#ancestry feats
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honourablejester · 4 months ago
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A random collection of my favourite PF2e (legacy and remastered) ancestry feats:
Collapse (Skeleton). As a reaction of suffering a crit, you can make like a cartoon xylophone skeleton and collapse into a pile of bones instead, taking normal damage and being unable to act except to reform into a standing skeleton again. This is such a cartoon move, and I love it.
Kneecap (Goblin). This may be the short person spite over here, but I just love little guys kneecapping bigger guys to slow them down. Everybody’s shorter than you when they’re on the floor!
Innocuous, Easily Dismissed (Halfling). You know that thing in Assassin’s Creed where you ‘blend into a crowd’ and despite the fact that you’re still a white-clad hooded assassin in broad daylight, the guards suddenly don’t see you? Halflings are good at that. They good at looking innocent and they’re good at blending into the background, and I love that about them.
Forlorn (Elf). “Watching your friends age and die fills you with moroseness that protects you against harmful emotions.” Comparative mortality makes some elves so emo that they’re resistant to artificial influences on their emotions. Which. You do you, guys!
Right Hand Blood (Gnoll). Borrowing from the myths of your people, you can use blood from your right side to aid medicine checks, but blood from your left side causes them to auto-fail. I just. I love the mythology of this. The sense of a living, embodied folklore.
Plague Sniffer (Ratfolk). If you’re a long-nosed rat, you can smell disease. No notes, I just love this. A lot of the ratfolk feats, are they useful, maybe not, but they really do fulfil the fantasy of playing a rat.
Gaping Flesh (Fleshwarp). If you came to the Fleshwarp for body horror, this is the feat for you! If someone hits you, the sight of your wound yawning open appalls and sickens them. It’s a great little vengeful ‘honey I have seen so much worse’ sort of vibe. Although all the Fleshwarp feats are so fun and lovecraftian. I adore them so much.
Crystal Luminescence (Kashrishi). First thing to know about me, I like shiny things. The little psychic crystal unicorn people (best. ancestry. ever) can make their crystal horns go glowy, and it’s everything my tiny childhood unicorn-loving self could want.
In a similar vein, Halo (Nephilim). Exactly what it says on the tin! You get a halo that sheds light. I want it. This is why I love Crown of Stars in 5e. I just want shiny things on my head!
Then, to finish up, if I’m picking a favourite dwarven feat … I am tempted by Echoes in Stone (tremorsense) and Defy the Darkness (you think you can make the darkness magical and have it beat me? I’m a dwarf, sugarplum. Try again), but I think the award for most dwarfy dwarven feat has to go to Dwarven Doughtiness. Yes, the magic of stone and all that, but at the base of everything, dwarves are just too stubborn to stay scared, and I love that about them.
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vajrapoet · 1 year ago
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Pilandokan are diminutive mouse deer people descended from the Almighty Trickster of Akai history, Pilandok. Small and slender in stature, none of them reaching taller than 5'5". PILANDOKAN are the mousedeer Folk that you can play as in Gubat Banwa! Art by @lntpblk
Pilandok was so great that he once became a sultan of an entire kingdom, without the actual sultan even knowing! As punishment, Pilandok was cut up into a thousand pieces, and that was how the deerfolk were born. Of course, Pilandok is still alive. If one asked Pilandok why he performed the deed, he would reply: “is there anything funnier than a king?”
Folk came in late in Gubat Banwa (initially we just had 'humans' because our main inspo, FFT, were mostly humans and also bc we were tired of being cast as the animalfolk in more popular fantasy settings) but I'm an Ivalice slut so I had to put in numerous other Folk
Check out Gubat Banwa! Our KS for a pretty as fuck hardcover is coming soon
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kimludcom · 4 months ago
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Makhadzi Entertainment - We Are One [Heritage Day] (Official Music Video) feat. Dr Skaro
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astrojulia · 1 month ago
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Your type of Magic
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Navigation:   Masterlist✦Ask Rules✦Feedback Tips
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Lilith in the 1st House
Universal and Motivational Magic
This placement embodies the essence of all other houses, making its magic incredibly versatile. However, its power hinges entirely on personal motivation and emotional investment. If the individual is apathetic or lacks enthusiasm, the magic remains dormant, unable to manifest. When emotionally engaged and motivated, those with Lilith in the 1st House can achieve extraordinary feats, channeling their boundless energy into transformative outcomes. The primary obstacle is a tendency toward discouragement and spiritual procrastination. If doubt or inertia sets in, it can be challenging to harness their potential fully.
Lilith in the 2nd House
Magic of Building and Prosperity
This placement is rooted in creation, growth, and abundance. Lilith in the 2nd House thrives on constructive practices and struggles with destructive or negative energy, such as curses or hexes. Its focus is on stability, sustainability, and nurturing prosperity. Ideal for spells and rituals related to wealth, long-term love, and enduring success. It excels in creating solid foundations and fostering stability in all aspects of life. A need for recognition can sometimes hinder collaborative efforts. Working in the shadow of others or within groups may dilute this house’s potency, so this Lilith works alone or is the leader of the group.
Lilith in the 3rd House
Visionary and Word Magic
This placement connects strongly with the ethereal realms of mediumship, oracle reading, and dream work. The magic of the 3rd House lies in its ability to perceive beyond the mundane, uncovering hidden truths. However, it has limited influence on direct magical interference or physical manifestations. Prophecies, revealing dreams, and channeling spiritual insights are the cornerstones of this house. Its intuitive understanding of symbols and messages is unparalleled. Words hold immense power here. When spoken in anger, they can cause significant harm, often leading to regret. Careful control over communication is vital to avoid unintentional destruction.
Lilith in the 4th House
Ancestral and Intuitive Magic
Deeply tied to emotional well-being and family roots, this placement flourishes in environments of peace and harmony. Its magic is intuitive, nurtured by connection to one’s ancestry and inner tranquility. Lunar cycles amplify its potency, allowing self-taught rituals to be highly effective. Considered one of the most powerful placements, Lilith in the 4th House offers unparalleled capacity for spiritual growth and magical mastery. Practices performed in alignment with lunar energy yield exceptional results. Negative environments, such as those involving mistreatment or humiliation, can severely hinder spiritual growth. If practices are learned in a hostile context, they may become blocked, rendering the tools unusable. Respectful and nurturing settings are crucial for unlocking the full potential of this placement. If you learn a spell in a toxic environment where you feel ridiculed, your energy may reject that knowledge permanently, reinforcing the importance of seeking respectful teachers and sacred spaces.
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Lilith in the 5th House
Magic of Luck and Optimism
This placement radiates joy and prosperity, particularly when helping others overcome challenges. It channels creativity and enthusiasm, making it a beacon of hope for those in need. Highly effective for spells that boost businesses, attract luck, or improve self-esteem. Its magic often brings remarkable success to others. Paradoxically, while this house blesses others with fortune, individuals with Lilith in the 5th House may struggle to manifest prosperity or happiness for themselves. Emotional lows or lack of motivation can weaken their magic entirely. A practitioner may help a business flourish with a prosperity spell but find it difficult to stabilize their own finances or emotional well-being. Avoid cluttered, overly symbolic spaces, which may disperse energy. Opt for a clean, minimalist environment to focus your intentions. Techniques like Reiki, which emphasize pure energy transmission, harmonize exceptionally well with this placement.
Lilith in the 6th House
Healing Magic and Herbal Power
This placement excels in health and healing practices, with a natural affinity for alternative medicine, such as herbal remedies, energy baths, and flower essences. Its magic is restorative and deeply connected to physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being. Healing and renewal are the hallmarks of this house. Rituals aimed at recovery—whether physical, emotional, or spiritual—are profoundly effective, making this placement a natural healer. A tendency toward perfectionism can create rigidity, making it difficult to adapt to new methods or ideas. Additionally, the direct and often critical approach of this placement may inadvertently alienate or harm more sensitive individuals, such as those with Lilith in the 4th House. Dive deeply into the study of herbal medicine and energy work, as these tools amplify your magic. Be mindful of your tone and approach, especially when interacting with others, to maintain harmony and avoid blocking your own energies.
Lilith in the 7th House
Magic of Love and Reconciliation
Lilith's influence in this house enhances the ability to create, strengthen, and heal emotional bonds. It grants a profound understanding of relationships and the power to cultivate harmony in personal connections. This placement gives the individual the energy of a “spiritual Cupid,” making them a powerful force in love spells, sweetenings, bindings, and reconciliation rituals. People with Lilith in the 7th House are also highly skilled at leading spiritual groups, teaching with great patience and empathy. Their natural charisma allows them to guide others toward healing and emotional connection. There is an inherent emotional vulnerability when it comes to those they love. Despite their spiritual power, they may struggle to defend themselves against loved ones, often hesitating to use protective magic. This can leave them open to emotional or relational abuse, especially if boundaries are not established. While you have the gift to heal and strengthen relationships, be mindful of imbalances or toxic patterns in those around you. Establish and maintain healthy emotional boundaries, ensuring your talents for union and reconciliation are not exploited or used against you.
Lilith in the 8th House
Shadow Magic and the Power of Transformation
Lilith in the 8th House connects deeply with hidden forces, transformation, and the cycles of life, death, and rebirth. This placement is highly potent, but requires a disciplined approach rooted in secrecy. The strength of this energy is most effective when kept confidential, as discretion and privacy are crucial to success. Lilith in the 8th House possesses the power to perform intense, precise magical work. It excels in destruction of obstacles, protection, and, when necessary, revenge. Its energy is ideally suited for transmuting difficult situations, transforming them into opportunities for growth and renewal. A significant emotional weight accompanies this placement, particularly when attempting to assist loved ones, like family members, through transformative processes. The darker energies generated by this work can turn against the practitioner if not carefully channeled, potentially causing harm if the magical intentions are not pure. Work in clean, isolated spaces free from distractions, as external energy can interfere with the potency of your magic. Cultivate balance through regular meditation and purification rituals to maintain the clarity and power of your work. Avoid sharing your practices with others, as secrecy preserves the effectiveness of your spells.
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Lilith in the 9th House
Skepticism and the Search for Faith
Lilith's presence here brings a tendency toward skepticism, particularly toward abstract beliefs or faith-based practices. This can make it challenging to embrace the more mystical aspects of magic that require faith. Despite this skepticism, Lilith in the 9th House is capable of integrating rationality with spiritual practice. These individuals are often drawn to practices that blend science with magic, using logic and methodical approaches to support their magical work. This grounded approach makes them skilled at finding practical applications for spiritual knowledge. A strong disbelief in their own spiritual abilities can be a significant barrier. Individuals with this placement tend to question their practices and abilities, which can hinder the flow of energy and the effectiveness of their work. This constant self-doubt can prevent them from fully embracing their magical potential. To overcome skepticism, seek connection with a trusted spiritual figure—whether a deity, guide, or entity—that inspires belief. Working in a group or with mentors can provide a supportive structure that reinforces faith and strengthens confidence in your magical abilities. Take time to appreciate small signs of spiritual growth and practice patience, allowing faith to build gradually over time.
