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mingi-s-dimples · 3 months ago

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Primal Instinct - San

KINKTOBER DAY 11, REQ. BY @arki-sha

~"Hi Bia!!! I have a Werewolf San brainrot rn because I rewatched his Warriors dance cover so I'll request a Werewolf San x Human Reader.. So, San is in a rut but he doesn't want to spend it with the reader so he was deliberately avoiding her. And when the reader decided to go to San's apartment to confront him, she found out that San was in a rut and that's were the shit happens. As for the kinks, go wild with it girl. But I would like to have some size kink as well as man handling with it. Thank youuu!!!!"

pairing: werewolf!san x human fem!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: when you decide to confront San after days of him avoiding you, unknowingly step into the lair of a werewolf in rut, you ignite a night of uncontrollable desire and primal intensity.

wc: 3.7k

warnings: werewolf!san, san is in a rut, san is damn desperate and needy, biting, marking, predator/prey kinda feeling, making out, kissing, lots of cum, two rounds, wall sex, dinner table sex, neck holding, breast fondling, manhandling, big dick!san (obvi), some mentions of slightly bleeding marks because of his biting? ex reader's lip bleeding. unprotected (boooo wrap up irl!), completely consensual, unedited, might edit later, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: THIS IS TASTYYYY I LOVE ME SOME NEEDY DESPERATE SAN OMFG. He's so rough but needy and wjiebicjwicjshx I'm going insane. My love, I took EXTRA care of this fic and I hope it's up to your expectations ! Personally I lvoed writing it and I feel like I improved a lost since I first started writing here.. ☹️❤️ I love you and tysm for being one of my loyal followers until nowww 🫂💗

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the members in any way.

The chill of autumn had started to settle in, and with it, a strange tension that had been growing in the air. You could feel it creeping into the small space you and San shared, an undercurrent that had begun subtly but now lingered like a heavy fog. The house was quieter than usual, too quiet, and it had been that way for days. You’d grown accustomed to San’s presence, his warmth and affection filling the room with a sense of home. But lately, he’d been avoiding you, pulling away in ways that left you confused and worried.

San had always been open with you, even about the most complex aspects of his life as a werewolf. You had long since come to terms with it—his otherworldly strength, his heightened senses, the way his eyes sometimes glowed in the moonlight with a predatory gleam. These were parts of him you accepted, parts you even loved. Your relationship had always been built on trust and understanding, and San had always taken extra care to make sure you felt safe, no matter what side of him you were dealing with.

But now, for the past few days, something had changed. He had started to distance himself, keeping to his room and avoiding any close contact. At first, you thought maybe he was just going through something personal, something he needed time to work through on his own. But as the days dragged on, the silence between you two became unbearable.

It wasn’t like him. San was affectionate, constantly pulling you close, holding your hand, pressing soft kisses to your forehead in moments when words weren't needed. The absence of his touch had left a cold emptiness in its wake. You missed the way he’d look at you, his gaze filled with warmth and a deep, protective love. Now, he barely looked at you at all.

The curiosity gnawed at you, mingled with concern. What could be so bad that he had to lock himself away from you? What was he hiding?

Today, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had knocked on his door earlier, only for San to mutter something about being busy. But that excuse wasn’t going to work again. You stood outside his door now, hesitating for only a second before deciding that you needed answers. You loved San too much to let this strange distance go on any longer. If something was wrong, you deserved to know what it was.

Your hand hovered over the doorknob before you pushed it open, the soft creak of the wood breaking the silence in the hallway. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tight to keep the outside world at bay. San was sitting at the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, his body rigid with tension. His sharp features were drawn tight, and even from where you stood, you could sense the storm brewing inside him.

“San?” you called softly, stepping into the room.

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, and for a brief moment, a flicker of something wild passed through his eyes before he quickly looked away, running a hand through his messy hair. “You shouldn’t be in here,” he said, his voice rougher than usual, strained.

You frowned, your concern deepening. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me for days. I just want to know what’s wrong. Did I do something?”

San’s hands clenched into fists on his knees, the muscles in his arms tensing. “It’s not you,” he muttered, his voice so low it was almost a growl. “It’s me. You need to leave, *now*.”

His words stung, but more than that, they confused you. This wasn’t like him at all. You took a tentative step closer, refusing to back down. “I’m not going anywhere, San. Please, talk to me. Whatever this is, we can figure it out together.”

He stood up abruptly, turning away from you and facing the wall. His shoulders were broad, his back muscles taut under his shirt, as if he were holding himself together by sheer force of will. “You don’t understand,” he ground out. “I’m not safe to be around right now. I’m in a rut, Y/N. The first real one I’ve had in years.”

Your eyes widened in understanding as his words sank in. You had heard about werewolf ruts before, but this was the first time you were facing it with San. A rut was intense, primal, a period when his instincts were heightened to the point of losing control. San had always been careful about managing his shifts and moods around you, but this… this was something new, something that terrified him more than anything else.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” you asked softly, stepping closer to him despite the warning in his voice.

He nodded, still facing away from you. “I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t trust myself right now.”

You could hear the pain in his voice, the guilt. He was trying to protect you from himself, but in doing so, he was shutting you out. You didn’t want that. You didn’t want him to face this alone.

Tentatively, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his back. He flinched at the touch, but he didn’t move away. Encouraged by the fact that he hadn’t pushed you aside, you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.

“I trust you,” you whispered against his back. “I know you won’t hurt me, San.”

His body trembled slightly under your touch, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle with himself, as if battling between the need to protect you and the overwhelming desire that was consuming him. Slowly, he turned around in your arms, his dark, intense eyes locking with yours. “I’m not sure if I can control myself,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You reached up, cupping his face gently in your hands. His skin was warm, almost burning under your touch. “I trust you,” you repeated softly, looking into his eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”

San let out a shaky breath, his hands coming up to grip your arms, as if grounding himself in your presence. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against yours. His breath was hot and uneven against your lips, and you could feel the restraint in every muscle of his body.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a desperate whisper.

Before you could say anything more, his lips were on yours, the kiss deep and intense, as if he were pouring all of his pent-up emotions into it. It was raw, needy, but there was still tenderness in the way his hands cradled your face, as if even now, he was holding back for your sake.

You kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer. The tension between you melted away as the kiss deepened, your bodies pressing together in a way that felt both familiar and new. His hands moved down to your waist, pulling you flush against him, but even in the heat of the moment, you could feel him trying to be gentle, trying to keep himself in check.

The kiss lingered, slow and passionate, until finally, San pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours again. His breathing was heavy, his eyes dark with unspoken emotions, but the storm inside him seemed to have calmed, at least for now.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice soft but full of gratitude.

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “I told you. I’m not afraid of you.”

San’s breath was ragged, his forehead still pressed to your shoulder as he fought to control the storm raging inside him. You felt his hands tremble against your waist, his claws teasing the edge of his control but never quite emerging. His body was all heat and tension, his breath coming faster now, more uneven.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he let his hands drift down your sides, fingers brushing along the fabric of your clothes. He gripped the hem of your shirt, his touch delicate, as if the very act of undressing you would shatter whatever fragile restraint he had left. His fingers dug into the fabric for a moment, and you felt the tension in him snap for just a second. He exhaled sharply, as if trying to talk himself out of it.

“I... I can’t,” San muttered, though his actions betrayed his words. His voice was low, raw, filled with a desperation that echoed his struggle. His hands, though trembling, began lifting your shirt, slowly revealing the skin beneath. His breath hitched at the sight, and you could feel his body tensing as his instincts warred with his will. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered, his voice thick with need, but his hands didn’t stop.

He pulled the fabric over your head with a swift motion, his touch growing bolder now, more confident. You watched as his eyes darkened further, the wolf in him creeping closer to the surface. His fingers grazed your bare skin, tracing the lines of your collarbone, down your arms, and across your waist with reverence. Every touch was electric, sending shivers through your body as he explored every inch of exposed skin.

“You’re making this so hard for me,” San growled, his voice deep and unsteady. His hands moved lower, fingers ghosting over the waistband of your pants, lingering there for a moment as he struggled to hold back. He squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenched tight. “I should stop. I should walk away.”

But neither of you moved.

Instead, he tugged at the waistband, pulling your pants down in one rough motion, the fabric slipping from your body effortlessly. His breath caught in his throat, and he took a step back, looking at you as though you were something both sacred and dangerous. His hands reached out, but they hesitated, hovering just inches from your skin, the restraint in his body trembling like a wire about to snap.

“You don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “You don’t know what it’s like... to want something so badly but know you can’t... you *shouldn’t*...” His eyes traveled over you, wild and full of conflict, as his fingers finally found your skin again. His touch was slow, lingering, as though he was trying to savor the feel of you beneath his hands before he lost all control.

His hands were everywhere at once—tracing the line of your spine, sweeping across your waist, exploring the curve of your hip, and back up to your chest. His palms were rough but gentle, his fingers trembling as they brushed your bare skin with reverence, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded. His breath was hot against your neck as he leaned in, his chest pressed against yours, and you could feel every rise and fall of his breathing, erratic and wild.

“I’m losing it,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. His forehead pressed against your collarbone, his lips brushing there, as if he couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. “I’m trying to hold back, but... I can’t, I can’t.” His words were almost a growl now, deep and rough as his hands gripped you tighter, his claws just barely grazing your skin.

You shivered as his lips traveled down the side of your neck, hot and desperate, his breath shaky as he fought to keep himself from slipping completely. His hands slid up your back, fingers tracing the lines of your body with such intensity that it felt as though he was memorizing every detail.

“I need to feel you,” he rasped, his voice filled with raw desire. His touch became more urgent, his hands pressing harder against your skin, his lips moving faster, more erratically. The restraint in him was slipping, unraveling with each passing second. His hands found your shoulders, then your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand the distance between you any longer.

He let out a low growl, his breath coming fast and ragged now. “I’m losing control,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were wild, dark with unrestrained emotion, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way he trembled against you.

And then, with a sharp inhale, something broke in him.

San’s hands gripped your waist with a sudden fierceness, pulling you tightly against him, his body pressing into yours with a desperate, wild energy. His mouth found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming, his restraint shattered completely. His hands roamed your body, no longer holding back, no longer gentle. He was wild, untamed, and you were swept up in the force of it, your body responding to his every touch as though you were made for this moment.

He growled against your lips, his breath hot and uneven. "I can't stop," he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with need. His hands gripped you tighter, as if the sensation of your skin beneath his fingers was the only thing keeping him from losing himself completely. "I can't hold back anymore."

And he didn’t.

San pushed you to the wall behind you, one hand behind your head to not hit it to the hard material. He leaned in for a kiss, his teeth grazing against your lower lip, biting it from time to time. He made it bleed, going even more insane about the taste of your lips.

"P-please... don't hold back" you said, barely above a whisper. He took your words seriously and put your hands above your head with his right hand, while his left hand took your panties off, threw them away and flew right back to your thighs. His sharp nails dug into your flesh, leaving soft, red marks all over.

"P-please forgive me.. if you get hurt by me." San said and moved his hand between your thighs, impatiently and softly hovering his fingers around, looking in your eyes. He was asking for permission. You moved yourself above his fingers and slowly let yourself down on his then, quietly moaning at his fingers finally inside you. His hands were huge, being a werewolf... even two of his fingers were stretching you the fuck out, tears forming in your eyes.

"San, voice low, almost a growl, "You have no damn idea how hard it's been to hold back, don't you?"

"San.." you breathed out, his fingers pumping in and out of you mercilessly.

San’s eyes flash with wild intensity. In an instant, his lips crash against yours, a rough, hungry kiss that leaves you breathless, tongues finding it's way and tasting every corner of your mouth.

Breaking the kiss, his breath hot against your neck, "You’re driving me insane... every part of me just wants to take you, make you mine in ways you can’t even imagine." He stopped finger-fucking you for a moment, breath hitched and your legs already trembling.

"I want all of you.. need to feel you, taste you.." he breathed out in an almost-primal tone, like you were his prey and you were his to go after.

"San, please.." you pleaded out, back softly arching against the wall, in search of any friction between your cunt and his fingers that were still resting.

"I see that you're... asking for my touch, hm?" San whined, in an almost desperate tone, basically exposing himself through his words. He was the one that wanted, needed you so bad.

"Y-yes.."

In an instant, he raised your leg up, placing it onto his hip. "I’m out of my mind with how much I need you. You'll take me right here—no hesitation, no waiting." he said as he raised your leg a bit, left your hands alone and fully thrusted in you, lubed up from your own arousal. He was fucking you against the wall, your hands reaching for his shoulder, holding on for dear life. Your legs were trembling, his long and girthy cock stretching you good as it always did.

"Fuck.. you feel so good.." he said as he rammed into you wildly, touching every sweet spot of yours, the friction overwhelming you. His lips went wandering around, marking you everywhere. He left kisses and bites all over your neck and collarbones, tasting your sweet flesh.

"Yes babe.. get it all out-" you muffled, but his lips found their way to yours, engaging in a rough, sloppy and messy kiss.

His nails dug into your flesh, his primal-like behavior sending you over the edge. Your back arched against the wall, San's hand finding it's way to the back of your neck. He held you close and still, as he thrusted in you a few times and came undone, filling you up to the brim. As you felt yourself get filled by his load, he fucked you through his high and his hand found it's way to your clit, rubbing circles all around. You squirmed a few times, overstimulation surging over you and the knot in your belly became undone, soft cries and moans leaving out of your slowly rising chest.

"You feel so good.. I don't know how I've waited until now. Every second without you is torture..." he said and embraced you, his cock still inches deep inside you. He lifted you up and dropped you on the dinner table you had in the living room, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist.

His breath was hot against your neck as he whispered, "I can't get enough of you," his lips grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer as if the space between you was unbearable. The table beneath you creaked under the weight of your bodies, the edge pressing into your back as he leaned down, kissing you deeply, hungrily, with an urgency that made your heart race.

Your legs tightened around him, your heels digging into his lower back, urging him deeper. He let out a low, guttural sound of pleasure as he thrust into you, slow but deliberate, each movement intensifying the ache inside you. His fingers trailed up your sides, all the way up to your bare skin, fondling with your breasts, holding onto them.

With a wicked smile, he bit his lip, his eyes dark with desire as he watched the way your body responded to him. The rhythm of his hips became more insistent, and the friction between you built with every motion. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling, bodies perfectly in sync.

"I want to hear you," he growled softly, his voice deep and raw with need, his hand slipping between your bodies, teasing the spot that made your whole body tremble. Every touch was electric, every sensation overwhelming, as the pressure inside you built to an irresistible peak. You arched your back, surrendering to the intensity, your nails digging into his shoulders as the room around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the heat of your bodies and the undeniable connection between you.

Time seemed to blur as the world outside faded, leaving only the pulse of your heart, the sound of his ragged breaths, and the undeniable fire between you, burning hotter with every second.

His thrusts grew more urgent, deeper, as if he was chasing the same release that had your body trembling in his arms. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the room, his grunts mixing with your breathless moans, the tension between you building to a breaking point. His fingers worked in perfect rhythm with his hips, pushing you closer, closer, until finally, the pleasure surged through you, crashing like a wave. You cried out his name, your body arching against him, tightening around him as the intensity consumed you.

San groaned low in his throat, the sound almost primal as he felt you pulse around him, the sensation driving him over the edge. His hips bucked one last time, deep and powerful, before you felt him cum inside you, his warmth filling you as he let out a broken moan, collapsing against you. His breath was heavy in your ear, his heartbeat racing against your chest as the two of you remained locked together, still trembling from the intensity of it all.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with the soft sound of your shared breathing. His arms wrapped around you tightly, protectively, as if he couldn’t bear to let go just yet. Gently, he shifted, pulling you into his chest, his lips pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your neck. His touch was tender now, his rough urgency replaced by a deep care, a need to hold you close.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice softer now, full of concern as his fingers brushed through your hair, soothing you.

You nodded, still catching your breath, feeling the warmth of his body enveloping you, grounding you. His hands stroked your back in lazy, comforting circles, his lips never far from your skin. He held you as if you were fragile, like he wanted to protect you from everything, even though minutes ago, the world had disappeared in the heat between you.

San slowly pulled out of you, the absence leaving you feeling both empty and completely fulfilled, as he carefully helped you sit up on the edge of the table. He kissed your lips, slow and sweet, as if he had all the time in the world. Then, without saying a word, he scooped you up into his arms and carried you over to the couch, laying you down gently before settling next to you.

He tugged a soft blanket over your bodies, wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes searching yours with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"I love you," he whispered softly, his voice barely audible, but the emotion behind it was overwhelming. He kissed your temple, holding you tighter as you both drifted into a peaceful silence, your bodies still entwined, but now surrounded by a warmth that was so much more than just physical.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium @peachy-bell26

#illusionnet #blossomnet #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez x y/n #fanfic #smut fic #ateez #ateez smut #smut #ateez choi san #choi san #san x y/n #san fic #san x reader #san smut #mingi s dimples masterlist

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incognit0slut · 2 years ago

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Right Kind of Wrong (5)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye

Part summary: Spencer’s lack of experience on the female anatomy is educated by her. wc: 4,7k

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murder

a/n: sorry it took me longer to update, kind of went through a writer’s block but finally got back the vibe

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

SPENCER WAS A MAN ON A MISSION. His steps echoed on the marble floor the next morning as he entered the mundane space of the bureau, hand gripping the strap of his bag. The glass door separating the familiarity of his disorganized desk greeted him, but before he could enter the room, his heels turned towards a certain part of the office he was accustomed to.

He pushed the door at the end of the hallway to find Garcia typing away on her keyboard, her eyes fixated on the screen in front of her. The sudden sound of his arrival startled her before she swiveled in her chair, because the man standing by the door hardly visited her this early, especially when he still had his bag thrown over his shoulder.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the good doctor." She leaned back in her chair and gave him a grin. "What do I owe the pleasure of your presence in the safety of my lair?"

Spencer took a cautious step into the room as he closed the door behind him. "I need you to find me an address."

"That is my specialty." She turned back to her monitors. "Hit me."

"Y/n L/n."

There was a heavy pause as her fingers hovered above the keyboard. The familiarity of the name had her eying him as he stepped into her line of vision. "Isn't she one of the witnesses you talked to last night?"

He awkwardly cleared his throat. "Yes, she is."

"And you need her address because...?"

"I..." A sense of dread and anxiety hit him as he felt the intensity of her scrutinizing gaze. "I—I have further questions to ask."

Garcia wasn't an expert in profiling, unlike most of her teammates, but she wasn't blind when it came to picking out other people's sudden change of composure. Spencer's usually calm demeanor was suddenly replaced with discomfort, something that rarely occurred unless the topic of conversation extremely flustered him.

"You know," she started, slightly twisting her body. "Morgan told me something interesting happened last night, and I'm usually not one to gossip—" She rolled her eyes at the look he gave her. "Alright, fine, maybe I am. But it's not gossip if it's true."

His face twisted into a frown. "What did he tell you?"

"That the pretty witness lady may or may not know you personally." When he didn't respond, she urged on, "So? Is it true?"

Spencer quickly dropped his gaze to the floor. He considered himself to be a very private person, one that didn't share much about their personal life. The introverted trait in him preferred the comfort of spending his time engrossed with his own thoughts than engaging in unnecessary, awkward conversations with others. So whenever he received attention regarding his private matters, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under the spotlight.

"I cannot confirm nor deny that."

She scoffed. "You do realize you're not making it any less suspicious, right?"

She then proceeded in typing the name of the woman he had met the previous night but immediately stopped, her eyes piercing back at him. "What?"

"I will give you the address if you tell me whether you need it for work or personal reasons."

This was why he disliked human interaction. Couldn't one go on with their own lifestyle without questioning another person's way of life?

He let out an irritated sigh. "Garcia."

"Reid."

He pondered whether he could get away without explaining the intention of his request. But this was Penelope Garcia, known to be relentless with an interest in exchanging information about the personal lives of the team members. There was no other choice than to cave in if he wanted to avoid her persistent persuasion, so he answered—although reluctantly—in a very low voice, "Personal reasons.”

"I knew it!" She gleefully laughed. She focused her attention back onto her monitor, her fingers working their wonders before a passport picture of a woman stared back at them through the screen. "Ooh, she's pretty."

She really was. The person staring back at him was smiling, something he hadn't seen the last time he saw her. Her smile was an incredibly beautiful thing to behold. It was also incredibly contagious as he found his lips curling into a smile of his own, his eyes scanning across every feature on her radiant face. He was completely enthralled, it was as if her beauty had a grip on him, putting him in some sort of trance.

She was absolutely beautiful.

"Do you want me to save her picture? Send it to your phone?"

He felt the warmth spreading along his cheeks. "No." He turned his gaze towards the address printed on the left side of the screen, memorizing the exact street and the number of her residential.

"When I said you were a Casanova, I didn't think it would come to this extent." He threw her a frown as she explained, "A few days ago you had a lady friend at your place, and now this."

Spencer pursed his lips together. His palms immediately began to sweat as she sent him a wicked grin. His silence was all that it took for her to bounce in her chair, hands clapping at the irony of the situation. "No way. Are you telling me this is the same woman you met at the bar? The same stranger you spent the night with is the exact witness you talked to last night?"

He turned on his heels. "Goodbye, Garcia."

"Wait—no!" She grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to face her again. "Oh my god, I am so invested. This is way more entertaining than the show I'm currently watching!"

He heaved out a sigh. "I'm glad you can find amusement in my misery."

"Misery? This isn't misery, sweetheart, this is amazing. When was the last time you were involved with someone?" Far too long, he thought to himself, but his answer must've shown across his face. "Exactly. Now, aren't you glad I didn't show up that night?"

He shook his head, deciding not to answer her question, and crossed his arms instead. "This stays between us, okay?"

She nodded eagerly. "Of course."

"And you can't even mention this to Morgan."

"What?" She groaned as he proceeded to scowl at her. "Alright, alright. He will not hear any of this."

He assessed her one last time, cautiously weighing any possibility of her bluff. But when she returned his gaze with a suddenly concerned stare, he had to double-check whether he was seeing right. The mischievous glint in her eyes was replaced by a deep sense of worry, her face melting into the familiar solemn look she flashed whenever she had something important to say.

"Hey, Reid." She leaned back in her chair, tilting her head to the side. "You'll be careful, right?"

The sudden grimness of her tone caught him by surprise. "What do you mean?"

She paused for a moment, trying to sort out her words without wanting to offend him. "I just want to remind you that we're currently in the middle of investigating a case that involves her."

"She's only a witness," he pointed out.

"Doesn't make her any less important. Reid, when you're emotionally involved with anyone who is linked to a case we're working on, there's a high chance it can get messy. You know that."

Oh, how he knew that all too well. He knew how very unhealthy it could be, and how getting emotionally attached to someone involved in a case could lead to irrational or compromised decision-making. It could be a potential source of bias and it could make anyone put their personal feelings above what was best for the investigation. It could cloud people’s judgment. This was something that he would never recommend, something that he would urge anyone on the team to avoid doing.

So was he being rational now? Was running a background check on someone for personal reasons deemed appropriate?

Probably not. It was a very risky thing to consider, but Spencer was smart enough to understand how important it was to keep his emotions intact. The possibility of things getting out of hand would only happen if he couldn't keep it under control, which he was certain that he could, and he would never let anything stop him from doing his job.

"I'll be careful," he finally responded. "Thanks, Garcia."

"You are most definitely welcome, lover boy." She gave him a genuine smile before turning back toward her devices. "Now go and get your girl so I can go back to my work."

His body tensed. "She's not my girl."

She threw him a look that told him she didn't believe a word he said, something he was starting to question himself. He quickly shook his head and strode out of the room, completely denying Garcia's admission, because in his mind, Y/n was merely the stranger he met on one random night. She was simply the woman who ended up in his bed. She was the mysterious enigma who slipped into the night with nothing but a nod. She was the one who looked at him in disbelief at their unexpected encounter.

She was all of the things above, but she was definitely not his girl.

"You need to install a security camera."

Tapping her fingers lightly against the mug in her hands, eyes fixed on the black liquid of the freshly brewed coffee, Y/n blew out a rough breath. "Please worry about yourself."

"Or better yet, get a dog," the man across from her suggested. "Those big hound dogs that would scare people off. They can easily sense danger when they see one."

"Why would I need a dog when I have you?"

He frowned at her. "I'm being serious."

"And you think I'm not?"

He went completely still, his eyes trailing across her face. "Is that a trick question?"

She took a sip of the warm coffee, letting it calm her frustration as she pondered whether kicking him out of her own house was a better option than dragging him out through the door.

"Oliver," she muttered, her voice laced with annoyance while she carefully put down her mug on the countertop. "You have practically stationed yourself in my house, barking at anyone you think might be a potential danger."

"Y/n," he followed her gesture, leaning closer into the small space of her kitchen. "It's for your safety."

"You shouted at my mailman!"

"He took an awful lot of time talking to you."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to cause a scene in the sanctuary of her own home. She had woken up this morning, limbs tangled in her sheet and body aching from all the emotions she went through the previous night, and decided she would spend the day relaxing the tension in her nerves. Do some grocery shopping, head to the beauty salon to get a manicure and a nice haircut that was long overdue, and ravish herself with a delicious meal at the new restaurant she had been wanting to visit.

But all her plans went down the drain when she heard a loud knock the moment she opened her eyes. She found Oliver standing on her front porch, holding his trademark smile and amiable posture, before lunging at her with concern while asking a bunch of questions related to what had happened.

At first, she accepted his worry, what was she to do when a friend came to her house to make sure she was doing alright? But the longer he stayed the more she wondered whether letting him inside her home was the smartest thing to do. She knew Oliver was a very persistent person, but she wasn't aware of him being this insufferable.

"You know what would make me feel safe?" She walked out of the kitchen, expecting him to follow her, something he had been doing throughout the day. "For you to stop breathing down my neck and let me enjoy my weekend in peace."

Her plan worked, he was already hot on her heels as he watched her stalk toward the front area of her house. "I came by to check in on you."

"Since the morning, it's almost 5 PM." She tugged the door open before stepping to the side. "I'm sure I can manage on my own now—"

"Who’s that?"

Shd followed his line of sight and frowned when a black vehicle stopped right at her curb, its engine cutting off a moment later. She watched as the door wrenched open and felt her heart drop as a familiar face stared directly back. The shock of seeing someone unexpected took her by surprise, it was an incredibly powerful feeling that left her pretty shaken up and even a little bit stunned, because right on her driveway was none other than Spencer-fucking-Reid.

Seeing him in action for his job last night was enough to captivate her. But watching him in a tight FBI vest over a button-down with his sleeves rolled up, showing off firm arms and veins running along the back of his hands, mesmerized her in a way that had her weak in the knees.

Suits had become the sexiest thing she'd ever seen on a man after she saw him last night—firmly replacing uniforms, she had always been a sucker for military men... until now. The authority he held wearing that vest easily became her favorite clothing on a man. On him precisely, including the gun strapped to the side of his hip. How the sight of a dangerous weapon on him could be so attractive was beyond her.

She felt Oliver inching closer, his voice extremely low, "Do you want me to bark?"

She heard his words perfectly, but her attention was too focused on the other man as he stepped onto her porch. She wasn't questioning how he got her address—because authorities could easily search any citizen's information, right?—but she was curious why he bothered coming to her house. "What are you doing here?"

Sensing the recognition in her voice, Oliver addressed the unknown man with a hard stare. "Who are you again?"

"Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid," he introduced himself, flashing his badge. "I have further questions for Ms. L/n regarding a certain case."

"You mean Jamison's murder?"

Spencer nodded, leveling his gaze with the man who stood too close to her for his liking. "I need to talk to her personally."

It was another way for him to urge Oliver out of her house, Y/n noted, which was something she didn't oppose. Oliver tensed beside her, throwing her a doubtful look. "Will you be fine?"

Would she be fine being left alone with someone she wanted nothing to do after everything that happened? Maybe not. But it was better than to have Oliver gluing himself in her home. "I’ll be fine. You can go, Oliver."

The two men addressed one another, and the mood suddenly turned intense. Spencer was very cautious and deliberate with each of his movements, trying to be intuitive and on alert for any possible threat or danger. But then Oliver nodded his head and smiled at him, shrugging away any tension that lingered in the air.

He turned towards her. "Call me if you need anything."

She stepped aside and let him pass, breathing out a grateful sigh as she finally watched him walk down the street.

"Boyfriend?"

"No," she quickly replied, frowning at the idea of Oliver being her partner. Then she shot Spencer a look. "Not that it's any of your business."

He probably deserved that. He nodded behind her as his eyes scanned the entrance of her house. "Can I come in?"

There was something about letting the man into her home. It was a very special and sacred place that brought peace and joy after a long day of work. Letting him into the comfort of her house meant letting him into a personal part of herself.

She opened the door further before he stepped inside, his eyes scanning every nook and corner. She cleared her throat and closed the door behind her. "So, you wanted to ask me more questions?"

There was a moment of silence as he turned around. "I actually came here to apologize." When she didn't respond, he added, "About last night."

She narrowed her eyes. "What exactly are you apologizing for?"

"It seemed we got off the wrong foot yesterday and I want to apologize if I offended you in any way."

The memory of last night's encounter flashed before her eyes; their unexpected encounter, the way he acted as if he had never held her naked, and how he wanted no one else to know their tryst, keeping it as a mere rendezvous between two strangers. There was some truth in that, but there was also another truth in her disappointment, and suddenly she was extremely tired of all these emotions.

