain undecided.”

When did he become the spokesperson of Qinglong? As far as I was aware, he had nothing to do with the unit. I haven’t even really seen him around the dragon-knights, so how come he was suddenly being summoned like this to speak of the unit and the new arrivals? How has he managed to weasel his way in here, when just a few months back he was mostly whining about mining and gems?

“Splendid. I want the bonding ceremony to happen in three days,” the sovereign demanded, in the manner that he was used to – speaking it into existence, “It will be the full moon. Make sure the others are ready as well.” There was some more small-talk, mostly the duke bending over backwards to agree and promise he will make it happen, while the rest of us watched him with varying stages of appalment.

“Oh, that’s right duke, I’ve heard your son showed a brilliant performance with a sword,” it was a statement uttered thoughtlessly as part of the polite conversation, but just as the information sunk into my brain and I froze, I saw Jungkook do the same. Almost on instinct we looked to each other, similar sense of horror looming over us both, and I saw Namjoon’s eyes flit between us in alarm out of the corner of my eye.

The bad premonition got confirmed when the duke suddenly straightened in joy, and if he had a tail, it would be wagging wildly behind him at that moment, and he started prattling off about his son championing the banquet.

Peacock. His son was Peacock.

Well, that didn’t complicate anything at all! I should have fucking known the moment I looked at that bastard, this particular brand of being an awful person truly did run in the family. And it explained the duke being all salty and mad about me interacting with Bangtan. With him weaselling into the emperor’s graces and into the higher layers of the dragon unit, he most probably aimed for his son to be the one to snatch Jungkook or Jimin. I wondered whether his son was one of the two who still didn’t find their dragons or whether they managed to find someone pleasing enough. I thought back to the poor dragon with fire red hair and hoped that he wasn’t a potential connection to that ass.

It also explained the sudden change of the banquet activities and the fact that Peacock knew of the details before anyone else did. It wasn’t because Lord Kim was sucking up to his father, it was because Duke Lee somehow found a way to involve himself with the unit.

Oh, father would not be happy about that…

“Your majesty,” Namjoon’s deep rumbling voice cut through the duke’s uninteresting chatter, and immediately commanded the attention of the whole room, “If you don’t mind the suggestion, I had hoped that young mistress Kang would be first introduced to the thunder before we make the decision to bond with her. Three days is quite fast.” Clearly the date bothered him quite a lot, and I felt a pang in my heart at the closed off unhappy expression on his face when he spoke of me.

But before the emperor could answer him, and by the look on his face he wasn’t very happy with the dragon, Jungkook hurriedly interjected. “I have already made the decision to bond with Y/N-ssi,” tumbled out of his mouth in a rush and surprised both me and Namjoon. I felt a light blush rise to my cheeks and this time my heart hurt from the timid joy at such an earnest confession, while Namjoon watched his youngest mate with hard warning eyes.

To everybody else in the room though it felt like a hasty attempt to smooth out the fire dragon’s uncompromising words, including the visibly displeased sovereign sitting above us like a ruler of the universe.

“The decision has been made, dragon,” the golden man spit out, a beastly sneer sneaking onto his face when he looked over the hundreds of years old magical being that he thought was beneath him, “You have two days to introduce her to the thunder.”

I was getting ready to intercept and try to save the situation a little, syphon away a little bit of that anger the man clearly felt at not being listened to unconditionally, and as much as that made me dislike him even more, I did have to suck up to him in situations like these. But then he scoffed and continued.

“Or better yet, do it today. That’s an order.” All the peace-making words died in my throat, and I nervously glanced towards the fire dragon, who was discreetly trying to hide the daggers in his eyes. He said nothing and nodded, holding Jungkook’s wrist. The younger dragon looked towards me with troubled eyes, and that was that. Stellar.

My irritation towards the emperor steadily rose, as he seemed to be adamant on making this as hard for me as possible, so I just quietly gulped everything down and sat patiently and politely by my father’s side.

The rest of the meeting flew by and I barely even paid attention, too busy trying to think through the buzz of nerves how to ease the tension, but ultimately deciding that I had to ride this one out, see and think quick on my feet based on their reactions. Namjoon, similar to Hoseok yesterday, had that air of gentleness when he looked to Jungkook, and while that all disappeared the moment his eyes weren’t on his mate, I still hoped he wouldn’t be unmovable. I’d learn what I’d have to do to earn his trust, all in good time.

In the meantime I let myself be comforted by the fact that Jungkook seemed to be fully in acceptance of this bond. I wondered whether he was able to feel anything from me. Maybe my genuinity shined through the connection, maybe deep down he felt he could trust me. I desperately didn’t want to let him down.

When the emperor finally sent us on our way, my family didn’t even waste time talking to me. With a curt nod both the men stepped through the door and set out towards the Academy, only my father pausing shortly to send me a distinctive warning look that screamed ‘don’t fuck this for us’ before he walked off.

Jungkook was cautiously smiling my way, but Namjoon next to him stood tensely, unreadable gaze glued to my father’s back. I hoped that there wasn’t much bad blood between them, but given my father’s personality you simply couldn’t spend the last 35 years in the same circles without inevitably ending up hating him, so that was probably a foolish wish.

When the golden gaze shifted to me it felt like a whole mountain was suddenly sitting on my shoulders, the weight and depth of his eyes pressing me into the ground. He was a respectable man, taking his place of standing between his thunder and the emperor very seriously, and it reflected all in his straight back and dark eyes. To me it was the first time I found myself firmly in the centre of his attention, and I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of that stare that felt like it was burning through me straight to the deepest most hidden and vulnerable places in my soul.

He wasn’t happy with me. He didn’t like me accepting on behalf of Jungkook. I could read it all there, and I felt deeply ashamed.

The silence stretching was weighing down heavily on me, I couldn’t help myself but shake in the tense atmosphere. Even Jungkook only quietly watched his thunder leader, not daring to speak out while Namjoon’s calculating gaze took me in.

Finally buckling under that stare I hesitantly bent at the waist, bowing to the man in the same manner I did to all the other dragons from this thunder I met, but inside I was second-guessing everything.

“Authority, it is an honour to meet you,” it was a miracle I didn’t stumble all over my words and stutter, that was the effect the dragon had on people around him. I saw the surprise written over his face at the title used, Jungkook smiling proudly next to him and trying to catch his eye in a ‘look at me, I was right!!’ way.

The term ‘authority’ was an old title (well, now it was an old title, just a few hundred years back it was completely normal) used for leaders of thunders. It was the correct way of addressing the dragons in positions of power among their peers, and while it was a little heavy-handed in the human language, it was a direct translation from draconic. It didn’t need to make perfect sense in the context of our speak. And it wasn’t really used here anymore.

I would bet that most didn’t even know a term like this existed – and I wouldn’t have known either if it wasn’t for Hwan who taught me a little about dragon history and hierarchy.

“No need to address me as such, I hardly am an authority anymore,” the man grumbled, but his energy was a lot less hostile. Now he just seemed resigned, which also wasn’t good. I didn’t want to argue with him, so I just decided to let it go.

“Namjoon-ssi, if today isn’t suitable for you, I can come a different day,” I offered him, head still humbly lowered, “Or I can come for dinner.” The man just waved his hand around like dismissing an annoying fly and set out, Jungkook scrambling to follow after him.

“There’s no reason to. Just come,” he said simply over his shoulder, not really looking back to see whether I went after or not. With a deep sigh I willed my feet to run after them, resigning myself to a cluster-fuck of an afternoon.

Their town house was on the other side of the castle, hidden in the shadow of the big black rock the structure sat on – maybe somewhat poetically. All in all it looked very similar to ours, which was slightly worrying given the fact that our household hosted only three people, while this thunder had seven. Though mated dragons would most probably have less need for individual bedrooms, but also there was absolutely no space for them to turn forms.

Which, unfortunately, was a thing that dragons rarely got to do unless humans commanded them to. Even though they needed to regularly spend time in both forms, people often got antsy around the massive beasts and didn’t like to see it. So dragons mostly turned only if they needed to fly or they left the city and spent a few hours out in the woods.

I took the dwelling in – it seemed quite ordinary and it was obvious on first glance that it wasn’t a place they considered home. The most beautiful and cared for part of the house was the little garden in the inner courtyard, which I supposed was Hoseok’s work.

The house was quiet as we stepped through the main gate, it seemed completely empty and for a moment I wondered whether I’d have to spent hours sitting here only with Jungkook and Namjoon, because I wasn’t so sure I was quite ready for that.

But it was an unnecessary fear as I came to realise when we stepped inside, heading towards the dining room – the thunder was already sitting ready around a traditional table with pillows strewn around and a warm feast waiting for us to dig in. Three pillows were empty – two at the opposite ends of the table and one to the right side of the closer empty one.

Both dragons left me standing unsure in the doorway into the room, heading straight for the table – Namjoon sat down at the head of the table, next to a broad-shouldered pink-haired man with massive wings spanning from his back and a very unfriendly looking man with long black hair and black horns curling around the crown of his head. That one I recognised – it was very hard to forget Yoongi once you’d seen him once. Especially when you’ve found yourself at the receiving end of that stare. Which I had before. It was not pleasant.

For the second time that day I found myself bowing respectfully, though now to considerably bigger number of dragons.

“Thank you for having me,” it was hard to say in a volume louder than a whisper – it felt like it should be whispered. It was useless politeness, given the fact that they were ordered to have me for lunch, but it was better than not saying anything.

Jungkook, who took the empty seat by the end of the table patted the pillow next to him and I slowly walked over to take it, folding myself down. No one spoke. When I chanced looking up, I found that their gazes seemed quite neutral and they were just taking me in. Well, except for Yoongi, who never gave much thought to pointless politeness – and strangely enough Hoseok, whose eyes had something unreadable but definitely not good in them.

This seat put me directly opposite of Namjoon, and much like before in the hall he left the silence stretch until I had time to spiral all the way down thinking I had already managed to fuck up a first meeting given the fact the cheerful nature dragon was looking at me like he’d need to protect his den from my murderous rage by the end of this meal.