Lilith in the 10th House
Life Mission and the Power of Direction
Lilith in the 10th House is intimately connected to a clear sense of life’s purpose and the ability to lead others toward their own goals. This placement grants the energy needed to manifest destiny, providing individuals with the insight and determination to guide themselves and others along a meaningful path. This placement allows individuals to open doors and create lasting changes, especially when they are focused on personal fulfillment and success. They have a natural talent for working magic tied to career goals, public recognition, and long-term prosperity. This Lilith is one of a few who can read their own destiny from their cards or other divination method. Lilith in the 10th House requires a clear sense of purpose to work effectively. Spells and magical work that lack a defined goal or focus tend to be less successful. This placement is most potent when working with individuals who are equally committed to their own path and who share a clear sense of direction. Focus your efforts on helping those who demonstrate commitment and clarity about their goals. Use your magical talents to create lasting transformations, such as opening doors to prosperity, career growth, and family stability. Remember to take moments of disconnection from external pressures to recharge and maintain your sense of purpose.
Lilith in the 11th House
Nocturnal Energy and Social Magic
Lilith in the 11th House is most active at night, with its energy waning during the day. Practitioners with this placement should embrace nocturnal work to harness its full potential. It thrives in environments where material connection is emphasized, making it essential to stay grounded—preferably barefoot—when working. This placement is ideal for "popular magic," which focuses on accessible and immediate solutions such as teas, prayers, or simple rituals. Its power is in its practicality, with quick and effective works yielding the best results. While popularity is an important aspect of this placement, it’s essential to work on tolerance toward criticism and external attacks. Those with Lilith in the 11th House may find themselves vulnerable to public scrutiny, making it crucial to develop resilience in the face of negative feedback.
Lilith in the 12th House
Full Spirituality and Unseen Forces
Lilith in the 12th House represents the full spectrum of spiritual energy, embodying both the giving and receiving of divine power. This placement offers immense versatility in magical practice, allowing for work with a variety of spiritual tools, from esoteric texts to sacred Psalms. Highly protected from spiritual attacks, individuals with Lilith in the 12th House are shielded by constant and powerful spiritual energy. Their magic is multifaceted, capable of adapting to many forms and situations. Excessive analysis and caution can prolong the effectiveness of spells. Individuals with this placement may overthink their practices, which can delay results and hinder the flow of energy needed for their work. Focus on balancing the energetic flow of giving and receiving, cultivating a deeper emotional or spiritual connection to your work. Avoid over-analyzing and instead trust the natural flow of energy. Keep your spiritual practices flexible and adaptive, drawing on a variety of elements and tools as needed.
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loafy-loaf · 2 years ago
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btw she can breathe lightning
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Xinyu dressed a bit more formally
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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year ago
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Bound to Apologise
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Summary: Aemond upsets his wife and forms a punishment fit for a Prince, feat. subby!Aemond | Word Count: 5.6k | Warnings below the cut~
Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist
Warnings: subby!Aemond x wife!reader, p in v, oral (m receiving), use of a belt as bondage, orgasm denial, breeding kink I guess, Aemond blueballs Targaryen
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When one thinks of Aemond Targaryen, a few descriptors come to mind.
 Stoic, stiff, perhaps brazen on occasion and when the opportunity should present itself, he has quite the silver tongue. He is a man who is sure of himself in identity, fiercely proud of his Targaryen ancestry, his skills with the sword and his deep and well-founded knowledge of history and philosophy, a fact he rivals smugly against his older brother at any occasion he is able.
 It is not as if Aegon cares much for rivalries of the mind. No, Aegon’s knowledge that is worthy of bragging in his mind is that of the flesh, and he makes sure to flaunt such knowledge in Aemond’s face at any chance.
 That is until Aemond took a wife.
 It had been almost half a year since Aemond was wed to his sweet wife in the Sept. An arranged affair, of course, and the two had scarcely seen one another beforehand, so even now he remembered the way he held his hands behind his back, wound tight with nerves, wondering what kind of person she was. It felt wrong to be tied so intimately and indefinitely to another person without really truly knowing them.
 She had smiled sweetly on that day, kissed him softly once their vows were exchanged, a faint blush at her cheeks while standing before her now husband. The wife of Aemond Targaryen. It felt so final, and she could not help the fluttering in her stomach.
 Aemond on the other hand had barely cracked a smile, simply kissed her, as he was duty-bound to do, and said his vows. She was pretty, yes. But he almost felt bad. What did this woman, illuminated so softly by the warm rays of light, have to gain by marriage to someone she surely found repulsive? Aemond hadn’t missed the various hushed conversations his mother had with Otto, the door cracked slightly ajar.
 He had a reputation amongst the ladies. Some desired him purely for his title and placing their family name on a high podium, their future children into the bargain. Some were repulsed by his fiery temper, those long, hard looks he gave everyone. And perhaps most notably, they were frightened of the One-Eyed Prince, on this moniker alone. ‘Aemond One-Eye would never find a wife’.
 Despite the incident being several years ago, it still raised its ugly head every now and then, in the form of self-consciousness, hushed female whispers and side-glances throughout the Keep. Most Lords and Ladies appreciated his skills from afar, never treading that delicate path in between that would bring them closer to him, which is precisely why it was difficult to even court a woman. Nevermind marriage.
 And yet, when his new wife had looked upon him at their wedding feast, she’d given him a sweet smile, looked deeply into his good eye and showed no signs of repulsion. It confused him for a moment. Was she making a mockery of him? By pretending not to be afraid or repelled by him on purpose? Hiding what she truly felt inside. Holding the bile in her throat at the thought of consummation? He blamed her flush on her face on the two cups of wine she had consumed.
 He was immensely relieved to have been proven wrong.
 Once the chamber doors were closed, she was clearly nervous, as any young maiden would be on her wedding night. With every aching second she removed the pins from her hair, Aemond stood before the fireplace, his heart hammering in his chest with nerves. He didn’t want to have to bare his soul to her. He didn’t know her. And the thought of forcing such a delicate little thing to gaze upon his affliction, watching her face contort into one of disgust, was eating away at his insides, his insecurities feeding on the buzz of the wine.
 She looked so pure and gentle in her off-white, thin chemise, leaving extremely little to the imagination. And with her hair down, waved from the braids, she looked positively mythical.
 Aemond swallowed and began to unclasp his doublet. She must have seen his true feelings beneath his poorly-hidden expression, because she’d stopped before him, a small hand laid delicately on his arm. A silent confirmation, that she was just as nervous as he was.
 “I do not wish to frighten you, my lady”
 Her heart could have broken, but instead it merely shuddered with his words.
 “Do you believe you frighten me?” she asked.
 Aemond’s silence had confirmed it.
 “You are my husband. And I, your wife. You may show me as much of yourself as you deem comfortable and I will not judge”
 Though brief, her comforting words gave him the confidence to consummate their marriage. At first it was clumsy, the way their lips had pressed against one another, and the clamouring at her body, laid entirely bare for him to feast upon. As with any wedding night, there was some discomfort, both for her and him, but for different reasons.
 But he was gentle, which surprised her and elated her in equal measure. And the sting of the loss of the maidenhead gave way to blooming pleasure, alongside something else. Perhaps a closeness that neither of them expected to have after just a few hours of knowing one another. But she hadn’t shied away from him, as he expected her to. On occasion during the act, she held his face so softly he trembled, struggling to fathom that this woman wanted him.
 They had left it only an hour before he was inside her again, where he now found sanctuary in her acceptance of him.
 In the moons that had passed since then, she had been his haven. His escape. She was so good to him, accepting of his desire to take his time in showing himself to her.
 Three moons after their wedding night, he finally pulls off his eyepatch, after a particularly long evening of lovemaking. She was laid next to him, the bed sheets tucked around her chest. Her lips parted when she saw what he’d been hiding underneath his eyepatch all this time, and she felt an undeniable closeness to him that was not there before.
 His scar felt raised beneath the gentleness of her fingers, but it was a look of sheer wonder, watching the way the sapphire that replaced his eye adopted the amber glow of the candles.
 Aemond felt his heart thunder and his cock get hard, when all she asked was for him to fuck her again.
 And he did with a new-found enthusiasm, a warm feeling blossomed in his chest, holding her form beneath him and fucking her relentlessly into the mattress, so hard that the bedframe struggled. He moaned loudly, giving her his seed and praying that it took, so that he could see his precious wife grow round with his child.
 It took him an entire moon to figure out that he not only respected her, but had come to love her.
 His wife, shy and timid perhaps at first, had become rather a force to be reckoned with. Their intimacy with one another had awakened something not only in her, but in him as well. At first, he delighted in having power and dominance over her, being quite a lot taller and broad, which he was wholly proud to have on display in the comfort of their chambers. He loved every little one of her whines and moans, drawing peak after devastating peak from her until she quivered in his touch.
 It had become a nightly routine. Sometimes several times in one night.
 Who would have thought that Aemond Targaryen, every now and then, enjoyed having such power taken away sometimes.
 It had started innocently enough. After so many moons being married and proving their love to one another every night, his sweet wife had sought for some variety and instead had clambered on top of him and sank on his cock, guiding the pace herself. Her hands steadied on his chest for leverage, her backside smacking against his thighs with every rough thrust of herself onto him.
 Alongside the dizzying feeling of watching his cock disappear into her cunt over and over, reaching new places in this new position, he found being held down exhilarating. Dare he say, even pleasurable. It made something wind tight as a bowstring in his gut.
 It seemed like she noticed this, as a lazy smirk graced her face.
 Ever since then they had experimented with that sensation. The feeling of one partner having full control, being held down, even tied sometimes. It was something reserved solely for them, behind their chamber doors. In the morning, when they break their fast with his family, he is once again the stone-faced, stoic Aemond Targaryen.
 Although it does not stop her from shooting knowing grins in his direction on the odd occasion, which makes his cheeks go a very fair pink, the tips of his ears burn and his breeches get inexplicably tighter.
 He enjoys this new side to his wife. It was buried deep, but now that he sees it, it never fails to surprise him.
 Which brings him to this moment. The moment when he knows he has said or done something to irk her.
 Her sister had arrived at the Red Keep alongside her father to visit her for a few days. Unlike his dear wife, her sister was still young and unmarried, and unbearably innocent. As soon as Aegon had laid his eyes on her little sister, his eyes gleamed with mischief, as if he’d seen a shiny new version of his favourite toy, but one that was actually available.
 He wasn’t even deterred by the firm look she’d given him.
 She and her sister walked arm in arm to the main hall, where they would dine all together that evening. Her sister spoke excitedly, happy to be brought to the Red Keep for the first time and to be reunited with her beloved eldest sibling.
 Aemond and Aegon were chatting idly at the table when they’d arrived, her sister went to one side of the table to be sat next to their father. The two brothers, who usually were not so well-acquainted and chatting in such a friendly manner, were so engrossed in their conversation and their cups, that they barely acknowledged her presence.
 All the better that Aemond’s back was to her as well.
 “She is a lovely looking girl, but it is a shame she is so terribly dim-witted” Aegon chuckled, “A family trait, I presume?”
 Aemond, dizzy from the effects of his wine, chuckled.