"Last night was... it was awkward for both of us,” she decided to say. "Why don't we forget it ever happened?"

"Forget what?"

"Everything?" She crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to another. "About last night, about—" She mentally winced. "About what happened the first night we met.”

She noticed the way his shoulders tensed. His eyes had narrowed almost imperceptibly as he studied her quietly in return. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?”

"Why do you want to forget that night?"

There was something unnerving about the way he looked at her. One of her hands nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she eyed him. She felt her heart rate pick up slightly—there could only be one reason he was asking this, right?

"Do you not want to forget it?"

She could see the way his cheeks were twitching, the muscles working as if he was weighing his next words. He took a step forward, cautiously scanning his eyes across her face. Staring wasn't quite the word for what he was doing. His eyes rested on her, not unblinking but slowed; yet the effect was soft and inviting instead of harsh or demanding. Perhaps it was his lips that give away his intention, like a ghost of a smile peeking through his features in the stillness of the room.

"What if I want a repeat of it?"

She is nhaled a sharp breath, her heart rate drastically climbing in her chest she could feel her pulse vibrating through her entire body. His unvoiced suggestion hung heavily in the air. She felt that first warm flood of arousal struck her, the blood in her body abruptly shifting south.

A shiver ran down her spine, goosebumps abruptly rising along her forearms. "What are you trying to say?"

His mouth pulled back into a slow smile before she watched him inch forward, carefully closing the distance between them. A moment later he was leaning towards her, reaching his hands out deliberately slow. Her eyes followed their movements, her breathing increasing as his hands found her own. Carefully, he started to pull her, moving extremely slow, as if giving her plenty of time to register what was happening and a chance for her to pull away.

But she didn't, instead, her body followed his direction, letting him tug her across the small gap separating them.

"I grew up in Las Vegas," he suddenly said, hands moving up her arms. "I was a child prodigy in a public school, and believe it or not, I've suffered worse things growing up than in my line of work now."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Last night you didn't know the city I grew up in." A smile stretched across his lip. "And now you do."

The hands on her arms gripped a bit tighter, carefully urging her to move closer. The warmth radiating from his body was already driving her wild. How was it possible for one person to make her feel like she was completely losing her mind?

He was playing with fire, and she was practically a moth to a flame.

Her hands cautiously slid along his shoulders and up the length of his neck. She felt a faint rumble in his throat as her fingertips slid over the skin of it. Her eyes focused on the way he was watching her, eyes fluttering in a haze, mouth slightly parted. Biting her lip, she slipped her hand into his disheveled hair, carefully raking her fingers through the softness of it. He instantly leaned into the touch as she felt the growing need in her rising.

"Is this even allowed?" She breathed out, shuddering at the way the firmness of his vest pressed against her chest. "Fornicating with the witness?"

"It's probably not the wisest thing to do," was his honest reply.

She pulled him closer as she felt his arms settling around her waist. "Yet you still want to break the rules?"

Eyes dropping down to her mouth, his gaze lingered on her luscious lips. Gradually he leaned down towards her, his own lips parting as their breaths mingled in the small space between them. He shifted his forehead against hers, his nose lightly bumping into her own.

"Wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."

And then he closed the gap, caressing his lips just barely against hers, before thrusting himself into her open mouth, an obvious level of hungry desperation in the way he devoured her whole. He'd wanted this—wanted to taste her again ever since she stood unexpectedly in front of him. Sucking the entirety of her bottom lip into his mouth, she let out a moan. That glorious, soft, perfect, bit of flesh fit entirely into his mouth. His tongue danced along the length of it, a deep grunt coming from his throat as she melted further in his arms.

Spencer’s hands grabbed her hard by the hips as he tugged her into his body so tight she could feel his arousal pressing into her. She gasped in surprise, and he took the moment to lunge deeper into her mouth, feverishly in a flurry of tongue and teeth, his mouth only riling her further. The feeling of his tongue colliding against hers sent her into a nose dive of indescribable sensation. The longer the kiss lasted, the hotter she felt, and the warmer her skin got.

She breathed out another moan, fingers carding through the lengthier parts of his hair. The more his mouth moved against hers, the harder it was becoming to hold back. She was pouncing on him, kissing him back with as much fervor, and slightly let out a whimper when he pulled back. His mouth broke from hers, slipping down to place kisses along her jawline. She bit her lip, head tilting back just as he muttered, "Tell me how you want to be touched."

The request had her pulling back, staring at him in disbelief. "What?"

"What you said last night..." He explained, a sudden insecurity weighing in his eyes. "It got to my head."

Mouth opening and closing, she stared at him in stunned silence. Then the realization hit her on what he was implying. "I said that out of the heat of the moment," she assured him. "I was simply mad at you."

Although the way she was trying to avoid his gaze told him otherwise. "I'm a profiler. I can tell if you're lying."

She couldn't stop the amused laugh slipping through her lips. "Look," she started, slightly tugging his hair. "It wasn't that you were bad. But you could've been, I don't know—better, perhaps?"

"You do know how to bruise a man's ego," he muttered, more to himself than to her. He let out a sigh as she stared at him in amusement. "Let me be honest with you, I don't have that much experience with women, but..." he trailed off, pressing a soft kiss at the corner of her lips. "I do want to know how you want to be touched."

She could feel her amusement slipping away as she struggled to wrap her mind around what was happening, breath coming in short, her body filled with a warmth that wasn't just from her growing arousal. "You're being serious, aren't you?"

"Very." His nose intentionally bumped against hers this time, the hand on her lower back somehow holding her tighter to him. “I have three bachelor's degrees and completed three doctorate programs, learning and excelling in new subjects is engraved deep in my blood."

She playfully shoved him. "Show off."

He simply smiled, slightly pulling away. His head turned just a fraction towards her, hands sliding along her hips. “Tell me how I can be better for you.”

She stared at him, completely enthralled with the way his eyes lingered across her face—her eyes, her nose, her mouth. This was dangerous, letting herself fall deeper into this lust, but somehow it felt right. It felt incredibly right to feel his arms around her. It felt perfectly right as she snaked her arms behind her, grabbed onto his hand, and pulled him deeper into her home.

Her mind was too clouded with a desire to think clearly, and even when a little voice at the back of her head reminded her how wrong getting tangled with an authority in this situation was, she simply decided not to listen. Instead, she guided him toward her living room and walked him over to the single-seated sofa before placing her hands on his chest.

Spencer’s brows drew together, a small crease forming between them. She gently pushed him back, the back of his legs hitting the furniture as he settled himself between the soft cushions. He sat there, staring expectantly at her standing before him. Ignoring any self-conscious thoughts, she gripped the bottom of her blouse and swiftly pulled it over her head.

His eyes went wide. “What are you doing?"

A coy smile stretched across her mouth as she undid her pants, noticing the way he is eyes were focused on every little move she made. His question was left unanswered as she slipped off her jeans, kicking them off as they finally slid down her legs. Then she unclasped her bra and his mouth opened, eyes narrowing as his head tilted back, his tongue slowly sweeping along his bottom lip. He instinctively reached out, his calloused pads brushed her bare skin and a shudder ran down her spine before she slipped away from his touch.

He groaned a moment later. “Where are you going?”

She shook her head, still not answering him. She then turned around with her back facing him, and because she found pleasure in the way his eyes glazed every time she teased him, her fingers grabbed the band of her underwear, slowly sliding it down her legs. He let out a strained whimper as the evidence of her slick arousal clung onto the fabric, and it took a lot of self-control for him to stay still.

And when she finally turned around, he took in the sight of her naked form standing before him. She was as beautiful as he remembered, so perfectly made—full breasts, hips, thighs—the body of a woman as a woman was meant to be. But before he could devour her naked flesh with his eyes, she took a step back before sinking herself onto the longer couch, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

There was something compelling being the one in charge, even when she seemed to be the only one naked, wearing nothing but a taunting smile while he sat there still in the confinement of his vest. Good lord—that vest. It was doing things to her. The vest. The hair. That look. The way he was watching her wrecked her and now she was wondering how much longer she could put on a show until he came undone.

"I'm not going to tell you how I want to be touched.” Her sultry voice rang in his ears as she leaned back, her knees falling apart. And when he thought she couldn’t drive him more insane than he already was, her fingers slipped between her legs painfully slow. Goosebumps rose along his skin, a shudder of anticipation running down his body.

“I think I might have to show you."

He let out a strangled sigh.

She was going to be the death of him.

>> NEXT PART

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PLEASE READ: If any of you asked me to be added and you’re not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I could see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can’t tag you. Thank you :)

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snowshowerwriting · 4 months ago

Text

Whumptober Day 2: Trust issues | Role Reversal

It's 11:59 Wednesday somewhere in the world still...

TW: Post-battle/fight disaster, off screen death, hints towards abusive dynamics

The Villain couldn't breathe. Debris crashed all around them, and the air was filled with dust and ash. It took the villain a few seconds to orient themselves upright again, knees shaking as they stared at the wreckage ahead of them. When the reality set in, their heart sank.

Everything was ruined. The lair was broken and bent beyond recognition. The home they had once shared with friends, with people who were like family to them was gone within seconds. The Villain took one shaky step forward, and then another before breaking out into a run towards where the piles of wall and debris sat.

They kneeled on the rubble and began to dig through it. There was only one thing in their mind right now- to find the Supervillain, to know that he hadn't died. The only sounds were the fragments of brick being tossed to the side and the ringing in the Villain's ears. Although they were calling out for the Supervillain's name, they could barely hear their own voice beyond their panicked thoughts. They couldn't take in a proper breath between heaving sobs.

"Villain!"

Very vaguely, the Villain recognized the voice of the Hero far behind them in the aftermath of the battle. This wasn't supposed to happen, the Hero wasn't supposed to take it this far, and the Supervillain wasn't supposed to be hurt, he wasn't supposed to be dead.

"Villain!" This time, a strong grip had taken hold of their arms and spun them around. Villain's breath hitched as the shock began settling, and the numbness in their hands went away. They hadn't realized how badly their body was scrapped up until the Hero squeezed their hands. Every little mark lit on fire.

"Gods, are you okay? What are you doing there?" The questions were accompanied by gentle hands brushing the villain's bangs back. Villain recoiled at the touch, almost stumbling back at the unsteady ground. "Don't you dare fucking touch me!" The venom in the Villain's voice had caught both the hero and themself by surprise.

The Hero stared at the Villain, confused at first and then they tried to approach the Villain again. The shock had left the Villain now, and anger began brewing anew within their veins. "Don't you dare take another step to me," they seethed. Between the blurred vision and the anger and panic buzzing in their body, the villain didn't notice the hero's expression darken. They didn't notice the change in the hero as the reality of the Supervillain's death settled in. What would they do now? Their home was wrecked and their one true friend was gone and-

The villain was forced to look up, their face being held in the sharp claws of their enemy. They couldn't help the choked-up sob as the Hero kneeled down to meet them on the ground. All the kindness in their eyes disappeared, replaced with the cruelty the villain had seen during the making of this destruction.

"Get yourself together, Ok?" The Hero's voice was low. Quiet, and yet, the Villain could still feel the goosebumps rise on their arms and the hair on the back of their neck rise. They tried to get themselves together, through their trembling hands and relentless tears and all. "You're ok," the hero told them, and the villain could only nod yes. "You'll be fine with me, if not better." The soft voice did nothing to hide the threat.

The Hero's nails dug into their cheeks, a subtle warning before they stood up. "See?" the hero sighed, and rested their hand on the villain's shoulder. "Come on, let's go see the rest of my team. We'll get you back in the base and into the right shape." The villain bit their lips to hold back another outburst and nodded. As the hero led them out of the rubble, they couldn't help but look back. Their home was gone now. What safety existed has been destroyed. Where would they go now?

aaaa not the proudest of this honestly. Maybe I'll rewrite it someday? Anyway, I'm starting to get back into writing after, what? 2 years? This snippet is honestly not the best work but.. hopefully, by the end of October, I develop into a better writer? Idk, we'll find out

#whumptober2024 #no.2 #trust issues #subtle threats #hero x villain #villain whumpee #heroes and villains #writeblr #whump community #hero whumper

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dysfunctional-doodle · 5 months ago

Note

Yeah, both Mikey and Donnie didn't get much character in the movie. Makes me sad when those 2 don't get much screen time 😔

Do you have some head cannons for each of the 2007 turtles? There isn't much to go on, so I it's hard to think of any

Yeah, I don’t have many hcs. I do think it’s canon (I don’t know if it was ever confirmed) that the 2007 movie is actually the turtles from the 90’s movies, as hinted though a lot of background details. But that could also be just Easter eggs but I like to think it’s true.

A few rough hcs:

1. Mikey got hurt quite badly sometimes when doing the birthday parties, but no one noticed/he didn’t tell anyone due to the strained relationships in the family. As a result he’s gotten very good at lying and makeup/skin painting due to hiding his bruises. It’s a habit that has unfortunately stuck after the movie - Leo realises this after he tries to walk off getting punted off a building.

2. Raph was suffering from depression due to Leo’s departure. This was why, unless he was beating people up at night (an unhealthy outlet) he was in bed all day and unresponsive. Also this was why he was so closed off to everyone, especially Donnie.

3. Donnie has insomnia which can go on for days. He first got the tech job to do the night shifts and try and shut off his brain. Without stimuli and patrolling, it only got worse, hence his own short fuse towards Raph

4. Every night Mikey waits for Raph to return, trying to stay awake all night. He sleeps in snatches in the afternoon/early evening after the parties are over, wanting to stay up late and make sure Raph comes back and isn’t hurt

5. Donnie also has major issues with burnout that Mikey can help fix

6. Leo has mild OCD, hence why he doesn’t like change that much. His training helped with this, but he has to work on his anxieties all over again when he comes back to New York and his brothers have new and developed skills and fighting styles

7. These boys turtle pile. They also love water and basking. Over the 2 years Leo is gone they don’t do this as it feels wrong to do it without him

8. When the dust settles and a year or so has passed since the movie, Leo invites his brothers to go to the jungle he trained in and spend a month there to work on their skills and to have a nice holiday. Not what many class as a vacation but they actually thrive in the environment. Leo misses the jungle and it was a large part of him, so he wants to share its importance with his brothers.

9. Raph is VERY protective of his brothers. After the movie and his fallout with Leo, this is turned up to the extreme until they all ambush him and get him to relax. Turtle piles.

10. Mikey is one of those people that can eat literal nuclear waste and be fine. He has an iron stomach

11. As I always say, Mikey has ADHD

12. Mikey is also very bad at directions and maps. He can navigate by remembering landmarks and have a rough idea of the direction he came from, but he gets too distracted and wanders off. As a kid, Splinter had to put one of those long leads on him when he went to the surface.

13. The PB&J mischief duo is real. Both of them like chaos too much and form alliances against Raph and Leo

14. Raph is very very scarred. He has a habit of jumping in front of weapons and getting into fights too often

15. Leo has a specific cleaning routine for his katana he does everyday without fail. He will not class training as being finished until he has done this.

16. Leo is a terrible driver. Mikey is actually very good

17. Mikey is good at ventriloquism. He totally doesn’t exploit this talent in the lair

That’s all I can think of for now!

#tmnt #tmnt asks #asks and replies #tmnt hc #headcanons #tmnt 2007 #tmnt headcanons

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novaursa · 6 months ago

Text

Part 4

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word count: 9 000+

- Parts: 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Final

The grand dining hall of Dragonstone was filled with the subdued clatter of utensils and the murmur of conversations, but there was a noticeable tension in the air. Vaella’s absence was glaringly apparent, and Aegon, seated next to Aemond, was visibly unsettled, glancing repeatedly at the empty seat beside him. King Viserys, weary and in pain, finally looked up from his untouched meal, his expression one of concern and frustration.

“Where is my daughter?” Viserys demanded, his voice carrying over the hall.

The knights of the Kingsguard exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent. Daemon’s patience snapped, and he barked at them, “One of you should have been watching the Princess! Speak up!”

Ser Harrold, their commander, stepped forward reluctantly. “Your Grace, it is not uncommon for Princess Vaella to sneak past us to seek solace. She often orders us to leave her be.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with anger. “That is not acceptable. She is to be protected at all times.”

Alicent shared a look with Ser Criston, who grimaced before addressing the king. “Your Grace, I saw the Princess walking towards Dragonmont earlier. I believe I can catch up to her.”

Viserys, leaning heavily on his cane, nodded. “Then do so, Ser Criston. Bring her back safely.”

Aegon suddenly stood up, his face a mask of determination. “I will go with Ser Criston.”

Alicent, her eyes widening with concern, quickly interjected, “Aegon, sit back down. This is not the time—”

But Aegon cut her off, his tone resolute. “No, Mother. Vaella is my betrothed. I need to ensure she is safe.”

Viserys, seeing the resolve in his son’s eyes, allowed it, much to Alicent’s annoyance. “Very well. Go with Ser Criston, Aegon. But be quick.”

Alicent’s expression hardened, but she held her tongue as Aegon and Ser Criston left the hall together. The tension in the room was high, the clinking of utensils gradually ceasing as everyone watched the pair depart.

The journey to Dragonmont was swift, Aegon’s heart pounding with each step. The path was familiar, but tonight it felt more foreboding, shadows deepening as the sun dipped below the horizon.

“Aegon, stay close,” Ser Criston advised, his hand never straying far from his sword.

“I know these paths,” Aegon replied, his voice tight. “We must find her quickly.”

They navigated the rocky terrain, the sound of distant dragon roars growing louder. The entrance to Cannibal’s lair loomed ahead, a dark and ominous cavern. The scent of death and decay grew stronger as they approached.

“She’s in there,” Aegon said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can feel it.”

Ser Criston nodded, his expression grim. “Stay behind me.”

They entered the cave, their footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. The dim light revealed the grisly remains of Cannibal’s meals, bones and carcasses littering the floor. In the gloom, they saw her.

Vaella lay on the ground, unconscious, with Cannibal coiled protectively around her. The dragon’s eyes glowed menacingly, but there was an odd sense of calm in his posture.

“Vaella!” Aegon cried out, rushing forward, but Ser Criston held him back.

“Careful, Aegon. We don’t want to provoke him.”

Cannibal’s green eyes flicked towards them, his gaze assessing. For a moment, it seemed as though he might attack, but then he slowly uncoiled, allowing them to approach.

“Vaella!” Aegon cried out, rushing forward and dropping to his knees beside her. His hands trembled as he shook her frantically. “Vaella, wake up! Please, wake up!”

She didn't respond, her body limp in his grasp. Panic surged through Aegon, and he shook her harder, his voice growing desperate. “Vaella, please!”

Ser Criston quickly intervened, prying Aegon off Vaella with firm hands. “Aegon, move aside! Let me see her!”

Aegon resisted for a moment, his desperation making him cling to her, but Criston's strength prevailed. He pulled Aegon back, causing the prince to stumble and fall. Ser Criston knelt beside Vaella, checking her vitals with a practiced efficiency.

“She’s alive,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “But we need to get her back to the castle immediately.”

With a grunt, Ser Criston lifted Vaella into his arms, cradling her unconscious form against his chest. Aegon, still shaken, scrambled to his feet, his eyes never leaving his beloved sister. “Be careful with her, please,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

“Stay close, Aegon,” Criston instructed, leading the way out of the cave. Cannibal watched them leave, his green eyes glinting in the dim light, but he made no move to stop them.

The journey back to the castle was swift, Aegon’s protective grip never faltering. As they entered the dining hall, a collective sigh of relief echoed through the room. Viserys stood, his expression one of immense relief.

“Vaella,” he said softly, his eyes filled with concern.

Vaella remained unconscious in Ser Criston’s arms, her face pale and serene. Alicent, despite her earlier annoyance, moved to her son’s side, her hand resting on his shoulder. “Thank you, Aegon.”

Aegon nodded, his eyes fixed on Vaella. “I’ll always be there for her, Mother.”

Ser Criston gently laid Vaella on a couch, his expression serious as he addressed the king. “She’s alive, Your Grace, but she needs rest and care.”

Viserys nodded, his relief palpable. “Thank you, Ser Criston. We will see to her care.”

…

Vaella was carefully placed in her bed under the watchful eye of the Maester, who tended to her with gentle hands and a concerned expression. The room was filled with the low murmur of voices and the tension of worry. Daemon stood beside Rhaenyra, her two eldest sons, Jacaerys and Lucerys, and his own twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena, their eyes all fixed on the still form of Vaella.

Aegon sat by Vaella’s bedside, clinging to her hand as if his touch alone could bring her back to consciousness. His face was a mix of anguish and determination, unwilling to leave her side. Daemon’s gaze shifted from Aegon to Ser Criston Cole, who stood nearby, his expression a blend of annoyance and concern.

“Cole,” Daemon called out, his voice cutting through the hushed atmosphere. “Where exactly did you find her like this?”

Ser Criston straightened, meeting Daemon’s piercing gaze. “The Princess was unconscious in Cannibal’s cave. The dragon was coiled around her.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “And Cannibal didn’t attack you?”

Ser Criston’s jaw tightened, a hint of irritation flashing in his eyes, no doubt fueled by their shared contentious history. “No, he did not. If he had, we wouldn’t be standing here now.”

Daemon smirked at the knight’s snarky response, appreciating the unspoken challenge in his tone. He then leaned closer to Rhaenyra, whispering in her ear. “If what Criston says is true, your sister just claimed a dragon—or perhaps the dragon claimed her. And not just any dragon, a particularly nasty one. We need to verify this.”

Rhaenyra nodded, her face a mask of concern and curiosity. “Be careful, Daemon.”

“I will. I’ll take the Dragonkeepers and inspect the cave myself,” he replied, his eyes glinting with the thrill of a new challenge.

Meanwhile, King Viserys, leaning heavily on his cane, made his way to Vaella’s bedside to observe the Maester’s work more closely. He placed a trembling hand on Aegon’s shoulder, offering silent support as he watched his daughter’s pale face.

“Maester, will she recover?” Viserys asked, his voice fraught with anxiety.

The Maester, without looking up from his work, replied with measured calm. “She is strong, Your Grace. With rest and care, she should recover. But it will take time.”

On the other end of the room, Otto and Alicent stood with Aemond and Helaena. Otto’s eyes flicked over the scene, his mind already calculating the implications of Vaella’s condition and the rumors surrounding Cannibal.

Alicent, her face tight with concern, leaned closer to Otto. “This bond with Cannibal… it could be both a blessing and a curse.”

Otto nodded, his expression grim. “Indeed. We must tread carefully. We could use this in the future.”

…

King Viserys turned to Maester Mellos, his voice strained with concern. "Maester, what exactly happened to my daughter?"

Maester Mellos, still busy attending to Vaella, looked up and adjusted his spectacles. "It appears to be a head injury, Your Grace, but I cannot find the mark where she might have hit it when she fell." He paused, then added in a quieter tone, "It is... interesting."

Viserys's brow furrowed with worry. "What do you mean by that, Mellos? Explain yourself."

Mellos waved a hand dismissively. "Just the ramblings of an old man, Your Grace. Nothing more."

The tense atmosphere in the room grew thicker until Aegon broke the silence. "When will she wake up, Maester? How long will it take?"

Mellos sighed, his expression thoughtful. "It is difficult to say, Prince Aegon. It could be an hour, or it could be days. It depends on the severity of the injury."

Rhaenyra, standing beside her sister's bed, gazed softly at Vaella. "We should let her rest. Come, Jace, Luke, Baela, Rhaena. Give your aunt some peace."

With gentle coaxing, she ushered her sons and Daemon's daughters out of the chamber. Alicent and Otto exchanged a look before following, their faces etched with concern. Viserys, leaning heavily on his cane, was the last to leave, his heart heavy with worry for his daughter.

Maester Mellos finished his work, checking Vaella's vitals one last time before stepping back. The room quieted, leaving only Aemond, Helaena, and Aegon with Vaella. Aegon refused to let go of her hand, his eyes never leaving her face.

Aemond broke the silence, his voice admiring. "Vaella showed great bravery, seeking to claim such a fierce dragon."

Aegon shook his head, his expression troubled. "Vaella never talked about wanting to claim a dragon. She was content with Sunfyre and with me. Something else must have happened."

Helaena, still lost in her world of cryptic whispers, spoke softly. "The bond of fire, not of choice, called by sorrow and unseen voice."

Aegon glanced at her, not fully understanding her words but feeling a deep unease. "Whatever it was, I just want her to wake up. I need to know she’s alright."

Aemond nodded, his gaze shifting to the unconscious form of Vaella. "We’ll find out the truth, Aegon. For now, we must be patient and hope for her recovery."

The room fell into a heavy silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The bond between Vaella and Cannibal, the mysterious circumstances of her injury, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead weighed heavily on their minds. Aegon’s grip on Vaella’s hand tightened, his resolve strengthening. No matter what it took, he would be there for her, ready to protect her from whatever darkness threatened to encroach upon their lives.

…

Daemon moved purposefully through the corridors of Dragonstone, his face set with determination. He had resolved to uncover the truth about Vaella’s encounter with Cannibal. The thought that his niece might have bonded with such a fierce and unpredictable dragon filled him with a mix of concern and intrigue.

He gathered a small group of Dragonkeepers, their experience and knowledge crucial for what lay ahead. Caraxes, his own formidable dragon, followed closely, his presence both comforting and intimidating. The night air was cool, and the scent of the sea mingled with the ever-present tang of dragonfire.

As they approached the entrance to Cannibal’s lair, the Dragonkeepers exchanged uneasy glances. The cave loomed dark and foreboding, the air thick with the scent of death and decay. Bones and half-eaten carcasses littered the ground, a stark reminder of Cannibal’s ferocity.

“Stay alert,” Daemon instructed, his voice steady. “We’re here to confirm the bond between Cannibal and Princess Vaella. We proceed with caution.”

The Dragonkeepers nodded, their hands resting on their weapons as they moved forward. Caraxes let out a low growl, his eyes fixed on the darkness of the cave ahead.

As they entered, the oppressive atmosphere seemed to close in around them. The light from their torches flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The cave was a labyrinth of tunnels and chambers, the air growing colder the deeper they went.

“Spread out,” Daemon ordered. “But stay within sight. We need to find any sign of Vaella’s bond with Cannibal.”

The Dragonkeepers obeyed, their movements cautious and deliberate. Daemon’s eyes scanned the area, looking for any indication of what had transpired here. The ground was littered with the remains of Cannibal’s meals, and the walls were blackened with soot.

Suddenly, a low rumble echoed through the cave, and Cannibal’s menacing green eyes appeared in the darkness. The dragon was coiled in a protective stance, his massive form blocking their path. Caraxes growled in response, but Daemon raised a hand to calm his dragon.

“Easy, Caraxes,” he murmured, stepping forward. “We mean no harm, Cannibal. We’re here to understand.”

Cannibal’s eyes locked onto Daemon, his gaze intense and unyielding. Daemon took a deep breath, meeting the dragon’s gaze with a mixture of respect and authority.

“Princess Vaella,” Daemon began, his voice steady. “She is my niece. If you have bonded with her, show us a sign.”

For a tense moment, the cave was silent except for the faint crackling of the torches. Then, slowly, Cannibal uncoiled, revealing a space on the ground where a faint outline of a human form was visible. The dragon’s movements were deliberate, almost gentle, as if he was aware of the significance of this act.

One of the Dragonkeepers stepped forward, his eyes widening in realization. “It’s true,” he whispered. “Cannibal has bonded with the Princess.”

Daemon felt a surge of relief and wonder. The bond between dragon and rider was a powerful and sacred connection, and the fact that Vaella had bonded with Cannibal was extraordinary. He turned to the Dragonkeepers, his voice filled with a newfound respect for the fierce dragon.

“Cannibal has chosen Vaella,” Daemon said. “We must respect this bond and ensure her safety.”

Caraxes growled softly, sensing the significance of the moment. Cannibal, too, seemed to relax, his posture less aggressive. The tension in the cave eased, and Daemon felt a deep sense of accomplishment. He had come seeking answers, and he had found them.

“Return to the castle,” Daemon instructed the Dragonkeepers. “Inform the King of what we’ve discovered. I will stay here a while longer.”

As the Dragonkeepers made their way back, Daemon approached Cannibal, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and reverence. “You have chosen well, Cannibal. Vaella is strong, like her sister.”

Cannibal’s green eyes flickered, and Daemon felt a strange sense of understanding pass between them. The bond between dragon and rider was more than just a partnership; it was a meeting of souls, a connection that transcended the physical world.

As Daemon stood in the dark cave, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He would protect Vaella and her bond with Cannibal, ensuring that their connection would be a source of strength for the Targaryen family.

With a final nod to Cannibal, Daemon turned and made his way back to the castle, Caraxes following closely. The night was quiet, the stars shining brightly overhead.

…

The Dragonkeepers made their way back to the castle, their steps quick and purposeful. They carried the weight of significant news, and as they approached the grand hall, their expressions were solemn. Inside, King Viserys was engaged in a quiet conversation with Rhaenyra. The warmth of the fire in the hearth contrasted with the cold tension in the air.

Viserys looked up as the Dragonkeepers entered, his eyes narrowing with concern. "What news do you bring?" he asked, his voice heavy with the weight of recent events.

One of the Dragonkeepers stepped forward, bowing respectfully. "Your Grace, we have just returned from Cannibal's lair. Prince Daemon and we have confirmed that Princess Vaella has bonded with the dragon. Cannibal has chosen her."

Rhaenyra's eyes widened in surprise, her concern deepening. "Vaella has bonded with Cannibal? Are you certain?"