“Let me properly introduce myself,” I started in the end, though at that point it already felt a little too late, but the quiet had a way of messing with my head. I had spent too many hours under my father’s wordless disappointment to keep my cool under such heavy gazes. “I am Kang Y/N of the northern clan.” Nothing more was needed to say.

Everybody already seemed to know though, so at least we saved ourselves that awkward realisation.

“Welcome to our house, Kang Y/N of the northern clan,” the pink-haired dragon spoke, and I was so relieved I could cry of happiness. The man had an aura of unnatural beauty about him and in my head I went through the packmates I still haven’t met trying to guess who he was. Taking in the air of maturity and a sense of duty that exuded from him, the firm yet gentle voice he spoke with and the wings that looked very uncomfortably folded over his back and bent over the ground, I was betting on the eldest.

“That’s Jin-hyung,” Jungkook whispered to me, though his voice was still loud enough to be heard through the whole room, drawing some smiles from the rest of the men. It broke the ice a little, draining away a bit of that tenseness from their shoulders, which I was infinitely grateful for.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Seokjin-ssi,” I greeted the dragon properly, bowing once more with a small smile – which he accepted graciously.

Turning to the two other dragons I’ve met before I gave each a small bow as well. “And nice to see you again, Jimin-ssi, Hoseok-ssi.” Their smiles were significantly less enthusiastic, but I’d take it. Better than nothing.

Now there were two dragons left – one that I recognised as Yoongi and one that had to be Taehyung, but neither of them seemed eager to introduce themselves. While Yoongi still kept his air of careful hostility, Taehyung looked at me curiously but with very obvious apprehension. I saw his hand tightly gripping onto Hoseok sitting next to him and given the fact that he sat at the end of the table, opposite of Jungkook, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. I tried not to take it personally.

Choosing to stop dancing around it, I took the moment to look into his eyes, hoping to convey as much genuineness as possible in that single glance and said: “It is an honour to meet you as well, Taehyung-ssi.”

The man didn’t look away, didn’t flinch, only turned his head slightly as if thinking. His eyes took me in, as if looking at me for the first time, before he finally straightened and leaned away from his older mate, instead choosing to watch me with intensity rivalling that of Namjoon. But while under the Authority’s eyes I felt like he was searching my soul for any wrongdoing, Taehyung’s eyes were like those of a curious child faced with an exciting experiment.

I had no idea whether that was a good thing, but it seemed better than before.

The last dragon didn’t even really give me a chance to speak, just nodded at me recognising that I knew him and to move on. So I did. Out of everyone here, the atmokinetic was the one I wanted to antagonise the least, so I just let it go and settled more into my seat.

“Well, let’s dig in,” Seokjin announced, still a little wooden, but the prospect of food worked like a charm to loosen up the atmosphere. Now we didn’t need to speak and the silence could be filled with sounds of eating, saving us from the inevitable awkward ‘what are your intentions with my son’ conversation.

“So, Y/N.” Or not.

I looked up to Namjoon, who sat tensely in his seat, something little pulled onto his plate just so he wouldn’t stand out, but both his hands were clasped together in front of his face and he peered at me over them.

“Yes, Authority,” I answered, hoping he wouldn’t take offence to me bringing back the title now that we were in the privacy of his home and thunder, and while he didn’t react much, at least he didn’t tell me to stop. Everyone else at the table though turned to look at me shocked, and I burned under those six gazes, rather choosing not to dissect the meanings behind their eyes for the sake of my own psyche.

Seokjin at least seemed somewhat appeased, though Yoongi started frowning even more if that was even possible. I felt the examining probing gaze of Taehyung, but I didn’t turn.

I wondered whether I was trying a little too hard a little too soon. I hoped that I was laying down the foundation of future partnerships. If nothing else, I knew that Jungkook strangely remained firmly on my side.

“Why Qinglong?” Namjoon asked, neutrally watching me over the rim of a glass he picked up. If possible, my heart sped up even more when all the dragons paused and looked towards me, eyes reflecting various stages of curiosity and mistrust.

“I…” I felt my throat go dry, thoughts racing in my head, all trying to come up with the best way to put this without antagonising anyone even more.

“I’ve honestly always wanted to work with dragons,” I settled on, giving them a shaky smile. No one reacted, their faces stayed passive and gazes inquisitive, waiting for me to continue. “I had a teacher, when I was younger-” I was prepared to launch into the whole explanation again, but Seokjin’s quick response stopped me.

“Oh, that’s right!” the pink-haired man exclaimed, “Jimin and Jungkook mentioned the dragon you knew. Hwan, am I right?” I nodded, a little shocked, hesitantly looking over to Jimin. Jungkook telling his thunder was expected, but Jimin wasn’t even a part of that conversation. What could he possibly had to say about it?

The water dragon in question stubbornly avoided my gaze though, watching his plate as he chased unruly vegetables around with his spoon. He had nothing more to add now. The anxiety of his sudden change in demeanour was haunting me – of course it was something different to joke around when we barely knew each other, but I would have lied if I pretended his new attitude didn’t sting.

“Yes, that was- is his name,” I stumbled through the sentence, dragging my eyes back to the eldest who was giving me a stunted polite smile. He tried really hard to maintain some sense of normalcy, and for that I was grateful, now that Jimin and Hoseok barely looked at me, Yoongi and Namjoon outright didn’t like me, Taehyung unsettled me and Jungkook awkwardly sat through it all with a smile on his face.

“Was? Is?” the dragon repeated with an uncomfortable confused smile, “I only met a single dragon named Hwan, and I doubt you met the same one. I don’t recall any other dragons of that name.”

“I am not sure where he is now,” I repeated the words I said to Jungkook yesterday noon, “He spent only a year at our fief. He and his knight-“

“Were travelling knights,” Seokjin jumped in, the smile a little more wooden, “Yes, Jimin mentioned you said that.” The atmosphere in the room was plunged into something more tense and uncomfortable, I could feel it charged between us.

“Therefore,” I forced out a little firmer than I wanted to, “I cannot say whether you knew him or not. I don’t know when and for how long they were in Wuyun, if even." Seokjin looked at me for few long moments, the table silent. No one was saying anything, all the dragons watching the interaction with bated breaths – especially Jungkook who for once actually squirmed with nerves, unsure of how the situation would spin.

But then Seokjin smiled again, digging back into his food with a polite expression. The others followed his example and the table rang with cutlery clinking against porcelain. I nervously followed suit. The stress took a toll on me, and I felt almost resignation settling into me. I was tired, and I was fighting a losing battle.

I knew I had to try harder, longer, and I was prepared for that. I’d earn it.

The dinner carried on, awkward small-talk springing up here or there between bouts of tense silence. None of the dragons tried to stray towards any conflicting topics again, choosing to talk about benign things, mostly with each other letting me tag along.

Yoongi didn��t say a single word the entire evening, and neither did Taehyung, though both of their energies varied strongly.

I desperately tried to hold on, letting the dragons speak and only occasionally adding something, eyes ever so often searching Jungkook’s, begging for the reassurance that I knew I’d find there. And he always delivered, smiling at me in a way that said ‘don’t worry, it’ll be okay’, and I so desperately wanted to believe that. Guess I’d have to give it time.

The first dinner could have gone better, could have been less charged, less infused with unsureness and fear, but that evening I still left filled with hope quivering in my heart, buzzing with resolve I hadn’t known for a long while.

“Duke Lee weaseled his way to the Emperor like the rat he is,” the general hissed, and I sighed into my cup knowing exactly what was coming next. “I made a mistake not paying attention to Qinglong. He thinks he can fuck me over, sneaking through the back like this. He’s always had it in for me.”

I stabbed my fork around my plate, chasing the food around and playing with it, trying not to catch the man’s attention. Whenever he got like this it was rough, and sometimes no matter what you did you still ended up at the receiving end of his fury.

He didn’t take well to any perceived competition, and Duke Lee sleazing his way into father’s personal meeting with the emperor definitely displeased him.

Even with the slight pride I was able to win him in these past few days, during the duration of this very uncomfortable lunch I felt his eyes stray to me more than once, an unreadable look on his face. I knew it quite well – he was planning something, and I didn’t like that somehow I seemed to be involved in that.

My brother sat opposite of me as usual, gaze curious and impassive all at once trained on the quietly raging man. He also seemed to be aware that he was in the clear for this one, given the relaxed nature of his usually tense form.

I was waiting for the shoe to drop, attempting to at least somewhat enjoy the food presented – after all, it wasn’t the cook’s fault the general chose this time to throw a temper tantrum and spin his evil plans.

“Y/N.”

I froze mid-bite, heart contracting painfully for an agonising moment before I untensed and turned to face the older man.

“Yes, father?” I hoped that bundle of nerves choking me wasn’t audible in my voice, that I didn’t sound as strained as I felt. I was hoping to escape this for now, though I knew I couldn’t keep the man off my back for long with just a few promises to fly Bangtan.

“There is a general leading the Qinglong unit, right?” he asked, far-away contemplative look in his eyes as he barely regarded me.

“Yes, father, Qinglong is led by General Yun and her dragoness Ha-rin,” I answered dutifully, a bad feeling settling into my stomach and weighing it down. The man only hummed, swirling the glass in hand. He minutely looked towards my brother, the two men holding eye contact for few gut-wrenching seconds before he turned back to me.

“I will look into the affiliations, but considering the size of the unit I cannot imagine there’s many ranked,” the general scoffed, something vile creeping into his eyes, “There’s at most two captain generals, which would mean around four corporals and four captains. Horns have always banked more on infamy then numbers.” The cruelty in his mocking sneer never failed to shock me, not when he always found a new way to remind me of all of his worst qualities. Just like today.

“Man-young is working hard to climb the shadows’ ranks,” father said and gestured towards my brother who still leisurely ate dinner, “I will not have you pull him down by not trying for the same. Bangtan is only the beginning.” I’ve already heard these demands before, but he’s never said them with so much undebatable conviction. There was no arguing – and I would not attempt to.

“Yes father,” I recited obediently, bowing my head in show of submission and satisfying his ego. What was it they said? Revenge tastes sweeter when the lamb trusts you with their very life? The betrayal never feels better than when they never thought you’d be the one to stab the knife in?