 “Perhaps”
 She’d bitten her cheek in frustration. Was he so deep in his cups that he actually found Aegon funny? Not only that, but had humoured him in insulting not only her sister’s intelligence, but his own wife’s as well.
 She pulled her chair out beside him loudly, and Aemond went red and jumped in surprise, dread prickled all over his skin. She gave him a mischievous, knowing smile as she sat, “Husband” is all she greeted him with.
 Aegon, who found the entire situation hilarious, had left him with that and as Aemond took his seat next to his wife, straight-backed and instantly sober, he bit his lips several times throughout the evening. She didn’t spare him a single word nor glance, unless he spoke to her directly, in which she forced a pleasant enough smile to her face and gave him one word answers. Playing the pliant little wife, while at the same time letting him know that he would not get off so easily.
 She thought, once, that she may have taken her retribution a bit too far. But it was fun if nothing else, to watch how frustrated Aemond got.
 She did not lay with him that night, nor the night after. Nor the night after that.
 When her sister and father departed King’s Landing, he thought this might be the reprieve. But he was wrong.
 It had been a full week since he had touched his wife intimately, not because he didn’t want to, he’d tried a fair few times. But every time, she had dismissed him with that playful smirk, the same one she had when she’d clambered atop his lap for the first time. And though her outfits and mannerisms remained the same as always, after being denied the pleasure of his flesh to hers for so long, every sway of her hips, every glint of her eyes and every movement of her hands had his breeches pathetically tight.
 She knew what she was doing as well, the little tease.
 He was aching. And it became too much. Not only did she deprive him of her sweet, tight cunny. She barely spoke to him. And the silence and barely-contained need to be inside her, was all too much to bear.
 She was in their chambers, sat before the fire, a large tome open in her lap and when she’d heard the chamber doors shut, her eyes had met that of an extremely pent up husband.
 But instead of greeting him, she bit back a smile and turned back to her book.
 That little-
 “Wife” he greeted through gritted teeth.
 “Husband”
 She didn’t fool him with the sweetness of her voice.
 “What are you doing?” he asked, half-desperate and half-irritated as he crossed the room to sit opposite her.
 “Reading, my love. So that I may grow to have acceptable intelligence”
 His nostrils flare in annoyance, and yet he can’t deny the way she acts has a profound effect on him, after a week of not being able to have her, he’s desperate for anything. Even just the brushing of her hand, he is convinced, would make him spill in his breeches.
 “You know as well as I that is not what I meant”
 She slowly closes the book, righting to stand in front of him, her eyes trickling over his form. She knows him well now. Knows how underneath this cold exterior he offers up to her, is a desperate man underneath, yearning for a taste of her affections. His body sparks up at her hungry eyes over him.
 “Then I do not know what you mean, husband” she replies, barely able to stop the spread of her smile, “You shall have to elaborate”
 His hands form tight fists. She’s right there, ripe for the taking, his sweet wife. How easy would it be to sling her over his shoulder and take her right there on the bed, still dressed in her finery, with her skirts rucked up over her hips.
 “I mean-” he starts, “-you and I have not laid together for the better part of a week”
 She cocks her head, “Oh? Is that so?” she answers sweetly, “Forgive me, I hadn’t noticed”
 He’s stunned into a sort of shocked silence, mouth slightly open, but without the headspace to form a reply. His wife pretended to busy herself with other things, placing the book back and dusting the covers, something she knew would get him riled up.
 “What is this game, wife”
 When she turns to him with that faux-innocence smile on her face, unable to hide how amused she is at how outwardly her husband is showing his frustration, Aemond can feel his limbs go numb.
 “I do not believe you are in any position to accuse me of anything, husband” she counters, crossing the room in deliberately small steps, “In fact, I do believe I am owed an apology of sorts”
 Her brow twitches slightly. She knows. She knows she has him exactly where she wants him.
 As much as he tries to ignore the way her attitude makes his breeches get tighter, all of his blood goes straight below his waistline.
 “But I can see, in your true Targaryen male nature, that you will not apologise…with words that is” she says, a wider smile gracing her face. An almost mischievous one.
 Aemond swallows thickly.
 He clears his throat, blinking a few times at what she just said, “Perhaps…you might enlighten me on how I can make amends”
 Got you.
 “Give me your belt” she instructs.
 It’s borderline pathetic, the speed in which he tries to unbuckle it from his doublet and his fingers fumble with the silver, the embarrassment evident in the way it clinks clumsily. He pulls it through the loops and extends the leather towards his wife. She lets his hand hang there for a moment, as if to extend his internal torment, before she takes it, her fingers slipping over the roughened edges.
 “Take off your clothes, leave your breeches on” her voice is clipped and deadly serious, “then get on the bed”
 She watched from the foot of the bed as he did, twisting the belt in her hands as she regarded him. Saw the way his breath had hitched as she instructed him to do something and the way his pupils swallowed the violet of his eye. He was desperate. And the longer she went without saying or doing anything, the more the excitement and anticipation was starting to build in his core.
 “My dear husband” she says, still fully clothed but clambering onto the bed beside him, “You have wronged me in a manner most unbefitting”
 Her voice was low, the same way it would be when they were alone together, coupling.
 Gently she pulls both his wrists together, tying them first before raising them to the bed frame, sliding the leather through the buckle and pulling his skin flush to it. She pulls on it a few times, to make sure it is secure. Smiling down at him when she confirms he is not able to move.
 His chest moves hurriedly, a warm, fluttering expectancy erupts in his gut.
 “And all you have been able to think about is our coupling, or rather lack of” she smirks, pulling a large pin from her hair so it falls around her shoulders. Looking up at his dear wife from this angle, in this position, will never cease to be thrilling.
 Her small fingers slide under his eyepatch, depositing it on the bedside, so that she may see all of him.
 He would never ever reveal beyond their chambers how he enjoys to see her, eyes half-shut looking down at him, exerting her own version of dominance over him. And he was eternally grateful that she never told a soul either. It would embarrass him beyond measure. He could only stand to be embarrassed in front of her.
 Even though she was very much in charge, she did so in her own feminine way. Used her body differently, her words even.
 He doesn’t think he will ever tire of it.
 “Would you like to fuck me, husband” she asks low, nudging his knees apart so that she can kneel between them. It doesn’t fail to set his blood alight, the way she says such vulgar things…and make it sound so right.
 As her fingers begin to undo his breeches, his hips move and so do his hands against the bed frame. It sets that grin on her face again.
 “Yes, I do…I have missed you”
 Her fingers start to peel his breeches from his hips, exposing the pale skin underneath, and he almost sighs in relief to feel her soft hands on his bare skin.
 She cocks her head, looking at him, “What makes you think I will let you fuck me?”
 A sort of dread…disappointment  pools in his stomach, but alongside that, arousal. He cannot tell if she is serious or merely teasing him, and it is the in-between of not knowing that makes his head feel as if there is cotton stuffed into it instead of thoughts.
 “Fucking is a reward” she starts, “and you have not been good”
 Once his breeches are off, or at least down to his toned thighs, enough where she can see his manhood, aching and swollen against his taut abdomen, hardened from his years of training with the sword. The tip is flushed, the same colour as his lips, with a milky arousal leaking from it. She is sure that with one touch, he could simply come undone, and it makes her smirk wickedly.
 “I will forgive you…on one condition”
 Gods, how badly he wants her to just touch him already. With his cock now exposed to them both, her hands so close, it’s borderline unbearable to be teased like this.
 “Anything, please…”
 A flush blossoms on her cheeks. She always did like it when he begged.
 “You must not peak, until I say”
 Aemond almost goes bright red. This is territory that has not been tread before. And yet, he can’t deny the excitement it sends through him, the way the air is instantly knocked out of his lungs, and how his hands tug slightly against the belt.
 He outright moans as her small hand encircles his cock, giving a few languid pumps, squeezing when she gets to the tip, brushing her thumb over the sensitive slit. Now that she has given her order, her demand, all he can seem to think about is his peak, and how hard he is concentrating to not do it too soon.
 “You seem more sensitive than usual, husband” she coos, her other hand placed on his thigh, only barely squeezing, “have you missed me that much?”
 “Yes…” he responds through slightly gritted teeth, unable to take the breathiness out of his tone.
 “Hm” she hums, dipping her head to his waistline, making him suck in a quiet breath, “Let us see if you can be good then”
 She flatters her tongue against the underside of his length, dragging up achingly slow to the slit, her hand still applying pressure as she makes her way up. When she gets to the slit, her eyes meet her husband's.
 There's that damn smile again.
 Aemond shudders a breath, looking into her eyes while she has his cock on her tongue is only spurring him on, so he shuts his eyes, tipping his head back against the pillows. His hands tug at the belt. Wanting morning more than to just run his fingers through her hair.
 "Look at me" she orders.
 When he does, his jaw slackens, cheeks warm as her hot mouth envelops him entirely. Pushing down to take more of him, her hand strokes whatever else she cannot fit. Aemond watches her take him with every slow bob of her head, pushing his cock against her hot throat, warm, wet and inviting.
 If he is good, he may get something else.
 From this angle, her breasts are dangerously close to spilling from her dress, and he watches them move as she continues to suck him, her tongue curled up to press against the prominent vein on the underside. After a week of not having him, she relishes the taste of him. How he smells faintly of sweat and leather, and how badly she wants more of it.
 She plunges her mouth down further, til her lips are against the base and Aemond moans out loudly. His tip lodges the back of her throat, and while well endowed, she has learned to take him as deep as she can, until she softly gags, tightening her throat around him.
 She is testing him. Seeing how far she can push him as she pleasures him with a renewed vigour, humming around him, sending little jolts of pleasure up his spine.
 It was his biggest weakness, taking him into her mouth. And to be so clearly pleased to do it as well. Merely watching the way his length disappears between her plush lips is nothing short of heavenly.
 He bets her cunny is wet from this alone.
 It very nearly makes him peak, those sparks are there most certainly. Especially the way her throat contracts around him.
 But he holds back the reins. For now.
 She pulls off him with a soft, wet pop, making a show of licking her lips to taste his precum.
 "You are blushing, my love" she says, and he knows even without looking she is smirking again.
 "Please…" he murmurs, "...do not tease me any longer"
 She cocks her head again, pretending to not know what he means.
 "Is my mouth inadequate?"
 He shakes his head quickly, feeling his hair begin to stick to his nape with the effort of holding back his peak.
 "No-no…I just need you"
 "Need what" she grins, moving to straddle him.
 Aemond's eye widens here. Her dress is fanned out, and underneath he feels her bare form pressed against his aching cock.
 The vixen had not had small clothes on this entire time.
 And after using her mouth to pleasure him, she was soaked.
 It was most like her. She always did everything with purpose. Always one step ahead.
 She smiles when she sees it click in his mind and she moves her hips, dragging her slick over his length, making his eye flutter.
 "Say it"
 He swallows, tugging against the belt. He half thinks of requesting to touch her. But he knows she would not allow it.
 "I need to be inside you"
 She raises her eyebrows.
 "Please" he finishes.