The Dragonkeeper nodded. "Yes, Princess Rhaenyra. Cannibal's behavior and the signs we observed leave no doubt. He has accepted Princess Vaella as his rider. We will begin constructing a saddle for the dragon immediately so that the Princess may take her first flight with Cannibal back to the capital."

Viserys leaned back in his chair, a mix of awe and worry crossing his face. "This is extraordinary news. Thank you for your diligence. You are dismissed."

As the Dragonkeepers left, Rhaenyra turned to her father, her brow furrowed with worry. "What would possess Vaella to seek out that dragon? Cannibal is known for his savagery and unpredictability. What drove her to such a perilous decision?"

Viserys sighed, his gaze drifting to the flickering flames in the hearth. "We will have to ask her once she wakes up. For now, we must be content with the knowledge that she has accomplished something remarkable. Bonding with Cannibal is no small feat. It speaks to her strength and courage."

Rhaenyra nodded, though the worry in her eyes did not dissipate. "She has always been strong, but this... this is something else entirely."

Viserys placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Vaella will need our support now more than ever. The bond between dragon and rider is powerful, and Cannibal is a force to be reckoned with. We must trust in her strength and guide her as best we can."

Rhaenyra sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at her father. "I just hope she understands what she has taken on. Cannibal is not like the other dragons."

Viserys nodded. "She will learn, and she will adapt. We have always been a family of dragon riders, and Vaella is no different. Her bond with Cannibal may be a challenge, but it is also a testament to her spirit."

The room fell into a contemplative silence, both of them lost in their thoughts. The fire crackled softly, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear: Vaella’s bond with Cannibal would change everything. It was a new chapter in the Targaryen legacy, one filled with both promise and peril.

Viserys's voice broke the silence, soft but resolute. "For now, we must wait and prepare. Vaella will wake, and when she does, we will be there to support her. Together, we will face whatever comes."

Rhaenyra nodded, a sense of determination settling over her.

They sat in quiet solidarity, the bond between them strengthened by their shared concern for Vaella.

…

Two days had passed since Vaella was found in Cannibal’s lair. The castle had been a place of hushed whispers and anxious waiting. Aegon had remained steadfastly by her side, refusing to leave her room even for meals, his worry etched deeply into his features. He sat by her bed, holding her hand and silently willing her to wake.

As the morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow across the room, Vaella's eyes fluttered open. She blinked against the brightness, her vision blurry and unfocused. Aegon noticed immediately, his heart leaping with hope.

"Vaella," he called softly, leaning closer. "Vaella, can you hear me?"

Her eyes slowly focused on him, narrowing slightly from the light. "Aegon?" she whispered weakly, her voice barely audible.

Aegon's face lit up with relief and joy. "Yes, it's me. You’re awake! You’ve been unconscious from your fall and your head injury."

Vaella frowned, confusion clouding her thoughts. "I didn't hit my head," she murmured, trying to piece together her fragmented memories.

But Aegon, too excited by her awakening to fully register her words, kissed her cheek quickly. "I have to tell the others! I’ll be back soon, I promise." With that, he rushed out of the room, eager to share the good news.

Left alone, Vaella tried to lift the fog from her mind and recollect what had happened. She felt a profound sense of sorrow and loneliness, emotions that seemed to have overwhelmed her completely. The last clear memory she had was of standing in Cannibal’s lair, the dragon’s menacing green eyes staring into her soul.

Cannibal.

The name sent a shiver down her spine. She remembered feeling an inexplicable connection with the fierce dragon, a bond forged in the depths of their shared loneliness. She tried to sit up, her head throbbing slightly, and closed her eyes, focusing on the events that led her to this moment.

Meanwhile, Aegon burst into the main hall, his face flushed with excitement. He found his family gathered there, still deep in conversation about Vaella’s condition and the recent discoveries.

“She’s awake!” Aegon announced, his voice filled with relief. “Vaella’s awake!”

The room erupted into a flurry of movement. Viserys, leaning heavily on his cane, looked up with hopeful eyes. Rhaenyra and Daemon exchanged relieved glances, while Alicent and Otto stood up, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

“We must see her,” Viserys declared, his voice filled with determination.

Back in Vaella’s room, she lay back against the pillows, her mind still clouded with confusion. The door opened, and her family entered, led by Aegon who returned to her side, taking her hand once more.

“Vaella,” Viserys said softly, his eyes filled with relief. “How do you feel?”

Vaella turned to her father, her voice still weak. “I... I’m confused. I don’t remember hitting my head. All I remember is... feeling so alone. And Cannibal.”

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her face etched with concern. “What happened in that cave, Vaella? Why did you seek out Cannibal?”

Vaella closed her eyes, trying to piece together her fractured memories. “I felt a pull, like something was calling me. The sorrow and loneliness... it was overwhelming. When I found Cannibal, it was like he understood. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Daemon nodded, his expression thoughtful. “The bond between dragon and rider is powerful, Vaella. It’s possible that Cannibal sensed your emotions and responded to them.”

Viserys squeezed her hand gently. “You did something extraordinary, Vaella.”

Aegon leaned closer, his eyes filled with admiration and relief. “You’re safe now, and that’s all that matters. We’ll figure out the rest together.”

…

In the following week, as Vaella slowly recovered, she spent much of her time with her sister Rhaenyra and her nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys. Their presence brought her comfort and a sense of normalcy. King Viserys, despite his ongoing health issues, ordered preparations for their return to the capital. The castle buzzed with activity as servants packed belongings, readied dragons, and made arrangements for the journey back to King’s Landing.

During breakfast on the day of their departure, Vaella found herself seated between Aegon and Aemond. The atmosphere in the hall was tense, the boys exchanging hard glares with their nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys, who sat at the opposite end of the table. A silent storm brewed, hinting at future conflicts.

Aegon’s attention, however, was soon entirely on Vaella. He placed a comforting hand on her knee beneath the table, his touch a silent promise of support and affection. Aemond, noticing his brother’s gesture, smirked slightly.

“I look forward to racing Vhagar with you and Cannibal back to the capital,” Aemond remarked, his tone teasing. “I can’t wait to see the people's faces when we arrive together.”

Aegon frowned, his competitive streak flaring. “That’s not fair, Aemond. Vaella should ride with me on Sunfyre.”

Aemond shook his head, his expression mockingly sympathetic. “You can’t hog Vaella’s attention on dragonback anymore, Aegon. She has her own dragon now.”

Vaella shook her head at her half-brothers' bickering, a small smile playing on her lips despite the tension. “I’m not even sure if Cannibal will obey me,” she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Aemond’s expression grew serious. “You must make him obey, Vaella. You’re his rider now. Show him your strength.”

Aegon scoffed, giving Vaella’s knee a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll do just fine, Vaella. Sunfyre listens to you, doesn’t he?”

Vaella sighed, her gaze thoughtful. “Sunfyre is different, Aegon. Cannibal was a wild dragon. It’s not the same.”

Aemond nodded, his expression understanding yet firm. “He was wild, but he chose you. That means something. You have to believe in that bond.”

Aegon leaned in closer, his voice softening. “And I believe in you, Vaella. You’re stronger than you think.”

Their words, though conflicting, offered her a mix of comfort and challenge. Vaella knew she had to find a way to assert her bond with Cannibal, but the uncertainty gnawed at her. She glanced down the table at Jacaerys and Lucerys, their youthful faces set with determination, and felt a pang of worry for the future. The tensions between their families were palpable, and she feared what lay ahead.

The rest of the breakfast passed with subdued conversation and the occasional sharp glance exchanged across the table. As the meal ended, Viserys stood, leaning heavily on his cane.

“We leave for King’s Landing shortly,” he announced, his voice steady despite his frailty. “I expect all of you to be ready.”

The family dispersed to make final preparations. Vaella lingered a moment, watching Aegon and Aemond as they argued good-naturedly about the upcoming flight. She felt Aegon’s hand slip into hers, a silent reassurance.

“Let’s get ready,” he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination.

Vaella nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yes, let’s.”

…

The time had come for Vaella to bid farewell to her family on Dragonstone. She approached her sister Rhaenyra, her heart heavy with emotion. Rhaenyra embraced her tightly, her voice thick with concern and love.

“Take care of yourself, Vaella,” Rhaenyra whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “And remember, you can always rely on your family.”

Vaella nodded, holding back her own tears. “I will, Rhaenyra. Thank you for everything.”

She then turned to her oldest nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys. Jacaerys gave her a firm hug, his youthful face set with determination. “Stay safe, Aunt Vaella. And if you ever need us, we’ll be there.”

Lucerys, a bit more reserved, nodded solemnly. “Good luck, Aunt Vaella. You’re stronger than you know.”

Vaella smiled, her heart swelling with affection for the boys. “Thank you, Jace, Luke. I’ll miss you both.”

Next, she approached Daemon’s twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena. Baela, ever spirited, grinned at her. “Show them what you’re made of, Vaella. Cannibal’s lucky to have you.”

Rhaena, more reserved, gave her a gentle hug. “Be careful, Vaella. We’ll be thinking of you.”

Finally, Vaella turned to Daemon himself. He stood with his arms crossed, a rare soft expression on his face. “Thank you, Daemon, for ensuring Cannibal is ready to be ridden back to King’s Landing.”

Daemon nodded, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and concern. “It was no easy task, but you’re ready. Show them what it means to be a Targaryen.”

With her farewells said, Vaella turned towards Dragonmont, where the castle met the endless caverns. The air grew cooler as she descended into the dark, the echo of her footsteps mingling with the distant sounds of dragons. Cannibal waited for her under the care of Dragonkeepers, who still looked wary of the massive beast.

As she approached, Cannibal’s huge head turned to her, their eyes locking. A soft, almost purring sound emitted from the dragon, encouraging her to come closer. Vaella felt a strange sense of longing and connection as she stepped forward, caressing his scales on the side.

“Hello, Cannibal,” she whispered, her voice filled with affection. The dragon’s green eyes watched her intently, a deep understanding passing between them. Unable to resist, Vaella hugged his side, feeling the warmth and strength of his body.

She looked up at the saddle made for her. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, made of black leather reinforced with steel, designed to accommodate the dragon’s unique structure. It had intricate silver embroidery, depicting dragons in flight, and a high backrest for added security. The Dragonkeepers had worked tirelessly to ensure it was both functional and regal.

“It was a challenge to put it on him,” one of the Dragonkeepers said, his voice respectful. “But we managed to bribe him with a large bull.”

Vaella smiled, appreciating their efforts. “Thank you for your hard work.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. When she opened them, her resolve was clear. She started to climb up to the saddle, her movements confident despite the lingering nervousness. Once secured, she felt a surge of adrenaline and excitement.

“Sōvēs,” Vaella commanded in High Valyrian, her voice ringing with authority.

With a powerful roar, Cannibal obeyed, his massive wings unfurling as he launched himself from the cavern. The rush of wind and the sudden brightness of daylight hit them both as they soared into the sky. Vaella’s heart raced with exhilaration, the sensation of flight overwhelming her senses.

Joining Sunfyre, Dreamfyre, and Vhagar in the skies, Cannibal roared in triumph. The other dragons acknowledged their presence, and together, they formed a magnificent procession, following the ships below as they made their way back to the capital.

…

As Vhagar and Cannibal soared over King’s Landing, the small folk below looked up in awe and trepidation. The sight of Vhagar, a legendary and immense dragon, alongside Cannibal, the feared and wild dragon, struck a mix of fear and wonder into the hearts of the people. Whispers and shouts filled the streets as children pointed to the sky and adults murmured prayers and exclamations of disbelief.

“By the Seven, look at the size of them!”

“Is that Cannibal? I thought he was just a legend!”

“What does this mean for the city? Are we safe?”

The dragons’ shadows cast long and ominous shapes over the buildings, creating an eerie contrast against the bright sky. The people of King’s Landing knew they were witnessing history, and the arrival of these magnificent creatures signaled the start of a new chapter for the Targaryen dynasty.

In the weeks that followed, the Red Keep buzzed with activity as preparations for the royal wedding of Prince Aegon and Princess Vaella were underway. Every corner of the castle was filled with bustling servants, decorators, and courtiers, all working tirelessly to ensure the ceremony would be a grand spectacle befitting the royal family.

Vaella paced slightly in one of the smaller sunrooms, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Helaena, sitting calmly with her embroidery, seemed a world away from the chaos surrounding them. She worked diligently, her fingers deftly stitching a delicate canopy design.

Vaella watched her half-sister for a moment, then turned to her, trying to distract herself from her wedding anxiety. “Helaena, how is your work coming along?”

Helaena looked up from her embroidery, her serene expression never faltering. “It’s going well, Vaella. This piece is for the new canopy in the gardens. It helps to keep my mind busy.”

Vaella smiled faintly, appreciating Helaena’s tranquility. “That sounds lovely. It must be nice to have something calming to focus on.”

Helaena nodded, then paused, her eyes meeting Vaella’s with an uncharacteristic intensity. “Are you looking forward to your wedding to Aegon? It’s all he talks about these days.”

Vaella frowned, her emotions conflicted. “I am looking forward to it, Helaena. But the way it was achieved casts a shadow over it. Aegon’s admission, even though it was a lie, could have impacted me quite differently if Father had reacted another way. Like he did with Rhaenyra.”

Helaena listened quietly, then returned her gaze to her embroidery. “Aegon does that a lot. He doesn’t think things through. But he loves you, Vaella. More than anyone, I think.”

Vaella sighed, her heart heavy with the complexity of her feelings. “I know he loves me. I just wish he had considered the consequences of his actions. It’s hard to forget how close I came to being disgraced, all because of a lie.”

Helaena’s hands moved gracefully over her work, her voice soft and reflective. “Sometimes love makes people act without thinking. It’s a flaw, but it’s also a sign of how deeply they care. Aegon’s love for you is strong, Vaella. Strong enough to drive him to desperate measures.”

Vaella nodded slowly, taking comfort in Helaena’s words. “You’re right. And I do love him, despite everything. I just need to find a way to reconcile that with what happened.”

Helaena looked up again, her serene eyes filled with understanding. “You will, Vaella. Love is complicated, but it’s also powerful. It can heal the deepest wounds if you let it.”

Vaella smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. “Thank you, Helaena. You always know what to say.”

Helaena returned her smile, a rare warmth in her expression. “We’re family, Vaella. We’ll get through this together.”

As the two sisters continued their conversation, the sunroom filled with a quiet sense of solidarity and hope.

…

Aegon sat in the ornately decorated chamber with his mother, Queen Alicent, and his grandsire, Otto Hightower. The room was filled with the soft glow of afternoon light filtering through the tall windows, casting a serene atmosphere over the otherwise tense discussion. The table before them was strewn with wedding preparations—lists of guests, fabric samples, and intricate designs for the ceremony.

Alicent leaned forward, her expression serious and maternal concern etched in every line of her face. "Aegon, you must not make a debacle out of this wedding. It’s an important affair, not just for you and Vaella, but for the entire realm. The eyes of the court and the smallfolk will be upon you."

Aegon, trying to appear nonchalant but feeling the weight of his mother’s words, nodded. "I understand, Mother. I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly."

Otto, sitting with his hands clasped in his lap, his expression one of stern disapproval, added, "It's already a debacle, Aegon, considering how this situation came to be. Your actions could have caused irreparable damage. But it is what we have to work with now. We must salvage what we can and turn this into an opportunity."

Aegon bristled slightly at his grandsire’s harsh words but held his tongue. He knew that Otto had every reason to be displeased. "I know, Grandsire. I regret how things happened, but I love Vaella. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right."

Alicent sighed, her eyes softening as she looked at her son. "We know you love her, Aegon. But love alone won’t smooth over the damage done. You must be mindful of your actions from here on out. This wedding needs to be perfect to reassure the court and the realm of our family’s unity and strength."

Otto leaned back, his gaze piercing as he studied his grandson. "You need to demonstrate responsibility and maturity, Aegon. This marriage is not just about your personal desires. It’s a political alliance that could stabilize or destabilize our position. Show the realm that you can be a capable leader, worthy of the Targaryen name."

Aegon took a deep breath, absorbing the gravity of their words. "I understand. I’ll make sure the wedding is flawless. Vaella deserves nothing less."

Alicent reached out and placed a hand on Aegon’s. "Remember, this is also about setting an example. The people need to see that you can be a strong and dependable leader, not just a prince who acts on impulse."

Aegon nodded, feeling a mixture of determination and apprehension. "I’ll prove myself, Mother. I’ll prove myself to all of you."

Otto’s stern expression softened ever so slightly. "Good. Then let’s discuss the final details of the ceremony. We need to ensure everything is in order."

…

Aegon and Aemond stood in the training yard, the clinking of their armor and the thud of their practice swords echoing through the space. Their armor was crafted in shades of grey and green, a nod to their Hightower heritage, a decision pushed by their mother, Queen Alicent. Viserys, too tired to argue, had let the change pass. Their armor lacked the traditional Targaryen black and red, a shift that symbolized more than just a change in fashion.

Ser Criston Cole, their instructor, watched them with a critical eye, his own armor gleaming in the morning sun. The boys' armor was adorned with motifs of the Faith of the Seven, another of Alicent's implementations in the Red Keep, which had become more prominent as the king's influence waned. The Faith's symbols pleased the devout but displeased those loyal to House Targaryen, who saw it as a dilution of their heritage.

As Aegon and Aemond sparred, their swords clashed with force, each trying to best the other. They moved with the fluidity of years of training, their bodies honed and strong.

Aegon grinned as he parried Aemond's strike. "The wedding is within the next moon. I can’t wait for the marital activities," he said, his voice dripping with anticipation.

Aemond, quicker and more precise with his strikes, used the opportunity to pull Aegon close, his voice a harsh whisper. "Control yourself, Aegon. You've done enough damage to Vaella's reputation and your own. Servants still find you in her bed. You need to show some restraint."

Aegon shrugged, annoyed. "It doesn’t matter anymore. We’ll be married soon. People should be happy their prince and princess have a healthy attraction to each other."

Ser Criston Cole, catching the end of their conversation, stepped forward, his expression stern. "Prince Aegon, you should show more respect when speaking about your future wife. This is not the talk of a man, let alone a prince."

Aegon frowned but held his tongue, a rare show of restraint.

Criston turned his gaze to both brothers, his tone sharp. "Focus on your training. You need to be prepared for more than just weddings and festivities. The realm looks to you both for strength and leadership."

The brothers resumed their sparring, their movements more precise, their minds focused. Aemond, always the more disciplined of the two, used the moment to drive his point home. "Aegon, you need to think beyond yourself. Our actions reflect on the family, on the realm."

Aegon grunted as he blocked another strike, his annoyance clear. "I know, Aemond. But sometimes I just want to live. To feel free."

Aemond sighed, his tone softening. "I understand. But we have responsibilities. Especially now."

Their sparring continued, the rhythm of their practice providing a brief respite from the weight of their duties. Criston watched, his expression a mix of pride and concern. He saw potential in both princes but knew that their path would not be easy.

As the sun climbed higher, the training yard grew warmer, and the brothers' movements became more intense. The clashing of swords, the shouts of exertion, and the occasional words of advice from Criston filled the air. It was a scene of discipline and determination, but also of underlying tension.

In the days leading up to the wedding, these training sessions became a constant, a way for Aegon and Aemond to prepare not just for the ceremony, but for the future that awaited them. The tension between their Targaryen legacy and their Hightower heritage, the increasing influence of the Faith, and the shifting dynamics of power within the Red Keep all weighed heavily on their shoulders.

Yet, amidst the chaos, they found moments of camaraderie and understanding. Aegon’s brashness balanced by Aemond’s discipline, Criston’s guidance, and the silent support of their mother and grandsire. It was a fragile balance, but for now, it held.

As they finished their sparring, sweat-drenched and breathless, Aemond placed a hand on Aegon’s shoulder. "Remember, we’re in this together. For Vaella, for the family, and for the realm."

Aegon nodded, a rare moment of seriousness crossing his features. "I know, Aemond. And I’ll do my best. For all of us."

Criston Cole watched them with a nod of approval. "Good. Now, clean up and prepare for the day. We have much to do before the wedding."

The brothers left the training yard, the weight of their responsibilities a little lighter for the moment. They knew the challenges ahead were many, but together, they would face them, as princes of House Targaryen and Hightower.

…

Vaella sat with her father, King Viserys, in his private chambers. The room was filled with the soft glow of candlelight, casting gentle shadows over the intricate model of Old Valyria that her father had painstakingly worked on for years. The table was cluttered with tiny buildings, miniature dragons, and detailed landscapes, all representing the glory of their ancestral home. Viserys's hands trembled slightly as he tried to place a small tower in its designated spot.

Vaella watched him with a mixture of admiration and sorrow. Her heart broke at the sight of her father, once strong and vigorous, now struggling with the simple task. She reached out to steady his hand, guiding the piece into place.

"Thank you, Vaella," Viserys said, his voice weak but filled with gratitude. "My hands aren't as steady as they used to be."

"It's alright, Father," Vaella replied softly. "I'm happy to help."

They continued working together, Vaella's nimble fingers handling the more delicate pieces while Viserys directed her with quiet instructions. Despite the joy she felt in sharing this moment with him, she couldn't ignore the pang of grief that twisted in her chest. Her father was fading, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

After a while, Viserys's movements slowed, and he leaned back in his chair, exhaustion overtaking him. "Vaella, I think that's enough for today. Help me to bed, please."

Vaella nodded, gently supporting her father as he rose from his chair. She guided him to his bed, the journey slow and careful. As she helped him settle under the covers, his eyes met hers, filled with a deep, unspoken sadness.

"Vaella," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I regret how little time I had for you. I was always so busy with the affairs of the realm. And now... I miss Rhaenyra, away on Dragonstone, and your mother. Your dear mother."

Tears welled up in Vaella's eyes as she listened to her father's heartfelt confession. "Father, don't say that. You've done so much for all of us. For the realm."

Viserys shook his head slowly. "But not enough for you, my sweet daughter. I wish I could have been there more. For you, for Rhaenyra, for all of you."

Vaella's heart ached with a familiar guilt. She felt responsible for the death of her mother, Queen Aemma, and her twin brother, Baelon, who had died shortly after birth. She believed that Baelon should have lived instead of her, a burden she carried silently.

"I miss them too, Father," Vaella whispered, her voice breaking. "Every day."

Viserys reached out and took her hand, his grip weak but comforting. "You mustn't blame yourself, Vaella. Your mother and brother... it was not your fault. You are a blessing, my child, and you have brought me so much joy."

Tears spilled down Vaella's cheeks as she squeezed her father's hand. "I love you, Father."

"I love you too, Vaella," Viserys replied, his eyes closing as he succumbed to his exhaustion. "Never forget that."

Vaella sat by his bedside, holding his hand until his breathing evened out and he drifted into a deep sleep. She watched him for a long time, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. The weight of her family's legacy, the upcoming wedding, and the personal guilt she carried felt almost unbearable.

Yet, in this quiet moment, she found a small measure of peace. Her father's words, though filled with regret, also carried a profound love that she would hold onto. She wiped her tears away and kissed his forehead gently.

"Rest well, Father," she whispered.

…

It was a warm summer night in the Red Keep, and Vaella was just preparing to retire for the night. The soft glow of candles illuminated her chambers, casting a warm and serene atmosphere. Vaella’s handmaiden, Lyanna, was helping her finish her nightly routine, their conversation light and filled with laughter.

“Thank you, Lyanna,” Vaella said, smiling as she ran a brush through her long, silver hair. “You’ve been a great help.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Princess,” Lyanna replied with a gentle smile. “Is there anything else you need before I go?”

Before Vaella could answer, the door to her chambers burst open, and Queen Alicent stormed in, dragging a visibly drunk Aegon behind her. The abrupt entrance startled both Vaella and Lyanna, and the room fell into an awkward silence.

“Alicent, what is going on?” Vaella asked, her voice filled with worry as she took in Aegon's disheveled appearance.

Alicent dismissed everyone in the room with a wave of her hand, her expression one of barely restrained fury. “Out. Now.”

Lyanna hurriedly left the room, casting a concerned glance at Vaella as she exited. Vaella turned her attention back to Alicent and Aegon, her heart pounding with concern.

“What happened?” Vaella asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Alicent's eyes flashed with anger. “Your brother thought it would be amusing to challenge several knights to a drinking contest in the middle of the training yard. He ended up toppling the practice dummies, breaking several valuable pieces of armor, and nearly setting the entire yard on fire when he knocked over a lantern. All while laughing like a madman and making a complete spectacle of himself.”

Vaella gasped, her worry deepening as she looked at Aegon. “Oh, Aegon…”

Aegon, his eyes glazed and unfocused, stumbled forward and clung to Vaella, burying his head in her neck. “Vaella…” he mumbled, his voice slurred. “I just wanted to have some fun…”

Alicent’s fury didn’t abate. “Set him straight, Vaella. He can’t be seen in this state around the Red Keep. He doesn’t listen to me and continuously humiliates our family. He needs to learn some responsibility.”

Vaella nodded, her voice calm but firm. “I’ll take care of him, Alicent.”

With a final, frustrated glare, Alicent turned and left the room, leaving Vaella alone with Aegon. She gently guided him to sit on the edge of her bed, his grip on her never loosening.

“Aegon, what were you thinking?” Vaella asked softly, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at her brother.

Aegon sighed, his head still resting against her shoulder. “I wasn’t… I just wanted to forget everything for a while. The pressure, the expectations… it’s all too much sometimes.”

Vaella stroked his hair gently, her touch soothing. “I understand, but you can’t keep doing this. You have to find a better way to cope.”

Aegon looked up at her, his eyes pleading. “I know. I just… I feel so lost sometimes, Vaella. But when I’m with you, it all feels better.”

Vaella’s heart ached for him. She knew the burden he carried, and she wished she could take it all away. “You’re not alone, Aegon. I’m here for you, always. But you have to promise me you’ll try to do better.”

Aegon nodded, his expression earnest despite his drunken state. “I promise, Vaella. I’ll try.”

Vaella smiled softly, her hand still gently stroking his hair. “That’s all I ask. Now, let’s get you to bed.”

Aegon clung to her as she helped him lie down, his grip on her hand firm. “Stay with me, Vaella. Just for a while.”

Vaella nodded, sitting beside him and holding his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Aegon.”

As the night wore on, the room remained quiet, the warmth of the summer night wrapping around them.

Vaella looked down at Aegon, her expression gentle and filled with concern. "Aegon, our wedding is in a few days. Your mother and grandsire will take your head off if it ends in disaster because of your behavior."

Aegon sighed heavily, his eyes closed as he battled the effects of the alcohol. "I know, Vaella," he murmured, his voice a mix of resignation and frustration. "I know."

After a moment, he opened his eyes and pulled her closer, his gaze softening as he inhaled deeply. "You smell nice," he whispered, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Vaella rolled her eyes, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You're drunk, Aegon."

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Tomorrow, when I wake up, I won’t be. And you’ll still smell nice."

Vaella's gaze softened further as she pondered what she would do with him. He was a handful, but he was her handful. Aegon pulled her closer, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that quickly deepened. His hands roamed over her familiar curves, tracing the contours of her body with a need that had been building for far too long.

Just as he feverishly began to undo the lower parts of his attire and moved to adjust her nightwear, Vaella stopped him through their kiss. Aegon halted sharply, his hands stilling, but he whined into another kiss, his frustration evident. "Why? We’ll be wed soon, and nobody really cares anymore."

His frustration boiled over, his voice desperate. "We’re always so close, but someone always interrupts us, or you stop it abruptly. I know you want it too, Vaella."

Vaella blushed as he continued to kiss along her jaw, her resolve wavering. He then asked, his voice low and insistent, "Why do you think my mother brought me to your chambers? She doesn’t care anymore either. She wants you to control me, by any means.”

Vaella’s eyes widened in realization. Alicent just ignored her own upbringing and what Faith was teaching her. Alicent was even bypassing the base decency she always tried to maintain. This was a calculated move, a way to bind Aegon to her more tightly, to ensure he behaved.

The weight of the realization hit her, but as Aegon’s kisses grew more insistent, her thoughts became hazy. She felt his hands on her skin, the warmth of his body pressing against hers, and the deep connection they shared.

As they continued to kiss, Vaella’s mind raced with conflicting emotions. She loved Aegon deeply, and the thought of being with him in every way was both thrilling and terrifying. But there was also the responsibility she felt, the need to ensure that their union was strong and respected.

For now, she let herself be swept away by the moment, her worries fading into the background. Aegon’s touch was familiar and comforting, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to simply feel, to be in the present with the man she loved.

Vaella’s resistance slowly melted away under Aegon’s fervent kisses and tender touches. As her resolve weakened, Aegon seized the opportunity to continue, breaking their kiss to look deeply into her eyes. His gaze was feverish, filled with a longing that had been building for what felt like an eternity.

“Go on,” he whispered huskily, his breath warm against her lips.

Vaella took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. She guided his manhood into her slowly, gasping as the pain of her maidenhead breaking surged through her. She stilled on top of him, closing her eyes tightly as she tried to come to terms with the reality of what they were doing and the myriad of sensations coursing through her.

Aegon, for his part, basked in the pleasure of the moment he had wanted for so long. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her steady as he whispered soothingly. “You’re doing great, Vaella. I’m here with you.”

She nodded, her breath hitching as she adjusted to the new sensations. After a moment of stillness, she began to move tentatively, prompting a small moan from both of them. The initial pain started to fade, slowly shifting to a budding pleasure.