My father thought he knew me the best. He thought he knew how to control me the best. I fought to stifle my smile. I still had a surprise or two down my sleeves, general.

“I will pull some strings, they will not embarrass me by not having you promoted by the end of the year,” the man continued, lost to his own thoughts swirling around in that machine for destruction he called brain, hand carding through his greying black short hair and silver stubble, stormy grey eyes glazed as he already planned his next steps. “Once you become captain, you need to pull your own weight. I want you a corporal within the next year, Y/N. I hope you chose the right dragon for battle.”

I ignored the remark about Jungkook and nodded again, head still bowed politely as I agreed once more, the false promises falling out of my lips easily. My brother watched me, eyes inquisitive but none-the-wiser, and I smirked his way. I saw the exact moment disappointment ran through him, thinking I’m still nothing more than that rebellious kid hell-bent on making his life harder, and though it stung, it was the better option. He was not my friend and he would not be my ally, no matter what.

“You’ll be my tool to claiming Qinglong back to my favour. I will not stand for that vermin trying to run things on my turf.”

This was between me and the goddess of creation, the mother of nature.

But one thing I did have to give to my father – there was one thing he was most definitely right about. Bangtan was only the beginning.

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[blueberrypancakesworld]

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Hello. This post was great. 🤩💕 Could you write a version where the children (Viserys and the reader's children) and Rhaenyra are yandere platonic to the Queen? Maybe they inherited this yandere behavior from their father Viserys. Thanks 🥰😍😘💖

Our love to you

Targaryen family x Queen!reader

warning : yandere behaviour, obsession, manipulation, blackmail,

Summary : The Queen was a woman held together by love, whose love for Viserys balanced on the royal crown and her children were her support. But children, they were the blood of the dragon through and through and a dragon, just like the king, will never leave the treasure alone.

info : I'm glad you liked it so much, Yandere Viserys is just cute, have fun with the ‘successor’ fic, I hope the kids are okay it was a bit difficult to develop the personalities out of nothing and thanks for the requests.

masterlist

The prequel

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rhaenyra - The realm's delight : Rhaenyra the eldest child of Viserys and her stepdaughter, the first and eldest princess of the realm whom she had met in her prime and taken in as her own daughter. A Targaryen whose blood was tinged with dragons and fire, but also with goodness through her late mother Aemma who was a great support to her, a place she tried to fill as best she could. But like her father, Rhaenyra was aware of her power, she was the firstborn forever her father's favourite inside...something she didn't take full advantage of but the violet eyes saw behind the façade of her parents. ,,My chamber is always open for you dear," she told the queen, placing a hand on the elder's shoulder, the same gesture Viserys always used, a subliminal message, an insistence that they could both talk about anything. That the dragons of House Targayren were everywhere, that Rhaenyra only wanted the best for everyone and especially for her. She would often find herself with Rhaenyra on her dragon Syrax, not seeing the watchful gaze behind the violet eyes that watched her, telling Viserys everything he wanted to know. After all, it was love and care she would not be able to bear to lose a mother again and she would not allow it.

Baelon - The heir : The first-born son and heir to the crown, Prince Baelon is a few years younger than Rhaenyra but in no way inferior to her. He loved his family, his siblings and above all his parents, he was aware of his heritage, aware of his claim and aware that if the kingdom had to hold together it had to start with the royal couple. Violet eyes, dark but dragon-like, kept looking at his mother, he saw the pain, saw that he would be the only one who could take care of her and had to ,,I thought I would read for you" he kept coming to her in the bedchamber. He read for her, from poems to stories, while his hand kept going to the ring with the family seal. Small gestures that would prove successful, his conversation with her would become even more intense if she ever dared to leave the castle, even if it was only to Dragonstone. He was the heir and showing loyalty to his mother and honouring his father's wishes was what any good future regent did.

Alyssa - The singing Dragon : The image of her mother was reflected in the second princess of the realm, though her inner self was Targaryen, her outer self was the beauty of the queen. A young woman only slightly younger than her brother Baelon, but her manner was different, gentler and brighter, the best of her mother and the worst of Viserys. A voice that entertained the royal court and her parents in Valyrian, a voice that enchanted the whole realm and her mother, and a connection to dragons that came close to the greatest dragon riders. But her care and sweetness almost overwhelmed her mother, ,,I'll sing anything for you mother, take you to heaven I'll always be there for you" her daughter told her, drawing her into a gentle embrace. An embrace that was firm despite the sweet words, she loved her mother and no one would hurt her, she would sing to her forever if she had to but no one harmed the queen of the realm. It was an obsession that always made the king smile as he looked at his beloved wife and daughter. Alyssa's beloved mother seemed to belong only to her.

Aegon - The joyful : A Targaryen who was most like his father, a dragon of pride when he had to be, but rather someone who appreciated the pleasures of life in celebrations, alcohol and friends. A son who was one of the least likely to see her, whom she smiled at and encouraged whenever he slipped out of the castle with his friends and siblings to whom he was loyal. But above all a dragon who knew what his tears and gestures were worth, ,,Please mother...stay with me just a little longer" he often asked her at night to sit by his bed and tell him a story or sing to him. The tears that threatened to flow and the hand that sought hers was a mix of real and genuine, something he had seen in his father that he knew made him proud to follow the dragon's blood. But it was gestures that always worked, whenever she wanted to go to her children or her husband he kept her longer than necessary, he loved her care and concern it was only fair that he always got one.

Helaena - The dreamer : The dreaming Heleana, the image of a Tararyen with a gentleness and dreaminess that was unique. A princess who spent most of her time with her insects and stickers and Dreamfyre, always turning to her father when she had a dream that they would discuss for hours. A gift that could be as dangerous as it was merciful, but above all a gift that she always used to lift her mother out of desperate thoughts, ,,Don't worry about dragons mother, that's why insects are much more soothing" she always came to the queen to keep her company and show her the insects, embroidering and talking together with her. A calm yet possessive relationship, it seemed as if the queen could not conceive a thought without Helaena having seen it. A princess who always came to her mother when she had doubts about anything, something the Targayren could not and would not allow because it was best for her father, herself and the kingdom if the queen stayed in the castle out of pure love and care.

Aemond - The skilful : The penultimate prince, who in his boyhood years almost won over the queen with his devotion and emotion alone. Whose crying and outbursts of discontent could manipulate the queen so much that his siblings and even Viserys had to intervene at some point. A behaviour that only became more obssesive and praising when he realised that he got his mother's approval every time he won a tournament, every time he won a sword fight, ,,For you I will win the whole kingdom mother be sure of it" he swore to her and placed a kiss on the back of her hand whenever he entered a tournament and took up the sword. She had to come to all his fights, to all his trainings, she was there to encourage him, to praise him and again he took over every aspect of her life and would continue to do so, because he had not learnt otherwise from his father and siblings, he was a dragon and dragons took what they wanted.

Daeron - The loyal : Her last child, the youngest and sweetest of the princes Daeron a young prince whose love for his family was indescribable but most of all for his mother. He was especially attached to his second eldest sister Alyssa, clinging to her and doing his best to learn Valyrian in order to be even closer to the dragons, something that pleased everyone and especially Viserys, who kept referring to his last son as a little dragon whose loyalty was similar to that of his second eldest brother Aegon. He did everything to test his worthiness and his siblings loved him through and through, taking motions to their dragon whenever they could. But above all, he was the prince who had the easiest time convincing his mother, ,,Mother! Mother! Come on, I want to play, I've learnt something new, isn't that lovely?" he always came to visit her in her room and made her spend hours with him. His words and looks were so innocent that it could never be the dragon in him, no boy could be like the king, or could he?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[kinopioa]

The DC crossover, woo

Ok first off, it gets me how much fans hate when the games reuse areas, but Flynn unironically did that the entire issue. Never Lake (stated later) and Green Hill are just blatantly used

Second, ABT wtf, this is not how you chomp on a hotdog. Herm's coloring the fleck dark red makes it seem like Sonic has 2 mouths...

Though funny enough, I like how Herms colored this issue for the most part

Back to writing, I don't like how fandom trope egotistical Sonic is. Like it's obnoxious

I shouldn't be surprised, but maaan...

Also uh, whiplash

Sonic saying this feels weird, and this is ignoring how much Flynn downplays Amy's love for the blue blur

The way everyone is set up in pairs doesn't surprise me as that's expected for contrived collabs. What gets me is how most are off screen or barely verbalized. It's mostly Sonic and Silver with some meat

Speaking of, Silver haphazardly is here as well. So either this is IDW based as he's trapped in the present for no reason (given Sunset City, likely), or Flynn is mistakenly assuming that Silver is trapped in the present in games as well. If the former, the serious lack of IDW OCs makes this confusing

And of course...

Fans are praising Batman being able to tell that Shadow had trauma, but are oblivious to how severely disingenuous it is for Shadow to just leave and NOT try to stop this threat. This is well past Shadow 05, he's not gonna ignore this. 06, Rivals, Rivals 2, Colors DS, Forces, even noncanon stuff like TSR show him lock in to stop shit if he's aware, only being annoyed by actual distractions, but alas

It isn't even consistent *mid issue*, as he saved that possum mother

Surprisingly, no Rouge and Omega tacked on him. A first for Flynn

Shout outs to ABT drawing Chaos Spear weird. Could be worse admittedly, like treating it as an actual spear. I'll ignore Shadow's stanky legs

Oddly nerfing here, Tails already has an emerald detector

Like Riders shows it. 3K mentions it in the Japan manual

It just seems like yet another way to dismiss his own feats again, which happens a lot in IDW

Even ignoring games, this isn't even consistent for IDW. Evan's issue 68 has the Miles Electric have a built in detector, and Flynn's Season's of Chaos anniversary story also has Tails (used by Amy) have a detector

Like he already has a portable detector that has decent range, just saying

Moving on...they noted the urgency in stopping Darkseid, yet...