 She pulls the front of her dress up, to give him a good view of her wet cunny, spreading her slick over him and he almost moans at just that. It's a sight to behold. The feeling…even more indescribable.
 "My poor, silly husband" she coos, taking his length in her hand, using her palm to coat the entirety with her arousal, "...you came here to say something. Now is the time"
 She raises her hips, his tip not even touching her, but the anticipation of it is too much. Aemond, almost subconsciously, bucks his hips up. Only to be met with her pushing him back down.
 "Stay still" she says firmly, "or you will not fuck me at all"
 His chest moves quickly, clenching his fists, his whole body feeling unbearably hot.
 She waits, with that glint in her eye. She really would do it. She would clamber off him and not fuck him, just for the satisfaction that she knew he wanted her, and that it had been denied.
 "I…apologise…" he mutters quietly.
 She doesn't move.
 "For?"
 He grunts, frustrated. Too busy thinking of him sliding through her folds, nestled in her cunny.
 "For saying such things about you…"
 She tuts, with an amused grin, "We shall test your loyalty, husband. Remember…you need my permission"
 Whatever Aemond was going to say is stuck in his throat as she sinks on him, enveloping him entirely in her slick heat. She does it slowly, so that he might feel every inch of her, every ridge inside. And when her backside sits on his thighs, moving her hips side to side, his tip nudges her sweet spot, the curve of his long, delicious length finding it effortlessly.
 He has to briefly close his eye, not look at her, so that he doesn't get too overwhelmed. After a week of not having her, she feels so perfectly tight, so much so it feels as if her cunt is milking him already. He cannot get too tied up in the feeling, lest he lose her forgiveness.
 The sound he lets out when she begins to move is almost pained, one that feels like it takes all his strength from his muscles.
 He looks up at her, her hair cascading over her shoulders with every shallow thrust inside, with that tell-tale pink to her cheeks from the effort of it. He can feel her arousal weeping out of her, coating his length and smacking against the base, that alongside his barely-contained moans.
 Her hands trail up his bare torso and he can feel gooseflesh erupt in the path she leaves. Her soft palms trace the expanse of his chest, and she doesn’t miss the way his stomach muscles tense up as she hastens her pace while she touches him. It’s only when her fingers apply a feather-like touch against his nipples that she finally gets a breathy moan from him.
 It only adds more fuel to her fire.
 Every touch, as small as they are, with how pent up Aemond had been, is hurtling him towards that edge. He can feel every inch of her perfect insides, squeezing him as she nears even herself. His stomach does flips, a familiar flutter getting stronger inside.
 “Please…wife…” she barely manages to say.
 She smiles, her chest moving quickly with the effort of their lovemaking. Her thighs ache in the most wonderful way, her cunt stretching around his girth, the tip kissing her end, filling her so deliciously.
 “Please what”
 “I want to touch you…please” he begs, his fists still tight and pressed against the bed frame.
 He takes a much needed breath when she slows down, merely circling her hips against his pelvis instead.
 “Are you close, my love?” she asks sweetly, leaning up to grasp the belt in one hand.
 Aemond nods, not trusting his own voice, lest it betray the inner turmoil inside. But she sees it. She doesn’t miss a thing.
 She cocks her head, half of her wants to reprimand him for not using his words to reply to her. But the other half feels how his cock throbs inside her, aching for completion, to paint her walls with his spend.
 “Very well” she smirks, undoing his bondage, “but you may only touch me here”
 She guides his now free hands to her clothed hips, keeping hers on top to make it clear how serious she is. Even now, merely touching her, through clothes it doesn't matter, it’s like some kind of torture.
 He grabs her hips tightly and backs himself up against the pillow in a half-sitting position, causing his length to press up inside her, he doesn’t miss the small gasp she emits. She’s close as well, he can tell.
 He fucks up into her with renewed passion, and her head tilts back, her lips parted only slightly to allow her quiet but wanton moans to slip out. Her sounds are like a reward. But he knows he is still denied the greatest one of all. One that seems more and more difficult to hold back the tighter she clenches around him, her fingers digging into the flesh of his wrists. There was something exciting about her being fully clothes while he fucked her. It almost felt forbidden. But exciting all the same.
 He can feel her slowly losing her resolve as he pounds harshly into her, as if he is letting out all his frustrations.
 “-Fuck…Aemond…” she breathes, “-Don’t stop-”
 His breath comes in hurried pants, wanting her to feel good but at the same time holding himself back. He can feel the pressure inside, fit to burst at any moment.
 “My perfect wife…”
 “-Aemond, I’m close-”
 She pulls up the front of her dress, her small slender fingers diving between her legs to apply pressure to her pearl, and she inadvertently tightens around him at the combined pleasure.
 He is not sure if he can last much longer. Forgiveness be damned, he wants to see his spend leak from her.
 “My love, I-”
 She looks down at him, a lazy, fucked-out smile on her face, her hair sticking slightly to her forehead.
 “-Yes, husband…fuck your heir into me…”
 His eye widens at the vulgarity, but his throat tightens at the challenge and he slams so deep inside her with a shocking collection of desperate thrusts. She continues to circle her slick over her bud until the buzz floods into her limbs with a choked cry, her body trembling in the bruising hold he has of her hips.
 He fucks her all the way through it, now that he has been given the permission he so desired, he craves it like hunger. It feels like it takes everything out of him, the wind surely knocked from his lungs, as he finally stills inside her, feeling the warm, familiar flood of his spend deep against her womb, completely emptying himself until he aches.
 Aemond never lets up on his grip, holding her tightly to ensure she has all of it, and he gives a few additional shallow thrusts that make her cry out, hoping his seed will take and she will grow round with child for him. The thought alone makes him want to keep her in their chambers all day if he has to.
 Their eyes meet, the only sound is both of their breathing. Her own eyes flicker from his seeing one, to the sapphire, and a soft, contented smile, not the same mischievous one as earlier, makes its way to her face. It encourages him to do the same.
 “I could stay in your perfect cunt forever…” he breathes, his chest moving steadily.
 She hums a laugh. It is certainly something he would say.
 “Am I forgiven?” he asks, eyebrows moved only slightly, like he is expecting a witty response.
 His wife pretends to think, her fingers touched to her lips. And with his softening cock still nestled inside her, she leans forward to lay a tender kiss on her husband, her delicate, soft lips pressed so gently to his, in a manner that contradicts the sensuality of what they had just done.
 When she breaks, her forehead pressed against his and her hand cupping his face, she wrinkles her nose playfully.
 “I shall think about it”
 When one thinks of Aemond Targaryen, a few descriptors come to mind.
 Stoic, stiff, perhaps brazen on occasion. With not a soft bone in his body.
 Who would have thought, that sometimes, he enjoyed letting that persona slip, just for a moment.
 But only ever with her.
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nothingbutsweetwords · 6 months ago
Text
ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ
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ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ
"ɪ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ…"
Word count: 6,800.
Fandom: House of the Dragon.
Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.
DISTANCE — 9. Her.
At first, her days had been monotonous and boring. She rarely left her room, and even less so the castle. Immersed in a life that contrasted drastically with the ceaseless hustle and bustle of the former.
There, far from King's Landing, she found herself yearning for the life she had left behind. Closed off to life in Dragonstone, which was simpler, slower, and she could not find solace in it. She missed the Red Keep, which, although no longer felt like home, was at least familiar. The constant hum of activity and the presence of people she once took for granted seemed like a distant dream.
But most of all, she missed him. The void left by his absence was palpable, a constant ache that never quite went away. His absence haunted her thoughts, making the already stark contrast between her past and present even more pronounced. The memory of him was a specter that lingered at the edges of her mind, making the solitude of Dragonstone feel even more isolating.
She found refuge only in the company of her mother, her lady-in-waiting, and her brothers. Joffrey, still too young to ride his dragon, provided a source of innocent joy. Luke and Jace, when they weren’t engrossed in training or flying, shared special moments with her that briefly alleviated her loneliness.
She couldn't help but feel envious of how easily her brothers seemed to have adapted. She acknowledged that her difficulty was purely her own fault; she couldn't completely let go of her previous life. She deeply longed for her past, melancholic.
Her memories were vivid with the bustle of the city and the castle coming to life, the constant coming and going of servants and guards, the plush softness of her mattress, the warmness of his chest, the distant chimes of the Grand Sept’s bells, the depth of his gaze, and the calm sea, always present, gently caressing the bay and framing the view from her window, a soothing backdrop to her daily life.
Despite the dangers and politics that filled every corner, for her, King's Landing was synonymous with belonging and security; it was all she knew.
The transition to Dragonstone was jarring, an abrupt shift that left her reeling. The moment she set foot on the island, she was struck by its untamed beauty and raw, almost menacing energy. The rugged cliffs, the relentless waves crashing against the shore, and the brooding sky all seemed to echo a wildness she found unsettling and violent.
She allowed herself to explore, tentatively at first, then with growing curiosity. She marveled at the sea, how it changed hues under the shifting light—cleaner, deeper, more vibrant than the waters of Blackwater Bay. The night sky, free from the haze of city lights, seemed brighter. The nights, though lonelier, were filled with peace and reflection.
The energies of her ancestors seemed to throb in the draconic sculpted walls, as if the stones themselves narrated the history of her forebears. Every dark corridor, every imposing tower, every silent room vibrated with the presence of those who had walked there before her. In the library, filled with knowledge and more books than she had ever seen, words were inscribed on ancient scrolls and tomes, preserving tales of bygone eras. The cliffs that bordered the island and the smoking Dragonmont were full of arcane mysteries, revealing forgotten feats and silent tragedies. The caves, home to legendary dragons, were sanctuaries of life, brimming with a raw and primordial energy. The entire  castle emanated a glorious force and the island seemed to hum with a magnificent power, a testament to the grandeur and might of her ancestry.
The connection she felt with the place deepened, and as she accepted this, a newfound peace washed over her. King's Landing would always hold a piece of her heart, but Dragonstone had claimed her spirit, her soul, and her unwavering loyalty.
She began to understand that it wasn't merely a place of exile or a temporary stop, but her true home. It was a living bond with her real identity, and each time she thought of her previous life, the memory faded, becoming less significant.
Her initial apprehension transformed into a resounding devotion, turning Dragonstone into the most cherished landscape she had ever known.
Soon, Daemon's visits became more frequent, and no one was surprised when they witnessed the Valyrian wedding. The ceremony was nothing short of magnificent, with dragon banners fluttering in the wind and ancient rites performed under the watchful eyes of the gods. 
When both families united, it only brought more joy and harmony. She already loved her family deeply, but the female presence of Baela and Rhaena was something she profoundly thanked.
However, there was another emotion that had slowly evolved within her, refusing to fully resolve. While she may have stopped yearning for King's Landing, there remained someone there she could not forget. This lingering longing was a shadow in her heart, an echo of the past that refused to fade completely, keeping a part of her spirit tethered to the city she had left behind.
At first, she was engulfed in confusion, questioning if, that fateful night, perhaps, she had overstepped boundaries—if she had misinterpreted his silent signals and misunderstood his whispered words.
Then came a deep, shadowy sadness. The day she departed, she had not only lost her father and the place where she grew up, but also her closest and dearest friend. It felt as if she had left behind a piece of her soul along with her childhood.