“You’re incredible, Vaella,” Aegon murmured, his voice filled with admiration and love. “I’ve wanted this for so long… to be with you like this.”

Vaella’s movements became more confident, and she could feel the pain giving way to a new, unfamiliar pleasure. She opened her eyes and looked down at Aegon, who was gazing up at her with pure adoration.

Their movements became synchronized, the rhythm of their bodies matching the beating of their hearts. As the intensity of their connection grew, so did the pace, each thrust and motion more urgent and desperate than the last. The world outside their intimate bubble ceased to exist, leaving only the sensations they shared.

Vaella was swept away by the new and overwhelming sensations coursing through her. She felt a mixture of emotions: the lingering ache of pain giving way to waves of pleasure, the uncertainty of their actions replaced by the certainty of their love. Her breaths came in quick, shallow gasps as she moved with Aegon, their bodies working together in perfect harmony.

Aegon's hands guided her hips, his touch both firm and tender. He whispered words of encouragement and love, his voice rough with passion. "You're amazing, Vaella. I love you so much."

Vaella's own voice was breathless as she responded, "I love you too, Aegon. I love you so much."

Their shared rhythm grew more frantic, the peak of their pleasure approaching rapidly. Vaella felt herself teetering on the edge of something profound and beautiful, a sensation she had never experienced before. She clung to Aegon, her nails digging into his shoulders as she sought to reach that peak with him.

"Together," Aegon murmured, his voice a mix of command and plea. "Let's reach it together."

Vaella nodded, her eyes locked onto his, their gazes filled with mutual need and love. She focused on the feeling of Aegon inside her, the way their bodies moved as one, and the incredible rush of sensations building within her.

The world around them seemed to blur and fade, leaving only the intensity of their shared experience. As the waves of pleasure built to a crescendo, Vaella felt her body trembling, her breath hitching in her throat. Aegon’s grip tightened, his own breaths growing ragged and urgent.

With one final, synchronized movement, they reached their peak together. Vaella cried out, her voice a mix of ecstasy and relief, as the sensations washed over her. Aegon’s own release followed, his body shuddering with the force of it. For a moment, they were lost in the sheer intensity of their shared pleasure, their bodies and souls entwined.

As the waves of their climax subsided, Vaella collapsed onto Aegon, her heart racing and her body spent. Aegon wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they both caught their breath.

"That was... incredible," Vaella whispered, her voice filled with awe and love.

Aegon kissed the top of her head, his own voice tender. "It was. I love you, Vaella. More than anything in this world."

Vaella snuggled closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment and connection. "I love you too, Aegon. Always."

In the quiet aftermath, they lay together, their bodies still entwined. The challenges and uncertainties of the future seemed distant and insignificant in the face of their love. For now, they had each other, and that was enough.

#game of thrones #romance #dragons #house of the dragon #viserys targaryen #daemon targaryen #alicent hightower #otto hightower #aemond targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #aegon x oc #aegon ii targaryen

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the-ephemeral-ethereal · 8 months ago

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The Two Towers Listening / Reading Order

What follows is a suggested listening / reading order of The Two Towers that I've been working on. I enjoy it so much, I felt the need to share. The idea first came from my annoyance of hearing none of Andy Serkis' Gollum in the first half of the audiobook, and then all of it in the second. I also think it improves the narrative experience overall, as I think it becomes easier to follow all storylines across the trilogy this way. I also think it naturally lends itself to being chunked into three Parts, instead of Tolkien's original two (especially if you're going to take significant breaks and / or enter-exit at certain key points). The first number per line below is of the suggested listening / reading order. The X:X number indicates the Book:Chapter originally sequenced by Tolkien. I also included the chapter titles.

Part I

3:1 The Departure of Boromir

4:1 The Taming of Sméagol

3:2 The Riders of Rohan

4:2 The Passage of the Marshes

3:3 The Uruk-Hai

4:3 The Black Gate is Closed

3:4 Treebeard

Part II

4:4 Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit

3:5 The White Rider

4:5 The Window on the West

3:6 The King of the Golden Hall

4:6 The Forbidden Pool

4:7 Journey to the Cross-Roads

3:7 Helm's Deep

Part III

3:8 The Road to Isengard

4:8 The Stairs of Cirith Ungol

3:9 Flotsam and Jetsam

4:9 Shelob's Lair

3:10 The Voice of Saruman

3:11 The Palantir

4:10 The Choices of Master Samwise

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lairofdeer · 16 days ago

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hoi! i'm deer! ✧˖° >:3

name: deer

gender: transfem deergirl!!

1st person pronouns: I/we/senn (explained here!)

3rd person pronouns: doe/it/she/pup

age: 20-30 chrono (it's a light secret lol), 11-15 trans

species: whitetail deer and wolf!!

other ids: transage, transdeity, pet, thing/toy/tool :3

sexuality: pansexual omniromantic

This is my "secret" lair where I post about paraphilias and identity stuff!! :3 I want to encourage everyone to embrace who/what they are, including the bits that might be "socially unacceptable"!! No one should ever feel guilty about the way they are - we all have our quirks!! Paraphilias, therianthropy, and other aspects of identity are so demonized by society as a whole - this is my lair, and identity alone is something I'll never judge for 😌

If you want to see my horny posts, make sure explicit posts are visible in your settings!!

DMs and asks are always open!! I love interaction!! Feel free to compliment, request, insult, praise, show off, ask, or anything else you might ever want! >w<

THIS BLOG IS STRICTLY ANTI-CONTACT WHEN CONSENT CANNOT BE APPROPRIATELY GIVEN.

Many posts here are sexual and/or horny in nature, and present fantasies which would be impossible or unethical in reality.

If this sort of content isn't for you, please move on/block!!

Feral and age (sanitized terms lol) are my main two paras, especially the first, but I have many, many more!! Here is a key for my general list below! ^w^

🦿, 💐, 🍬, 🫁, 📸, 🍭, 😘🔪, 🌼, 👏🪄, 🪽😇, 🌹, 🕊️🐾, 🪢, 👹, 🫀, 🦴, ❄️, 🙌✨, 🩸, 🛐, 👥, 🤰, 🍸, ⚙️, 🥩, 🌈🐾, ⚰️, 🌙, 🐊, 🚰, 🔪, 🥄, 🥄4️🥄, 😱, ⚾, 🗣️💬💔, ❣️, 💁, 💤, 🐙, 🖤, 🩹, 👄, 🐺🐾, 🐾

I'm not shy about this stuff! If you're curious (or share interests), why not send in an ask or dm? ;) No pressure tho!! :3

#this is a new intro post lol i didnt like the old one that much #introductory post #pro paraphilia #pro para

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shadowheartwhisperer · 8 months ago

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I don't know if anyone else does this, but I wanted to share my particular cope with my bg3 hyoerfixation.

Below the "read more" is the roadmap for my playthrough with my resisted durge Dinah, romancing Shadowheart (for the 40th time, I am not being hyperbolic).

Dinah Restart Roadmap

Notes -

Don't learn about Halsin, at all

Get Zorru then save Sazza and follow gut lead then kill leaders after gut confrontation

Agree to kill leaders because you need time to find Iron for Karlach upgrade

After leaders don't attend party, go to creche instead

Nautiloid

- fail to open Shadowheart's pod (time to save scum)

Beach

- talk to Shadowheart, don't join up

- fight brains

- kill mindflayer

- see Gale but leave without interacting

- rest (urge)

Day 2

- enter ruins - beach side

- get Withers

- find bandits - run for it

- grove fight

- don't talk to Zevlor

- recruit Shadowheart

- rest - how do you feel?

Day 3

- back to ruins

- get Lae'zel

- clear ruins

- rest - hand hurt

Day 4

- get Wyll

- save Mirkon

- play with Alfira

- talk to Arabella's parents

- save Arabella

- find lead on Kagha

- meet Mol - agree to steal idol

- zorru

- save Sazza

- rest - playing with artifact + last night in camp

Day 5

- Investigate Kagha - mud mephits

- go backwards through blighted village (we got lost)

- cross bridge, fight hyenas

- meet paladins

- Recruit Karlach

- expose Kagha

- knock out Alfira

- rest - Quill

Day 6

- inquisition

- Gith Convoy (fail, Shadowheart escapes and resurrects everyone)

- kill Paladins

- steal idol

- talk to Dammon

- rest - Mizora

Day 7 (don't find metal)

- get Gale

- get Astarion

- Owlbear cave

- Scratch

- Smuggler's ring

- Wakeens rest

- kill all gnolls

- meet the zhent

- open barn

- save Barcus

- Necromancers Basement

- Spiders (if we have the stamina) through well

- rest - Astarion bite

Day 8

- Andrik and Brynna

- talk to Zevlor

- goblin camp - courtyard stuff

- goblin indoor stuff

- get brand

- get kidnapped by Gut

- kill Gut

- save Volo

- Ask Shadowheart thoughts on parasite

- rest - Dream Visitor

Day 9

- talk about dream (Shadowheart gets ersatz eye while talking)

- chicken chasing

- poison Goblins

- knock out Minthara

- Kill Ragzlin

- pick off straggler goblins

- rest - ?

Day 10

- return to Zevlor - lie and agree to party

- fix Karlach's heart

- fight Gith convoy

- to Crèche, no party

- rest -

Day 11

- buy what we want from Esther then kill her

- Kobolds

- Gremishka

- Open door to monastery

- place 3 weapons

- rest - owl bear cub

Day 12

- place last weapon

- Enter Crèche

- Do Crèche stuff

- get Lae'zel's son

- Zaith'isk

- Captain

- inquisitor

- prism

- rest - owl bear cub 2

Day 13

- blood of Lathander

- fight our way out of Crèche

- Give Gale last treat

- back to first area

- rest - Voss

Day 14

- bah at redcaps

- auntie Ethel

- Gale gets eye

- into Ethel's lair

- take deal and Mayrina CON +1

- resurrect Connor

- meet Gandrel

- get crossbow

- to grove

- meet Halsin

- get Sorrow

- rest - Lae'zel and Shadowheart confrontation

Day 15

- open Selûnite way to Underdark

- spectator

- bulette

- boooal

- arcane tower - except last floor

- rest - ?

Day 16

- top floor arcane tower

- Duergar on beach

- myconid colony

- Omeluum

- find Baelin

- Filro

- back to colony

- rest - ?

Day 17

- to Grymforge - use brand

- architect dude

- rothe

- get Shar idol

- conspire with duergar

- return Sargent's boots

- talk to gnomes

- fight merregon

- fight ooze

- find Philomen

- kill dudes by water

- Poison slavers

- talk to spiders

- kill myrmath

- rest - ?

Day 18

- Nere

- get monk necklace

- turn in head

- last minute shopping

- rest - ?

Day 19

- take elevator to Shadowlands

- send Elmister to camp

- talk to crew

- learn about Shar worship

- save Harpers

- meet He who was

- talk to Elminster

- talk to everyone

- start long rest - Mizora

- ask about Shar Worship

- rest - dream visitor

Day 20

- test dark Justiciar Convo

- to last light

- get Karlach upgrade

- talk to Mattis

- talk to Florrick

- talk to Cerys

- talk to Alfira

- talk to Barcus

- talk to His Majesty

- talk to Raphael, no Astarion

- talk to Mol

- shop

- talk to Rolan

- talk to Jaheira

- talk to Isobel

- fight Marcus

- start long rest

- ask to get to know Shadowheart

- rest - Sceleritas

Day 21

- Mother Superior?

- memory?

- shitload of shopping

- Harper ambush

- save Rolan

- back to last light, check on Rolan

- talk to Bex

- talk to Shadowheart about hand hurt?

- rest - dance with Wyll?

Day 22

- Gerringothe Thorm

- finish off patrol

- moonrise

- trial

- Dungeons

- save gnomes, teiflings & Minthara

- tell Isobel you won't hurt her

- recruit Minthara

- talk to everyone

- start long rest

- missed our chance?

- rest - Gale?

Day 23

- blood merchant

- gnoll Control

- talk to Z'rell

- explore Balthazar's room

- explore moonrise

- meet absolute

- rest - blood merchant talk

Day 24

- Back to first area

- get noblestalk

- go past poison geysers area

- get mithril

- fight grym

- forge stuff... Dunno what

- rest - drinks with m'lady

Day 25

- maybe don't talk to her right away

- any other cleanup stuff that could be in first area

- back to Shadowlands

- Thisobald

- get ledger

- town square fight

- find Arabella

- start long rest

- dtr with Shadowheart

- rest - ?

Day 26

- back to he who was

- fight trees

- play hide and seek

- shopping

- rest - ?

Day 27

- find Arabella's parents

- Malus Thorm

- morgue

- Kua toa

- up the hill to Raphael

- tell Arabella bad news

- rest - ?

Day 28

- wake art cullagh

- defend portal for Halsin

- shop!

- clear moonrise docks

- enter mausoleum

- talk to Arabella - cooled off?

- rest - ?

Day 29

- Enter temple of Shar

- first trial

- wall of bone and blade

- learn about trials

- to camp - talk about being in temple

- Meet Balthazar - agree to work with him for now

- kill Yurgir

- lick spider/start rat fight

- finish rat fight

- rest - stupid Raphael

Day 30

- last minute shopping

- town square trials

- Shar Olympics

- pray before Shadowfell

- last, last minute shopping

- questioning faith Convo, pretty please?

- enter Shadowfell

- kill Balthazar

- save Nightsong

- talk to camp

- to last light by way of shadowed battlefield

- talk to Isobel

- assault on moonrise

- Ketheric first defeat

- dtr with Shadowheart part 2

- rest - urge

Day 31

- illithid colony - Shadowheart, Wyll & Jaheira?

- get Us

- save Zevlor

- mizora

- get Wyll's sword

- remember to fucking talk to companions!

- check Durge pod

- Kressa

- big room full of dudes

- Brain machine

- kill Ketheric

- talk to everyone in moonrise

- leave moonrise

- rest - Shadowheart truth (no talk before sleep)

Day 32

- take Halsin to Oliver

- break curse

- Selûnite Resistance quest

- ritual circle

- last minute shopping

- gith patrol

- double, triple, check done with everything

- leave act 2

- chat around camp

- smooch lady many times

- rest - fucking stupid emperor

Day 33

- talk to everyone

- enter Rivington - Shadowheart, Jaheira, and Minthara

- swap Shadowheart for Wyll

- meet Ferg - bound weapon buy all shit

- swap in Astarion

- Talk to strange ox (w/Astarion and Minthara)

- meet gur

- back to main team (Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Karlach)

- help refugees in house

- enter circus, don't talk to dryad, maybe dribbles (save scum to learn if it effects love test)

- genie

- get trident

- meet necromancer lady

- steal hat

- go to open hand temple

- agree to solve murder

- help monk

- fight doppelgangers in cave

- exit to beach

- find dying guy/Orin

- fight guild and stone Lord dudes

- rest - Vlaakith

Day 34

- meet Ferg w/Shadowheart

- break into toymaker's basement

- Wyrm's Crossing

- meet gnomes

- take Astarion to meet siblings

- shakedown toymaker

- talk to stupid fucking elephant

- Voss

- tell Raphael to fuck off

- circle back to learn about bear bombs

- Harper ambush

- Wyrm's Rock

- learn Bhaalspawn heritage

- steal flaming fist uniform

- coronation

- rest - mizora (sandcastles?)

Day 35

- lower city

- talk to Jaheira

- find guild

- talk to nine fingers

- counting house

- get Minsc through back entrance

- back to guild, deal with Zhent

- rest - Minsc and Jaheira watch me sleep?

Day 36

- follow up on murders

- elf song

- rats in basement

- stupid emperor dumb shit

- save lady at wine tasting

- find bodies

- talk to lady at salty mermaid

- save Figaro

- meet Araj

- stop the presses

- rest - ?

Day 37

- hag survivors

- follow up with Vanra's mom

- salty mermaid, Ethel

- fight redcaps

- fight masked people

- fight Ethel, save Vanra

- follow up with Vanra

- follow up with Mayrina

- rest

(Should have had either kidnapping or Astarion family reunion at this point maybe both)

Day 38 (swap to immediately after kidnapping, if needed)

- Get elf song room

- go to coffin makers place, whatever

- unholy assassin

- buy all good stuff

- kill Saravok anyway

- snoop to learn about Orin

- go to sewers

- fight dumbshit sorcerer

- buy sweet druid robes

- open way to Bhaal's temple

- rest - ?

Day 39

- Bhaal trial

- find brain rats

- chat with Sceleritas

- go to Orin's room

- chat with her mother

- confront Orin

- kill Orin

- huzzah!

- rest - ?

Day 40

- find grave, leave night orchid

- find grafitti

- house of grief maybe?

- prepare to cry maybe?

- if we have stamina - fight poltergeists

- rest - cry my eyes out

Day 41

- go to hell

- house of hope

- kill Raphael, the bastard

- steal Voss' Silver Sword for me

- get Lae'zel's silver sword

- find mummy lord

- find zombie

- track down organs

- kill mummy lord

- return to Oskar

- tell Jannath she can do better

- rest - ?

Day 42 -

- Save Volo

- break into foundry

- talk to blind dude

- wavemother, agree to kill monster

- to society of brilliance

- talk to Blurg

- Jaheira's house

- sorcerers sundries

- fucking Aradin

- Laroakan

- Vault

- stupid Gale

- meet Mystra

- shopping, stalk up for iron throne

- Worg warehouse

- rest - ?

Day 43

- Iron Throne

- get Wavemother dress

- how are we feeling? If all good start ansur

- love test first

- do all trials

- rest - ?

Day 44

- fight ansur

- feeling ok? Start Cazador's Manor

- clear upper level

- rest - ?

Day 45

- talk to skull

- kill Cazador

- prepare to cry

- not too beat? Fireworks!

- rest - ?

Day 46

- *sigh Gortash

- lead out to roof? Stand in one place, ranged only? Either way, try not to set off traps

- talk to other 2 first, then karlach

- cry

- talk to companions again

- cry

- talk to Karlach again

- cry

- anything to clean up?

- rest - ?

Day 47

- anything you've forgotten?

- did you steal the tithes?

- did you find dribbles?

- mindflayer in windmill?

- dryad sex worker?

- adventurer's dad?

- double, triple, quadruple check

- rest - ?

Day 48

- brain rats

- fight brain

- win!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 shadowheart #shadowheart #bg3 durge #durge #baldur's gate shadowheart #baldurs gate 3 #BG3 roadmap for Dinah #baldurs gate shadowheart #baldurs gate durge #baldur's gate durge

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themulitipurposechannel · 3 months ago

Note

Hello!

I LOVE your story!!! CJ having healing Ninpo is so genius and it’s making my brain run wild with possibilities!

Are there any tidbits you’d like to share about the au? Also could you possibly explain what happened with CJ aging due to Ninpo (in the latest update)?

(No need to answer any of the questions if you do not want to)

AWESOME COMIC, AWESOME STORY, AWESOME ART!!! I can’t wait to see more!!!

Hope you have a great day ^-^

BDJDHDHDHDHD Aww dude stop you have no idea how happy this makes me 😭 I’m so so so happy you love my au!! 💗💗💗 I love the concept of Casey with healing powers! He’s has a temper but I still think suits him so well given how protective he is as a person ahah!! And I’m so glad there are ppl out there who agree with me too! But Hehe yesss join me join me in my healer!Cj brain worms hehehe

Hmm since you asked bout the aging(and that’s a little complicated) I’ll answer that first. So I can’t go into too much detail cuz that will spoilers for a comic and some other art that will explain everything! ..Maybe😂 But I will say this. Cj unlocked his Ninpo when he was 10 he was fine, he was aging normally. Till a certain incident happened when he was 11 and well.. we all know what happened next, freshly baked trauma and he aged a couple years forward overnight plus some extra long term injuries (that I will go into later).

The good news is that as long as he doesn’t push himself like that again he will be aging mostly linearly again? But the damage has alr been done 😅. But anyways, after the incident, he never pushed himself like that again. One, cuz the Hamato fam would never allow it and Two, cuz the recovery period is so long/bad (cuz Cj is no master and worse he’s a literal child unlike Mikey who was in his early 20s when the cursed Aging started) no one can afford for him to be knocked out of commission like that again. It makes him wayy too vulnerable.

Post-incident, at his worst he has only aged a few days forward but cuz that’s so small no one except Master Michelangelo (cuz he’s a mystic master and cuz he’s also in the same boat) can tell the difference. Plus it’s so negligible it doesn’t technically matter.

But long story short, pulling himself tgt from that incident physically and mentally took loooonnng time haha. But as you can see even now it still leaves its scars haha and probably always will.

As for any other tidbits? Oh gosh where do I start ? Ahh there is just so much to say! Ok update wise I’m actually working a PMV for Healer!Cj so if I go quiet for a while that’s why. Idk how long it’s gonna take but I’m excited to show some sneak peaks along the way lol. This is my first time doing something like this so here’s to hoping it goes well!

Lore wise: although Cj does have a subway car in the lair. Once he gets more settled in he actually bounces around quite a bit. Boy was not meant to stay in one place for too long. While he does spent most of the week at the lair cuz the underground is familiar too him, he will spend 3-4 days crashing on the couch at April/Casey’s apartment. And on a rare blue moon he’ll give Draxum a heart attack 😂 by breaking into his apartment and sleeping on that old man’s couch. After a while it becomes their own little inside joke 😂. Draxum tries Cj-proof his apartment using mystic or otherwise and Cj makes it a point to still try and sneak in.

And the surprise of no one. In this Au, Uncle Mi is Cj’s favourite uncle. Sometimes second pesudo dad. But mostly on accident by a very sleep deprived Cj.

I have plans for P!Casey to eventually develop Ninpo a few years down the line. But I can’t think of any powers for her so if ya’ll got any suggestions pls fire away.

And oh P!Leo is gonna permanently need a leg brace. Sometimes on rlly rlly bad days, he will need to use a crutch (not that he ever does cuz he’s wayy to stubborn) but you get the picture.

Raph’s eye is permanently gone, Donnie and his shell will heal but bro will have chronic back pain for life plus certain parts of his shell where the tendrils dug into the thickest are now numb cuz ya know, nerve damage from being literally ripped out the technodrone. Mikey will need to wear compression gloves but his shaking gets significantly better over time. So he draw but he still needs to every two months or so he can get pretty bad flareups which are jsut Oof.

Good news is April is fine aside from a broken arm during the invasion that will heal. Splinter was surprisingly not that badly injured just a few pulled muscles here and there. And Cj is Obvi fine too aside from a minor concussion that he got prior to time traveling. Which to him was basically nothing. The reactions by everyone else was hilarious and a major culture shock for Cj. Turns out his apocalypse pain scale was drastically different to their normal not apocalypse pain scale.

It was hilarious the gang were like: “you’ve running around taking care of us a lot. Are you good?”

Cj: “yup all fine. Just a few bumps and scrapes”

8 Hours later..

Cj: “It looks like everyone’s settled? Great. I’ll go grab painkillers for my concussion now.”

Them: “I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WERE GOOD!?”

Long story short no one escaped the failed invasion unscathed :’D but also whoops sorry for the long ramble 😅 this kidna got away for me 😂

#save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #rottmnt #healer cj #healer cj au #healer cj asks #bad future mikey

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hollybyrde · 9 months ago

Text

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10

Chapter 11: Broken

WC: 4999 | AO3 link

The house was a flurry of activity, with everyone rushing around to make their final preparations as the clock ticked down to dusk when they would set off for Benny’s to put their plan into motion one last time.

At least Eddie hoped this would be the last time.

He didn’t see Steve again until they arrived at the old abandoned burger place and started unloading the sound system, speakers, and wire from the back of his van, stacking it all near the gate that led to the Upside Down.

Hopper and Nancy stood guard with weapons drawn as he and Steve traversed back and forth into the other dimension, making sure everything was set up and ready to go for Robin and Chrissy to provide the distraction that would draw the bats away from Vecna’s lair.

They stole sideways glances at each other as they worked, not speaking or even properly making eye contact until El pulled them both aside to talk.

“It does not change much from your side of things, but I wanted to explain. I will not be piggybacking into Eddie’s mind. I will wait until Henry is distracted and go into his mind directly.”

Eddie tilted his head, impressed. It was a good idea to change tactics. “Like sneaking in the back door while he’s looking out the front. Okay, yeah, I get it.”

“Yes!” She agreed brightly. “Since he has seen in your mind and has an idea of our plan he will be looking for me in your memories, while I will be sneaking in through his.”

“So what do you need me to do?”

“You still need to think of some happy memories to hide in. The longer you keep him busy, the more time I have to get close before he realizes. The important thing is, you must keep moving, do not let him get too close. I will not be looking for you, so you will be on your own. Jonathan will signal Joyce again with the flashlight when it is time for Steve to pull you out.”

She held Eddie’s gaze firmly until he nodded his understanding, then turned to Steve. “But—If he starts to float, do not wait. Pull him out right away.”

Steve dipped his chin. “I will.”

“What if you need more time?” Eddie asked.

“I won’t.” She insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

All too soon it was time to separate, the goodbyes and good lucks a bit more somber this time around without the rest of the kids there to witness it.

Hopper gave Eddie an unexpected pat on the back before walking off with Joyce to share a private moment by the cars. Jonathan shook his hand, while Nancy gave him a warm smile and a squeeze on the arm before the two of them wandered off as well, keeping an eye on El while she waited for her dad.

Robin was the next to approach, pulling him into a surprisingly tight hug, and whispering a quiet “good luck” before giving up her place to Chrissy and making her way over to where Steve stood.

Chrissy took him into her arms, rocking them side to side as she buried her face in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing her in as he held her back, this precious girl, the only constant he’d really allowed himself to have this go around. She whispered soft words of encouragement to him, making him promise to stay safe while he did the same to her.

When they finally broke apart he found himself staring over her shoulder at the place where he and Steve had shared their own emotional goodbye in the last loop, the moment everything had changed, when he’d been cradled so gently in the other boy’s arms.

It was the same spot where Steve stood now, holding Robin this time, as they too made quiet promises to each other to be careful, where he gave her his baby, his precious nail bat to protect herself with, because weapons would be of no use to him where they were going, wouldn’t help if and when Eddie started to float.

“Remember, no matter what happens, one way or another I’ll see you on the other side.” Chrissy said, drawing his attention back.

He tried to smile at her, to nod, but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t allow for much more than a twitch of his upper lip. He took her hand instead, squeezed it.

“See you on the other side, Chris.”

He looked up again to find Steve’s eyes on him now too, and they walked together in silence to Steve’s car, Joyce already waiting for them in the passenger seat.

Eddie did his best to clear his head on the way to the Creel house, staring out the window as he cataloged the happiest moments of his life, pretending not to notice the way Steve kept trying to catch his eye in the rear view mirror.

To be extra safe, they parked Steve’s BMW behind the dilapidated house where it couldn't be seen from the street. There was no reason to think Jason would be out looking for them this time, but they were taking no risks.

Before they parted in the front yard, her for the jungle gym across the street, and them for the attic where they suspected Vecna would be lurking on the other side, Joyce faced them both and smiled.

“You can do this honey, I know you can,” she said, cupping Eddie’s cheek with one hand before doing the same to Steve with her other. “Take care of each other up there. I’ll come check on you after the final signal.”

Eddie could feel Steve's gaze on him again, the weight of it heavy, as they held their lamps aloft and carefully climbed the stairs to the attic. They had to be as quiet as possible, so as not to draw Vecna’s attention before the others were ready.

They took up positions by a window, leaning against the wall on either side of it so they could see out to where Joyce was waiting to signal them, and after a moment of eerie silence, where they could hear nothing but the barest of sounds emanating from both of their headphones, Steve pulled a notebook and pen out of the inner pocket of his jacket, scribbling something on it quickly before holding it out to Eddie.

Scared?

Eddie made no move to take the pad out of his hand, only stared down at the single word inked there in stark black on the white page. He swallowed hard, shrugging as he looked away from Steve’s penetrating stare.

Of course he was scared, he wanted to say. He was fucking terrified.

That their plan wouldn’t work—that it would.

That he’d die and it would all start over again—that he’d die and it wouldn’t, no more 1ups, game over.

Steve pulled the notebook back to himself, flipped to a fresh page and wrote again, shoving both the pad and pen forcibly into Eddie’s hands, as if to say he wouldn’t take silence for an answer this time.

Why didn’t you want me here?

Though they were more than fair, the words stung to see.

God—Eddie had really fucked up, hadn’t he? And it wasn’t like this was the first time it occurred to him that he’d handled things badly this time around, he was well aware, but it was hitting him hard now as Steve stared at him, looking so hurt and angry.

But what could he do? They were out of time for confessions or explanations.

Eddie wrote back, knowing his short apology was entirely inadequate, but it was all he could offer under the current circumstances.

I'm sorry, It’s complicated.

Steve read the note with a clenched jaw, shaking his head.

The signal came then, three flashes through the window from Joyce, and Eddie was officially out of time. He met Steve’s wounded gaze and wished he’d been brave enough to do it all differently.

At that moment Eddie made up his mind, and maybe it was a little—or a lot—too late, but he decided this was it, it was going to work this time. He could do this, El could do this, they could all do this. And when it was over he would tell Steve everything—all of it. From what they’d been to each other once—what he’d hoped they’d been at least—to how he felt about him now. He would hold nothing back, and whatever would be, would be. At least then he could say he’d tried.

Steve started to tuck the notepad away but Eddie reached out to grip his wrist, stopping him, and gently pried it out of his hand, jotting his last words down as quickly as he could.