Amy and Shadow went back to get their vehicles? That's funny, but nothing prevented Wonder Woman from simply carrying Amy, and Shadow can simply skate. If this were a more casual context I wouldn't mind it, but nahhh

And again, blatant references

You'll notice I didn't talk much of the story. That's largely cuz it barely has any, it's a series of very disjointed events for this forced crossover

So effectively most I can do is complain of the setting, characterization, and minor art wonkiness. ABT isn't as off model as he typically is, though the streak forshortening is wack for legs this issue. Ironically he seems to be more on point for Silver's eyes/pose than what writing suggests

Also they abandoned Kalibak, lol. No mention of what to do with his beaten ass

[callsign-rogueone]

hi liz!! how are you doing?

I just wanted to ask if you could do a halloween edition of all the girlfriends dressing up

hope you ok

hi!! I’m doing okay. long weekend this week 🥳

here are my thoughts!! I had the hardest time picking costumes for some of them that could be possible in their universe — so like not pop culture references or anything. and I added how they’d be at a party, too.

Duchess is the one hosting the party, despite it being Xaden’s house — he lets her have the reins because he doesn’t do holidays, even if they’re dark and broody. I’m stuck on what she would dress up as. her and Brennan might not, honestly, with the excuse that “they’re getting too old for this” but at the very least she’d wear a nice fall-colored dress, not her rider’s clothes. she also lets her hair down for the occasion, which Brennan likes very much.

Angel dresses up as an angel, of course. cute, peaceful, and a reference to her nickname from Garrick and the boys. it’s easy enough to put together; a little white dress and a halo. Gare is a big fan of the exposed leg and the wings she’s got on. he’s going to try to pull her away from the party multiple times that night, but Angel is too polite and too shy to leave early, so Gare is a little pouty about that.

Spark is one of those people who does not care about any holiday ever. but Liam is excited about it, so she’ll play along, because she does care about him. Her costume probably consists of a t-shirt and pants, maybe a hat or a headband, but that’s it. Plunk some ears on her, and she’s the black cat to Liam’s golden retriever. Love attempted to convince her to let her draw some eyeliner whiskers — that went about as well as you’d expect it to.

Peach, our sweet healer girl, borrows someone’s flight jacket and dresses in all black to be a rider. (Dain gets over it when he sees how starry-eyed Sawyer is about this.) Later in the night, she steals the hat from Sawyer’s costume, looking him in the eye while she does. he blushes so hard, nearly choking on his drink, but thankfully these city kids don’t know the rule: wear the hat, ride the cowboy.

Darling is hand-making treats for the occasion, obviously, because she’s extra like that. she borrows a dress and shoes from Love or Duchess and is a ballerina 🥹 (this will make more sense whenever I finally finish one of her chapters… anyway) she’s classy and practical through and through, so she’s wearing tights under. and she encourages everyone to drink water and eat some real food to balance out the alcohol and churam.

Love dresses up as a fairy (because she has Tinkerbell energy). it’s easy enough to put together — a little pastel dress (of which she has dozens) and some wings, which she can make flutter with her little wisps of air. she’d make a dramatic entrance by floating down the stairs. Dain is probably a little anti-Halloween in the sense of it being “impractical” and “for children”, because there is no whimsy or fun allowed in the Aetos household, but when he sees how happy Love is, he’s on board. like Garrick, he’s into the dress and the wings, but he has the restraint not to drag her away from the party.

Sweetheart doesn’t want to stand out too much. she’s probably not going to dress up. or if she did, it would be something simple. maybe she’s another black cat with Spark — Liam plays that sunshine role for both of these withdrawn, “cold” girls. she hangs back at the edges of the party most of the night (with Xaden!) and watches it all unfold.

Sunny is also one that’s stumping me right now. she wouldn’t have any impractical clothes or shoes to wear, so she’d have to borrow something from one of the girls or make something herself. she spends a lot of the time bartending for the party, as she’s experienced in that. Aaric stays closeby the whole time, helping her, even though he has no idea what he’s doing. he probably didn’t dress up — he doesn’t seem very whimsical.

[kckt88]

Rooks Rest & The Silver King.

Summary:

The dragons dance and a Regent is crowned.

Warning(s): Swearing, Dragon Battle, Injuries, Blood, Anger, Resentment, Argument, Smut, Rough P in V sex.

Word Count: 3020.

Author Note: A companion piece to Wedding & Consummation/Bath Time/Arrival(s)/Mother & Father/Petitions & Final Tributes/The Hand, The King & The Dragon/Dragonstone/Blood & Cheese/A Time for Grief/The Gullet/Taking of a City/Harrenhal and the Rivers/The Gods Eye, The Fallen Queen & New Beginnings.

But can be read as a one-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Picture credit: Battle at Rook's Rest by Kamil Winczewski @hive_mind_3ddesigns

Aemond stretched his arms across the bed and panicked when his hand met the cold empty space next to him.

“Vaera” said Aemond as he shot up, looking wildly around the room.

“Husband”

Aemond looked towards the lounge area and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Vaera and Rhaegar sitting together, eating breakfast.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” asked Aemond as he clambered out of bed and pulled on some breeches and a loose tunic.

“I didn’t want to disturb you” replied Vaera.

“Daddy. Sit” said Rhaegar patting the seat next to him.

Aemond smiled slightly as he sat next to Rhaegar, who was busy colouring.

“What are you drawing?” asked Aemond curiously.

“A picture for Aemon. Mama said we could put it in his special place” replied Rhaegar.

Aemond took Vaera’s hand and squeezed it tight.

“Are you, ok?”

“I’m ok” replied Vaera quietly.

Since she had almost thrown herself from a window in the Red Keep, it had taken some time for Vaera to come back to herself.

Aemond and Rhaegar were a constant presence by her side. Helping her during her darkest days. Where they would curl up together in their chambers and hold each other until the darkness ebbed.

Even though his ashes had been entered into the great sept. Aemond had a special plaque made in the gardens for Aemon. Despite his desire to be just like his father, Aemon always loved the gardens, especially when he would chase after Rhaegar the pair of them would roll on the grass together giggling.

It gave Vaera a sense of comfort, as she would often spend hours just sitting in front of Aemon’s plaque talking and reading his favourite book.

Her other salvation came in the form of Cannibal.

Her fiercely loyal dragon who gracefully took to the skies with his rider and flew for as long as they both needed too. Sometimes Brightfyre would accompany them, the dark blue scales of Aemon’s dragon shimmering in the sunlight as he broke through the clouds, chirping expectantly at Cannibal who had no qualms about keeping his hatchling in line as he would often throw a customary snarl in his direction.

But the war between the Greens and the Blacks still raged.

Aemond was still no closer to discovering what had happened to Lucerys and the realm was up in arms over the murders of Jaehaerys and Aemon.

Something had to change, Daemon still held Harrenhall and Rhaenyra remained holed up on Dragonstone.

Aegon had grown tired of his grandsire’s inaction and lack of progress, so he removed him from his position as Hand of the King and temporarily promoted Ser Criston Cole instead.

The former Kings guard offered a more aggressive strategy.

One that involved Aegon, Aemond and their dragons. Vaera offered to help but it was imperative that she remain in Kings Landing.

Her Cannibal was the second largest dragon in the world, and he would provide an ample defence should the need arise.

In addition to the dragons Vhagar and Sunfyre, Aegon and Criston marched out of King's Landing with 100 knights, 500 men-at-arms, and three times as many sells words: thus about 2,400 in total. The forced addition of men from Rosby and Stokeworth would have increased this to slightly under 3,000 men by the time they reached Duskendale.

First they reached Rosby and Stokeworth, whose lords were Blacks but had been captured in King's Landing during the initial coup, and agreed to bend the knee in order to spare their own lives. Having secured their submission, Aegon’ s host passed bloodlessly through both castles and even added their strength to his own.

During the sack of Duskendale, Lord Gunthor Darklyn was beheaded for treason. Most of his household knights submitted to King Aegon, although a few loyal knights decided to follow Gunthor in death.

Then they marched to Rooks Rest, where a trap was set for the Blacks.

Lord Staunton closed the gates of Rook's Rest, but he was unable to prevent Criston from burning his fields or killing his smallfolk and livestock. He asked for assistance from Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen by sending a raven to Dragonstone.

Nine days later, Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was, and her dragon, Meleys, the Red Queen, arrived above Rook's Rest to aid Lord Staunton.

However, Criston was prepared and had his archers and scorpions fire at Meleys. The dragon was largely unharmed by these attacks, and she responded by burning Criston's soldiers with dragon fire.

Meleys was then attacked by King Aegon atop Sunfyre and Aemond atop Vhagar. The aerial combat between the two dragons of the Greens and the one dragon of the Blacks not only saw the death of the Red Queen Meleys but Rhaenys and Aegon were severely injured.

Aemond, Criston, and the surviving Greens took Rook's Rest and killed Lord Staunton and his garrison of one hundred soldiers.

Rhaenys was sent back to Driftmark to recover from her injuries and Aegon was carried back to Kings Landing atop Vhagar with an injured Sunfyre returning to the dragon pit.

The severed heads of Lord Staunton and Meleys were paraded through the streets of Kings Landing in a show of the Greens victory over the Blacks.

Vaera however grateful that her grandmother Rhaenys had managed to survive, did not take too kindly to the treatment of her dragon Meleys.

“You are the rider of the mighty Vhagar, the last living remnant of Aegon’s conquest, how could you desecrate the symbol of our house in such a manner” snarled Vaera.

“I did what needed doing. She would have killed Aegon”.

“But to parade the head of my grandmothers dragon through the streets of Kings Landing as some sort of trophy. It’s sick” said Vaera.

“That dragon was responsible for the deaths of hundreds when she burst through the floor of the dragon pit, the people of Kings Landing need to see their King defending them”.

“Whatever you say Aemond” retorted Vaera as she hauled Rhaegar into her arms and stormed out of the room, leaving an irritated Aemond in her wake.

During the battle of Rooks Rest, Aegon suffered a number of burns and had broken his leg and arm.

He was far too injured to properly serve the realm as its King.

So, the decision was made to crown Aemond as regent until Aegon recovered.

Vaera stood with Rhaegar as she watched Criston place the conquerors crown on Aemond’s head.

As he sat on the Iron Throne, the Lords present lowered themselves to one knee and pledged their support to Aemond Prince Regent of the Seven Kingdoms.