In the wake of this sorrow, an all-consuming anger took hold. She had sacrificed so much, standing steadfastly by his side through his darkest hours, and yet, a simple visit in the wake of her father’s death felt like the least acknowledgment she deserved in return. The injustice of it all ignited a flame within her.
Every fiber of her being ached for a reunion with him, even as she dreaded the prospect of facing him again. Her dreams were haunted by visions of him riding Vhagar, soaring through the skies in search of her. She imagined letters arriving, responses to her heartfelt missives, yet such never came, and those dreams remained unfulfilled.
With the impending journey, as the anniversary of the King's coronation and his nameday approached, the inevitable reunion loomed on the horizon. It promised a family gathering that, though eagerly anticipated, also filled her with profound fear.
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Since moving to the island, her mother had constantly spoken of one particular thing. "She's restless," she would remark with a knowing glance, "because of you."
The islanders had told her mother: “She hasn’t been like this in years, not since she lost her rider.” At first, she paid little attention, not wanting to get her hopes up, attributing the rumors to local superstitions. But soon, she began to notice the signs.
Every morning upon waking, she would see her flying near her window, watching her with inquisitive eyes, as if trying to understand who this new inhabitant of the island was, attempting to discern the nature of her presence.
During her training sessions on the beach, she often felt a sudden, cool shadow sweep across her, and when she looked up, there she was, her powerful wings creating gusts that made her hair dance. Often accompanied by Vermithor, who kept watch from above but never descended.
At first, the proximity unnerved her, but over time, it became comforting, even familiar. There was something in those ancient eyes that awakened a sense of recognition, something she couldn’t explain.
One afternoon, after an intense training session with her brothers and and with her and Jace's seventeenth nameday celebration on the horizon, she found herself on the coast, basking in the splendor of the landscape.
The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the island in a warm, golden glow, a sharp difference to the usual gloomy days. 
That day, something within her roared with the same power that emanated from the creature. She felt an unspoken connection, a deep, primal awareness that the dragon was near, resonating through her very core.
As she stood by, her senses were suddenly alive with anticipation. She appeared, skimming so close to the water that the sea’s mist kissed her face, as though conveying a message from fate itself.
Her heart raced as she watched her turn in the air and come back, her wings slicing through the clouds. The dragon turned her head towards her, letting out a soft roar, almost like an invitation.
Without a second thought, she began to follow, feeling her steps guided by a higher force.
The dragon flew at a deliberate pace, allowing her to keep up before tucking its wings and disappearing into a cavern. She climbed the slopes of Dragonmont. The path was treacherous, with loose stones and narrow ledges. Fortunately, she wasn’t wearing a dress, making her ascent easier.
Anticipation and nervousness filled her. The tales resonated in her mind, and although she wasn’t sure how to proceed, an inner voice urged her to keep moving forward.
Reaching the mouth of the cave, she paused for a moment, catching her breath and taking in the view behind her. The island lay sprawled out beneath her, the setting sun casting long shadows and turning the sea into a shimmering expanse of molten gold. She turned back to the cave, the entrance dark and foreboding, yet filled with an irresistible allure.
Gathering her courage, she stepped into the dimness. The air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of earth and the faint, sulfurous hint of the volcano.
It was vaguely illuminated by the sunlight filtering through cracks in the ceiling, casting a beautiful dance of shadows on the walls.
Suddenly, she saw her. Lying on a bed of rocks and moss, silver scales glimmered like scattered stardust. A majestic being of contained strength. Her eyes, a deep blue, resembling two flawless sapphires, locked onto her with intense scrutiny. Upon sensing her presence, she greeted her arrival with a low rumble.
It was a truly imposing and beautiful sight. Her neck was long, and her size colossal. With caution and respect, she approached, mesmerized. 
She kept her hands visible, her movements slow, and her breaths gentle, hoping that she could sense the sincerity of her heart and the absence of fear. The dragon lifted her head, observing her with a calm yet watchful curiosity.
The moment felt eternal, a breath of time where they studied each other. She continued to close the distance and slowly extended her arm. “Māzīs” she whispered softly, the word carrying her hopes and intentions.
Silverwing approached, her movements both graceful and powerful, took a step forward, and after a few seconds, lowered her enormous head, aligning it with the extended hand. She raised it further, and when she finally touched her, she felt a connection, an invisible bond that seemed to pull her heart towards the being. Silverwing created a magical aura around both.
She knew, with firm certainty, that this was her destiny.
A warm glow enveloped them, and Silverwing emitted a low, guttural sound, a harmonious mix of purring and roaring. A shiver of recognition and wonder coursed through her as she realized that this moment was far greater than her own.
As her hands traced her warm body, she began to whisper: “Nyke kivio naejot rigle ao.” The dragon closed her eyes, enjoying her touch and voice. A bond of trust and understanding began to form and she felt a wave of emotions, primarily a sense of belonging.
With a huge smile on her face, she walked slowly around her, maintaining the contact, caressing her sides with gratitude and reverence. The scales gleamed, reflecting the filtered sunlight. At that moment, she felt that not even the moon could rival the dragon’s ethereal beauty.
Silverwing lowered herself, pressing her chest against the cavern floor, creating a natural platform for her to mount. With a sense of mutual trust and understanding, she accepted the silent invitation. Using the aid of the extended wing, she carefully climbed onto her back, feeling the powerful muscles beneath her and the unwavering strength of her new companion.
It was a bit challenging, as there was no saddle after so many years without a rider. With her legs spread on either side of her body, she stroked her back and grasped the horns that adorned her neck, securing her position.
“Sōvēs, Gēliotīkun” she said, the words carrying a blend of awe and command
The dragon responded with a soft grunt of assent, her wings slowly unfolding like enormous sails ready to catch the wind. They were a marvel in themselves, of impressive span, extending beyond what her eyes could grasp, with silver membranes shimmering with blue flecks at the slightest movement.
The cavern filled with the sound of wings beating and a powerful creaking beneath them, resonating like a gentle thunder. She held on tightly, feeling a tingle of anticipation.
With a sublime thrust, Silverwing flew out of the entrance and soared into the open sky.
The wind whipped against her face, but rather than being bothersome, it felt like a liberating caress. The horizon stretched before them in endless splendor. She let the adrenaline and exhilaration flood her veins.
From the heights, Dragonstone looked even more magnificent, all merging into a visual symphony that took her breath away. She felt part of something much larger than herself, and as they flew, every fear and doubt seemed to evaporate.
They left everything far behind. She leaned forward, feeling the cool breeze caress her face and play with her hair, undoing her braids and freeing her curls while she held tightly.
“Aderī!” she shouted.
They climbed even higher and faster, passing through the clouds. And there, at the boundary between land and sky, the dragon roared with a joy and power that reverberated in the heavens like an echo of her own cries of happiness. 
It was a sound of triumph and unity, an announcement to the world that they were now an unstoppable force.
As she adjusted to the rhythm of flight, she allowed the tension in her hands to relax, letting the moment envelop her completely.
The feeling of freedom was indescribable, as if she had been released from the chains of the earthly world to explore the celestial realms. 
Silverwing soared with the regal grace of a sovereign over her domain, her wings beating with a powerful and confident rhythm that spoke of absolute mastery and majesty.
She descended gently towards the coast, giving her time to steady herself. Then she flew so close to the water that she could feel the mist on her face and fill her lungs with fresh, salty air. The waves crashed against the rocks, sending bright splashes in all directions, just as they had whenever she had seen them before.
They circled around the castle, their shadows casting over the walls and towers. The guards and residents of the castle looked up in awe, gazing at the magnificent figure of the dragon and her new rider, a sight not seen since the times of the good queen.
The dragon ascended once more, spiraling up into the sky before diving into a thrilling descent as she cried out with excitement.
“Ninkiot!” her voice carried by the wind.
With a gentle landing, Silverwing descended onto the shore, her powerful legs sinking into the sand as the waves gently lapped around her.
Carefully, she dismounted, her legs trembling slightly from the excitement of the flight and her heart pounding, almost wanting to escape her chest. She stroked the dragon’s neck, whispering “Kirimvose” as she walked across the wet sand. 
As she reached her front, the solemn creature lowered her head, large eyes watching her attentively again, strengthening the bond between them beyond mere duty or tradition. With that gesture, she allowed her to lean against her forehead again, a clear sign of acceptance, an indication that she had chosen her as her rider. 
She closed her eyes, letting tears of joy flow freely. She tried to embrace the sturdy neck, and though she could not wrap around it, she felt the powerful breath vibrating under her arms.
On the beach, they remained still, enjoying the tranquility that followed the journey. The rhythmic lullaby of the waves and the warm glow of the setting sun created an atmosphere of serenity. Her life had taken a definitive turn, finding in the silver dragon not only a rider-dragon relationship but a faithful and powerful ally, and a sacred bond between two souls, a reflection of her own spirit.
As the sun slowly slid below the horizon, painting the sky with fiery reds and purple hues, they watched together the vast ocean stretching before them.
Thus, enveloped by the twilight that wrapped the world in a soft dusk, they sealed their bond with a silent promise, a tacit oath of eternal loyalty and companionship.
As the sun bid farewell with its last glimmer of light, she prepared to return to the castle, but not before giving the dragon one last affectionate stroke. As she turned, she noticed a figure at the entrance between the rocks: it was Jace, his eyes wide with amazement at what he had just witnessed. Seeing him, her smile widened even more, and she ran towards him.
“You did it!” he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. She nodded with a joyful laugh, and he greeted her with open arms, lifting her and spinning her in the air.
“This is... it's truly amazing!” When he set her down, he planted a kiss on her forehead and hugged her tightly. “We must celebrate” he declared enthusiastically.
“I do not wish to make Rhaena feel left out” she replied, still a bit concerned about her sister.
“Are you serious? You have just claimed a dragon, and you want it to go unnoticed?” Jace looked at her incredulously. “This is monumental.” She laughed, and taking his hand, she dragged him towards the castle.
“We shall celebrate our nameday on the morrow, and, quietly, this as well” she said, their voices echoing between the stone walls on the way to the castle.
“Would you carry me? I feel as my legs might give out any moment” she asked, and Jace chuckled softly, bending down so she could climb
With a small leap, she rested on his back, feeling the security and strength of her twin. “We need to have a saddle made. Although, I must admit, seeing you fly without one was impressive.”
She leaned forward, whispering near his ear: “I felt free, like it was the most natural thing.”
“It will be even better with a proper saddle” he said, nodding to himself. She laughed. She had enjoyed it that way, but she knew they would feel more at ease knowing she had something to hold on to.
Both Daemon and Baela were at Driftmark, so it was just the two of them, their mother, Joffrey, Luke, and Rhaena.
Their arrival did not go unnoticed. When the doors of the hall where they used to have supper swung wide open, and Jace set her down on the floor, she was greeted by a wave of emotions and smiling faces.
Rhaenyra was the first to approach, her eyes filled with pride and joy. “I’m so happy for you, my love” she said with a radiant smile, hugging her tightly. “I knew she was meant for you.”