He pressed the pad of paper back into Steve’s grip, holding it for a few beats longer than necessary, letting their touch linger as he looked deep into Steve’s eyes one last time, pleading with him to understand.

I AM sorry. Talk later? Let me explain?

Steve pursed his lips, face softening slightly as he took the words in.

Suddenly there was another flash on the window, Joyce signaling them again with her light. They needed to hurry.

Eddie gave Steve a sad smile, wordlessly removing his headphones and handing them over along with the Walkman he unclipped from his belt. He turned, feeling safe with Steve at his back and looked up into the rafters—could almost picture Vecna hanging there by all his tentacle-like vines in the other dimension.

“Okay asshole, I’m here—no music. You win. I give up.”

Eddie waited—thirty seconds, a minute—to see if anything would happen, but of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

It was always going to be a long shot, making Vecna believe he was actually here surrendering. The enemy knew their plan, had seen it play out in different ways through Eddie’s own memories. If he was going to pull this off, he’d really have to sell it.

He took a deep breath and opened himself wide, letting the pain he’d been collecting like rain water fill his heart to spread throughout his chest, running through his veins like a raging river. All those things he’d tried to push down, and hold back, and sure, they’d spilled over once or twice over the course of days but now he let it flow freely. He thought about it all—the terror of seeing Chrissy succumb not once, not twice, but three times on his watch. He recalled his own deaths too, how he’d known on some level exactly what end he was sentencing himself to when he’d cut the rope, leaving Dustin safely behind as he went to lead the bats away.

He remembered every moment of failure from the first loop to this one in vivid detail.

And Steve.

He thought of Steve, and let Dustin’s voice fill his head again, weakly crying out, He’s gone.

Eddie sniffled, choking back tears as he took a few shaking steps forward, closer to where Vecna should be, and away from his heart, dragging his feet through the thick coating of dust on the old wood floor.

“I thought about what you said, about this being my fate?” His voice, though hollow and ruined, was loud in the unnatural silence of the room.

“You were right—” He shook his head, dropping his voice low, almost a whisper. “Of course you were right. I’m no hero. I can’t save anyone—I can’t even save myself.”

There was a shuffling behind him as Steve moved. Eddie didn't turn to see but he could feel the other boy getting closer and held out a hand to ward him off. The movement stopped immediately.

Eddie hung his head, listening, standing stock-still as seconds gave way to minutes, and still nothing.

Panic began to set in. Their whole plan was hinging on this, it all fell apart if he didn’t get Vecna on the hook.

“Come on goddammit!” He shouted, kicking an old coffee can full of nails clear across the room with a loud clatter. “You offered to end my suffering and I want–I want out… whatever it takes. I just want it to be over!”

One deep breath.

Two.

“What are you waiting for?! You want me to beg? I’m begging! Take me you motherfucker!”

Another sound, a creak and a footstep, the air behind him shifting. Eddie readied to wave Steve off again but the other boy started to speak before he could even lift his arm.

“I knew it. I knew it shouldn’t be you.” Steve snarled. “You can’t even play bait right. Have you always been such a complete and utter failure, Eddie?”

Eddie knew better than to fall for it this time, and he knew Steve better than to think he’d ever say anything to him with that level of vitriol in his voice, no matter what he’d done.

The guy was good, though. Eddie had to give him that. Subtle, just like before he had no way of knowing exactly when it’d happened but he was in Vecna’s thrall now.

It was time.

He backed away from the thing that had again stolen Steve's beautiful face and turned it into something twisted, slamming his eyes shut against the image, doing his best to conjure up the first good memory in his arsenal.

He sat across from Wayne at the little two-seater table in the kitchen in the trailer—a room in a place that was so comfortable and familiar to him now, but on this day, his 12th birthday, still hadn’t quite felt like home yet. Wayne had to work that night, couldn't afford to take the time off, but did his best to make the day a special one for his nephew anyway. He’d woken up much earlier than usual and taken Eddie into town, so he could spend what few quarters he’d managed to scrounge up playing games at the arcade. Now they were back, about to dig into a small but decadent triple chocolate cake, Eddie’s favorite, after splitting a couple cans of SpaghettiOs for dinner—Eddie’s other favorite.

He didn’t expect to receive any gifts.

It was already the best birthday he’d ever had, and his only wish when blowing out his single birthday candle had been that he get to stay with Wayne forever, and maybe return the favor someday—take care of Wayne when he was old and Eddie was grown.

But though he hadn’t been expecting any presents, he’d be lying if he said that the guitar Wayne gave him that night wasn’t the best one he’d ever received. Before leaving for work that night Wayne showed him three chords—G, C, and D, and told him if he could master those he’d be able to play something like half the songs on the radio.

Eddie nodded reverently, and Wayne chuckled, dropping a kiss on the top of his head before leaving for his shift.

He practiced those damn chords until his fingers bled, and loved every minute of it. It was still his happiest birthday to date.

The trailer faded away and suddenly he was in the backstage area of the Hawkins Middle School auditorium, waiting for his turn to go on at the annual talent show.

The other two members of his band stood watching the other acts from the wings with wide eyes, but Eddie? He was transfixed by Chrissy Cunningham as she rehearsed, twirling her pink glittery batton with incredible precision, throwing it up high in the air, and catching it with ease each time.

Until the one time she didn’t, and the stick bounced off of her palm and landed right at his feet. Eddie smiled and quickly bent to pick it up, moving to hand it back but as she reached out began to twirl it between his fingers like it was a drumstick, a skill developed out of boredom and as a way to hone the kind of dexterity he needed in his hands to play the type of music he loved.

She giggled, clapping at his display when he bowed and returned the tool of her trade.

He liked making her laugh, he realized—just plain liked her full stop, actually.

They sat and talked as they waited their turns and Eddie discovered that Chrissy was kind, and as beautiful on the inside as on the outside. He found himself wishing they could be friends, as dumb an idea as that was. She was a cheerleader, a popular kid, top of the food chain, and he was already well on his way to earning the title of Freak. They could never be friends, save for these few stolen moments behind the big black curtain.

Except Eddie knew better now. They would be friends someday, best friends if he had anything to say about it. For a moment he wished he could go back for real, tell that little boy and girl how they’ll save each other—how much they’ll come to mean to each other one day.

The theater lights went out, throwing the backstage area into an abrupt twilight as the scene around him shifted and changed—no longer age-worn linoleum cracking under his sneakers, now his bare feet rested on soft carpet, the walls surrounding him covered in the most hideous plaid wallpaper.

It was dark, the room unlit save for a few slivers of moonlight peaking in between the blinds as he climbed into the bed where Steve already lay. It was a night from exactly one week ago, in the previous loop, the last one they’d spent together before dying.

Steve pulled him close, wrapping him up in his arms, entwining their legs until Eddie didn’t know where he ended and Steve began.

It all felt so real, and so good. Like coming home.

Steve was warm and solid and when Eddie nuzzled into his neck he didn’t pull away, he leaned in, rubbing his cheek against Eddie’s hair and pressing lips to it.

It would have been easy to stay there in that memory as long as possible, but the fear of Vecna showing up and tainting it in some way was enough of a motivator to have Eddie wracking his brain for the next happy thought.

He hadn’t really prepared for more than this, he wasn’t exactly a walking fount of good times, and it felt like he’d already been stuck in this mindscape, or whatever it was, for too long—but he tried.

The only thing on his mind now was SteveSteveSteve, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he blinked and found himself back behind Benny’s getting ready to head into the Upside Down, only to hear those two little words fall from Steve’s lips right behind him again.

“Eddie, wait.”

He smiled to himself, waiting for the familiar touch of Steve’s hand on his elbow but it never came, instead there was a cool rattling breath on the back of his neck.

Eddie whirled, gasping at the sight and scrambled backwards to get away from the vile creature that was now in front of him, much too close for comfort. Vecna, in his true form, a humanoid nightmare covered in taut sinewy flesh and raw meat.

His heart pounded and panic crawled up his throat like bile as he backed into the building, his hands slapping at the wall, searching for the gate that should be there. He just needed to get away, get enough distance between them so he could think, maybe come up with another memory to hide him.

But then the wall was gone, something more like wet tree bark beneath his hands now. His vision swam, the light around him growing and changing, the sky no longer the blues and pinks of dusk—he was surrounded by a blood red haze.

His fingers kept searching anyway until they brushed up against cold dead skin. He recoiled, screaming, and looked back to find the body of Fred Benson wrapped up in vines, and mounted like a trophy on a pole.

This was not his memory, he’d never seen this place before, but needed only one guess to figure out where he was. No longer stuck in his own mind he must be in Vecna’s now, with no idea how to get out.

A rushing sound filled the space between his ears, the rhythmic whooshing of blood as it pumped through his body, so loud inside his own head.

There was a thing out there that could help him, it was… it was right there on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t—

His vision narrowed, the world whiting out around him, tipping on its side and he felt himself falling—falling for much longer than it should have taken to hit the ground.

He landed on his back, blinking hard and tried to sit up, but he was so tired. He’d been running—hiding from something. He was almost sure.

A familiar sound began far off in the distance, he strained to hear it, tried to recognize it, but his own pulse was still so loud and distracting.

A pair of legs in jeans and sneakers—moving, alive—a girl, came into view.

He shrank away from her, unsure.

“Eddie? You shouldn’t be here. It’s time for you to go.”

“I don’t—how—what?”

Oh.

The girl was El, she was his friend. He couldn’t remember before, couldn't seem to think straight.

“El,” he breathed, as she helped him to stand, shaking his head to try and clear some of the fog. “I–I don’t feel so good.”

“He’s dying, Eleven.” Vecna’s deep rasping voice boomed nearby as he approached them. “You can’t even save one of your friends, yet you expect to stop me?”

He raised a long gnarled claw in Eddie’s direction but El stepped in front, mirroring him with her own hand raised, the force of their power like a shimmering heat in the air between them.

Suddenly the strange noise got louder, and it wasn’t just noise, Eddie could make out the vocals now, the beating of the drums, the thrashing of the guitar.

“You hear it, the music?” Eleven shouted to him as she continued to hold Vecna at bay. “That is Steve calling you back to him. Look for him, Eddie. Find the way out. You have to hurry.”

The more he concentrated on it the better he could hear the rhythm and pulse of Master of Puppets being pumped into this place, beckoning to him—Steve and Joyce too, shouting his name—and he felt a little more like himself.

“What about you?” Eddie asked.

“I’ve got this.” She said, never taking her eyes off her target. In the next instant she let out a primal scream, a fierce shriek unlike anything he’d ever heard before, and Vecna went flying up in the air, his arms seemingly pinned to his sides.

Eddie cast his gaze around wildly, looking for anything out of place in this hellscape, and finally spotted a faint light on the horizon that had to be his portal. He ran. It was a long way off but he gave it everything he had, arms pumping, legs burning.

He stumbled, woozy and lightheaded, but caught himself—kept going.

As he got close he could see himself floating there in the attic, Steve clinging to his leg, reaching for his hand, and without a second thought hurled himself head first into the mirage.

Eddie took a deep shuddering breath.

It was dark.

He was cold.

He couldn't feel anything.

“Steve?” He sobbed.

“I’m here, I’m here.”

Arms tightened around him and suddenly Eddie could feel again, everywhere Steve touched him at least, and something hot and wet that was dripping down his face.

It was still dark.

“I can’t–I can’t see anything.”

Steve rocked him gently. “You’re safe. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

He tried to move, to touch back, but there was an awful grinding pain.

Eddie hissed. “My arm—”

“Don’t try to move, okay? I don’t–” Steve's chest shook, Eddie thought he might be crying. “I don’t know how badly you’re hurt yet–”

It all went quiet abruptly.

Eddie drifted in the dark. It was a lot like the place he went between loops.

“Eddie? Eddie?!”

He came back to himself with Steve shaking him, screaming his name. He tried to respond but every effort felt like far too much. Maybe he was dying again. If so, at least this time it would be in Steve’s arms.

There were far worse ways to go.

Eddie woke up.

It was a first for him, at least in recent experience, to wake up from unconsciousness in a hospital like a normal person instead of falling back into his body in the past.

His head ached but it was a distant thing, thanks to good ol’ prescription painkillers no doubt.

He blinked his eyes open slowly, a little stunned that he could see at all, but it was blurry and unfocused. There was a shapeless form wearing Steve’s clothes asleep in a chair by his bed, what looked like Robin in another by the door. He wondered how long he’d been out, if it was the same night. He tried to raise his arm, to reach for Steve even though he was too far away. But the arm was too heavy in its cast.

He fell asleep before he could try again.

When he roused next, it was to low voices arguing quietly nearby.

“You don’t know that.”

“Seems pretty fucking clear to me, Robin. I’m–I'm gonna go. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Steve–”

“Don’t! Just—call me if anything happens?”

“Okay.”

A door closed, heavy and final.

That didn’t sound good.

Eddie burned to know what they were talking about but sleep once again sucked him under mid-thought.

When he woke for good the sun was shining in through the windows, and Wayne, Chrissy, Robin, and Dustin were all sitting around his bed. He could see again.

It was Wayne who first noticed the change, jumping up out of his chair to hover over him.

“Boy you ever scare me like that again I'll kill you myself, you hear me?” The man muttered as he leaned down to give him a hug.

Eddie chuckled hoarsely into his uncle's shoulder, and could have cried with how happy he was to see him and his familiar gray stubble, the smell of Marlboro Reds wafting off his jacket. “I missed you too, old man.”

“You-all keep an eye on him,” Wayne said to the small crowd as he headed for the room’s door. “I’ll go and tell the nurse you’re awake.”

Like he was going to get up and run away.

Eddie carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position with his one good arm, surprised to find he wasn’t feeling worse.

“What happened?” He asked, now that they were alone.

“They got him!” Chrissy beamed.

“Hopper said they burned what they could–” Dustin elaborated, swallowing thickly. “And chopped the rest up into little pieces after El destroyed his mind. It’s over, for real this time.”

Eddie sagged in relief, sinking back into his pillow.

“Oh thank fuck. Do you think that means the rest of it’s over too, the loops I mean? I don’t think I can do it again, man.”

“Well, since we don’t know what caused you to start looping to begin with there’s no way to know for sure, but if the catalyst is you dying, and here you are very much alive even if you did give us quite the fucking scare you asshole!” Dustin swatted him in the shoulder above his cast.

“Hey! Watch the goods!”

“I would say odds are you're safe from having to go back again. As long as you don’t, y’know, die for a while.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Eddie grinned, hoping to draw a smile out of the kid, but he remained solemn and serious.

“Good.” Dustin said, flatly.

Eddie sighed. “Dustin, I–”

“We almost lost you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie wanted to say more, but voices could be heard making their way down the hall towards his room, and he needed to know what he was supposed to say to them.

“Listen, quick, before they come in.” Robin jumped in, grasping the situation just as he had. “The official story is that you were attacked and kidnapped by the same serial killer who murdered Fred and Patrick, the long lost son of Victor Creel. You managed to escape, and Joyce and Steve found you on the side of the road and brought you here. If anyone asks for details just tell them you don’t remember.”

The last word was barely out of her mouth when the door swung open, revealing Wayne along with a doctor and two nurses, who quickly went about examining him.

He got lucky—very lucky. As bad as he’d looked when he was brought in, unconscious and pale and covered in blood, it all boiled down to a few bruises and a broken arm. The doctor’s had worried for his sight, since much of the blood had seemed to come from his eyes, but on closer examination they couldn’t find an actual wound, and he passed a vision test with flying colors.

They wanted to hold him one more night for observation, but that was it. Come the next day he’d be free to go home, with a follow-up appointment scheduled for 6 weeks from now to come back and have his cast removed.

Still, throughout the course of the day everyone paid him a visit, with one notable exception.

Steve never showed.

No one brought him up and Eddie was too afraid of the answer to question it.

He’d asked if they could talk later, pleaded with Steve to let him explain—and supposed his absence now was answer enough. Clearly Steve had decided he wasn’t worth hearing out.

Chapter 12

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated, and if you want to be tagged just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Permanent taglist(open): @hitlikehammers @pearynice @penny00dreadful

Fic taglist(open): @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch @lawrencebshoggoth @stillfullofshit @lil-gremlin-things @mamafaithful @klausinamarink @starlight-archer

#steddie fanfic #time loop #pov eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington/eddie munson #platonic hellcheer #platonic stobin #steve x eddie #steddie fic #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #wayne munson

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zerolostwalks · 4 months ago

Note

Fic writer asks:

4, 11, 16, 24, 44, 70

(there are too many great questions!)

Thank you thank you! They are really good questions!! (found here)

Long post is long so there's a read more cut. (Question 16. (How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?) gets especially long because I decided I want to discuss all my WIPs.)

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

This is a wonderful question, and honestly it depends. Some ideas definitely are me reading or watching something and forming an AU around that. Sometimes it's listening to music and a vibe strikes me that I am like I must write a story that fits this vibe. Other times, I'll be daydreaming and a single scene will pop into my mind and haunt me until I write it down which usually leads to creating the world and circumstances to allow that scene to happen. Sometimes I get an impulsive (in the cases of my darker angstier stuff intrusive thought) and my brain is like wouldn't that be messed up? (Like Crash Pad, Ch 11 solely happened because I built the backstory for the POV character and brain went, you know what't be really screwed up?)

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

Oh geez. But there are so many good fics!! At this moment the immediate top 3 that jumped in my head were:

-It's a supernatural delight by @invisibleraven (JatP fic) -Trip of My Life (Every Time You're Touching Me) by @daintyduck99 (JatP fic) -Prince Charming's Jacket by hitechlatte (Rise TMNT fic)

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

So most of my fic ideas are in some WIP phase. (I'm serious when I saw I need a focus schedule to help me out) We Run Together - This next chapter is all Reggie being all anxiety riddled because Cam and Bobby take him shopping . . .still not sure if we're gonna get to the plane ride this chapter or next. Bobby's first since turning and Reggie's first period. . .it's a miserable affair for the two of them. I have this mental image of them during a layover just sprawled in the waiting away noses shoved in some sort of fast food bag or peppermint bag fighting off the queasiness of being trapped in a metal tube with a bunch of people, including young kids. . Hello Baby June, Goodbye Heart - I keep going back an reading what we have for the next chapter and all our notes. I don't know how much Ash is ok with me gushing about details bu I'll just say the stuff we've got planned it's literally that meme of "give me fic. 'you have to write it.' no write only fic." A lot of of my JatP wips are on rotisserie skewers in my brain right now, rotating, coming into view, reminding me of their presence, enticing me to work on them. And they ALL have moments that I am like, you were the scene! The reason I started this fic in the first place and I still haven't gotten to you yet!! . Crash and Burn - Gotta get through this last chapter of Crash Pad, which is gonna be fun. But then Glowing Embers!! Aaaah, the Donnie POV side of Crash Pad!! Especially Ch 9-11 of Crash Pad like I am at that point of must write this that I have worked myself into a frenzied state where writing is no longer possible . Finally the Donnie Double AU - This AU has so much angst potential. Right now I have two planned fics for it. An unnamed one where Mikey goes after the Donnie Duplicate to try and coax him back to the lair. Only instead he sets him off. And like I said, it gets angsty. The Donnie Duplicate 1000% believes he is OG Donnie, it is hardwired into him, no amount of evidence is going to convince him otherwise. Also hardwired into him is the belief that the only way to get his life back is to kill the entity that stole it from him i.e. OG Donnie. Which leads me to the second planned fic Meant to Be(working title, it may change). This is the reader insert(possibly OC) led fic. Essentially the premise is Donnie Duplicate runs into MC, and initially begins clinging to them out of an 'I just lost my entire support system' desperation that turns into a really unhealthy obsessive possessiveness. When I say it is pulling a lot of vibes, especially the planned ending, from Meant to be Yours from Heathers the Musical I ain't lying. In fact most of the vibe songs I am pulling for this lean into dark and angsty feels. Straight up have been listening to a song called Stalker's Tango on a loop for planning parts of this fic

24. Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

Hmmmmmm, this ones tough, if it was bad advice I most likely purged it from my mind. The thing is sometimes what is great advice for one person and their way of writing may be terrible advice for some one else. Like even the write daily advice, I think this is great advice. But it needs to be tailored to some extent. When I got back into fic writing I worked myself to the point where I am now needing to reevaluate my expectations of me and my writing. Because I can no longer keep up with the way I wrote a few years ago. The same advice I would have thought was great then would kill me now.

44. What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you?

This question would be easier if I had a regular beta XD. Personal mistake of my own that I keep noticing, I don't let the story breath enough.

70. When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

I have no hesitations telling people I write. I might not always discuss what the stories themselves are. But the brilliant thing about fanfiction is I don't have to, I can just talk about the joy of exploring the characters outside of canon, exploring how they would behave in different circumstances. At my sister's wedding a couple years ago, most people didn't even care about the what I was writing, more on the how I found the time. Because this was when I was in peak production mode, where I was slowly burning myself out with the sheer amount of writing I was doing without pacing myself at all.

#thanks for the ask!#writer asks #JatP #rise of the tmnt

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pathfinderunlocked · 3 months ago

Text

Wispmother - CR14 Undead

A powerful undead spirit of ghostly frost, based on the enemy from Elder Scrolls.

Artwork is official concept art from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, by Ray Lederer on ArtStation, copyright Bethesda Softworks.

Among the folk tales from the northern reaches of the world are the Wispmother: ghostly women who lure unsuspecting travelers to their doom. Wispmothers take the form of elven spirits, wreathed in mist and decaying rags.

Wispmothers are not recent. They are the legacy of an ancient cult of necromancers, who thousands of years ago achieved eternal undeath by transforming their spirits into frost. No new wispmothers have been created in millennia, but destroying them is nearly impossible, and so they persist.

A victim is often initially drawn to the Wispmother by glowing, ghostly lights. Although initially passive, these creatures, frostwisps, later attack in tandem with her, distracting the victim and draining their energy. Wispmothers turn their slain victims into frostwisps, which they send out from their lairs to lure travelers to them.

I included descriptions of several of its feats, including two metamagic spell-like ability feats that aren't real feats and were never published by Paizo (although they did publish the equivalent actual metamagic feats for regular spells).

These creatures are based on the enemies of the same name from Skyrim, with their main feature being the frostwisps they control. Like basically all of my Pathfinder adaptations of creatures from other media, this isn't a direct conversion, it's just inspired by the Wispmother from Skyrim and includes some changes to make the fight more interesting.

Wispmother CR 14

The elven spirit seems to be made of animated frozen mist, wreathed in icy winds and decaying rags.

XP 38,400 NE Medium undead (cold, incorporeal) Init +11 Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +25 Aura snowstorm (200 ft.)

DEFENSE

AC 25, touch 25, flat-footed 17 (+7 deflection, +7 Dex, +1 dodge) hp 184 (16d8+112) Fort +12, Ref +12, Will +17 Defensive Abilities incorporeal Immune cold, undead traits Weaknesses vulnerable to fire

OFFENSE

Speed fly 40 ft. (perfect) Melee incorporeal touch +19 (6d6 cold plus chilling touch plus energy drain) Special Attacks chilling touch, energy drain (1 level, DC 25), restore frost wisp

Spell-Like Abilities (CL 16th; concentration +16) Constant—blur 3/day—cone of cold (DC 22), ice storm, intensified studied thundering snowball (ranged touch +19, DC 18 (thundering), 10d6 cold damage) At will—dancing lights, frost glyphs (DC 24, see text), mirror image

STATISTICS

Str —, Dex 24, Con —, Int 21, Wis 24, Cha 25 Base Atk +12; CMB +19; CMD 37 Feats Dodge, Improved Initiative, Intensified Spell-like Ability (snowball), Mobility, Spell Penetration, Studied Spell-like Ability (snowball), Thundering Spell-like Ability (snowball), Intensified Spell-like Ability Skills Fly +26, Intimidate +26, Knowledge (arcana, dungeoneering, local, nature, planes, religion) +17, Perception +25, Sense Motive +15, Spellcraft +26, Stealth +26, Survival +10 Languages Aquan, Elven, Necril SQ bonded frostwisps

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Bonded Frostwisps (Ex) A wispmother has a number of frostwisps bonded to its service, which must stay within 500 ft. of the frostmother. A bonded frostwisp gains the Share Spells, Empathic Link, and Scry on Familiar abilities of a familiar, treating the wispmother as its master. A newly created frostmother typically has 1 bonded frostwisp, but can gain additional bonded frostwisps through its Turn to Frostwisp ability (see below), up to a maximum number of bonded frostwisps equal to half its hit dice.

If a wispmother is destroyed, its bonded frostwisps are instantly destroyed and cease being bonded to it.

Chilling Touch (Su) A wispmother's touch causes 6d6 cold damage. Whenever a creature takes cold damage from a wispmother's chilling touch, it must make a DC 25 Fortitude save to avoid being staggered by the supernatural cold for 1 round. This duration stacks. The save DC is Charisma-based.

After striking a target with its chilling touch attack on its turn, as a free action, a wispmother can attempt to dispels one magical affect effecting the target, as the targeted dispel option of dispel magic (CL 16th). The dispelling effect occurs even if the damage is negated (such as by energy resistance or immunity).

Dispel Synergy If a wispmother successfully dispels an ongoing magical effect on an opponent, that opponent takes a –2 penalty on saving throws against the wispmother's spells until the end of its next turn.

Frost Glyphs (Sp) As a standard action, as a spell-like ability, three times per day, a wispmother can place up to 8 glowing frost glyphs on surfaces she can see within medium range (typically 260 ft.). The frost glyphs must be placed at least 10 ft. apart from each other. Each frost glyph persists for 1 hour or until triggered. A frost glyph is triggered when any creature other than the frostmother or its bonded wisps moves within 10 ft. of it; the frostmother can designate other creatures that can safely approach the frost glyphs at the time of casting.

Upon being triggered, a frost glyph explodes in a 20-ft. burst of frost that deals 1d6 cold damage per 2 caster levels (typically 8d6) and slows target caught in the burst (as the slow spell) for 1 round. A successful Reflex save (typically DC 24) halves the damage and negates the slowing effect.

Glyphs cannot be affected or bypassed by such means as physical or magical probing, though they can be dispelled (doing so dispels all glyphs that were created with a single spellcast). Mislead, polymorph, and nondetection (and similar magical effects) can fool a glyph, though non-magical disguises and the like can’t. Read magic allows a creature to identify a frost glyph with a DC 17 Knowledge (arcana) check. Identifying the glyph does not discharge it and allows the creature to know the effect of the glyph.

Treat this as a 7th-level evocation [cold] spell. Spell resistance applies.

Rejuvenation (Su) In most cases, it’s difficult to destroy a wispmother through simple combat: the “destroyed” spirit restores itself in 1 year. Even the most powerful spells are usually only temporary solutions. If, after 1 year, the area where the wispmother is not below freezing, its rejuvenation is delayed until the area drops below freezing.

When a wispmother rejuvenates, it begins with only one bonded frostwisp; any others it had bonded to it before being destroyed are lost.

Restore Frostwisp (Su) As a one-round action, once every 1d3+2 rounds, a wispmother can restore all of its bonded frostwisps to full hit points and remove any harmful conditions from them, including frostwisps that have been destroyed.

Snowstorm (Su) A wispmother can cause itself to be surrounded by whirling blasts of snow, even in areas that wouldn’t allow for such weather, that comprise a 200-foot-radius spread. It can activate or deactivate this ability as a free action at the start of its turn. Within this area, the snowfall and wind gusts cause a -4 penalty on Perception checks and ranged attacks. The wind itself blows in a clockwise rotation around the wispmother, and functions as severe wind. A wispmother and its bonded wisps are unaffected by snowstorms or blizzards of any kind. Any effect that causes these winds to drop below severe (such as control weather or control winds) cancels the snowstorm effect entirely.

Studied Spell-like Ability Three times per day, when casting its snowball spell-like ability, a wispmother can enhance the spell as if with the Studied Spell metamagic. The wispmother attempts an appropriate Knowledge check based on that target’s creature type as it casts the spell. The DC for this check is equal to 20 + the creature’s CR based on its race and not including any class levels or template (a creature that is defined by class levels has an effective CR of 0 for this ability). If the wispmother succeeds, the snowball spell-like ability ignores any cold resistance the target has because of its race as well as any bonuses on saving throws against the spell granted by the target’s race (such as the bonus from a dwarf’s hardy ability or a halfling’s halfling luck ability). The snowball spell-like ability doesn’t ignore energy resistance or saving throw bonuses granted by other spells and effects. If the wispmother fails the Knowledge check, the snowball spell-like ability still has its normal effects.

Thundering Spell-like Ability Three times per day, when casting its snowball spell-like ability, a wispmother can enhance the spell as if with the Thundering Spell metamagic. If a creature takes damage from the snowball spell-like ability, it becomes deafened for 1 round; a successful Fortitude save (typically DC 18) negates the deafening effect.

Turn to Frostwisp (Ex) If a wispmother or one of her bonded frostwisps kills a living creature with at least 3 Intelligence, the creature turns into a frostwisp bonded to the wispmother after 24 hours. If the wispmother is destroyed during that time (even if it rejuvenates), or the dead creature is revived, the transformation into a frostwisp fails.

A wispmother can have a maximum number of bonded frostwisps equal to half its hit dice. If it creates another new bonded frostwisp at that point, it must choose one to release, which becomes a free-roaming uncontrolled undead (although it is not hostile to the frostmother).