In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, the Red Keep, had become so eerily quiet. No mindless gossip or laughing children running through the corridors.

No words were spoken as the people of Kings Landing held their breath to see if King Aegon would survive his injuries.

Before this, on the nights when sleep would escape them, when Aemond was still a constant presence in their chambers, the nights when he had been demanding, ravenous and insatiable.

The nights when his slender fingers moved over the soft womanly curves of her body, the nights where he would nestle himself between her thighs and press his mouth against her hot wet cunt, her breathless moans echoing around their chambers.

But those nights were nothing more than a faded memory. Aegon’s injuries, and the deaths of Aemon and Jaehaerys had cast a dark cloud over the Red Keep.

Now, Vaera could count on one hand, the dwindling number of times she had seen her husband in the wake of the Council naming him Prince Regent in his brother’s stead.

Vaera cannot stop the resentment that forms deep inside her as she watches him get dressed.

The scalding wretched blackened thing that slithers and coils in her stomach like a snake as he presses a brief kiss her cheek before he leaves, slipping seamlessly from their chambers like the ghost he was.

She almost despises it, this nameless ugly thing that has robbed a husband from his wife and a father from his son.

This thing that keeps taking and taking, even more still.

The deep-seated resentment continues to grow and fester even as he slips into the bed behind her sometime during the night, pressing his body against hers, before drifting off almost immediately after looping his arms around her.

Sometimes she would remove herself from his grasp and go sleep in the nursery with Rhaegar. Night after night she would lie staring at the ceiling wishing her husband would pay her some semblance of attention.

But the crown weighed heavy and the responsibility even heavier still.

One night after seeing Rhaegar to bed, she finds Aemond sitting silently in their chambers, staring into the fire.

"Husband" said Vaera, watching as Aemond flinched at the bite in her voice.

The urge to snap at him grows and festers like a wound.

Yet before she can utter a word, a flash of crimson catches her attention.

Vaera’s eyes flick to the side briefly to see his crown, the crown that belonged to his brother, placed on top of her vanity table, the ruby twinkling at her as it caught the low glow emitted from the fire.

Vaera stands over the crown, staring down at the blackened metal. Every time she sees it, the uglier it becomes, this relic of long dead Kings, the beginning of the Targaryen dynasty.

It paled in comparison to the crown her grandsire Viserys once wore.

This thing was as dark as a shadow, all consuming, sweeping over the Red Keep and everyone in its path. Leaving no room for the light.

The longer she looks at it, the more she loathes it. This object that has stolen her husband and deprived Rhaegar of his father.

She’d had enough.

“All you care about is that damn crown” snapped Vaera.

“What?” asked Aemond his single amethyst eye widening.

“You heard me. This thing, this ugly disgusting crown. You care more about that, than you do me or your son” snarled Vaera as she took hold of the crown and launched it across the room.

The clang of metal hitting the wall, echoed around their chambers.

“Everything I do is for you and Rhaegar” snarled Aemond as he rose sharply from his chair.

“Yeah right. You’ve been far too preoccupied with those insufferable pricks on the council to even notice me or Rhaegar” retorted Vaera.

“I have a duty to the realm, I cannot fail” said Aemond.

“But you’ll happily fail in your duty as a husband and father” quipped Vaera.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT” shouted Aemond his lip curling.

“No how dare you. Ever since that fucking crown touched your head, me and Rhaegar have been nothing but an afterthought to you” snarled Vaera.

“That’s not true”.

“Yes, it bloody well is. Haven’t you noticed that Rhaegar no longer calls for you to read to him at bedtime, or how he never asks you to take him to see Valaerys anymore?” said Vaera.

“I didn’t ask for this” exclaimed Aemond as he wrenched off his eyepatch and threw it on the chair.

“Didn’t refuse it though, did you?” snapped Vaera.

“How could I? Aegon is injured. Jaehaerys is dead, and Maelor is naught but a child. I’m next in line for the throne. I have to be the one to wear the crown”.

“Even if at the cost of your wife and son?” asked Vaera.

“What do you mean?”.

“You don’t care about us. All you’ve ever wanted is that crown and now you have it. I hope it was worth it” said Vaera.

“Worth it?” questioned Aemond.

“It cost Aemon and Jaehaerys their lives. It might even claim the life of your brother and yet you still clamour for it like a desperate child wanting to be fed” said Vaera.

“How can you even say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. Maybe if your grandsire wasn’t so relentless in advancing Aegon as heir, this might not have happened. Aemon might still be alive. Jaehaerys might still be alive and Luke-“ said Vaera.

“-I thought you understood. Aegon is the first-born son, the Throne was his by right”.

“What if I was my mother’s heir instead of Jacaerys? What if I was in line for the Throne? Would you still be saying the same then? Or would you snatch your own sons birth right from under him?” screamed Vaera.

“It’s irrelevant. You are not your mother’s heir. She passed you over in favour of that strong bastard boy of hers” replied Aemond.

“I will take Rhaegar and leave Kings Landing. Leave you and your fucking crown”.

“YOUR NOT FUCKING GOING ANYWHERE” snarled Aemond viciously.

“Going to stop me, are you? How exactly are you going to do that when you barely pay me any attention. I bet you wouldn’t even notice that I’d gone” balled Vaera.

“You will not leave me. You will not take my son” ordered Aemond as he drew himself to his full height and stared down at his wife, his lip curling.

"I will fly my Cannibal across the narrow sea and you will never see either of us again" threatened Vaera as she stood against Aemond, her body pressed against his.

"NO YOU WON'T!"

“I shall and you will never-“ stuttered Vaera as Aemond suddenly lunged forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Vaera ripped herself away from Aemond. Staring at him as she put a hand to her mouth.

The resentment swirling in the pit of her stomach was now morphing into something else. The dormant fire of their relationship was roaring to life once more. Coursing through her body.

One kiss, that was all it took. She needed more. She needed him.

Suddenly Vaera wrapped her arms around Aemond's neck and drew him in back in.

Their kiss was rough and vicious. Consisting of teeth and tongue.

It had been so long since they’d shared any form of intimacy.

Aemond backed Vaera towards the bed, his hands tearing off her shift until it was a ragged mess on the floor.

It was an eruption of frustration and passion. Hands everywhere, grabbing, scratching, and pulling at one another.

Aemond took a brief minute to yank off his tunic and shirt before he shoved Vaera on the bed, her back colliding with the mattress with a soft thump.

His body covered hers as he sucked and licked the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Vaera moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

Aemond pulled away to unfasten his breeches and push them down, freeing his hard cock.

Vaera lay back on the bed, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

Aemond runs his hand up and down the length of himself, eyeing his wife with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she parts her legs for him.

As he guides himself to her entrance, she barely has a moment to adjust before he is pressing his cock forcefully inside and stretching her brutally, causing her to cry out.

“FUCKING TAKE IT!” spits Aemond, wrapping a hand around her throat while the other digs into her hip, pulling her aggressively against him to meet each one of his hard thrusts.

Vaera can’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts that greet her, causing her to wail and moan, causing tears form in her eyes, before running down her cheeks.

Aemond sets a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers.

“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Vaera.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.

As Aemond’s hips begins to falter in their movements, Aemond snakes a hand between their joined bodies, his long fingers expertly circling her pearl, causing heat to bloom in her stomach.

He presses down more firmly, making faster movements against her bud making her shudder, as a sudden warmth crashes over her in waves making her cry out, her cunny tightening around him.

“AEMOND!!” screams Vaera as her hands claw at his back.

“Fuck!! baby, that’s it come all over my cock!” growls Aemond as he moves to grab the headboard, bracing himself as he continues to pound his hips against hers.

“A-Aemond” gasped Vaera.

With a loud animalistic groan, Aemond stills, leaning over his wife, his cock pulsating as he spills his seed deep inside her.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” asked Aemond quietly as he observed the reddened marks that littered his wife’s pale skin.

“No” whispered Vaera, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Y-Your crying” muttered Aemond.

“I-I’m not crying because I’m hurt. I-I’m sorry for what I said” whispered Vaera as she pressed her face into Aemond’s side.

“Vaera” exclaimed Aemond, wrapping his arms around his wife’s shaking form.

“I would never leave you and take Rhaegar. I just feel like I’m losing you. Ever since Aegon was crowned everything has gone wrong” sniffed Vaera.

“I know” murmured Aemond pressing his lips to Vaera’s head.

“We’ve lost Aemon and Jaehaerys. Luke’s dead and we don’t know if Aegon will recover. Your grandsire said crowning Aegon would prevent a war, but it started one” replied Vaera.

“We had no other option. If your mother took the crown, she would have killed us”.

“Y-You don’t know that for sure” whispered Vaera.

“Yes, I do. Her rule as Queen would never be stable, there would always be discord and calls for Aegon to be King. He is Viserys’ first-born son. In order to secure the throne for herself, she would have to put us to the sword. Then there’s Jacaerys, a known bastard. Do you really think the realm would accept him as King once your mother passed” said Aemond firmly.

Vaera shook her head, she knew what Aemond was saying was right. War was inevitable.

“We need to be together in this Vaera. We cannot be divided any longer” urged Aemond.

“I know” muttered Vaera sadly.

“You and Rhaegar are my sole reason for existing. I would gladly lay down my life if it meant the both of you were safe”.

“No. Aemond” sobbed Vaera desperately clinging to Aemond.

“I just need you to know how much you and Rhaegar mean-”.

“-Love you so much” said Vaera.

“I love you too” replied Aemond.

[akiramona]

Non-human SSO designs dump

Welp--- Today I drew the umm... how I imagine the aliens and extradimensional beings in SSO :> Or I mean... disclaimer xD i CAN'T stress enough how much more i would like to know about the Dark Riders to draw their designs properly IF THEY'RE ALIENS TwT like are they even the same type of alien?? No clue alright--- so i decided to picture how i feel it ^^ i'll make notes to it accordingly--- *cough cough* tada!