Her siblings, with admiration in their eyes, surrounded her, congratulating her.
However, among them all, one stood out. Despite being the only one without a dragon, her face reflected genuine happiness for her achievement. Rhaena approached with a warm smile, her eyes shining.
“I knew you’d make it someday” Rhaena said, hugging her tightly.
She felt a deep sense of gratitude and love. Gently stroking Rhaena’s back, she responded with empathy: “Your time will come as well, I am certain of it. You’re strong and brave, and your dragon is waiting for you, just as mine did for me.”
Rhaena nodded, her eyes filled with determination. “I know” she said, with unwavering faith.
She felt a wave of pride for the younger sister, whose resilience and hope were admirable. “And when that moment comes,” she added with a smile, “I will be the first to celebrate it with you.”
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She had been fraught with anxiety, and the soothing sensation of flying alongside her cherished dragon was her only respite. The thought of possibly withdrawing from the impending journey loomed over her, yet deep down, she knew she couldn’t evade it forever. Before the moon could wane, she found herself walking toward the main courtyard, where the dragons and their riders were busily preparing for the upcoming journey.
The festivities were still some time away, but her mother had decided to travel ahead of time, as news of the king’s declining health had reached, and she wanted to spend more time by his side.
In the bustling courtyard, Daemon, commanding the attention of all around him, stood beside Caraxes. His authoritative voice cut through the air as he directed those who would remain behind at the castle. The earlier departure of the other servants had ensured that every detail in King’s Landing was meticulously prepared for their arrival, leaving nothing to chance.
Jace and Luke were checking the straps and harnesses of Vermax and Arrax, while Baela and Rhaena were already mounted on Moondancer, as was her mother on Syrax.
Her youngest brother was especially excited, bouncing from side to side, eager for his first flight. It had taken considerable coaxing from both him and her to convince Rhaenyra to grant permission for them to travel together on dragonback.
“Silverwing looks magnificent!” Joffrey exclaimed. “I can’t wait to fly with her.” She smiled at his joy.
A few days before, she had introduced them. She knew her dragon was known for her gentleness, but she still needed to make sure she felt comfortable.
Silverwing had a new saddle, all black with the Targaryen heraldry in silver, as well as other details, in her honor. 
She mounted first to secure everything. The dragon braced herself well against the ground to assist in the little one’s mounting, who, with the agility of youth, had no trouble getting on. He settled in front of her, his face full of awe.
“Are you ready?” she asked with a smile, observing the excitement on his face, before adjusting both their harnesses.
“Yes!” He exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Once everyone was ready, Silverwing led the flight.
The journey was an incredible experience. Both Joffrey and she were delighted with everything they saw. He, marveling at the views for the first time, and she, still awestruck by the beauty of flying over the vast expanse of the realm.
The trip took less time than she had expected, and not enough to fully accept what was to come. Seeing King’s Landing after so long was strange. Though she didn’t wish to return, her heart was melancholic. It was pleasant to see it again after such a long time, and from a different angle.
From afar, she spotted the enormous shape of Vhagar, who, too large to enter the Dragonpit, was sleeping on the meadow. Once close, she stirred, curious about the visit, and when Silverwing landed, they exchanged friendly roars.
The dragon keepers, those who had been there the longest, had informed her of Silverwing’s fondness for freedom, and she intended to respect it. Unlike the others, she would allow her to rest freely on the green of Rhaenys’s hill.
Joffrey’s mouth was open, amazed by the imposing dragon, as he had never seen her before. She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at this.
“Do you think Tyraxes will grow that big?” He asked, his eyes filled with dreams and hope.
“I think Tyraxes will grow even bigger, my dear” she replied with a smile.
Once they were on the ground, she took her little brother's hand, and after thanking Silverwing for a good flight and wishing her rest, they began to walk toward where their family and the carriages were waiting, ready to travel to the Red Keep.
Joffrey, as curious as ever, kept asking her about Vhagar, and she happily responded, delighted that he shared her interests.
“Vhagar is the oldest and largest” she explained as they walked. “She has seen many battles and served many brave riders.”
“Who is her rider now?” he asked, his tone full of wonder.
“Prince Aemond, our uncle” she replied, gently squeezing his hand. It had been a long time since she had spoken his name out loud.
When they reunited with their family, her mother hugged them as if they hadn’t seen each other in months, ensuring that they were well and ready for the next stage of the journey. Then they split up, with Rhaenyra, Jace, Joffrey, and her on one side, and Daemon, Baela, Rhaena, and Luke on the other.
Rhaenyra took her hand in the carriage, aware of the significance it held for her. “Everything will be alright, my love” she murmured gently.
Her siblings, peering out the windows with a mixture of curiosity and wonder, marveled at the sights they hadn't had the chance to explore.
“I know, mother” she replied, her voice tinged with both gratitude and a hint of nervous anticipation.
When they passed through the gates and were formally presented at the castle entrance, the door opened. It was their mother who went out first, followed by everyone else. Her fears and desires came true simultaneously, as he was conspicuously absent, leaving a hollow space where his presence should have been.
The king stood there, a shadow of his former self—his features more weary and his steps slower, but his eyes sparkled with a radiant joy. He had a beaming smile and nearly dropped his cane in his eagerness to embrace his daughter.
“It’s been so long” he said, his voice trembling with emotion.
They stayed embraced while the others, except for Daemon, offered a courtesy to the queen. She merely greeted from the stairs, her smile a mere flicker that failed to reach her eyes.
The greeting between Alicent and Rhaenyra was tense, unlike the warm embrace everyone else received from the king, who then continued chatting with his brother.
They then headed to their usual floor and dispersed to their respective rooms.
When she arrived, Lyra was already starting to prepare a hot bath. Seeing each other, they smiled, and she walked over to hug her.
“Thank the gods I was already preparing the bath” Lyra said with a smile.
She chuckled at the comment. Perhaps it was for the best that she hadn't seen him, given the state she was in.
Inside, she wrestled with conflicting desires: a part of her wished to never see him again, while another longed to see him immediately, to finally unburden herself from the weight she carried.
As she wandered around the room, her gaze lingered on the familiar surroundings. Once grand and spacious, it now felt confined compared to her quarters on Dragonstone. The room seemed to stand still in time, every piece of furniture and every detail evoking a rush of memories that tangled with her turbulent emotions. Despite her efforts to appear composed, inside, she felt a storm of nostalgia and unease.
“It’s so weird” she murmured as she took in the unchanged space.
“Yes,” the lady agreed, her tone light and soothing, “I think you took all its warmth with you.” Lyra gestured toward the now steaming bath, indicating that it was ready.
She began to undress. As she sank into the bathtub, allowing the warmth to dissipate the accumulated nerves, she relaxed her tense body. Each drop of water seemed to carry away a piece of her anxiety. She let out a sigh of relief.
The soothing scent of rose oil provided a brief respite from the day’s intense emotions, although her mind continued to spin.
Lyra, with the familiarity that only close friendship could offer, and understanding the emotional rollercoaster she was going through, placed the garments on a chair near the tub and approached with a warm smile.
“How are you feeling?” Lyra asked, her voice full of concern and empathy, helping her wash her hair.
She sighed, contemplating how to respond. “I feel as though I am caught between two worlds” she replied softly, gazing at the steam rising from the water. She began to surrender to the soothing sensation of hands working through her head as she closed her eyes.
“It is quite natural to experience such feelings. You have endured a great deal, and returning to a place so full of memories can indeed be quite challenging.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I merely wish to rest before facing everything.”
When she finished, she stood up and stepped out of the bath, taking the hand the lady extended. Lyra wrapped her in soft towels to dry her off and guided her to the mirror next to the window.
From there, they could see the sea, choppy, as if it too was aware of the return of its lost inhabitant and the reunion that would soon follow.
“Do you want to attend supper, or would you prefer to remain here?” Lyra asked gently.
“I believe I will stay here,” she replied, “I’m too fatigued.”
“Would you like to be left alone, or might you appreciate some company?”
“I’d love your company” she said. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate something simple to eat.”
Lyra nodded. “You know,” she said while helping her into the silk gown, “the first days are always the hardest. However, with time, matters tend to settle.”
“I hope so” she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “It’s strange to be back here. I am pleased, yet at the same time…” She sighed, at a loss for words.
“I understand” Lyra said, giving her a small smile.
She nodded, grateful for the support. Lyra left the room to fulfill her request, and in the meantime, she sat in a chair near the window, watching the twilight darken the sky over King’s Landing. The view gave her a mix of sadness and anger, reminding her of what had been.
Soon, Lyra returned with a carefully prepared tray, laden with simple delicacies, and placed it on a small table near the window. She then lit some candles, creating a cozy and calm atmosphere.
“Is there anything you’d particularly like?” Lyra asked as she settled in.
“Everything appears perfect” she said, serving herself some bread and cheese. Although the exhaustion was evident in her eyes and the tension didn’t fully dissipate, she felt a bit more at peace with each bite and every exchanged word.
Finally, she looked at Lyra, trying to mark her nervousness. “Have you seen him around in recent days?”
Lyra frowned slightly, thinking about her recent observations. “Yes, I have encountered him a few times. He seemed quite tense, always immersed in his training.” She looked down at her food.
“People change, just as circumstances do” Lyra said, offering her a sympathetic glance. After a thoughtful pause, she added: “Perhaps there’s a chance to clear the air, understand where things stand.”
“I’m not sure I wish to speak to someone who has seemingly disregarded my existence for years” she admitted with a sigh, her voice heavy with hurt. She set her fork aside, the weight of her emotions apparent. “The very thought of it makes me ache.”
Lyra nodded. “I know” she said. Then she asked, “Perhaps discussing what you intend to wear tomorrow might serve as a distraction.”
A faint smile touched her lips as she considered her wardrobe. The conversation drifted to fashion choices and the trivialities of attire, Lyra’s questions drawing her into a more relaxed state.
“Thank you for listening, Lyra” she said. They had always been close, but with each passing year, they seemed to grow closer. The trust had deepened, and they could talk about other things. Now, Lyra was more than just a lady-in-waiting; she had been a witness to the highs and lows of her life, a confidante who understood more than words could express.
“I shall always be here for you” Lyra said sincerely. “Now, try to unwind. Tomorrow will be a new day and, with any fortune, it may provide greater clarity regarding how to proceed.” She nodded. The journey, though short, had been tiring.
As Lyra took the tray to remove it, she went to her bed to lie down. She tried to filter out the noise of the city and focus on the murmur of the sea. She closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the comforting familiarity of those sounds, trying to find an anchor amid the uncertainty surrounding her.
Her thoughts continued to revolve around what tomorrow would bring. The encounter with him after so long was inevitable, and although she had tried to prepare for the moment, she couldn’t avoid feeling a mix of emotions that kept her awake. Her mind replayed the possible words and gestures they would exchange.
Hours passed in a whisper of thoughts and sighs until she finally found sleep.
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In Dragonstone, it was an uncommon event for the sun to shine in its full splendor, with no clouds to soften its rays. So, as soon as she felt the warmth of the first light of dawn filtering through her window, she began to blink awake, adjusting to the light. Lyra was already there, moving with the efficiency and grace of someone who knew every corner, preparing the outfit they had planned the day before. When she saw her stirring in bed, she smiled and handed her a cup.