#d&d #pathfinder 1e #undead #cold #incorporeal #elder scrolls

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thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos · 6 months ago

Text

Every Rose Has It's Thorn

Part 12

Part 11

Universe: Teenage Mutant Teenage Turtles (Bayverse aged-up turtles)

Rating: R MINORS DNI: (swearing) suggestive moments, kissing and heated moments in this chapter

Raphael x OC (female character), Leonardo x OC (female character)

Tags: fluff, original character, slow burn romance, Leo and Raph fighting, jealousy, angst

I also posted this story on AO3 if you'd rather read over there

============================

Rose and Leo begin training in the dojo, and Raph decides to keep fighting. (Soooo fluffy :3 )

==============================

Leo let his phone flop onto his plastron and breathed out a heavy sigh. He couldn’t believe how much had happened in the past few hours.

He and Rose had spent so much time together, laughing and getting to know each other practically all day, and they had almost kissed. A shiver ripped down his spine as he thought of the moment they had shared on the couch, her lips so close to his. He grazed a finger over his own pout and smiled, remembering how soft and delicate it had been. Leo had been so close to letting himself close the gap between them, but when she spoke his name it brought him back to earth enough to remember his plan.

He wasn’t going to kiss her until she asked him to.

He had meant it. He wasn’t going to do anything until she asked him, and as he laid there and let his mind wander, he wondered what it would sound like, her pleading him to kiss her like that. What would she taste like, he thought. Would she breathe his name like that again, under him? He palmed himself over his shorts, suddenly aware of a desperate need for friction.

And immediately remembered he was on the couch. In the living room.

He readjusted himself, and lifted his phone back up to his face. The picture of Rose kissing him was still lit up on the screen, and the grin once more bloomed on his lips. He couldn’t stop looking at it.

He knew that she wanted him; it was obvious. He had felt her shiver in his arms as he leaned in to kiss her; had felt her body reach up to him. And that smell.

He noticed it as he had brushed her cheek with his thumb on the couch, this sweet, spicy scent from her center that made a very primal feeling rear its head. It drew him to kiss her, to take her deeper into his arms, to make her his.

But he wouldn’t act on anything until she wanted it.

Wanted him.

Letting out a huff, he stuffed his phone in his pocket and got up from the couch. A cold shower would do him good.

As Leo turned his shoulder, he saw his brother’s door open, and Raph stepped out of his room, yawning.

The brothers locked eyes, both freezing in place. He expected another fight, but was surprised when he saw guilt in place of anger in his gaze.

“Ah, hey..Leo.”

Leonardo blinked slowly; quickly looking around the room and then back at his brother.

“Raph.”

A pregnant pause took up residence between them; Leo desperately wanted to leave but Raph’s awkwardness intriguing enough to pique his curiosity and keep him there.

“So, I wanna say somethin’,” Raph began, looking at the floor and nervously fiddling with his wrist wraps. “About earlier.”

Leo continued his cautious gaze over his younger brother, but sat down on the arm of the couch.

“Okay. What about it.”

“I’m sorry about, ya know. The fight. I shouldnta tried to smoke ya like that.”

Leo chuckled lowly. “Yeah, me too man. We definitely took it too far.”

His brother smirked knowingly at him, but the smile quickly faded. Raph looked away again, at some distant imaginary movie playing on the other side of the lair.

“Did you mean it, Leo-”

Leo’s face fell, and a hardened look settled into his eyes. “And what if I did?”

Raph’s fists clenched at his sides; his jaw set in a hard line across his face.

“She feels somethin’ for me, Honor-Boy.”

“Maybe,” Leo admitted, “at one point.” He turned to leave, but paused to give Raph a final thought. “Let me make one thing clear: whatever she decides will be her choice, Raph. And we both have to accept it.”

He could feel the daggers his brother was boring into his skull as he walked away, headed for the shower, and heard a grunted response behind him.

“Fine with me.”

=======================

Rose woke up a few hours later, blinking in confusion until she remembered where she was.

Stretching out, she smiled and sighed to herself, feeling much more rested. She was grateful that Leo had chosen to leave last night after all; she had slept surprisingly well in light of what happened. It had done her well to spend some time alone.

Though it had been a little hard to fall asleep after he had texted her.

She squealed to herself, clutching her phone to her chest and kicking her legs in the sheets. Leo was such a flirt, in person and over text, and she found that she grew easily flustered when he laid it on thick. How could you not, when this suave, sexy ninja turtle was looking at you like he wanted to have you for lunch?

Rose looked down at her phone and saw a text notification from him.

Blue: Morning. Let me know when you’re up, gorgeous

Hnnggghhh! She flipped the phone out of her hands in excitement and screamed into the pillow.

Emerald: good morning lol

someone’s had some free time this morning

Blue: sorry, was that weird?

Emerald: no!

I’m sorry.

I just um, don’t know how to respond to compliments

but thanks, it was really sweet of you

Blue: anytime, gorgeous

You can tell me if I do something that upsets you though, and you don’t need to apologize for it. I want to know.

Emerald: Mkay, Blue.

So, what’s up?

Blue: Oh, I was just going to tell you that training starts in 30 minutes. You may want to get going. :)

Rose leapt up from the bed, grabbing her toiletries bag and a set of athletic wear, and headed to the bathroom. She passed by the living room on her way, waving hello to Donnie as she passed. He smirked knowingly at her from the couch, glancing up from his phone, ever present cup of coffee in his other hand.

“What.”

“Nothing. Morning.”

“Ooh-kay. Anyways, I’m going to hop in the shower really quick if that’s all right.”

Donnie wrinkled his snout, and raised his mug in her direction.

“Gotcha. Have fun.”

Rose rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue at him as she strutted away, shutting the bathroom door behind her.

Donnie smiled back at his phone, finishing his text to April that Rose was training with Leo, and she could definitely come down to meet her before they left for patrol tonight. His dove was going to be so excited.

She hurried through her shower, changing quickly and practically running out of the bathroom in case anyone else needed it. Old habits of childhood die hard.

Back in Leo’s room, she finished drying her hair and doing her makeup in a small compact mirror. It had been days since she had really tried with her appearance, and if Leo thought she was gorgeous now.. ooh just you wait, buddy.

She had chosen a light blue set of leggings and sports bra, which perfectly complimented her copper hair and tan skin, and threw on an oversized white crop top over her bra, not quite sure of what they were doing and how exposed she really wanted to be. Her tattoo sleeve on her right arm stuck out vividly against the light color of her outfit, the Koi fish that swirled around her shoulder stark in contrast to the soft glow of the lair lighting.

She wondered if Leo would like it if he saw it.

Doing one last look over and fluffing her curls, she slid on her sneakers and headed to the dojo with a minute to spare.

Leo had been waiting patiently meditating, or at least trying to. He couldn’t focus, every few seconds opening his eyes in anticipation that Rose was walking in the door.

When the paper finally slid open, he was not prepared for the stunning beauty in front of him.

In his color.

Leo half-smiled, brows raised, soaking in the moment.

She looked good in blue.

Her curly hair cascaded down her shoulders as she slipped off her shoes, and she tucked some stray strands behind her ear as she stood back up and strolled over to him on the tatami. Rose was somehow even more beautiful today, and his heart swelled as he openly stared at her.

And damn, did she look hot in that outfit.

The leggings she wore clung to her hips in all the right places, accentuating the curves of her legs perfectly. He could see a hint of abs peeking out from under shirt, too. Leo exhaled sharply, trying to maintain his composure. He didn’t want her to see the lust in his eyes. Not yet.

Rose smirked back as she sat down in front of him, crossing her legs to mirror his meditative pose.

“Morning, Blue.”

Leo bit back a grin as he drank her in.

“Morning, Emerald. Sleep well?”

She cocked her head to the side at his pet name, an amused look on her face. “I did, thanks.” With a sudden movement, she slapped her leg. “Well, you got me here. Now what?”

He chuckled. “Are you ready to start your training?”

“What training, exactly, are we talking about again?”

Leo looked at her blankly and stood, motioning for her to do the same. He walked to a stack of wooden boards in the corner and returned with one in hand, a few paces away.

“Grab this.”

He tossed the board to her, and she reached out and did as he instructed, confused, until her supposed “light” grip shattered the board into splinters. Leo brushed the wood chunks off his pants.

“That training,” he said dryly. “Let’s work on your grip strength today. Now, let’s try it again, but this time 80% lighter.” He nodded in the direction of the stack, and Rose grabbed a few more boards and brought them over to him, gingerly touching the wood.

He picked up another piece and gently threw it to her, and this time her grip cracked the board in half, but didn’t shatter it. Her brows furrowed as she chewed her lip, irritated.

“Hey, it’s all right. You’ll get there,” Leo said. “Think of it like turning a dial, not flipping a switch. ”

Rose looked up at the terrapin, his comforting smile directed at her and its warmth glowing like sunlight. He lifted up another piece from the pile, flipping it in his hands as he spoke.

“Again. It’s all about control. Power without control is just chaos.”

Rose took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing in focus. She nodded, and reached for the slab as it flew in the air, and this time she gently pressed her fingers against the wood. The piece cracked, but remained mostly intact.

“Better,” he encouraged, nodding. “You’re getting there. Just feel the pressure, don’t force it.”

Rose smiled, the tension easing slightly from her shoulders. “Okay, I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

He nodded and moved closer, abandoning the wood pile.

“Okay, let’s see how you handle something softer.”

Leo stood in front of her and smiled softly, and offered her his hand. She studied his face for a moment, fear etching across hers.

“It’s okay, Rose. Just take my hand.”

Her fingers slid across his palm slowly, the sensation of his skin against hers sending shivers up her spine. She fought to hide how her heart started beating a little faster as her hand slotted on top of his. His beautiful blue eyes seemed to gleam in the light of the dojo as he looked down at her, watching her intently. Her gaze flicked back up to his as his fingers lightly squeezed hers.

“All right. Gently squeeze my hand back.”

“Leo, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine. I trust you.”

He lifted their intertwined hands to his lips and lightly brushed a kiss to the back of her hand. Rose blinked slowly as she watched his soft pout graze her skin. He kept his gaze on her, drinking in her flushed cheeks as the blush spread across her face. Leo smirked against her knuckles, and gave her another encouraging squeeze as he lowered their hands.

“C’mon gorgeous, I’m waiting.”

Rose flicked her green emeralds up to his eyes, smiling softly. She breathed out slowly, and tried to delicately grip his hand in her small one. Leo studied her face for a moment, and patted her on the head when she stopped squeezing his palm.

“Good job. Knew you could do it.”

“You’re an interesting guy, you know that?”

Leo rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand, enjoying the way the pad of his finger scrubbed over her skin. “ I’ve heard that before, once or twice.” He shrugged his shoulders and let her hand go, but not missing the look of disappointment that danced across Rose’s features as he did. He walked over to a barrel of metal pipes that was sitting next to the wood pile and tossed her a thick metal bar. “Now, let’s see you try something sturdier.”

She caught it effortlessly, rolling it between her hands, and looked back at the terrapin bewildered.

“Leo, how am I supposed to know what to do with this?”

His hands slid to his hips and he cocked his head at her expectantly.

“Just give it a shot. Think: pretzel.”

With a look of concentration, she bent the bar slowly, shaping it with precision. The metal creaked and groaned in her grip, but felt like playdough as she twisted and shaped it. She giggled as the bar danced in her hands as easy as water in a stream. Once she was satisfied with the shape, she looked back up and presented it to Leo with a smile. His eyes softened as he took the offered piece, now in the shape of a cursive L.

“Thanks.” His heart felt like it would burst. Leo’s mouth grew dry as his gaze dragged over hers, wanting like she was the oasis in a desert. Wanting what he’d never been able to have, what was always forever out of his reach. What he’d never allowed himself to imagine.

It had never felt like this before. He’d never felt this before.

She looked up, her eyes sparkling. “You’re welcome, Leo. Figured my sensei should have a Rose original.” Giggling to herself as her joy bubbled out from her soul, she playfully punched his arm with her fist. He half-smiled back, and rubbed his bicep a bit with a wince.

“Careful muscles,” He chuckled lowly, and she placed a hand against his skin as her face fell. He internally chided himself for saying anything.

“Oh my god, did I hurt you?” Her voice grew frantic as she searched his eyes. Leo set her gift down and took her hands in his.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” His tone was low and calm as he rubbed his thumbs over her hands. “You just need to keep what we worked on earlier in mind. That’s what today’s for. Just remember,” Leo said, looking at her intently, “strength is about more than muscles. It’s about knowing when to hold back and when to let go.”

Rose chewed on her lip, eyes growing damp and blurry with tears. “I’m so sorry. I-”

“Hey.” Leo took her chin in his thumb and finger and lifted her face up to look at him. “Remember what I said yesterday? I’m tough, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

“I just-I can’t hurt you, any of you- I’m so scared of hurting anyone else.”

“I know. And that’s why we’re doing this, right?” She nodded reluctantly in his hand. “I’m here to help you, Rose. It’s okay.” Leo rubbed his thumb against her soft skin and paused a moment before sighing softly and dropping his hands. “Let’s move on.”

He sauntered towards the center of the dojo, and turned back to face her head on. She watched him move with a quiet curiosity as he sank a little in his stance, feet spread apart, and lifted his hands in a familiar position. Smirking, he raised an eye ridge and nodded to her.

“Let’s see what defensive moves you remember.”

==========================================

After his conversation with Leo, Raph had headed off to the weight room to work off his utter frustration at his brother.

Set after set had gone by, his muscles screaming for rest, but the anger wouldn’t subside. He couldn’t stop, his thoughts racing and swirling like whirlpools every second that he wasn’t pushing his body to the absolute limit.

Hours passed before he finally re-racked the weights and let himself rest.

Raph took a long swig from his jug, and splashed some water over his head to cool off. The liquid trickled down his thick, muscled shoulders, trailing down the lines of his plastron. It felt good against his skin, overheated and flushed after the long workout. The bara huffed loudly, shaking the excess water off his head. His mask tails flicked water everywhere as he shook, spraying Mikey as he walked in.

“Yo! Watch the duds, man!”

“Heh, sorry Mike.”

“That better be water bro.” Mikey said flatly, hands on his hips. Raph just chuckled and shook his head again.

“Yeah, mostly.”

Mikey rolled his eyes at his older brother, and walked over to the makeshift squat rack. “Gross, dude.”

“Whaddya need, Mike.”

“Can you spot me, bro?”

Raph nodded and got up from the bench to stand behind his brother. He had always liked working out with Mikey, as his younger brother respected his opinions and didn’t argue with him.

Unlike Leo.

He shook his head again, trying to refocus. Mikey did his first warm-up set with no issue, and Raph helped him to load more weight onto the bar.

“So Raph, you doin okay man? You’ve been in here for like 4 hours dude.”

He grunted in response to Mikey’s question; he didn’t want to get into it.

“C’mon man, I know you.”

The youngest huffed as he finished his second set, re-racking the bar with a thud against the rack. Raph had taught him well, high weight - low reps to build muscle. Mike was getting pretty big. Pretty soon he would be stronger than Leo. The red-banded turtle scoffed under his breath.

“It’s complicated, Mike.”

“Try me, man.”

Raph sat back down on the bench and put his head in his hands. “I just don’t get Leo, man.”

Mikey nodded, and leaned against the metal rack.

“I hear you, dude. It’s kinda weird the way he’s acting. Did you talk to him?”

“Yeah. Didn’t help.” He mumbled into his lap.

“Well, from here it looks like you got one option then, dude.”

Raph looked up at the youngest, raising a brow ridge in his direction.

“If you like her, you gotta fight for her man. Plain and simple.” The bara snorted at his brother's comment, and Mikey shrugged and turned back to get under the bar again. "I’m just sayin’, dude. But you might wanna move fast, cause Leo’s not wasting any time. That’s for sure.”

“Whaddya mean, Mike.”

“He’s training with her in the dojo today, and he told Donnie and me to steer clear.”

Raph growled under his breath as Mikey worked through his last set.

Leo wanted a fight?

Fine. He got one.

==================================

Rose and Leo had been training for about two hours, both drenched in sweat and panting as he drilled kata after kata with her.

She had only remembered a few from her Dad, so they had started at the beginning and worked through the basic defensive moves. She had sweat through her crop top completely, and after a mental debate, she had asked to break for water and took it off.

Leo choked on his water as he looked over and noticed her stripping her outer layer off. He couldn’t help his blatant stare as she shed the shirt and dabbed the sweat off her chest and neck. Her skin glistened in the light, and he looked hungrily over her figure as he took her in.

Before she could notice his staring, he pointed out her ink, his eyes tracing the intricate designs on her skin. The Koi fish on her shoulder draped beautifully into the waves surrounding it, and the lotus flowers further down her bicep were a beautiful stark contrast in color. It was a great half-sleeve.

“Nice tats.”

Rose raised an eyebrow at him, flicking her eyes up to meet his. An amused look glossed over her face.

“Thanks, Blue. I like yours too.”

His own ink stood out beautifully against the green, scaly skin of his arms, a large tribal turtle on one shoulder and a few lines and smaller turtles outlined on his other bicep. He flexed as she stared, the thick muscles making her feel weak as her eyes raked over him. Leo looked even more edible than usual as the beads of sweat dripped down his neck, trickling down his chest plates.

She licked her lips, wondering what his skin felt like against her tongue. What he tasted like.

He smirked at her and shook his head, taking another long swig of water.

“Got something on your mind, sweetheart?”

Rose turned her head, blush creeping over her face. She mumbled under breath.

“Maybe.”

Leo chuckled to himself and sauntered over to her, gliding confidently as he moved across the tatami. His grey joggers hung low on his frame and shifted slightly as he moved, exposing the skin around his hips ever so slightly and teasing her with the hint of another tattoo on one side. He gave her a cocky look as he stopped in front of her, crossing his arms and letting Rose take his full height in. It was like Leo had been sculpted by angels, perfectly chiseled in all the right places, and so incredibly handsome.

“And what would that be?”

His brilliant blue eyes sparkled as he looked deeply into hers, the flush spreading across her cheeks betraying her thoughts.

“I was-” She started, heartbeat picking up and chewing on her lip. “I was just admiring. That’s all.”

Leo gave her a knowing smile. “Oh, really now.”

Rose batted her lashes, eyes glinting with mischief. “I guess I’m just having a hard time with so many...distractions. But I’ll try to stay focused, sensei.”

He chuckled lowly and raised an eye ridge at her. “How do you manage to switch from cute to sexy in under a second?”

She flashed a feline smile at him and lifted a hand up to flick her curls playfully. “It’s a skill.”

He snorted at her comment and shook his head, smiling to himself.

She was going to be the death of him.

He gave an exaggerated eye roll for her benefit and jutted his chin towards the door.

“Well, I’m about ready to be done. Do you want to take a break to grab some breakfast?”

Nodding, she tossed her shirt back over her shoulder. “I could eat, yeah.”

They walked out of the dojo together, the bright, colorful lighting of the neon signs casting long shadows on the walls as they walked through the lair. The air was cool and slightly damp, carrying the faint scent of the underground as they chatted on their way to the kitchen. It continually amazed her that it didn’t smell foul down here; she assumed that Donnie had engineered some sort of air filtration system. As they made their way to the main area, the sound of their footsteps echoed softly on the cement.

“How about we see what Mikey’s cooked up? I’m craving something sweet.” he asked, looking down at her with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Sounds perfect,” she agreed, falling into step beside him, slipping her arm in his.

Only, Mikey wasn’t in the kitchen.

Raph was.

The bara was in front of the stove, pulling something incredible smelling out of the oven when they rounded the corner.

He looked up, owl-eyed at the intrusion, as Rose and Leo walked in shoulder-to shoulder, her arm draped in his. Raph made eye contact with his brother, who glared back before moving his hand protectively down Rose’s back. She looked up at Leo and smiled softly, making the red-banded turtle’s jaw clench.

Raph slammed the oven door shut with his hip, making Rose jump a little as she turned her attention to him. They made eye contact for a brief moment, both studying each other, before Leo cleared his throat. Raph glanced back to Fearless, his jaw set hard.

“Morning, Raphael.”

He nodded to his brother and flicked his gaze back to hers; she looked nervous. Like she wanted to run.

Rose couldn’t tear her eyes away from Raph.

She thought that her time with Leo had helped her forget her intense feelings for him, but seeing him again now just re-opened the wound and rubbed salt in it. His words bounced around her head like marbles down a stairwell, and she could feel her skin crawl as her brain screamed at her to run away.

You mean nothing.

“Hey, Rose.”

Her brows furrowed, legs tensing as she looked for the nearest exit. When she didn’t answer, Raph moved around the island and stepped towards her.

“Can, ah.. Can we-”

A quiet sound fluttered from her throat as Rose backed up, caution etched across her beautiful features.

“Raph.” Leo's voice was thick with warning.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide with a mixture of hurt and frustration. “I just wanna talk. I need ta explain-”

“Right now,” Leo interrupted, stepping protectively in front of Rose. “She needs space. Give her that.”

Rose's breath came in soft huffs as she steadied herself in Leo’s shadow. She didn’t trust herself to speak, afraid that any words would come out strangled.

“Raph, just... I..,” she finally managed, her voice quiet, but firm.

His face twisted as his patience boiled over. “Fine. Whatever.” He turned abruptly, his footsteps heavy and angry as he stormed out of the room, the sound of his departure echoing in the tense silence.

Leo rubbed her back gently, pulling her attention back as she watched Raphael's large form stomp down the hallway. “You good?”

She nodded, blinking away the tears welling in her eyes. “Yeah, Leo. Thank you. I just…I can’t face him yet.”

He lifted his arm from her back and wrapped it snugly around her shoulders. “I get it. But speaking as his older brother, feel free to let him suffer a bit longer.” With that, he gripped her tighter and laughed, and she giggled back.

“How about we see what he made? It smells pretty good.”

She playfully smacked his arm. “You’re such a jerk, Leo! We can’t steal his breakfast.”

He shrugged at her and pulled them both over to the counter where his brother’s cinnamon rolls were cooling on the counter.

“Well, knowing Raph, he’s probably too grumpy to eat them now. And,” he continued, giving Rose a mischievous smile. “They smell way too good to let them go to waste.”

She sighed. “You’re obnoxious, you know that?”

He let her go from his embrace to walk around the other side of the island counter, smirk still painted on his lips. “You love it.”

He opened the fridge, hunting for something, and Rose rolled her eyes at Leo and mumbled under her breath as she sat down on the bar stool.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Leo pulled out a can of cream cheese frosting from the fridge and grabbed a knife from the drawer, starting the arduous task of icing the rolls. He blushed a little as he smiled and scraped frosting onto the bread, and after a moment, raised the goo-covered knife at her with a cocky grin plastered on his face.

“What was that?”

Rose felt the heat crawl across her skin. “Oh, nothing,” she hummed back.

He wiped the excess frosting from the knife onto his finger, slowly moving around the island to where she sat perched on the stool.

“Leo, what are you doing-”

“You’re sure it was nothing?”

She put her hands up as she slid off the stool and backed away from the hulking turtle in front of her. “Leo, don’t you dare-” she laughed, eyes darting and looking for an escape route.

“I’m not doing anything.”

He smirked at her, looking at the frosting on his fingers for a moment before making a sudden move forward without warning, swiping a smear across her cheek.

Rose gasped, hand flying to her face. “Leo!” she laughed, wiping the frosting off with a finger. “You did not just do that.”

He chuckled, eyes dancing with mischief as he shrugged his shoulders.

Rose stuck her fingers in the near empty can on the counter and fished out a big smear of frosting, her own smile widening. “Oh, you’re going to regret that, Blue.”

He started to back away, but before Leo could get out of her reach, she smeared a dollop across his snout. He froze for a moment, blinking, then burst out laughing. “Oh, it’s on!”

She squealed and ran from him as he fished out more sticky frosting, vaulting herself over the couch in an attempt to flee from another attack.

He quickly caught up to her and planted another gob of sugary topping on her chin, as his other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place against his plastron.

Rose was giggling as she wiggled in his arm, completely helpless as he lifted a hand up to her face and smeared the frosting in more against her cheek. She squawked and batted at his large fingers, pulling a deep laugh from the terrapin holding her hostage.

“Tru-uce, Le-Leo! Truce!”

He let her go with a chuckle, and she turned around with her hands on her hips, trying to look stern but failing miserably as she broke into a grin. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Leo grinned back, grabbing a towel from the coffee table nearby and wiping his hands. "It's part of my charm." He offered it to her, and she gratefully accepted and wiped the sticky sugar off her fingers.

Rose rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't fade. "Well, Mr. Charming, I think we better clean up before someone else sees and asks questions."

Leo cocked his head to the side with a lop-sided grin. "Agreed. But I have to admit, that was the most fun I've had in a while." The soft smile lingered on his lips as he stood in front of her, snout still covered in frosting.

She reached up and wiped a bit from his face, her touch lingering for a moment. "Yeah, me too."

The blue of his eyes glimmered with a sweet tenderness as he looked down at her. He lifted a hand to the nape of her neck, and rubbed his thumb gently against her skin as he churred softly.

She sighed at the touch, and her eyes closed as she leaned into his hand.

“How are you still beautiful covered in frosting?”

He felt her tense in his palm as her orbs popped open, embarrassment shining in the green of her eyes.

“I don’t know about that, Leo.” Rose bit her lip and broke away from his gaze.

He tapped his thumb on her neck and hummed disapprovingly as his other arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her in against his plastron. He could feel her pulse quicken as her chest pressed into the keratin there.

She flicked her eyes back up to meet his.

“If I have to tell you every day, I will. You’re beautiful.”

A blush flushed across her cheeks as she sighed and gave him a sheepish smile. “Even if-”

He leaned down a little, and tilted her head slightly towards his as the smile began to slowly fade from his lips and a darker expression took its place. “Yep.”

Rose giggled nervously. “You didn’t know what I was going to say.” She could feel the internal pull towards him as he leaned in, her own body mirroring his.

“Doesn’t matter,” his face was close enough to hers now that his voice was a low whisper that tingled against her skin as he spoke. “You’ll always be beautiful to me.”

A breathy sigh left her lips as his snout brushed against her nose. Leo gently pulled her in closer, bringing her body flush to his and sending shivers up her spine. His touch at her neck remained soft, thumb brushing at the delicate skin and teasing tender lines and sensations as she began to feel the deep gnaw of hunger between her thighs.

Leo tilted his head further down and let his lips lightly brush against hers, bringing a low rumble from his chest that filled the air between them. She lifted a hand to cup his jaw, and bit back a whine as he turned slightly to brush his soft, but firm pout against her cheek in a light kiss.

She felt so…warm. The heat spread through her veins like fire.

“You taste pretty good.” He murmured huskily, licking his lips as he pulled back. She watched his tongue sweep across his bottom lip with want etched over her face.

Her hand at his jaw stopped his retreat, the hungry look she wore as she pulled him back to her lips made his breath hitch in his throat. Rose cocked a smirk at him, blush spread across her cheeks and pulse thrumming against his palm as she gazed up at him.

“God Leo, will you just kiss me already?”

He smiled, and raised his hand from the nape of her neck to her jaw as he ducked his head down to close the gap between them.

Leo pressed a soft kiss to her lips, heat sparking and blooming at the tenderness as his firm pout brushed against hers. The gentle heat behind it surprised her, and a soft moan sang from her throat when her lips parted slightly and he deepened the kiss. She was adrift as his tongue danced with hers in slow, languid sweeps, practically vibrating with want as lips caressed in melting passes of growing need.

His arm around her waist pulled tighter, wrapping her deeper in his embrace as his mouth claimed hers. She felt dizzy as her body pleaded for him, hips pressed tight together and needing more.

The feeling of his lips against hers was becoming as precious a thing to her as oxygen.

A low moan rumbled from Leo’s chest, almost mournful, and he gave her one last tender kiss on her lush pout before slowly pulling back to press a chaste peck against her forehead with closed eyes.

Her breath was a shaky pant, heart fluttering in her chest as she steadied herself in his embrace, her eyes hazy as he moved to look at her again, muddy with lust. Leo’s face was a softer mirror of hers; joy beating in his heart and shining in his eyes like pools of seawater.

“That was..incredible.” She bit her lip with a soft smile, savoring the memory as it lingered. She lifted her other hand to his plastron, pressing her fingers against the thick plates.

He shook his head slowly, a grin blooming sweetly on his lips and blush peeking out under his mask. Leo let go of her waist and placed his three-fingered hand over hers on his chest.

“Yeah, it was.”

“Ahem.”

Leo’s smile collapsed as his eyes shot up behind Rose to find April leaning against the living room wall.

Smiling.

His hands dropped immediately, stepping back from her as their closest family friend strolled into the living room. Rose gazed longingly at up him, taking in his sudden shift in demeanor.

His energy was always so different when they were alone; he was so much more relaxed and playful. But when his family was around it was like he was a completely different man; serious, stern.

Un-moving, like stone.

Rose turned slowly to see what had hardened Leo’s eyes to steel, and jumped when a woman she didn’t know hugged her and lifted her up to twirl in an awkward squeezed embrace.

She squawked in protest.

April giggled, setting the shorter female back down on her feet, and looked over her head to Leo, who was all but glaring back at her.

“Hi, Fearless.”

He rolled his eyes at the nickname. “April.”

The taller woman flicked her gaze back to Rose and smiled broadly.

“So, I hear you’re the new kid around here. I’m April O’Neil.”

She stuck her hand out for a handshake, and Rose looked at it like it might bite for a moment before gently sliding her hand in and trying to follow Leo’s lesson from earlier.