Now I know what you're thinking, it's a bit empty, it's a bit muddled because of how small it is--- which is because i made the canvas with the intention to compare the size to something else---

My design opinion for a long time about Garnok was that he is too fleshy of an alien--- if Aideen brought life to Jorvik, she's the embodiment of it... so i decided to redesign Garnok into something really "out of this world"--- a 2D puddle of shapes in a 3D environment :> His generals kind of mimic that design like... they look like their human selves but if you were to put them in a similar environment as Garnok is in, they would start to dematerialise too :D I also noted in the dark riders post that i didn't like that Garnok is so pink (since--- Aideen's magic is also coded in pink so unless they wind up to be the same entity or something like Marika and Radagon and i am making a fool of myself here xD) so i added a bit more colour to him--- like i think it might be that the shapes are starting to catch pink due to Pandorian energy xD

Oh and speaking of Pandoria...

Since Ydris is really the only pandorian we know to date (except for Zee but i couldn't land on good shapes for her ^^) i kinda had to jur reverse engineer this design. Like we know pandorian's have masks and the only creatures we've seen in pandoria were shadow-seekers and those cliché manta rays--- so i added a bit of both to my design... I think i'll be using this as my default for designing pandorians in the future (i have an OC, wink wink, nudge nudge ;3) It is very likely bro will just be a masked humanoid in pandoria, but i really like to think of Pandorians as beings UNRESTRICTED BY SHAPE OR FORM and such xD

I would really love to do something more with these designs i had in my head for a while but erm... this will have to do for now ^^"

I'd love to hear opinions of these--- are they good? are they bad? are they ugly? xD And what's your take on the creature design for them? Idk, i have read neither of the books so... i'd love to hear the take of someone who has and has some inside info on this 👀

[adriwatchestoku]

Gavv ep13

I have been hearing SO MUCH about later episodes that I'm like no, do not Consume, you do not have the mental facilities to do so right now

plus I have other things I want to do today like edit the first chapter of a Build fic and maybe draw some Gavv stuff

yes, here's the Kamen Rider buddy tax.

it's like… shouma, you should tell hanto, but I also completely understand because fuck if his reaction to being saved instead of you killing the granute was aimed at you instead

I still have some anger at Dente being like "oh but you two were neglected so you wouldn't get pressed" because jfc that's fucked up, but at the same time like… he really does want to keep Shouma safe and help him despite that really fucked up view on what Shouma's dad did

Suga being a granute… honestly, that's a solid idea. It'd explain how Suga know so fucking much

"he'd never willingly work with one" if he knew. I mean, I've watched Build. I've thirsted over Evolt I mean I've thirsted over Evolt I mean I've seen Evolt pretend to be Souichi and thirst- you get what I'm saying, Suga could be pretending to be human

"oh you mean you thirsted over the human form" no, I know what I'm about.

every time I see Shouma's terrible attempt at patching Hanto up I'm like… Sachika, come help your hapless younger brother!

okay I didn't notice the fluids coming off Hanto's face when he was saying he won't forgive any granute before. I thought at first that was spit, and it looks now more like a tear, but like… either fits

"might be having some memory issues" …………………………………… NYELV GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE WE'VE SEEN YOU MODIFY OTHER GRANUTES

I mean this could just be trauma based on something that happened to Hanto's mom, or something Shouma's dad had Dente do, but I would not put it past Nyelv.

"I mean, you didn't even remember me!" "Do you remember my name?" "uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i'm so old I shouldn't be asked these questions uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" you don't remember lmao

ohhhhh the look of "can I trust my own memories?"

Shouma's absolutely wonder and happiness at a new snack never gets old

look at all those gochizo. hello babies, go meet your siblings

okay so I thought what Shouma's childhood was like was cruel before. Yeah, no, being able to see Shiita and Jeebh have a happy birthday is on another level

oh… oh he tried to love them. His heart really is that big.

okay, the gochizos welcoming their new siblings was cute

that too sweet smile… fuck, the cost it came at just keeps getting higher

jfc no really Lango what do you have planned and Nyelv THIS IS WHAT I MEAN

Hanto is such an interesting character. hot headed secondary rider archetype, but also someone who is capable of thinking things through and coming up with good plans

And being able to give reasons for them like wanting to publish an article on granutes so people are aware of them. But I can see paranoia setting in among the masses if they learn they can blend in with humans

"okeydoke!" falls over the edge

gochizos are so. fucking. cute

oh boy, baking. the science that requires some art.

oh right, Shouma can be a hell of a klutz

he's trying so hard

"i picture the person I'm making it for. I want them to be happy" oh boy this is either going to be sad (his mom), cute (sachika), or gay (hanto)

we're going with cute, i see

oh kid. Shouma. Baby.

it's always fun to see Hanto's strengths at gathering information

and also see him be a dark spot among this brightly coloured aesthetic

oh damn I knew the tongue had to come out but that startled me

………………………….. wat

what is this fight

what

the shit is this

so has anyone watched Meet the Pyro before because that's what that sequence reminded me of

switched to… could just take the human…

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

oh shit, so yeah, you could have taken Hanto's mom, and maybe even helped with kidnapping Shouma's mom

oh that's a cute new form

TOEI WHEN IS THE KAMEN RIDER SPECTACLE FIGHTER

holy shit these two are brutal fighters

fuck

[daphnebowen]

@rinacentral event one: favorites!!

this will basically be a mess of things I've found on Pinterest including comparisons, tweets, drawings, etc so bear with me! (bear? bare? idk anymore English is hard)

image 1: I just think it's funny that rina and rini are compared so much when in my humble opinion rina was MADE for each other. everything in the first three seasons was set up. rini walked so rina could fly.

image 2: imo, the rini and rina comparisons are 🙅🏼‍♀️ not valid because two completely different people, completely different times, completely different relationships yet there are similarities but who lasted longer? who's more intentional and more pure and more everything? rina. thank you.

image 3: tangled is one of my absolute favorite Disney movies ever and flynn rider is my dream guy and comparing them to rina just makes my heart happy. both of their love is so pure and so wholesome it just 😍😍

image 4: this image is 😘 because the way Ricky looks at Gina doesn't change. no matter what she's wearing, what circumstances they're in, his love is so big for her nothing can hide it. fake dating, not dating at all, madly in love, doesn't matter; he's so puppy eyed and over the moon for his girl. and I just love that for him.

image 5: okay I love this one because a) rina chemistry is ON POINT like the soulful stares I'm sorry but b) ASHLYN. she is Gina's sister. her best friend, dare I say it? ash has probably heard so much pining and complaining from Gina about Ricky being dumb, being ignorant, not realizing his feelings or how he was ignoring and hurting her at the time. Ashlyn is Gina's number one confidant, in my mind. and so to have her recognize their look and know, immediately, what is going on is so special to me. so shout out to Ashlyn too!! 💕

image 6: forever. FOREVER. FOR FREAKING EVER. I'm sorry, thirty seconds into meeting each other and one walks away with a lasting impression of unremarkable dam that girl was cool and the other walks away with a gut instinct of maybe this is where I find where I belong. and the way they pulled each other closer UNINTENTIONALLY pulls my heartstrings 💗 and also, the way Gina entered the theater program looking for a home. for a family. and got so much more than she bargained for, and while she did find her friends in Ashlyn and Kourtney and Carlos she also found her home (a sacred kind of home 😌) in Ricky. and while Ricky walked into theater for ulterior motives he ended up finding that home and that family too. and to get all that and more from a minute and a half conversation with someone you've never met before is pure romance to me. watch out Romeo and Juliet 😜

image 7: I loved how Ricky and Gina got closer over season three. because while they started out awkward and near strangers because of ej and everything Ricky had/hadn't done over the course of the last semester you could tell. both of them wanted it back, badly. and they fought for it because you can't deny the incredible chemistry and the incredibly feelings and friendship they have for each other. season 3 was so special in the way you can see them grow closer all the while dealing with their own drama. because even in the darkness of each others problems Ricky and Gina have always managed to find their way back to each other - their light. 💡

image 8: for the longest time I didn't understand the point of "say yes to something that scares you." and really, it was Gina all along! Ricky was absolutely terrified of what his feelings for Gina truly meant (doesn't he say this at some point) and also terrified of losing her if she didn't feel the same. he knew it was going to be hard and he knew he was going to have to fight for it and he knew it was going to be the biggest change, the biggest curveball, life was possibly going to throw at him. but he said YES. he said yes to all that, to taking risks, to exploring something unknown and unexplored before, and that is so so special because while Gina didn't scare Ricky, the idea of her - of rina - did. of what they could be. of what they could become. and after their journey of the ups and downs and lefts and rights and all that life had to throw their way, he said yes. Gina said yes. and I love the way they conquered everything in season four together.

anyways, this was really long and the images really don't mean anything, they just give me an excuse to ramble, so thanks for reading! made event one just in time 🤪 RINA FOREVER! ♾️ ❤️🤍

[gx-gameon]

Episode 39

Okay one thing I really love about Gx is it hard commutes to the idea of a duel spirit world. I didn’t realize just how early that commutes to it. Like it’s mentioned in DM. But I love that all the different archetypes in Gx have like their own mini part of the spirit world and how much the Spirit world is crossing over. (Again this school is on a ley line)

Atticus is moving

The fact that all the dark scorpions are just hang out on campus and have been doing jobs there is actually really fun

Chazz sleeping with ear plugs is such a move.

Chazz going detective mode is so fun especially since he used his Ojama cards as spy’s. I love that the weak spirits he was so embarrassed by are now helping him and he’s proudly declaring it.

Anytime someone plays ‘themselves’ cures my depression. It’s so silly. All these people just ran into the field.

They also just attacked Chazz with real weapons

They all just ran off the field. This is so ridiculous

The Obama brothers just chilling on their field so they can’t run back out.

And the first time we get Ojama King. I love how much Chazz has taken to the Ojama cards

“Chazz seemed concerned. Wonder why?” It’s because he just gained 5 new roommates which explains the earbuds.

For someone who is so embarrassed by taking to spirits. He sure takes in a lot of strays. Like these were Shadow Riders he could have thrown them down the well but he kept them and gave them a home.

It’s a crime this isn’t the Chazz we have by season 3 (he hasn’t changed he just doesn’t get to shine) having him Jaden and Jesse running around with spirits would have been an event.