"Good morrow" Lyra greeted softly, her voice as serene as the morning breeze. "I brought you some water."
She took the cup with a grateful nod, savoring the coolness of the water as it invigorated her senses and prepared her for the day ahead. Once finished, she got up, stretching her sleepy body and trying to focus on mundane tasks to avoid thinking about him.
Upon arriving at Dragonstone, she had clung to her old routines with a meticulousness born of habit, one that had only changed on the night of his nameday, many years ago. Every day, she had adhered to a strict regimen—her hair tied neatly, every curl perfectly in place, and light blue garments worn in honor of her late father, setting herself apart from her family. 
It might have been her attempt to hold on to his memory, a tribute, or a desperate effort to maintain an identity she felt slipping away.
But the wildness of her new home had weaved its magic around her. Over time, she rediscovered her joy and sense of self. She was a Targaryen, proud and strong. The light blue was replaced, no longer confined to the past, she had embraced the rich hues of black, red and silver. Her hair, once restrained, now flowed freely, a declaration of her freedom.
Lyra helped her into the black dress they had chosen. It was elegant but not too striking, fitting for the occasion. As she adjusted the final details, Lyra's approving gaze and kind words made her smile. "You look astonishing."
"Thank you, Lyra" she said, feeling a wave of confidence wash over her. 
"Ready?" Lyra asked, her voice soft yet filled with encouragement as she approached the door. Taking a deep breath, she nodded in response.
As they left the room, arms linked, the atmosphere in the castle was bustling, as always.
She and Lyra walked through the hallways, heading towards the hall. The path seemed both eternal and fleeting, each step bringing her closer to the crucial moment she had imagined so many times.
As they approached, the echo of conversations grew louder, mingled with the buzz of anticipation filling the air.
"It's exciting, is it not?" Lyra commented, her eyes scanning the lively scene around them.
"Yes, it is" she replied, "and a little overwhelming."
"You will be just fine" Lyra assured, gently squeezing her arm in support before taking her leave.
As the doors opened for her, she looked up, instinctively searching for him, but he was not yet present, so she entered with a bit more relaxation, her steps steadier.
She walked with a composed grace toward the family table, where conversation and laughter were already in full swing. She paused to greet each person in turn, exchanging smiles and brief words. 
Two vacant seats awaited between Daemon and Baela. They began speaking softly, sharing updates and laughter. 
Soon, her other two siblings arrived hand in hand. Joffrey, with his contagious cheer, gave her a warm hug before heading to his place, and Jace took the empty seat next to her.
“Thank you for abandoning me at supper last night” he teased, a mock annoyance coloring his tone.
“My apologies” she said, placing a quick kiss on his cheek that made him roll his eyes in exaggerated irritation. “But Luke was there.”
“Just look at him” Jace said, nodding towards Luke, who was engrossed in animated conversation with Rhaena. The sight made her smile, reassured by how Rhaena seemed just as engaged and entertained as Luke.
A few minutes passed, and at the king’s signal, breakfast began to be served. At that moment, the remaining people arrived, and the murmur in the room paused for a moment.
Everyone immediately rose to greet the queen as she entered, flanked by three of her children. Her heart raced, and her legs felt as though they were encased in lead.
Aemond followed closely behind the queen, impossible to ignore. His towering height and commanding demeanor made him stand out. As their eyes met across the room, the world seemed to blur, leaving only the two of them in focus.
She couldn't tear her gaze away from him. Each breath felt heavy with the weight of years and memories. Aemond's eyes locked onto hers as he approached, but upon reaching the table, he turned his gaze away with studied coldness.
Alicent was the only one to greet aloud, while the others simply took their places on the opposite side of the table, and everyone proceeded to sit down again. Her mother leaned back slightly in her chair to see her better. When she felt her eyes on her, she gave a reassuring smile, a gesture of gratitude for her unspoken support.
The servants resumed their duties, continuing to bring breakfast.
Despite the attempt to focus on the meal, her eyes kept drifting back to Aemond. It was as if some magnetic force drew her to him—part of her yearned to seek solace and fall into his embrace, weep uncontrollably on his chest, letting her tears speak for her, while another part wanted to unleash her frustration, confront him with all the anger she'd accumulated over the years. In either case, she would have asked him why.
His face betrayed nothing; there was a mask of stoicism that revealed no emotion, impenetrable. The round-cheeked boy she once knew had gone, replaced by a tall, slender man with chiseled, sharp features and an almost intimidating, forbidding aura.
His left eye, still covered by a patch, did little to diminish his striking beauty, which had grown darker and more enigmatic over time, and that drew her inexorably.
The turmoil within her was intense, stirred by his very presence, leaving her feeling both drawn to him and pushed away. It was bothering her that he always managed to evoke such deep and contradictory emotions.
The breakfast continued in a strained blend of courtesy and underlying tension, but her mind kept circling around him. She could barely manage a few bites, her stomach churning with unsettled nerves.
“And how do you find life in Dragonstone?” Her grandfather, ever the gracious host, broke the silence with a kind tone. “You know you will always have a place here.”
“We find it most agreeable” Jace responded with genuine enthusiasm. “And the dragons do as well. They seem to thrive there, growing faster and stronger.” She smiled at her twin's comment, appreciating the truth in his words about the unique charm of Dragonstone.
“I heard the princess has officially become a dragonrider” the king remarked with evident admiration.
“Indeed, my king. And to be truthful, Silverwing has claimed me more than I have claimed her” she said, her smile widening at the fond memory.
“The mount of the Good Queen Alysanne” he said with a note of respect. “It suits you well.” Although she knew she would never be a queen, his words touched her deeply. Jace gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
As breakfast concluded, the group began to rise, and the servants appeared to clear the table, signaling the end of the meal and the beginning of the day's activities.
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Sorry for the little to nothing of Aemond! And I know nothing of High Valyrian, sorry for any mistakes!
Māzīs: Come.
Nyke kivio naejot rigle ao: I promise to honor you.
Sōvēs, Gēliotīkun: Fly, Silverwing.
Aderī: Quickly.
Ninkiot: Land.
Kirimvose: Thank you.
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@helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers @callsignwidow @scarletbedlam @fics-i-love-and-recommend @oh-you-mean-me @squidscottjeans @fossface
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zarvasace · 2 days ago
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Twilight
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I'm so bad at drawing animals please forgive me for my crimes against wolf link
Masterpost
Ancestry - awakened animal. That's right, this Twilight is actually a wolf that can turn into a humanoid, not the other way around!
Heritage - running. This is an awakened animal heritage that gives him a jaws attack and a high running speed. (Versus swimming or climbing or flying.)
Background - farmhand. Nothing unusual here.
Class - untamed order druid. Druids are prepared primal casters, but the untamed order gives Twilight a lot of versatility to turn into other animals (and humanoids. He has a favorite half-elf form he uses.) Most of his spells are damage or area-control.
Archetype - curse maelstrom. This gives him a bit of bad luck, but in return for that, he can inflict bad luck on other people.
Other notes - if he, a wolf, turns into a wolf with the untamed form spell, he gets tougher, faster, and a bit more deadly, but can't cast spells. The humanoid form variant is actually a level 4 feat, and means he can choose what medium ancestry he looks like.
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michajawkan · 9 months ago
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This is always my #1 pitch for PF2, because not only are the ancestry options full of great stuff like goblins and skeletons, every single ancestry ALSO gets a heritage on top of that, so not only can you be a goblin you can then also differentiate yourself from other goblins by being a goblin who's resistant to disease or a goblin who's extra-tough or a goblin who's really good at biting or a goblin from the arctic or etc
and then on top of THAT there's also Versatile heritages, which is how the system handles things like Tieflings and Aasimar and Elementals and things like that
and then even deeper, a lot of versatile heritages also have specific feats that grant a certain Lineage, so if you want you can be a Beastbrood Tiefling Goblin, which is a Goblin who is a Tiefling descended specifically from Rakshasa
and speaking of feats, all of these things give you access to specific ancestry feats that run along their own separate track from your class and skill and etc feats, which leads to a ton of potential variety in flavor and mechanics between characters of the same ancestry without even looking at what their classes or backgrounds are, and I adore this so much
I have seen several posts about your dislike for D&D and I wanna know if it's the same for Pathfinder? I love pathfinder but in my eyes it's just a crunchier D&D. (Though admittedly the "canon" worlds for Pathfinder are far more interesting to me)
Obviously that's a very baseline view of the two but I wondered if it's possible to like one and not the other due to their similarities.
P.S. I hope you've had a good week!
Truth be told, I don't dislike D&D! I dislike people treating it as a universal game when it's a very specific type of game! Note: what that specific type of game is also depends heavily on edition! But regardless, D&D will end up sucking big time if you don't play to its strengths!
Now, my opinion on Pathfinder is basically that Pathfinder 1e leaned in on some of the worst designs of D&D 3.5 (a quirky game that still had a lot to love about it): towards the tail end of D&D 3.5 its designers were at the same time getting really nutty with the design and coming up with some really inventive designs (Binders, Tome of Battle, a lot of individual systems in Complete Champion and Complete Scoundrel) but at the same time they were running out of ideas and they came up with the Worst Type of Feats: feats that made a thing that anyone could theoretically do into a thing now gated behind a feat. Player's Handbook 2 for D&D 3.5 had a few of these.
And Pathfinder 1e for some reason decided to really lean in on this type of feat. I will never shut up about the feat that allows gnomes to request their captors to loosen their shackles.
Now Pathfinder 2e is a much better game in my opinion because it seems to have largely rejected that type of design and focused on being a really crunchy D&D clone. It feels like a better successor to D&D 3.5's design ethos instead of Pathfinder 1e, that was ultimately a collection of D&D 3.5 house rules (some of which imo made the game worse than D&D 3.5!) coupled with following some of the worst design trends of D&D 3.5.
Also I refuse to ever shut up about Pathfinder 1e literally having feats that didn't do anything like Monkey Lunge and Prone Shooter. But anyway Pathfinder 2e actually looks like a fun albeit crunchy game instead of just being D&D 3.5 but somehow blander and with worse rules-writing. (now of course D&D 3.5 also kind of sucked in its own ways, but it kind of sucked in a "hey these example characters don't actually qualify for the Prestige Class they're supposed to be representing" type of way instead of a "our FAQ accidentally made it so you could qualify for the Eldritch Knight Prestige Class simply by virtue of being a Tiefling" type of way)
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lukedanger · 4 months ago
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Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous Ask Game - Mechanics and Story
Knight-Commanders, what is the story told by those numbers on your character sheet? Here is an ask game list with some questions themed around that:
What led the future Knight-Commander to take their base class?
What led to the Knight-Commander picking their archetype, or staying the standard class?
If they chose to multiclass, what does it reflect about them? If they did not, why? Story or player reasons.
What prestige classes did they go for, and why? If not, would one fit them or did they qualify for one?
Which class features would particularly stand out with them - Rage, Channel Positive/Negative Energy, Animal Companions, etc.?