“Rose Soriano. Nice to meet you.”

When April released her hand without complaint, Rose felt Leo’s hand on her lower back as he leaned in behind her and whispered a soft “good job”. A shiver ripped up her spine as his breath caressed the shell of her ear.

“Anyway,” April held out the vowels a bit long, getting both Rose and Leo’s attention once more. With a smirk, she continued. “I was headed in to see Donnie, but since I caught you, how about we go grab some coffee? I’m sure you’ve been trapped down here for a while.”

Rose blinked at her with surprise, and broke into a smile as she nodded enthusiastically.

When Leo made a move to protest, April shot him a look.

“Can you wait just a second so I can clean up?” Rose said with a laugh, gesturing to her face and sweaty athletic gear.

April nodded, and as Rose jogged to Leo’s room to change, she cleared her throat again and slinked her hands to her hips.

“Well?”

Leo snorted. “Well what, April-”

She flicked him on the snout.

“Don’t. Even.” She sat down on the couch and patted to the cushion next to her. “Sit. Spill.”

He gave her an irritated huff as he plopped down on the sofa. She turned to face him, criss-crossed her legs, and after a few long moments of silence she softly started humming the jeopardy theme song.

He glared at her from the side of his vision and slumped forward onto his knees. “What.”

“Leo. We both know what I just saw. Talk to me, bud. What’s going on?” She lifted a hand to his shoulder, patting him in friendly reassurance.

“You saw that, did you?” He sat up and leaned back into the seat of the couch, sighing loudly as he stared up at the ceiling.

“Maybe you shouldn’t kiss your houseguests in the living room where anyone can see, just a thought.”

He chuckled.

“What’s with the frosting, by the way?” April took her hand back and smirked at him.

“Ah. Long story.”

She nodded, appeased with that answer for a moment. When she didn’t press further, Leo turned in his seat to see that she was studying his face. With a sigh, he fessed up. It was impossible to deny April when she wanted something.

“I, uh- she…” Leo paused, unsure of what he wanted to reveal. “Things are getting, um…intense.”

“I can see that.”

“She’s amazing, though. I really..ah-” He rubbed a hand over his face.

“You like her.”

Leo tensed on the couch, limbs stiff.

“I can see it all over your face, Leo.” April sighed dreamily. “It’s so cute. I’m happy for you guys.”

He stood up from the couch.

“I can see it all over your face, Leo.” April sighed dreamily. “It’s so cute. I’m happy for you guys.”

He stood up from the couch.

He had to get out of here.

“Oh, don’t be like that!” She pouted at him as he walked away.

It hadn’t felt like this since-

Her.

Yes, there had been other women before Rose- It had come as a surprise, humans welcoming them after the Krang attack. They had slowly let themselves be seen more and more after Chief Vincent insisted the turtles give humanity a chance; to try and trust that people would accept them instead of assuming the worst.

Mikey had been desperate for the freedom, but Leo had kept his brothers in check; they couldn’t forget what had happened with Eric Sacks- the danger that humans presented to them. But slowly, gently, his heart warmed up to the idea that maybe, just maybe- humans could be trusted.

Her name was Jade- and that soft smile, those determined, gorgeous brown eyes had changed his mind the instant their hands touched that day in the alley behind the police station; the instant that she didn’t recoil from the feel of his skin on hers.

His world shifted in that moment.

And completely fell apart when she walked out of his life.

Vern had tried to get him back on his feet after the break-up; setting up a few private parties at his apartment and inviting an assortment of “friends.” Leo had initially scoffed at the idea- who would want to get to know him- but after Mikey’s prodding had finally gone one night with his brother, meeting some of Vern’s half-assed attempts at a choice of rebound. The women at these parties ogled them, obviously only interested in their muscled bodies and intrigued by just how much of a mutant they were- not that Mikey seemed to mind. His younger brother enjoyed the flirtatious environment, the women draped on his arms, feeling his biceps as they cooed over his strength, his boisterous laugh filling the room at the attention.

Leo had steeled the walls around his heart at those parties; observing and learning from his younger brother and the other men present as he watched them in the eternal dance of seduction. It disgusted him at first, but as the nights lingered and his loneliness gripped his heart in a vice, he could feel the sourness of his heartache creep into his mouth, the bitterness of love; and he drowned it there, allowing the flirtations and slowly seeking it out more and more, letting the chase dull the ache he felt through to his core.

The women were willing, some desperate enough for love to invite him back their apartments at the end of the night, hunger clawing and heavy under the buzz of drink and lust, but it never meant anything for Leo.

One-night stands, simple transactions of flesh.

Nothing more.

But since the moment she had smiled at him, Rose had meant… more .

He wanted to dive headfirst in with her, be everything for her. And until the dojo yesterday, he had been sure that it would never be a possibility.

She would be forever out of his reach, heart intertwined with his younger brother. And he would’ve sat on the sidelines…but now, it was different.

Their kiss had poured hope into his heart, and he clutched at it like it was his only lifeline in a shipwreck.

But that hope held the promise of pain, too.

He opened the door to his room and walked in, not thinking about anything but the need for solitude, when he was met with a short yelp. He quickly shut the door behind him and blinked in surprise at Rose, who was still in the process of changing. She covered her chest with her top, clutching the soft fabric as she hissed at him.

“Leo!”

He blushed and put a hand to his face in embarrassment.

“Sorry. I completely forgot.” He mumbled.

“It’s ok.” She said with a sigh, rustling around as she finished dressing. “It is your room after all.”

Suddenly, he felt the slap of wet cloth against the hand on his face. She laughed when he jumped. He peeked through his fingers at her, narrowing his eyes slightly in a glare.

“Sorry! I ah, just figured you’d want to wipe the frosting off your face.”

He lowered his hand, now that she was fully dressed, and did as she suggested. The sugar had hardened on his skin, and the warm washcloth felt good as he cleaned it off. He folded the cloth once he finished and set it on the shelf by the door, and looked over to where Rose was putting the last touches on her makeup.

She had changed into a soft green sweater and holey light-denim jeans, and delicate pieces of gold jewelry accented her ears and fingers. Her curls danced as she moved to slip her cream converse sneakers on, cascading in copper spirals over her shoulders. He had the intense urge to sweep her off her feet and kiss her all over. His face steeled as he watched her, debating it.

She huffed as she finished and put her things back in her bag, and looked over to where the terrapin was standing at the door. His arms were crossed, and that hard look was back on his face. Rose cocked her head to the side and raised a brow at him.

“You good?”

He blinked back out of his thoughts as Rose stood in front of him with an intrigued look. He gave her a half-hearted smile and rubbed her shoulder.

“Ah- yeah. Sorry.”

“Leo.”

He looked her in the eyes at his name. There was a clear, determined look painted there among the pools of moss. She lifted her hands to cup his face, and pulled him down to hers for a single, gentle kiss. Rose let him go slowly, a sultry smile playing on her lips.

“Maybe we can pick up where we left off earlier when I get back?”

His arms snaked around her waist and fingers pressed into her back before she could blink, lips crashing into hers in a searing kiss. There was no gentleness now as mouths and teeth scraped over each other and met in urgent desperation, tongues exploring and rolling like waves between soft huffs and pants.

His hands drifted as his lips claimed hers, roaming over her hips and gripping tightly as she softly moaned into his mouth. At her mewl, he slid his hands lower and palmed her ass for a moment before lifting her up by the thighs and pulling her into his plastron. Her hands flew to his neck, the sudden pressure against her center incredible and causing another choked moan to rip from her throat. She dragged her nails against the pebbly scales at his nape as she kissed him desperately, bringing a visible shudder from him as a low rumble echoed in his chest.

He walked the few paces to his bed and sat down, letting Rose steady herself as she straddled his lap. Leo ducked his head under her jaw, kissing her neck as she continued to dig her nails into his shoulders; needy, low groans filling the space between them.

An impatient knock at the door cut through the lustful stupor, bringing a blush to both of their faces.

“You ready yet, chica? Don’t make me come in there!”

“Yep, one sec!” Rose called out, smiling. She looked down at Leo, his eyes dark with want as his hands still gripped her ass. She brushed a finger along his neck.

“I should go. She seems like the type to follow through with her threats.”

He chuckled, and dropped his hands as she got up from his lap. Leo leaned back on his hands as he watched her re-adjust her clothes and makeup.

“I sincerely hope you’ll want to pick this up later.”

Rose smirked at him. “You bet your ass I do.”

He clicked his tongue. “Language.” Raising an eye ridge, he smirked at her. “We’ll have to work on that filthy mouth of yours.”

Heat pooled in her veins as the color returned to her face at his boldness. She flashed him a sultry look. “I look forward to it.” With that, she opened the door and called over her shoulder. “See ya later, Blue.”

He could hear the women chat as they walked down the hall, and Leo fell back on his bed, sighing into the smell of her on his sheets.

#bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt x oc #tmnt fanfic #bayverse raphael #bayverse leo #bayverse turtles #tmnt 2016 #tmnt smut #every rose has it's thorn #leonardo x oc #tmnt aged up #raphael x oc #leonardo #raphael #my writing

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helianskies · 11 months ago

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11 and 3 for nedport!

i got excited for a second and then i realised you picked number 3 and :(

...but fine. if you insist >:3

11. what are their first impressions of each other?

ned: oh god please not another one—

port: um who let in the street urchin??

but really, ned would be wary of portugal at first by all accounts. he's already got strong opinions on spain when they meet and this young nation can't handle another toni. he therefore plays it carefully and keeps his mouth shut around the iberian, cards close to his chest. port might be calm and lax on the outside, but ned can see there's more to him than meets the eye. he doesn't want to test him.

meanwhile, port probably looks at ned and is briefly pitiful of this other poor kid toni has dragged home with him, but is not too heavily invested in ned as an individual. still, he first sees ned and labels him quiet and timid. no threat. mild. just... there. he's just a little lost lamb trapped in the lair of an iberian wolf. coitadinho... (shame he couldn't see the future, huh!)

3. which one outlives the other and how do they cope (this hurt to write but...)

ned outlives port.

port is not too surprised as the times draws near and he feels his connection to his land becoming tenuous, weaker, frail... it starts with the grey hairs, the aches in his body that won't go away - that only get worse, rather than get better. it scares him, but he isn't the sort to say what's wrong. he doesn't want to burden anyone with worry. which is why, when ned realises what's happening - why port is quieter, more distant - he is sworn to secrecy.

not that that makes it easier for ned, of course. but he also knows that if their time is destined to become limited, then he will do what he can to keep port happy.

so, they'll go travelling. no explanation is given to anyone who asks beyond, 'we just thought it was time to have a break'. ned and port will revisit old haunts. they'll try new things while doing the things they've loved doing together for years - maybe even centuries. ned will look after port, and port will make sure ned knows exactly what his wishes are for when the time comes.

of course, port can't keep his condition a secrst forever. but ned helps him keep it for as long as he can. then, once the cat is out of the bag, port packs up and moves in with ned (after ned nags him about it for a while). they continue to live. ned does everything in his power to keep port comfortable, and to spend as much time as possible with him. years will go by. the hairs turns more grey, the bones become more brittle. but ned stays. and port will always he grateful.

when the times comes for ned to be on his own again, 'coping' does not come into it for a while. everything feels empty - his home, his life, his soul. he's lost. he's a wreck. he breaks things in roaring tantrums and stays in bed for days on end. really, port would be having a go at him if he were still around, telling him to pick himself up, to stop being so melodramatic (which would be rich coming from him!).

it's only when ned finds himself in the presence of others - toni, arthur - even luciano - that he can start to try and come to terms with it. they have to be there for each other. he can't get through it alone.

the wounds never fully heal. but every year, once a year, he'll take himself on a trip to a place that port loved or would have loved, and he'll find somewhere peaceful and beautiful to sit down and rest so that he can share it with him. because port will never truly leave him. he's always there, watching over ned. he's in every breeze, every sunset, every wave. port will be with him right to the end, and evetually, ned finds peace in that.

[ ship ask game here! ]

#helia answers #hws netherlands #hws portugal #nedport #cake u got me in tears over having to separate them when it's out of their control 😭😭😭#i hope you're happy! because they're sure not! 😭😭😭😭😭#it had to be that way around though #i don't think port would cope at all #i think he'd just slowly fade away himself #i don't think he could be saved in the way that... at least to an extent.. ned could be #or port would just go 'well i've had a good run i suppose' and then he'd .go out to sea and never be seen again :'#either way. thanks? i think? ;')

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novaursa · 6 months ago

Text

Part 10

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Word count: 9 000+

- Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Final

The flickering light of the fireplace cast long shadows across the room as Vaella and Aegon stood side by side, the crumpled letter from Rhaenyra held in Vaella's trembling hand. The room was silent, save for the crackling of the fire and the distant murmur of the Red Keep. Aegon's arm was wrapped protectively around Vaella's waist, his concern for her evident.

Vaella’s eyes scanned the elegant script, each word like a dagger to her heart. The letter spoke of regret, of misunderstandings, and of the bond they once shared. Rhaenyra wrote about her sorrow over Aeron's death, claiming it was never her intention for such a tragedy to occur. She spoke of the love she still held for Vaella, despite the rift that had grown between them, and begged for forgiveness and understanding.

As Vaella read, her emotions churned inside her. The sorrow of losing Aeron, the anger at Rhaenyra’s perceived betrayal, and the sense of profound loss mixed together into a storm of pain and rage. She could feel Aegon's eyes on her, watching her every reaction.

“I am sorry for everything that has happened,” Rhaenyra had written. “I never wanted this war, this bloodshed. I still love you, Vaella, and I hope we can find a way to make peace for the sake of our family.”

The words blurred as tears filled Vaella’s eyes. Her grip on the parchment tightened, and with a sudden, fierce motion, she crumpled the letter and threw it into the fire. The flames hungrily consumed the paper, the inked words curling and blackening before turning to ash.

Aegon watched silently, his own emotions a tumultuous mix of sorrow and anger. He had seen Vaella's heartbreak and the toll it had taken on her. He understood the depth of her pain, and he shared in her grief.

Vaella turned away from the fire, her shoulders shaking with the force of her suppressed sobs. Aegon stepped forward, pulling her into his arms. “Vaella,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We will get through this.”

She buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking into his tunic. “She claims she didn’t mean for Aeron to die,” Vaella choked out. “But how can I believe her, Aegon? How can I forgive her when our son is dead because of her actions?”

Aegon tightened his hold on her, his own grief and anger mirrored in his eyes. “I know, my love. I know. But we will avenge him. We will make sure those responsible pay for what they’ve done.”

Vaella looked up at him, her indigo eyes filled with a fierce determination. “We have to be strong, Aegon. For Baelor, for Daena, for our future. We cannot let this break us.”

Aegon cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing away her tears. “You are the strongest person I know, Vaella. We will stand together, and we will ensure that no one dares to harm our family again.”

He kissed her then, a kiss filled with the promise of their shared strength and determination. Vaella clung to him, drawing comfort from his presence, from the love that had always been a constant in her life. Their lips moved together, a familiar dance that brought a momentary respite from their grief.

As they pulled apart, Aegon rested his forehead against hers. “We will avenge Aeron,” he vowed. “We will not rest until those responsible are brought to justice.”

Vaella nodded, her resolve hardening. “We will fight for our family, Aegon. We will protect our children and our future.”

They stood together in the flickering light of the fire, the remnants of Rhaenyra’s letter now nothing more than ash.

…

Vaella stood in before the Dragonpit, the cold autumn air biting at her skin despite the warmth of her riding gear. Her pale blonde hair was braided intricately, fitting snugly under her riding helmet. The black leather of her attire hugged her frame, adorned with silver accents that gleamed in the early morning light. Cannibal, her massive dragon, stood nearby, his black scales shimmering with an eerie coal tint.

As she made her final preparations, tightening the straps of her saddle and adjusting her gauntlets, she felt a presence behind her. Turning, she saw Aemond approaching as he returned from his own flight on Vhagar, his eye narrowed with suspicion.

“Where are you going?” Aemond asked, his voice edged with curiosity and concern.

Vaella straightened, meeting his gaze with determination. “I’m riding to the Vale,” she replied. “I intend to secure their allegiance.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed. “The Vale has already sworn allegiance to Rhaenyra through Jacaerys. What makes you think they will change their loyalty?”

Vaella’s eyes flashed with resolve. “Because I am an Arryn just as much as Rhaenyra. And my dragon is far more impressive than my nephew’s. When I arrive atop Cannibal, Lady Jeyne will have no choice but to listen to me.”

Aemond stepped closer, his expression stern. “And if she doesn’t?”

A fierce determination blazed in Vaella’s indigo eyes. “Then I will burn the Eyrie to the ground.”

Aemond regarded her for a moment, his gaze searching hers. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Vaella. Are you sure about this?”

Vaella nodded, her voice unwavering. “I have to do this, Aemond. For Aegon, for our children, and for Aeron. We need the Vale’s support. If we are to succeed, we must ensure that every House understands the power we wield.”

Aemond sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Just be careful, Vaella. The Vale is not easily intimidated.”

Vaella’s expression softened slightly. “I know. But I have to try. I cannot sit idly by while our enemies gather strength.”

Aemond gave her a curt nod, respect in his gaze. “Then go. Show them what it means to cross a Targaryen.”

With a final glance at her half-brother, Vaella turned back to Cannibal. The dragon’s eyes followed her every move, a low rumble emanating from his chest as she approached. She mounted him with practiced ease, securing herself in the saddle.

“Fly high and burn bright, Vaella,” Aemond called after her, his voice carrying a note of admiration.

Vaella gave him a resolute nod before urging Cannibal into the sky. The dragon’s powerful wings beat against the air, lifting them higher and higher until the King's Landing was nothing but a distant memory below. She could feel the wind whipping through her hair, the chill of the autumn air invigorating her.

As they soared towards the Vale, Vaella’s mind raced with thoughts of what lay ahead. She knew the risks, but she also knew the stakes. If she could secure the Vale’s allegiance, it would be a significant blow to Rhaenyra’s cause. And if she had to use force to achieve that, then so be it. She would not let anything stand in the way of protecting her family and avenging her son.

The journey was long, but Vaella’s determination never wavered. She thought of Aegon, of their children, and of the promise she had made to herself to see this through. The mountains of the Moon loomed in the distance, and as Cannibal’s shadow passed over the land, she steeled herself for the confrontation ahead.

Lady Jeyne would listen. One way or another, Vaella would make sure of it.

As the Eyrie came into view, perched high on its cliff, Vaella tightened her grip on Cannibal’s reins. The dragon let out a deafening roar, announcing their arrival. She could see the figures below, scrambling at the sight of the massive beast descending upon them.

“Let them see our strength,” Vaella whispered to herself, her resolve hardening.

With one final, powerful beat of his wings, Cannibal landed in the courtyard of the Eyrie. The ground shook beneath them, and Vaella dismounted with the grace of a warrior queen. The gathered lords and ladies of the Vale watched her with a mixture of awe and fear.

“Lady Jeyne,” Vaella called out, her voice ringing with authority. “I come to speak on behalf of my husband, King Aegon. It is time to choose a side.”

The tension in the air was palpable as Vaella strode forward, her eyes fixed on the imposing figure of Lady Jeyne. The fate of the Vale hung in the balance, and Vaella was ready to tip the scales in their favor.

One way or another, she would ensure that the Vale pledged its loyalty to her husband. And if it took fire and blood to do so, then so be it.

As the gates of the Eyrie closed behind her, Vaella knew there was no turning back. This was her moment to prove her strength, to show the world what it meant to be a Targaryen.

The future of the realm depended on it.

…

The grand hall of the Eyrie was cold, despite the blazing hearths that roared on either side of the throne where Lady Jeyne Arryn sat. Queen Vaella Targaryen stood before her, the very image of Targaryen majesty.

Jeyne Arryn regarded her with a cool expression, though the presence of the fearsome dragon and the equally formidable woman 7was hard to ignore. The court around them was silent, waiting with bated breath for the exchange between these two powerful women.

"Your nephew Jacaerys was here not long ago," Jeyne began, her voice steady. "He arrived on his dragon and made a deal."

Vaella scoffed, the sound echoing through the hall. "And I see how well that deal has paid off for you. Tell me, did he not promise you a dragon?"

Jeyne’s lips pressed into a thin line. "He did."

"And yet, as I flew through the Vale, I saw no sign of this promised dragon. I could have burned it all to the ground if I wished, and nothing could have stopped me," Vaella said, her tone casual but with an undercurrent of menace.

The assembled nobles shifted uncomfortably. Jeyne held her gaze. "You should be ashamed. You and your husband have usurped your sister's throne."

Vaella's eyes flashed. "We have stolen nothing. The throne was thrust upon us. Rhaenyra makes war through killing babes and unfulfilled promises."

There was a murmur of assent from some of the courtiers. Jeyne raised a hand for silence. "My condolences for your loss, Vaella. No mother should have to bury her child. But tell me, what better offer do you bring to the Vale?"

Vaella stepped closer to the throne, her voice low and compelling. "I can give the Vale a larger dragon, not a baby hatchling that can barely control its flames. I offer you a rider with a more experienced dragon, a true protector of your lands."

Jeyne's expression softened slightly, though her skepticism remained. "You came here yourself, Vaella, instead of sending an envoy like Rhaenyra. That much I can respect."

Vaella nodded. "I came because I understand the importance of this alliance. The Greens and the Vale can be powerful together. Rhaenyra has shown she does not value you enough to come herself."

The court murmured again, this time more favorably. Jeyne leaned forward, her eyes searching Vaella's face. "Why should I trust you? What guarantees do I have that you will keep your word?"

Vaella met her gaze steadily. "Because I know the value of honor. My husband and I will swear an oath before the Gods and the old Kings of the Vale. We will bind ourselves to you, and you to us. Together, we can bring peace and prosperity to the realm."

Jeyne sat back, considering. "And what of Rhaenyra? She will not take this betrayal lightly."

Vaella's lips curved into a cold smile. "Let her come. We have the strength of dragons and the will to use them. The Vale will be safe under our protection."

There was a long silence as Jeyne weighed her options. Finally, she nodded. "Very well. We will consider your offer. But know this, Vaella Targaryen: if you betray us, there will be no place in the Seven Kingdoms where you and your kin can hide from our wrath."

Vaella inclined her head. "I would expect nothing less."

As Vaella turned to leave, the courtiers began to talk amongst themselves, the weight of the decision hanging heavily in the air. Lady Jeyne watched her go, her mind already turning to the future and the uncertain alliance she had just forged.

…

The atmosphere in the Red Keep's council chamber was thick with tension. Queen Vaella had departed for the Vale earlier that day, leaving behind a small council in disarray. At the head of the table, King Aegon II Targaryen sat with a stern expression, his eyes moving over the gathered lords and his mother, Queen Dowager Alicent.

The members of the small council, Lord Tayland Lannister, Lord Jasper Wylde, Lord Larys Strong, and Grand Maester Orwyle, exchanged uneasy glances. The absence of Ser Criston Cole, who was leading the Green troops on Duskendale, was palpable. It was Lord Aemond who broke the silence.

"Our next target should be Rook's Rest," Aemond declared, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "If Vaella manages to secure the Vale's support, we can deal with Harrenhal and Daemon later."

The room buzzed with murmurs of surprise and concern. Alicent was the first to voice her thoughts. "Rook's Rest is a bold move, Aemond. But what of Vaella's departure? Why were we not consulted? This was not a wise decision to be made without our counsel."

Aegon leaned forward, his gaze icy. "Vaella and I made the decision together. I have full confidence in her abilities. I will not allow this council to question it."

Lord Tayland Lannister cleared his throat. "Your Grace, we do not doubt Queen Vaella's capabilities. But to send her into enemy territory without consulting us—"

Aegon cut him off. "Vaella is more than capable of handling herself and securing the Vale's allegiance. Her presence will command respect and fear, something an envoy cannot achieve."

Larys Strong, always the voice of cautious pragmatism, interjected. "Your Grace, it is not the Queen's abilities we question, but the strategy. The Vale is a treacherous place. What if something were to happen to her?"

Aegon's eyes blazed with determination. "Nothing will happen to her. Cannibal is a force to be reckoned with, and Vaella is more than a match for any threat she may encounter. Now that Duskendale is secure, I intend to fly there as planned. I will avenge Aeron's death, and nothing will stand in my way."

Aemond nodded in agreement. "I will go as well to meet with Ser Criston's forces. But we should wait until Vaella and Cannibal return. Her dragon will protect the capital while we are gone."

Alicent's face softened with worry. "Aegon, my son, are you sure this is the right course of action? Sending Vaella to the Vale, planning an attack on Rook's Rest... these are dangerous moves."

Aegon reached out to take his mother's hand, his expression resolute. "Mother, Vaella and I are united in this. We are determined to bring an end to Rhaenyra's tyranny and avenge our son's death. The Greens must show strength and decisiveness. We cannot afford to hesitate."

Grand Maester Orwyle, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "Your Grace, if I may suggest, we should ensure that all our forces are ready for any retaliation. Rhaenyra will not take our moves lightly."

Aegon nodded. "Agreed. Prepare the men and fortify our defenses. We will strike swiftly and decisively."

As the meeting drew to a close, the small council members left the chamber, still murmuring among themselves. Aegon remained seated, his thoughts turning to Vaella. He trusted her completely and knew she would succeed. But the weight of the war and the losses they had suffered weighed heavily on his shoulders.

He rose and walked to the window, looking out over the capital. The sky was clear, but the storm of war loomed on the horizon. With Vaella by his side, he felt a surge of determination.

Aemond joined him at the window. "We'll bring Rook's Rest to its knees, brother. And when Vaella returns, we'll show the realm the strength of House Targaryen."

Aegon nodded, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. "Yes, we will."

As the sun set over King's Landing, the two brothers stood side by side, ready to face the trials ahead.

…

It was midday when Queen Vaella Targaryen returned to the Red Keep, the thundering roar of Cannibal echoing across King's Landing as the large dragon circled the city. The gates to the throne room were already open, the air inside buzzing with anticipation. King Aegon II and Prince Aemond stood with the Iron Throne looming behind them, their eyes fixed on the entrance.

As Vaella entered, Aegon’s face lit up with joy. He strode forward, his arms outstretched. "Vaella," he greeted, pulling her into a warm embrace. Even when she was away for a short time, he missed her dearly.

Vaella smiled, returning his embrace with equal fervor. "Aegon, my love," she said softly, pulling back to look into his eyes. "I have succeeded. The Vale has been swayed to our side, away from Rhaenyra."

Aegon beamed with pride, his eyes shining. "You’ve done it, Vaella. You’ve accomplished what many thought impossible."

Aemond stepped forward, his expression more calculating. "And what was the price?" he asked, his voice low.

Vaella turned to face him, her indigo eyes steady. "Aegon and I must swear an oath to protect them. We also promised a dragon, larger than the one Jacaerys offered."

Aegon nodded thoughtfully. "I will send a message to Oldtown. Daeron can go to the Vale. His dragon, Tessarion, will provide the protection they seek."

A soft voice interrupted their planning. "I will go."

The three turned to see Helaena, standing at the edge of the throne room. She had been quietly observing their reunion and conversations. Her presence was serene, her eyes calm and determined.

Aemond’s face softened. "Helaena, that is not necessary. You needn’t put yourself in harm's way."

Helaena shook her head gently. "I want to go. The twins and I will be safe there. And I can help. Dreamfyre and I are needed in the Vale."

Vaella stepped forward, her expression tender. "Helaena, we do not wish for you to be in danger. Your presence here is valuable."

Helaena met Vaella’s gaze with quiet strength. "No, Vaella. This is where I am needed. The Vale will be safe with me there, and I can offer counsel and support."

Aegon looked at his sister, concern etched in his features. "Are you certain, Helaena? We cannot afford to lose you."

Helaena nodded, her resolve unwavering. "I am certain, brother. This is where Dreamfyre and I must be."

Aemond sighed, a mixture of admiration and worry in his eyes. "Very well, Helaena. If this is what you wish, then we will support you."

Aegon nodded in agreement. "We will make the necessary arrangements. The Vale will welcome you with open arms, and they will know the strength of our family."

Vaella placed a gentle hand on Helaena's shoulder. "Be safe, Helaena. The Vale is fortunate to have you."

Helaena smiled softly. "And I am fortunate to have such a family. We will prevail, together."

As the arrangements were made, Aemond took Helaena by the hand, his touch gentle yet firm. "Let us prepare you and the children for the journey to the Vale," he said softly, his eyes filled with both love and concern.

Helaena nodded, her gaze lingering on Aegon and Vaella for a moment before she and Aemond departed from the throne room, leaving the King and Queen alone.

Aegon turned to Vaella, a warm smile spreading across his face. "It's just us now," he said, his voice tender. He took her hand, pulling her close. "I missed you, Vaella. Even when you're gone for just a short while, it feels like an eternity."

Vaella smiled, her fingers tracing the lines of his face. "And I missed you, Aegon. The Vale was necessary, but my heart belongs here, with you."

Aegon leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Let's go to our chambers. There is much we need to discuss, and I want to spend time with you before I leave for Duskendale."

Together, they walked through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, the familiar sights and sounds of their home surrounding them. As they passed the guards and servants, everyone bowed in respect, but Aegon and Vaella barely noticed. Their focus was entirely on each other.

As they entered the royal quarters, the heavy doors closed behind them, enveloping them in a cocoon of privacy. The opulent chambers were adorned with rich tapestries and plush furnishings, a testament to their status and power. Aegon guided Vaella to their shared chambers, his hand never leaving hers.