Oh well that’s what post cannon arcs are for.

Episode 40

It’s the Egyptian Pharaoh episode

The little hand drawn pictures of Yugi and Seto in Professor Banner’ official presentation to his class made me laugh so loud I scared my dog. Like my dude there are so many pictures of them you could have used. Why did you hand draw them?

Jaden had to listen to his class thirst for his dads and uncles and aunts. Some kid just called out Mai Valentine and Jaden has to be rolling his eyes so hard

They just brought up ancient Egypt and the ‘best duelist’ and Jaden is ready for Atem’s name. The Ishtar family had been working hard to reveal the true history of Duel monsters and Egypt so his Uncles first life had gotten some fame to it.

But they pull out Abidos, someone Jaden has never heard of, and say he was undefeated? Jaden is absolutely texting Atem later to ask about this guy.

Okay Jaden and Chazz are brothers. Chazz just sassed him with “sure and then you’d beat Yugi and Kaiba to.” And Jaden just played it straight and teased Chazz till he gets put in ahead lock. This is peak brother behavior

Alexis and Zane are still each other confidants. I wish this continued on later seasons. Their season 1 relationship is so cute.

They were just attacked by mummies.

Never mind he doesn’t have to text Atem because he and his friends just got spirited away on Abidos’s spirit ship.

Sigh…Why does everyone have to make a sexist remark to Alexis.

Jaden instantly volunteering to duel.

Chazz “ya ya it’s not our first shadow game.” And the. Throwing Jaden Syrus’s duel disk. (Once again peak brothers)

Jaden is being so disrespectful. He grew up around a pharaoh. It’s hard to look at a Pharaoh as a god on earth when he’s seen Atem when he’s sleep deprived and isn’t processing anything. He knows they are human.

He just stabbed Jaden with a spear.

Love all the H.E.R.O. Cards in this duel.

Jaden is so happy to be playing. This man has talked down to him the whole time and just got his deck mocked as weak. But hes just here for a good time and a challenge

Which Abidos is not providing. “You can’t attack me!” Oh baby no one ever actually played with you did they? Flashback confirmed.

Jaden, you sweet boy. “Let’s start your first real duel right now!” He’s so nice to him.

Ohh Jaden just got hit hard.

Jaden compliments him and his dueling right before he beats him.

“I was thinking you could come back with me. Your to good for this place. Come back with me to my kingdom (the afterlife) and I promise you power and fame.” All while holding his hand. Abidos met someone who finally treated him like a regular person and wanted to play and proposed to him because that is what that is.

(Chazz’s only concern being that he can have Jaden’s room. Absolute sibling coded)

Jaden absolutely called Atem after this and told him everything that happened. Atem knew off Abidos. He is older than Atem and he had heard all about the dueling fake from his father and court. It was a cautionary tale to the royal family to always make sure their strength was true. Abidos was luck to rule at a time when Egypt was peaceful.

Hearing that the man came to this world and fought Jaden is concerning but no more so than any of the other shadow riders.

No the concerning part is that this man proposes to Jaden and offered to take him to the afterlife. If he had the magic power to get to the realm of the living he could absolutely drag Jaden to the afterlife. What would they have done if Abidos didn’t take Jaden’s no as an answer?

Atem reaches out to Mahad and asks him to seek out Abidos in the afterlife. Wanting to make sure this won’t be a problem later.

Abidos is in the Egyptian afterlife but his time period is in a different spot than Atem and his father. (They’re like neighboring kingdoms that way all the pharaoh family’s kinda have their own setup.)

Abidos is sitting there pinning and wondering how he can insure that Jaden will come to the Egyptian afterlife. He doesn’t want to speed up his friends journey through life or shorten it. But he doesn’t want to make sure Jaden chooses to come to the Egyptian afterlife.

Mahad and Mana’s visit is the best possible thing for him. They know Jaden? Jaden has a connection to Egypt? Jadne has family in Egypt? This is the best news ever.

Long story short Abidos starts hanging around with Aknamkanon and Atem’s court. They all watch over Jadne together. Aknamkanon and the court are thrilled to have someone around who has met and dueled Jaden. Abidos is pumped to have people who know Jaden and to have a way to watch over him. He also starts learning how to duel from Set, Mahad, Mana, and Aknamkanon. He wants to be a challenge for Jaden when he arrives. He has the time to train and he’s going to use it. (He might also need to challenge some people to a duel for Jaden but that’s another conversation that won’t matter till the Gx cast is dead)

Episode 41

Finally an Atticus and Alexis episode!!

Baby Alexis and Atticus designs

Sigh. Alexis has been kidnapped again.

Zane cradling Atticus is wild. So cute.

Crowler thinking this is happening because he never paid titan. This is great.

Alexis is back. She’s dueling for her brother memory. I love seeing her shine finally

Titan is a real shadow duelist now and Alexis is surrounded by darkness so she can’t see his field which is a nice gimmick

We are in episode 41 and it’s Alexis’s first Shadow duel. I love all the Jaden content but can we let the other cast members do something??

Atticus reaching for Alexis because they can’t see her as Jaden supports him. Very sweet.

Alexis don’t just give up. Thank you for calling out Atticus. Love the sibling dynamics

The shadow creatures that come to eat him are super disturbing and the kids all just watched that and were like ya that just happened… moving on.

They bing up the other missing students in season 4 right. Because like Atticus just said he went with several students but he’s to only one backs

Also the reveal that Professor banner is in on the madness is a great reveal.

I will say this episode is another on that really highlights the differences between GX and DM.

In DM when the gang couldn’t see Yugi’s duel against Pegasus they used their ‘power of friendship’ to protect Yugi from Pegasus shadow magic. Which is silly but like at least they did something. The Gx cast will just stand there and make witty banter or talk crap. About Jaden about the opponent.

In battle city when Mai and Joey had their shadow games Yugi/Atem did everything they could to be present and supportive. Atem even used his own body to block the blast from hitting Mai and Joey. so to see Alexis in a dark bubble and all of the cast just standing there like ‘well wait this out.’ Is a super different vibe. There isn’t a lot they could do but they are also not really trying anything. Tristian ran into the shadow bubble to try and get to Yugi.

It’s just different which is a good and bad things.

The bonds in Gx just aren’t as strong as the DM cast of the 5Ds cast. Like it’s no wonder season 3 happens.

I am happy that someone beside Jaden finally fought and won against the shadow riders. Way to go Chazz and Alexis

[starsaparilla]

you said you wanted asks so i must ask

1) do you have a courier oc? like, an actual character.

2) thoughts about christine and veronica (and Christine staying in Sierra Madre)?

3) what's one character you wish had been a companion but wasn't? and why and how would their quests go idk im shy despite asking on anon 😔💔

1) yes!! i have a couple.. i make new ones depending on the run i’m doing or the faction im siding with etc but for my current playthrough (neutral karma independent vegas) i have cherry!! she’s super cool… i like her lots. nepo baby that wants to run vegas herself as a way to get back at her family for disowning her (long story) + learns about love and friendship and kindness and also backstabbing along the way! i can’t draw so i mostly make pinterest boards for characters but yeah… i love my ocs. trying to flesh out the rest of her family at the minute too bc they were (to me) pretty prominent figures in the wasteland until around 50 or so years before the events of new vegas!!

2) christine and veronica are so dear to me!!! canon lesbians in a video game… i do wish they didn’t fall into the trappings of gays with unhappy endings but yk. 2010 so i suppose it was par for the course. as for christine staying in the sierra madre i have mixed feelings- ultimately i like it narratively, i think christine becoming a guardian is very fitting. the sierra madre houses vera keyes, a woman who had her life derailed and destroyed by the greed, cruelty, rivalry and jealousy of two men. in a similar vein, christine royce had her own life- and her love- uprooted and snuffe out by a cruel and greedy man too. it makes poetic sense to me that christine would stay to guard the sierra madre. christine/vera parallels are so srs to me and i would definitely go into way more detail at another point but im trying to keep this concise because you didn’t ask to be blasted with my dead money brainrot. anyway also i find it oddly beautiful that a place with such a dark past can perhaps become a safe haven like it should always have been now that christine is there. my one issue is that there’s no option to inform veronica of where christine is or anything but i know this was due to technical limitations and nothing else so i don’t harp on the devs too much for this.

3) benny maybe… i think doing an independent run with benny as the companion makes soooo much sense and i do think an ending where you both take vegas is super fun. but i have the benny companion mod so i don’t think he counts as an answer here for me personally. in terms of what would be best for gameplay id say a legion companion would be interesting as while i dont play legion nor do i like them, i think its a shame they’re underdeveloped. victor as a companion could be rlly fun! good for a house run and id love a securitron companion anyway :) id also love to port ulysses to the main game as a companion 💔💔💔 and then obvious popular answer sunny smiles my angel <3

i forgot to add quests!!! god actually i’m gonna have to think abt this one but i think for benny an interesting quest would be anything to do with the boot riders… will nvr forgive the lack of backstory we get for him in the game. legion companion could potentially involve visiting old settlements and learning about their history? it would be interesting for a legion companion to be someone disheartened with the legion’s methods, kind of like veronica (BUT NOT LIKE VERONICA) , and you can ultimately talk them into leaving (good karma) or convince them to stay with you and the legion (bad karma). i’m not sure on specifics for victor but given that he’s a cowboy likely inspired by old world western movies it could be so fun to have a quest that follows the plot of some famous western movie… big dramatic shootout at high noon. fun times. ulysses i’m split on bc i think it’s entirely contingent on how you interact with him in lonesome road and which faction you’re aligned with as there’s a lotttt of ways he can feel about you due to all of these factors that might make creating one Definitive companion quest hard. as for sunny idk. something that lets us go back to goodsprings ^_^ very last minute but i also think a great khan companion would be nice mostly bc i like the khans and the narrative is so awful to them

[blapis-blazuli]

Now listen up

I am obsessed with this man. He's got so many weird details about him and I love (almost) all of them.

First, Slim's original concept fucks. Being an undead cattle rustler out for bull's blood due to being trampled to death is fascinating. I don't know how long it took before someone at Disney cried "too dark" at that backstory, but I'm surprised it was even in consideration given the mostly lighter tone of the final product. More than that, Disney could've had a literal ghost rider among their villains! Had that movie been any good, he might've joined Disney's popular villain lineup, or maybe we could've even gotten a boss battle with him in a Kingdom Hearts game. That's not what we ended up with due to Reasons, though, which is a bit disappointing, but not much you can do about that.

Anyway, onto what we did get.

Before Slim makes his formal appearance, he's only seen in silhouette, on a wanted poster, then in disguise, and is finally fully revealed when he rides in on a bison. He is huge, and I don't mean because he's fat, I mean he's a good deal taller than most of the other characters. He's set up to be someone threatening, to be taken seriously.

And then comes his yodeling villain song.

The moment it's revealed that Slim's yodeling can hypnotize cows, the music picks up and there's a literal rainbow of colors for the rest of his number. As I said, he's a big man, but he's also light enough on his feet to dance and jump on and off any of these cows while not missing a beat in his performance. When the men who got knocked out beforehand come running after him, he doesn't threaten them, he just throws his spurs at a precarious bit of rocky landscape with such force that it falls and blocks the pathway to him. That's more badass than if he did draw his gun on them.

Actually, I wanna talk about the music he performs. The movie's set in Wyoming during 1889, so obviously Slim's not gonna be yodeling A Cruel Angel's Thesis or whatever. They could’ve come up with something original for him to yodel to (which, I mean, they kinda do), but they chose music by composers such as Tchaikovsky and Beethoven, which aren't exactly things you'd associate with the wild west. The obvious out-of-universe answer for why those pieces were chosen is "they existed before the year this is set in, and they're recognized even today," but we've no in-universe answer for why he chose them or how he knows them. Regardless, it's kinda amazing that he knows them well enough to yodel them.

His lair in Echo Mine has an area with some nice furniture in it. How'd this shit get there? Who knows. Anyway, this is where he reveals that he disguises himself to buy up the properties owned by the people he's stolen cattle from, which includes his former employers. Why doesn't he work for any of them anymore? He never directly says. According to him, they didn't "appreciate [his] talents," which means they probably hated his yodeling. I don't blame him for being mad about that because why the hell would you tell someone that? If he's doing the job right and well without hurting anyone, then who cares? The idea that he's moved on to use a skill against the former bosses who didn't like it is kinda great though.

(Side note: a nice, small detail about this part of the lair is the faded branding on the map, which shows that Slim has been doing this for quite a while. Shame that it's not more consistent from shot to shot though. I can't take credit for noticing this myself: my partner pointed it out after I posted a screenshot as a joke on Discord. She's so cool.)

Slim doesn't like it when someone calls his yodeling "singing": he thinks singing is beneath him given the disdain in his voice when he says that's what birds, saloon gals, and children do. No, he considers what he does to be an art. He's not entirely wrong, though: it is an impressive skill, especially since he can yodel to certain classical pieces like The William Tell Overture, Ode to Joy, Ride of the Valkyries, and The 1812 Overture. (Also Yankee Doodle, because, well, American. Also maybe Largo al factotum from The Barber of Seville, but I'm unsure of that one: unlike Slim, I am no classical music expert.) There's no need for him to be quite as defensive about it as he is, but his nephews calling it "singing," saying that might be why his bosses didn't like him, and calling yodeling "silly" is enough to make him get violently angry at them. Man's got issues.

Oh yeah, Slim has nephews. They're triplets named Gil, Phil, and Bill, and they're collectively known as The Willies. Unlike their uncle, they're all blond and thin, so god knows what Slim's unnamed and unmentioned sibling must look like.

Slim also has a bison named Junior. I'm not fond of the whole "he's too fat to ride anything else" angle of that, but I do like that they chose an animal that people are constantly told to not mess with because of how dangerous they are. Slim's not afraid of him: he's got this creature trained to listen when he calls for him. I can only guess that Slim is the one who named Junior, so maybe he also raised him. It would explain why Junior appears annoyed with him but still puts up with having Slim jump on his back and the like.

You know what Slim doesn't have though? Kids. Putting together the disdain in his voice when he mentions children, his seemingly low opinion of saloon girls, his big villain number turning the landscape into a rainbow of colors, the queer history of cowboys, and the prevalence of queer-coding in Disney villains... well, I think you get where I'm going with that.

Moving onto his disguise. Don't ask me why nobody figured out this was Slim sooner, given that his wanted poster shows they have the same facial hair, bushy eyebrows, and bags under the eyes. My best guess is because it's in black-and-white and he's in a different outfit, and unless someone's encountered him before they probably don't know what he sounds like. Anyway, His alias is Yancy O'del (yeah, I know), but the one sign we see him with has both "Mister" and "Esquire" in there.

Having looked this up, I learned a few things. First, having "Mister" and "Esquire" together isn't something you're supposed to do, yet nobody in-universe caught this. Second, in the United States, "Esquire" is a title only used for lawyers, so maybe that's why nobody questioned him - fear of a sudden lawsuit for something or other. Third, "Yancy" was not really a name used back then, or at least not a common one. Why'd he choose that name (besides for the pun)? I dunno.

(Also, where the hell does Junior stay whenever he goes to one of these auctions? The world may never know.)

Slim's final defeat at the hooves/wings/what-have-you of several farm animals is pretty pathetic, even by silly Disney villain standards, but I got to give him credit for not wanting to give up even after his disguise is (literally) blown and while he's stuck in a train's smokestack. I have no idea how he planned on getting out of that one, and whatever it was most likely wouldn't have worked anyway, but I admire his refusal to back down in the face of obvious defeat.

Even in his very last scene we see him struggling with the ropes they tied around him while he's carted off to jail. He does not give up.

Anyway, here he is picking up Small Black Market Dealer Steve Buscemi one-handed like it's nothing. (His name is Wesley, but Slim keeps calling him Mister Weasley. That's right, this movie used that joke before Frozen did.)

And here he is lifting three full-grown cows off the ground before tying them up faster than they can react to it. (The cows have names too, but this post ain't about them.)

He uses his left hand to write and aim his gun and seems just as adept with using it as much as his right, which is cool. (There's no frame with both his face and the gun, so you'll have to trust me on that.)

Speaking of his hands

Look at this huge-ass man and his pinkies, I can't with this dude

Look at that smile, sir, who gave you the right

If there were a whole movie about just these two, I'd watch it, I won't even lie.

I've gone on about this guy for probably too long by this point, so to sum it all up:

Babygirl

[dailydemonspotlight]

Dormarth - Day 105

Race: Beast

Alignment: Dark-Neutral

September 6th, 2024

Many mythological dogs fall into a set of strangely similar tropes, even beyond just the idea of them having multiple heads, as observed in the Orthrus analysis. One that I find particularly interesting, though, has to be in their common connections to death. Likely stemming from how dogs were, and still are, seen as intrinsically connected to hunting, many dogs in mythology are connected to death, the spiritual realm, and many such things. We've already seen this with the Inugami analysis earlier this week, but another curious example, and a personal favorite of mine, has to be in the Celtic Wild Hunt's goodest boy, Dormarth.

While the Wild Hunt is a demon itself in SMT, its intrinsic connection to death and the afterlife makes it a very curious topic in connection to Dormarth, also known as Dormarch, a hunting hound that joins in during said hunt. Originating in Wales, Dormarth is a beast that accompanies the riders during the Welsh version of the Wild Hunt. The Wild Hunt itself is a common motif throughout many different European mythologies and cultures, with many cultures offering their own spins on the general concept. This, naturally, leads to differing figures throughout the recurring motif, and the Welsh version has its own fair share of unique ideas, with one of them being the collection of souls of warriors to join in on the hunt, and who else does that collection than Dormarth?

The games' recollections of Dormarth are somewhat inaccurate, from what I can tell- for the most part, they paint the dog as being a guardian of the Celtic version of hell, but most actual historical references of Dormarth seem to split that between many other concepts regarding death and the afterlife. In fact, we don't really know much about Dormarth, given that the dog only appears in one passage throughout old Welsh literature, being in The Black Book of Carmarthen. The name Dormarth is also rather controversial, as the original text is somewhat fragmented, missing a letter in the name that could be either Dormarch or Dormarth, both of which carrying wholly different meanings. To quote the only reference we actually have of Dormarth,

My hound is sleek and fair, The best of hounds; Dormach he is, who was with Maelgwn. Dormach rednose – why stare you so? Because I cannot comprehend Your wanderings in the firmament.

A lot of controversy has surrounded Dormarth for years, but that's beside the point. Dormarth, as a name, seems to roughly translate to mean an 'embodiment of death,' giving light to the idea of Dormarth being just that. Combine that with Dormarth's connection to the dead due to being in the Wild Hunt, a hunt made up entirely of spirits, and one can easily draw a connection between it and Cerberus or other such guard dogs of the underworld. On top of this, though, its connection to death may also be it guiding lost souls to the underworld, or even collecting dead warriors to join in on the Wild Hunt. Language is fun like that, no?

Given that its natural habitat is described as being 'among the clouds,' being associated with the Wild Hunt, it's commonly believed that Dormarth accompanies the Wild Hunt, and observations in the Black Book of Carmarthen by one John Gwenogvryn Evans in 1906 seem to also give a physical description of the hound as being a two-legged dog with swirling fish tails behind it. Its overall role is rather unclear, as I've gone over in extensive detail, but Dormarth does seem to play a rather interesting role in the Wild Hunt overall, whether it be a guardian of the gates of Annwn (the Welsh underworld) or a hunting dog that accompanies the Wild Hunt, to even one that collects new hunters for it. With all of that, though, how's it portrayed in SMT?

I love Dormarth's design, but given everything related to the dog, it's really hard to see where a lot of the elements came from. Like, come on, where's the fish tail? Where are the only two front legs? Why is she bipedal, and why is she a girl? As strange as it is for a Dormarth design, though, I do like how it looks. She is incredibly gender, and I like the spike collar- it plays well into the whole themes of death- and helmet, which ties her (though vaguely) to the Wild Hunt. Overall, a pretty good design, though not one I quite understand for the hound of the hunt.