Once inside, Aegon pulled Vaella into a deeper embrace. "I need to tell you something," he began, his voice a mixture of determination and regret. "Aemond and I will be leaving for Duskendale soon, as you know. We need to strategize further with Ser Criston Cole. Our next target is Rook's Rest."

Vaella nodded, her expression serious. "I understand. We need to stay ahead of Rhaenyra and her forces. But promise me you'll be careful, Aegon."

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing her cheeks. "I promise. We'll take every precaution. But I need to know that you and our children will be safe here."

Vaella placed her hand over his, her eyes unwavering. "We will be. The capital is well-protected, and Cannibal will ensure that no threat comes near us."

Aegon smiled, a glint of pride in his eyes. "You've always been so strong, Vaella. It's one of the many reasons I love you."

Vaella's lips curved into a soft smile. "And I love you, Aegon. We will get through this."

They moved to the large bed, the canopy draped with silken curtains. Aegon sat on the edge, pulling Vaella onto his lap. He held her close, his fingers threading through her elaborate braids.

"I can't help but worry," Aegon admitted, his voice low. "The thought of you in danger, of our children being caught in the crossfire again… it haunts me."

Vaella rested her forehead against his, her voice soothing. "We must remain strong for our family, for our kingdom. We've faced so much already, and we've come out stronger each time."

Aegon nodded, drawing comfort from her words. "You're right. And we have each other. That is our greatest strength."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their responsibilities pressing down on them. But within the safety of their chambers, they found solace in each other's presence.

Vaella broke the silence, her tone gentle yet firm. "When you are in Duskendale, remember that we are always with you, in spirit. Our bond is unbreakable, Aegon. No matter the distance or the dangers, we will always find our way back to each other."

Aegon kissed her again, this time with a fierceness born of love and determination. "I will remember, Vaella. And I will fight with everything I have to ensure our future is secure."

Vaella’s lips met Aegon’s with a fervor that spoke of their deep connection. As she sat on his lap, their kisses grew more intense, their need for each other evident. With practiced ease, their hands moved to discard their clothing, each piece falling away as if it had no place between them.

Aegon’s fingers deftly unfastened the intricate clasps of Vaella’s dress, sliding the fabric from her shoulders and down her body. She did the same for him, removing his tunic and letting her hands roam over his bare chest. Their breaths quickened as they felt the familiar warmth of each other's skin.

"I missed this," Aegon murmured against her lips, his voice a husky whisper. "I missed you."

"And I missed you," Vaella replied, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him again, deeper this time. "We are strongest when we are together."

Their bodies pressed closer, the heat between them building. Aegon’s hands moved to her hips, lifting her slightly as he aligned their bodies. With a gasp, Vaella felt him enter her, their union seamless and eager.

They moved together with a rhythm that spoke of their intimacy, each thrust and movement perfectly synchronized. Vaella’s fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails leaving faint marks as their pace intensified.

"Aegon," she whispered, her voice filled with both love and desire. "Promise me you'll return safely."

"I promise," he groaned, his grip on her hips tightening. "I will always return to you, my queen."

Their breaths became ragged, their movements more urgent. Vaella’s head fell back, her hair cascading down her back as she rode him, their bodies moving as one. Aegon’s hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer as their climax approached.

"You are my everything," he breathed, his lips brushing against her ear. "Together, we can face anything."

Vaella’s response was a moan of pleasure, her body trembling as they reached the peak of their passion. Aegon followed soon after, their release a shared explosion of sensation that left them both breathless and sated.

They held each other close, their bodies entwined as they caught their breath. Vaella rested her head against Aegon’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

"We are strong, Aegon," she whispered, her fingers tracing patterns on his skin. "Stronger than anything that comes our way."

Aegon kissed the top of her head, his arms wrapped securely around her. "We are, Vaella. And we will face the future together, no matter what."

In the quiet of their chambers, they lay together, their bond reaffirmed by their shared intimacy. As they drifted into a peaceful sleep, their dreams intertwined, filled with visions of a future where they ruled together, their love unbreakable and their kingdom strong.

…

As the evening deepened, Aemond and Helaena prepared for their departure with their twin children. Their quarters were a flurry of activity, with servants packing clothes and provisions while Helaena attended to the children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, ensuring they were ready for the journey.

Aemond watched his wife with a mixture of admiration and concern. Helaena had always been strong and determined, but this decision to go to the Vale was fraught with risks. He approached her as she knelt by the twins, her hands gentle as she dressed them in warm clothes for the night.

"Helaena," he began softly, his voice filled with both love and worry. "I will escort you part of the way, but I must split with Aegon to fly to Duskendale."

Helaena looked up, her eyes meeting his with a calm resolve. "I understand, Aemond. This is something I must do."

As they continued their preparations, the door opened and Queen Dowager Alicent entered, her expression one of barely concealed displeasure. She approached Helaena, her gaze sweeping over the bustling room.

"Helaena, this is madness," Alicent said, her voice low but firm. "Taking the twins to the Vale without consulting me? What are you thinking?"

Helaena rose to face her mother, her tone gentle but unwavering. "Mother, this is something I must do. The Vale needs our presence, and Dreamfyre will protect us."

Alicent’s eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and worry. "You are needed here, Helaena. And the children—"

"They will be safe with me," Helaena interrupted, her voice resolute. "This is my decision, and it is final."

Seeing the determination in Helaena’s eyes, Alicent sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. She turned to Aemond, motioning for him to follow her to a quieter corner of the room.

Once they were alone, Alicent's concern became more apparent. "Aemond, is it wise to take Aegon with you to Duskendale? He may be the king, and his behavior has improved regarding his drinking, but it is still Aegon."

Aemond’s expression softened slightly, understanding his mother’s worry. "Mother, Aegon is our king. He needs to be seen leading our forces, to show strength and resolve. Besides, he has improved. Vaella’s influence has been a good one."

Alicent shook her head, worry etched into her features. "I know, but I cannot help but fear for both of you. The realm is in turmoil, and I do not want to lose my sons."

Aemond placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We will be careful, Mother. We will take every precaution. Aegon needs this, for himself and for the realm. And I will be there to ensure his safety."

Alicent nodded, though her worry did not entirely dissipate. "Promise me you will look after him, Aemond. And yourself."

"I promise," Aemond said firmly. "We will return victorious."

As they rejoined Helaena and the children, Alicent’s eyes lingered on her daughter and grandchildren. She pulled Helaena into a tight embrace. "Be safe, my dear. And take care of the twins."

Helaena hugged her mother back, whispering softly. "We will, Mother. We will see each other again soon."

The night continued with final preparations, the weight of their impending journey hanging heavily over them. Aemond and Helaena shared a quiet moment with their children, reassuring them and each other of the safety and necessity of their mission.

As dawn approached, the family was ready. Aemond stood by Helaena, his arm around her shoulders as they looked out over King's Landing from the balcony.

"Are you ready?" Aemond asked, his voice gentle.

Helaena nodded, her resolve unshaken. "Yes, I am. And you?"

Aemond kissed her forehead. "Always, as long as I have you."

Together, they stepped back into their quarters, ready to face the journey ahead.

…

The Dragonpit loomed large against the dawn sky, its ancient walls casting long shadows across the courtyard. The air was filled with the sounds of dragons stirring, their growls and hisses a reminder of the power that House Targaryen wielded. Outside the massive structure, the royal family gathered for their farewells.

Aegon stood before his family, his expression one of determination and resolve. His golden dragon, Sunfyre, waited nearby, the morning light reflecting off its iridescent scales. Vaella stood before their two children, Baelor and Daena, her face a mix of strength and tenderness.

Baelor, the eldest, now bore a deep scar from mouth to ear, a grim reminder of the night his baby brother Aeron died. The sight of the scar filled Aegon with even more resolve to see this war through to its end. Daena, their bright-eyed daughter, clung to her mother’s side, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity.

Aegon knelt down to his children, his voice gentle yet firm. "Baelor, Daena, I must go with Uncle Aemond for a time. But know this: I will return, and I will make sure you are safe."

Baelor, his young face set in a determined expression that mirrored his father's, nodded. "I understand, Father. Be safe and come back to us."

Daena, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, hugged her father tightly. "I love you, Father. Please be careful."

Aegon embraced his daughter, kissing the top of her head. "I love you too, Daena. I will be careful, I promise."

Rising, Aegon turned to Vaella. Their eyes locked, a silent exchange of love and support passing between them. He took her hands in his, his voice filled with emotion. "Vaella, my love. I will miss you every moment I am gone."

Vaella leaned in, her forehead resting against his. "And I will miss you, Aegon. Be strong, and return to us. We need you."

Their goodbye kiss was filled with a passionate intensity, a blend of love, determination, and the weight of the responsibility they both bore. As they pulled apart, Aegon brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch lingering.

"I will return," he promised one last time, his voice a whisper.

Turning, Aegon mounted Sunfyre with practiced ease. The dragon's powerful wings unfurled, catching the light of the rising sun. Aemond and Helaena, already astride their dragons, awaited him in the sky above.

With a final look at his family, Aegon urged Sunfyre into the air. The dragon's powerful wings beat against the sky, lifting them higher and higher until they joined Aemond and Helaena. The three dragons soared together, a formidable sight against the dawn light.

Vaella and the children watched until the dragons were mere specks on the horizon. Baelor stood tall, his small hand clutching Daena's tightly. "Father will return," he said with the certainty of youth.

"Yes, he will," Vaella agreed, her voice steady. She gathered her children close, turning towards the secured carriage that awaited them. "Come, let's return to the Red Keep."

As they climbed into the carriage, Vaella took one last look at the sky, a silent prayer on her lips for the safety of her husband and their family. The carriage door closed with a firm click, and they began the journey back to the Red Keep, their hearts filled with both hope and resolve.

Inside the carriage, Vaella held her children close, her mind already planning for the days ahead. They would remain strong, just as Aegon was strong.

…

As the carriage made its way through the bustling streets of King's Landing, Vaella peered out at the city beyond. The smallfolk went about their daily lives, their faces a mix of determination and weariness. She noted the ragged clothes and the thin faces of children playing in the dirt. The needs of the people were clear, and Aegon's promise to help them with coin and food echoed in her mind.

Vaella remembered the countless times smallfolk had petitioned at court, seeking aid from their king. Aegon had always been sympathetic, much to the displeasure of Otto and the council. But Vaella knew that a king's word must not be broken, especially now as autumn began to set in. The risk of riots and civil unrest loomed large if they failed to keep their promises.

Upon returning to the Red Keep, Vaella wasted no time. She sent out summons for a small council meeting, knowing full well that her call would be unexpected.

The members of the council gathered in the chamber, their expressions ranging from curiosity to annoyance. Lord Tayland Lannister, Lord Jasper Wylde, Lord Larys Strong, and Grand Maester Orwyle took their seats, murmuring among themselves. Queen Dowager Alicent arrived last, her gaze assessing Vaella with a mixture of curiosity and respect.

Vaella stood at the head of the table, her presence commanding. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice. We have pressing matters to discuss."

Lord Tayland shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Your Grace, we were not expecting a meeting today. What is the urgency?"

Vaella's gaze was steady as she addressed the council. "As I rode through the city today, I saw the needs of our people. My husband, King Aegon, promised them aid in the form of coin and food. We must honor that promise."

Jasper Wylde frowned. "Your Grace, the blockade of the Gullet has crippled our economy greatly. We are struggling with resources ourselves."

Vaella fixed him with a piercing gaze. "Are you telling me we have no coin, no grain, or cattle of our own to distribute?"

Tayland Lannister cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "The blockade has indeed impacted our finances. The Gullet was a vital trade route, and its closure has strained our coffers."

Before he could continue, Alicent spoke up, her voice firm. "Vaella is right. We must take care of our people. If we neglect them now, we risk losing their support, which could lead to far greater problems."

Larys Strong nodded thoughtfully. "The queen has a point. The smallfolk are the backbone of our city. If we help them now, they will remain loyal."

Vaella looked around the table, her expression resolute. "We will find a way to provide the aid we promised. If we take care of the common people, they will take care of us in return. I want coin distributed to those in need and food to be rationed and given to the hungry."

Jasper Wylde tried to counter. "But, Your Grace—"

Vaella cut him off, her voice commanding. "This is not a request. It is an order. Make it happen."

The council members exchanged glances, some nodding in reluctant agreement. Vaella’s determination left little room for argument.

Alicent leaned forward, her eyes meeting Vaella’s with approval. "We will do as the queen commands. Let us ensure that the smallfolk receive the aid they need."

The meeting adjourned with a sense of urgency. Vaella watched as the council members filed out, her mind already planning the next steps. She knew the road ahead would be challenging, but she was determined to uphold her husband's promises and protect their kingdom.

As she returned to her chambers, Vaella felt a sense of resolve wash over her. She would not let the people down. With Aegon and Aemond away, it was her duty to stand strong and ensure the realm remained stable.

She looked out over the city from her window, the sun setting on the horizon.

…

The sky over Duskendale was a canvas of fiery hues as the sun began its descent. The once-bustling town now lay under the shadow of two dragons, Sunfyre and Vhagar, their riders surveying the scene below with a mix of satisfaction and grim determination. Aegon II Targaryen and his brother Aemond had arrived to find the town firmly in the hands of their forces, led by Ser Criston Cole and Ser Gwayne Hightower.

As Sunfyre and Vhagar landed in the central square, their enormous forms causing the ground to tremble, the inhabitants of Duskendale dared not look up. The smell of smoke and blood was thick in the air, evidence of the recent battle. Bodies of those who had defied the crown lay strewn about, a stark warning to any who would oppose the Targaryen rule.

Ser Criston Cole approached the dragons, his armor bloodied but his expression resolute. He bowed deeply as Aegon dismounted, his kingly demeanor a sharp contrast to the chaos around them. Aemond followed suit, his eyes scanning the area with a predatory glint.

"Your Grace," Criston greeted, his voice steady. "Duskendale is ours. Those who would not bend the knee have been dealt with."

Aegon nodded, his expression stern. "Well done, Ser Criston. We needed this victory. What of the town's leaders?"

Criston gestured towards the steps of the town hall, where several bodies lay, their hands still bound. "Lord Darklyn and his closest supporters refused to swear loyalty. They paid the price for their defiance."

Aemond, his one good eye gleaming with a cold light, stepped forward. "The message is clear, then. Defiance will not be tolerated. What about the common folk?"

Ser Gwayne Hightower approached, his expression equally serious. "Most of the commoners have been spared. They were quick to submit once they saw the fate of their leaders. We’ve secured their grain stores and other supplies. The blockade of the Gullet has made resources scarce, but this should help."

Aegon turned to Aemond, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "We need to ensure stability here before moving on to Rook's Rest. This victory is a start, but we cannot afford complacency."

Aemond nodded, his demeanor calm but alert. "Agreed. We should address the townspeople, reassure them of their safety under our rule. Fear is a powerful tool, but loyalty is even stronger."

Aegon looked to Criston. "Have the town's people gathered in the square. We will speak to them."

Criston bowed and moved to carry out the order, while Aegon and Aemond took a moment to confer. "This is just the beginning," Aegon said quietly. "We must maintain this momentum."

Aemond's lips curled into a thin smile. "We will, brother. Rook's Rest will fall next, and then Harrenhal. One victory at a time."

The square began to fill with the townspeople, their faces a mix of fear and curiosity. Mothers clutched their children tightly, and men stood protectively beside their families. Aegon stepped forward, his presence commanding attention.

"People of Duskendale," Aegon began, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Your town is now under the protection of the crown. Those who defied us have been dealt with. You have nothing to fear if you remain loyal."

There were murmurs among the crowd, but no one dared speak out. Aegon continued, his tone firm but not unkind. "We understand that times are hard. The blockade has made resources scarce. But we will ensure that you have what you need to survive. In return, we ask for your loyalty and cooperation."

Aemond stepped up beside him. "Our enemies would see this realm torn apart. Together, we can ensure peace and prosperity. Trust in us, and you will be protected."

The townspeople seemed to relax slightly, the promise of protection and provision easing some of their fears. Aegon and Aemond exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them.

As the crowd began to disperse, Ser Criston returned, his face thoughtful. "Your Grace, what are your orders for the next steps?"

Aegon considered for a moment. "Ensure the town is secure and that the supplies are distributed fairly. We need the people to see that we are true to our word. Then prepare the troops for our next move to Rook's Rest."

Aemond added, "Keep an eye out for any signs of rebellion. We cannot afford any more surprises."

Criston nodded. "It will be done."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the town, Aegon and Aemond returned to their dragons. The road ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, but they were determined to press on. The strength of House Targaryen would be proven, one victory at a time.

Aegon looked back at the town, the flickering lights of torches casting an eerie glow. "We will bring peace to this realm, Aemond. For our family, and for our people."

Aemond’s expression was resolute. "Yes, we will. And those who stand against us will fall."

With a final glance at the secured town of Duskendale, the two brothers mounted their dragons, ready to take the next step in their campaign. The roar of dragonfire echoed into the night, a promise of the power and determination of House Targaryen.

…

The days following their victory in Duskendale were a blur of preparation and strategy. Aegon and Aemond, along with Ser Criston Cole and Ser Gwayne Hightower, worked tirelessly to ensure their next move would be as decisive and effective as their last. The target: Rook's Rest.

The command tent was filled with maps, diagrams, and markers representing their forces. The air was thick with the smell of ink and parchment, mixed with the earthy scent of the surrounding countryside. Aegon stood at the center, his eyes scanning the detailed maps of Rook's Rest and its surrounding areas.

Aemond leaned over the table, his finger tracing a route on the map. "We need to approach from the north. The terrain is rougher, but it will provide better cover for our forces and dragons."

Ser Criston nodded, his face serious. "Agreed. Rook's Rest is heavily fortified. A direct assault would be costly. We need to weaken their defenses first."

Ser Gwayne added, "We should also consider the possibility of Rhaenyra unleashing one of her dragons in retaliation. We must ensure our dragons are well hidden and ready to strike if needed."

Aegon sighed, his thoughts momentarily drifting to Vaella. He missed her presence, her strength, and the comfort she brought him. But he quickly refocused, knowing the importance of their mission. "We will keep Sunfyre and Vhagar hidden in the nearby woods. They will be close enough to strike if necessary but concealed from prying eyes."

Aemond looked at his brother, noting the brief flicker of longing in his eyes. "Aegon, Vaella is strong. She is holding the capital and ensuring the people remain loyal. We must focus on our task here."

Aegon nodded, his resolve hardening. "You're right, Aemond. We must remain focused. Ser Criston, what is the current state of Rook's Rest's defenses?"

Criston pointed to the map. "They have reinforced the walls and increased the number of guards. However, they are not expecting a siege. We have the element of surprise on our side."

Aegon studied the map, his mind racing with possibilities. "We will begin by cutting off their supply lines. Starve them out and force them into a weakened state. Once their defenses are compromised, we will strike."

Aemond tapped the map with his finger. "We should also send scouts to gather intelligence on their movements. We need to know if they are planning any counterattacks or if reinforcements are on the way."

Ser Gwayne nodded. "I will arrange for scouts to be dispatched immediately. We should also prepare our own forces for a prolonged siege. This will not be a quick battle."

Aegon agreed. "Ensure the men are well supplied and ready for anything. We cannot afford to be caught off guard."

As the planning continued, Aegon's thoughts returned to Vaella. He imagined her in the Red Keep, her presence commanding and compassionate. He missed her deeply, but he knew she was capable and strong.

Aemond noticed his brother's distraction and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Aegon, we will finish this quickly and return to our family. Vaella is waiting for you."

Aegon nodded, drawing strength from his brother's words. "Thank you, Aemond. Let's ensure our plans are flawless. Rook's Rest will fall, and we will secure our position."

The command tent buzzed with activity as orders were given and preparations made. The camp outside was a hive of activity, soldiers sharpening weapons, tending to their mounts, and readying themselves for the upcoming siege.

Days turned into nights as the preparations continued. The scouts returned with valuable information about the enemy's movements, confirming that no reinforcements were expected for several weeks. The time to strike was now.

On the eve of the siege, Aegon and Aemond stood together, overlooking the camp. The fires burned brightly, casting long shadows over the determined faces of their men.

"Aegon," Aemond said quietly, "we are ready. Tomorrow, we will take Rook's Rest and further solidify our claim."

Aegon nodded, his heart filled with a mix of anticipation and resolve.

As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, the siege began. The forces of House Targaryen moved with precision and purpose, cutting off supply lines and tightening the noose around Rook's Rest. The defenders, caught off guard, scrambled to reinforce their positions.

Aegon and Aemond remained vigilant, directing their forces and ensuring their dragons remained hidden but ready. The days stretched on, each one bringing them closer to their goal.

Aegon's longing for Vaella remained, but it was tempered by the knowledge that each victory brought them closer to a united and secure realm. The siege of Rook's Rest was a crucial step in their journey, and he was determined to see it through to the end.

As the walls of Rook's Rest began to crumble and the defenders' resolve weakened, Aegon knew their victory was within reach. He looked to Aemond, his brother's fierce determination mirrored in his own eyes.

"Today, we take Rook's Rest," Aegon declared.

With a final nod, the brothers led their forces forward, the roar of dragons and the clash of steel heralding the dawn of a new era.

…

The sun rose sluggishly over the horizon, casting a blood-red hue across the desolate landscape of Rook's Rest. The castle's ancient stones, now surrounded by the besieging forces of Ser Criston Cole and Ser Gwayne Hightower, seemed to absorb the tension in the air. Below, the encampments buzzed with the preparations of war—men sharpening swords, tightening armor, and muttering prayers to the Seven.

Above the battlefield, the sky was an ominous expanse, promising not only bloodshed but the arrival of dragons. The sense of anticipation was palpable, a heavy cloak draped over every soldier's shoulders.

In the midst of this chaos, King Aegon II Targaryen stood poised atop Sunfyre. His golden dragon’s scales glinted fiercely in the early light, a radiant beacon against the gloom. Aegon’s thoughts, however, were far from the battle. He saw Vaella’s eyes, heard her melodic laughter, and felt the warmth of her embrace. They had been inseparable since infancy, their bond only growing stronger through marriage and parenthood.

“She’s waiting for me,” Aegon murmured to Sunfyre, stroking the dragon’s neck. “We’ll return to her, victorious.”

Nearby, Vhagar, the colossal dragon ridden by Aemond Targaryen, loomed like a storm cloud. Aemond’s single eye burned with cold determination. He glanced at his brother, understanding the weight of Aegon's burden but sharing none of his sentimentality.

“Are you ready, brother?” Aemond’s voice was a low growl, cutting through the morning air.

Aegon nodded, steel in his gaze. “Ready as ever. Let’s end this.”

From the direction of Dragonstone, a fierce roar split the sky. Meleys, the Red Queen, approached with Princess Rhaenys Targaryen astride her. Her crimson scales shimmered like fresh blood, and her roar was a battle cry that sent shivers through even the bravest soldiers.

“She comes,” Aemond announced, his voice a mixture of excitement and menace.

The ground troops, led by Cole and Hightower, looked up in awe and terror as the dragons converged. The air crackled with the promise of fire and death.

As Meleys neared, Sunfyre launched into the sky, Aegon guiding him with practiced ease. Vhagar followed, Aemond’s fierce grin visible even from afar.

The clash was cataclysmic. Meleys spewed flames at Sunfyre, who dodged nimbly, retaliating with a torrent of golden fire. The heat was unbearable, waves of it rolling over the soldiers below, causing some to drop their weapons and flee in panic.

Vhagar and Aemond circled above, waiting for an opening. When it came, they dove with lethal precision, Vhagar’s massive jaws snapping at Meleys’ wings.

Rhaenys fought valiantly, urging Meleys to strike hard and fast. But Sunfyre and Vhagar were relentless. Sunfyre’s claws tore into Meleys, rending scales and flesh. The sky filled with the screeches of dragons and the scent of burning flesh.

Aegon felt the searing heat as Meleys' fire engulfed Sunfyre, his armor beginning to melt, fusing with his flesh. Pain like he’d never known surged through him, but his thoughts remained on Vaella. Her face was his anchor as he fought through the agony.

With a final, devastating blow, Meleys’ wing was torn by Sunfyre, sending her spiraling downward. But in the chaos, Sunfyre too was struck, his wing nearly severed. Aegon felt the world tilt as they plummeted.

“Aemond!” Aegon shouted, his voice raw with pain and fear.

Vhagar and Aemond moved in, their combined might overpowering the weakened Meleys. The Red Queen’s roars became weaker, her movements sluggish.

As they fell, Aegon's thoughts were a jumble of memories and regrets. He saw Vaella’s smile, heard their children’s laughter, felt the soft touch of her hand. “Vaella…” he whispered, the world going dark as the ground rushed up to meet him.

Sunfyre hit the earth with a bone-shattering impact, Aegon’s body crushed beneath the dragon’s weight. His last conscious thought was of Vaella, her name a silent prayer on his lips.

Above, Vhagar delivered the killing blow to Meleys. Her maws snapping her neck. Rhaenys and her dragon fell, their lifeless forms crashing to the ground with a thunderous noise.

The battlefield fell silent, the echoes of the dragon’s roars fading into the distance. The soldiers watched in awe and horror as the once-mighty dragons lay defeated. The tide of the war had shifted, but the cost had been great.

…

Vaella stood in the council chamber of the Red Keep, her gaze steady as she looked over the gathered members of the small council. The past few days had been a whirlwind of activity, with her focus firmly on ensuring the loyalty and well-being of the people of King's Landing. The Reach had generously offered aid with food supplies, a lifeline as the cold grip of autumn promised the coming darkness of winter.

"Thank you all for coming," Vaella began, her voice clear and commanding. "Our people need our support now more than ever. The Reach's aid is a blessing, but we must ensure that it is distributed fairly and effectively."

Lord Tayland Lannister, always a cautious voice, spoke up. "Your Grace, while the food supplies from the Reach are welcome, we must be mindful of our own cattle reserves. The dragons require substantial resources, and we cannot afford to neglect their needs."

Vaella nodded, understanding the gravity of his concerns. "I agree, Lord Tayland. But the well-being of our people must come first. We will allocate resources wisely to ensure that both our dragons and our people are cared for."

Lord Jasper Wylde, ever pragmatic, added, "The blockade of the Gullet remains a significant problem. It chokes our trade routes and limits our access to additional supplies."

Vaella's eyes narrowed with determination. "The blockade of the Gullet will be dealt with soon. Aegon and Aemond are taking steps to ensure our victory in that regard. We must be patient and focus on the immediate needs at hand."

Larys Strong, ever the strategist, leaned forward. "And what of the North, Your Grace? The Starks have traditionally been more concerned with matters beyond the Wall. Their focus will likely remain there as winter approaches."

Vaella considered his words carefully. "The North will indeed be preoccupied with the Wall and the coming winter. But we must not underestimate their importance. Their loyalty to the realm is crucial. We will send emissaries to divide Rhaenyra’s support. Some of Stark’s bannermen are not so honor bound to old oaths. If we win their favor, they can stall my sister’s efforts in the North."

The council members exchanged glances, weighing the queen's words. Vaella's leadership was steady and focused, her decisions driven by both compassion and strategic acumen.

As the meeting drew to a close, Vaella dismissed the council with a firm yet gracious nod. "Thank you all for your insights and dedication. We will face these challenges together and emerge stronger."

The council members rose and began to file out, their murmurs a mix of concern and determination. Vaella watched them go, her mind already turning to the next steps.

"Grand Maester Orwyle," she called softly, her voice carrying across the chamber. "Please stay. I wish to speak with you."

The Grand Maester, a figure of wisdom and experience, approached her with a respectful bow. "Of course, Your Grace. How may I assist you?"

Vaella gestured for him to take a seat, her expression thoughtful. "I wish to discuss the state of our reserves and the overall well-being of our people in more detail. The coming winter poses a significant threat, and I want to ensure we are fully prepared."

Orwyle nodded, his eyes reflecting the depth of his knowledge. "Indeed, Your Grace. The reserves are currently stable, but the prolonged blockade and the strain of supporting the dragons have taken their toll. We must continue to seek additional sources of food and supplies."

Vaella leaned forward, her voice earnest. "What of the morale of the people? Are they growing restless?"

The Grand Maester sighed softly. "There are murmurs of discontent, as there always are in times of hardship. But your efforts to provide for them and ensure their needs are met have been well-received. The people look to you for guidance and strength."

Vaella felt a surge of determination. "We must continue to show them that we care, that their well-being is our priority. The loyalty of the people is our greatest asset."

Orwyle smiled, a rare expression of warmth. "You have a good heart, Your Grace. The people see that, and it inspires them. As long as we remain vigilant and proactive, we will weather this storm."

Vaella nodded, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. "Thank you, Grand Maester. Your counsel is invaluable."

As Grand Maester Orwyle prepared to leave, Vaella raised a hand to stop him. Her expression, usually so composed and regal, was tinged with vulnerability.

"Grand Maester, one more thing," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I believe I might be with child again. I need your discretion in this matter."

Orwyle’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he quickly masked it with a look of concern and respect. "Of course, Your Grace. I will come to examine your condition this evening. You have my word that this will remain between us."

Vaella nodded, her expression grateful. "Thank you, Grand Maester. Your support means more than you know."

With a final bow, Orwyle left the chamber, leaving Vaella to her thoughts. She placed a hand gently on her abdomen, a mix of hope and anxiety swirling within her. The prospect of another child was both a blessing and a challenge in these uncertain times.

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