What about their skills and feats - what story is told by their skill selection, or was it pure gameplay?
Is there an alternative class or archetype that is in-game that may fit them better, and if so why did they not take that path?
Is a respec part of their story, and if so why? If not, if they had to respec into something else what would it be?
How does their Background choice reflect their character, and how does it play into their build?
How does their ancestry (race) play into their class and mythic path - do they overlap, or what dynamic is created from that combination?
How does their mythic path synergize with their build?
How does their mythic path synergize with their personality - does it augment it, or is it in contrast? Something in-between?
Which mythic abilities/spells would be iconic to them, and was it their preference or did they prefer something less iconic?
What about another mythic path that they did not take? Is there one that would fit them, build or personality wise, and what might that have looked like?
In your story, does the Knight-Commander consciously choose their mythic path at Drezen, or was it thrust upon them by their actions or some other outside force?
How well do they play mechanically with their romance, if any? If not, which party member do they synchronize best with?
Do they overlap with a party member in role or narrative presence, and if so how do they contrast from said party member?
Did any of their companions multiclass or take a PRC they do not start with, and if so what is the story behind this?
What is their favored weapon(s) or spell(s), and why?
Is there an item in-game that you felt became iconic to the Knight-Commander?
If the Knight-Commander could get a unique item, what would it be and what would it do?
What is the Commander’s opinion of their mythic patrons/advisors - the Hand of the Inheritor, Aivu or the Desnan Adepts, Zacharias, the Aeon in the mirror, Hal, Yozz and Noticula, etc.?
What units did they pick in the Military Council (Infantry, Archers, Cavalry, Spellcasters, Grand Tier), and why?
When the option to pick was available, which mythic units did they unlock and why?
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rpgsandbox · 5 days ago
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The 10 Most Anticipated TTRPGs For 2025!
EN World’s annual vote on the most anticipated titles of the coming year, and yes, some games have appeared on this list in previous years.
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10) Starfinder 2E (Paizo Publishing) The Starfinder Playtest Rulebook brings Starfinder into a new age of compatibility, as Starfinder switches to using the same rules engine that powers the popular Second Edition of the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game. Inside this playtest for the new edition, you’ll find six new classes, 10 ancestries, new skills, new feats, futuristic equipment including augmentations and upgrades, new science-fantasy spells, and more!
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9) Alien - Evolved Edition (Free League) Expanded and updated core rules and a new cinematic scenario for the award-winning RPG from Free League and 20th Century Studios. Based upon feedback from thousands of players over five years of adventures, the Evolved Edition of the Core Rulebook delivers an updated and streamlined version of the ALIEN RPG fans know and love, along with additional new artwork, new content, and a variety of new tools for players and Game Mothers alike, all fully compatible with previous releases and game material.
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8) 13th Age 2nd Edition (Pelgrane Press) A New Edition of the Award-Winning Heroic Fantasy Game! The coolest and most fun parts of traditional d20-rolling fantasy gaming plus story-focused rules, now with updated class and kin powers, fearsome new abilities for your favorite monsters, and revamped icon connection mechanics!
13th Age 2E has been in this chart three years running! In both 2023 and 2024 it came 3rd in the poll!
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7) Coriolis: The Great Dark (Free League) Free League's original sci-fi RPG returns. Join expeditions to faraway stars and delve deep into ancient ruins.
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6) Dolmenwood (Necrotic Gnome) Dolmenwood is a fantasy adventure game set in a lavishly detailed world inspired by the fairy tales and eerie folklore of the British Isles. Like traditional fairy tales, Dolmenwood blends the dark and whimsical, the wondrous and weird.
This is Dolmenwood's second appearance in this chart, coming in at #5 last year!
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5) Terry Pratchett's Discworld: Adventures in Ankh-Morpork (Modiphius) Adventures in Ankh-Morpork, the Discworld tabletop roleplaying game, catapults you onto the streets of the Big Wahoonie, and once you've dusted yourself off you can adventure to your heart's content. With imagination and some shiny math rocks at your fingertips, your story on the Disc awaits. Based on the popular Discworld fantasy series by Sir Terry Pratchett, Adventures in Ankh-Morpork is an officially licensed tabletop roleplaying game set in its most recognisable city, complete with Sir Terry's iconic wit, humour, and humanistic satire.
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4) Draw Steel (MCDM) A Fantasy RPG where your character starts, at level 1, already a hero. Maybe even locally famous! You might meet in a tavern, or start in the middle of the action! Whether you’re a group of local heroes sent to investigate mysterious goings-on in the nearby haunted wood, or famous mercenaries plotting and scheming in the big city, the MCDM RPG makes building adventures and fighting monsters fun. Basically, any adventure or story you’re running in your current Fantasy RPG, you can do that in this game. Just, in a more straightforward and fun way, unburdened by sacred cows from the 1970s.
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3) Daggerheart (Darrington Press) Daggerheart is a fantasy tabletop roleplaying game of brave heroics and vibrant worlds that are built together with your gaming group. Create a shared story with your adventuring party, and shape your world through rich, long-term campaign play.
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2) Brandon Sanderson's Cosmere (Brotherwise Games) The Cosmere® RPG is a "living" RPG that will grow as Brandon Sanderson writes new novels and expands his universe. This original system is designed to tell standalone stories in the Stormlight™ or Mistborn® Settings -- or sweeping Worldhopper™ campaigns that move between different worlds and realms!
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1) Legend in the Mist (Son of Oak) A rustic fantasy tabletop RPG based on the acclaimed City of Mist. Spin a fireside tale of unlikely villagers setting out on a quest into a greater unknown world, rife with peril and mystery, in the vein of The Lord of the Rings, The Wheel of Time, Princess Mononoke, and many other classic fantasy stories, or create your own legendary realms with the game’s open-ended system.
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least-evil-resident · 3 months ago
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medieval resident evil au where Umbrella is a cabal of dark mages trying to unlock the secrets to lichdom and go mad learning secrets from the undead eldritch horror outside of space and time
Chris and Jill are Knights in service of the Order of Stars, Leon is a beginning town guard, Ada is still a spy, honestly not much is different
If you give them ttrpg character sheets then it's even more fun
Would guns be wands, badass Crossbows, or straight up magic, or different based on the game? They could also just be guns but that wouldn't be nearly as interesting.
Consider pistol=dagger, rifle=longsword, shotgun=axe? Grenades could be hand bombs or magic.
Or pistol=hand crossbow, rifle=light crossbow, shotgun is either special bolt or a spell
Beneath the cobblestone streets of raccoon city, where gaslamps and auto-carriages ramble, is the lair of an evil sect of mages developing spells in secret to transform humans into beasts
Could be very bloodborne-esque. Lots of fire and brimstone. Maybe STARS are more like paladins, and the bsaa is an order of Templar type organization.
If we go dnd 5e rules, Chris is a fighter for sure, Jill is like a rogue I guess? Leon could go either. It could be fun to make Claire like a sorcerer since she gets the grenade launcher
In later games I think Chris definitely fits either paladin or barbarian, where Leon goes for more rogue/maybe ranger vibes. Jill seems more rogue+fighter but magic rogue is cool, maybe artificer. Claire would be sorcerer multiclass I think. Keep any mages low powered that way.
Sherry in 6 is maybe warlock or aasimar instead of Cleric? Blood hunter would be cool. Rebecca starts as a Cleric in 0 for sure. For a low magic setting where research and Rituals are matched by quick, small combat spells, how high of a DC do you think enemies would go?
Of course, in a classless system like gurps or all flesh, this would be a lot less restrictive. What would be the best system for resident evil normally? What would be the best one for its fantasy au?
Wesker very much fits the low-fantasy vampire theme. He has a reflection and can step in he sunlight but wow it hurts his eyes. Chris rolls a 20 to punch a boulder to death.
Leon has the lucky feat or 20 in dex or something to pull off his stunts. Chris also gets Charisma as a leader for the bsaa, so paladin is up his alley. Leon's secret service requires more rogue skills, but his time in operation javier trains his skills as a Ranger under Krauser maybe?
Jill and Claire both get grenade launchers, but Jill is more Rogue with her lockpicking so it makes sense for them to switch level ups later on as claire learns more professional skills for rogue training.
Barry definitely hits fighter/barbarian with his heavy weapons. Jake is maybe more monk/barbarian but with something like a dhampir ancestry feature? Sheva is maybe rogue/fighter or paladin fighter since thats when chris starts taking paladin levels. Billy has to be rogue/fighter I think, or maybe fighter/rogue, if he even gets a second class. It would almost make sense for him to be pure rogue and rebecca be cure cleric, since she retires to become a researcher and hes never heard from again. Helena is I guess just plain rogue, hinting at her role in 6, while Leon has his ranger levels. Piers is more rogue/Ranger (or fighter archer). A lot of the one off teammates just don't get super interesting classes as a consequence of their limited appearance. Carlos... Fighter? Just fighter is fine.
Now, the problem here is that each game starts off with little to no equipment for various reasons. In the case of our spell casters like claire and jill, we can't just de-level them between adventures in the resident evil campaign. But we could give them more limited access to spell components to match the resource management of survival horror.
This is more complicated outside of dnd 5e, where a game like All Flesh Must Be Eaten has very different spellcasting rules, so you'd need to stray from a low-magic to a straight low-fantasy setting. Alchemist tools and one use spell scrolls replace your grenades and spell casting maybe? That's the issue you'd run into with treating the setting as one campaign instead of each game as an individual campaign though.
The easiest one to do is RE8. It's literally the same. Ethan starts 7 as a human Commoner, takes levels in artificer as the game goes on, since that one introduced crafting, and comes back very subtly as a human variant with a few new levels in fighter from chris' tutoring. Hey that means we can give Hiesenburg an artificer friend! Class buddies ♡ hiesenburg is probably artificer/sorcerer, giving him charisma and intelligence. Dimetrescu is maybe barbarian if she even gets class levels.
I don't think we can justifiably say Rose is a variant human, I think she gets her own custom ancestry features for this. Sorcerer also feels better than Druid for her, but a couple levels in - you guessed it, rogue! Cover her gun and Stealth skills. You get a lot or rogues and fighters in low powered/low fantasy settings, who knew lol
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littlesparklight · 23 days ago
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Thinking about the casual mention of the huge rocks Ajax, Hektor (and Diomedes, I think, at one point? Idr) and undoubtedly others, too toss around. The ones that are more than two-four men "of today" can carry together.
It's easy to ignore this, of course, and just say that the Heroic-era heroes are as strong as strong humans today and let it stop at that. Easier, too, perhaps, if you're writing fic and such! But if we do acknowledge this as a thing, that has some fun implications and gives something to chew on both for individual characters and the Mythical Bronze Age people as a whole.
For one, is it everyone who is strong like this, from the simplest commoner to the greatest of the divinely-descended royalty? If that's it, it wouldn't be particularly impressive, I suppose. If everyone can do this it's just their baseline - which would of course fit with the idea that the Bronze/Heroic race of humans are "better" than Iron Age/our own people today, in some way.
On the other, there's no direct need to go that drastic - a sliding scale seems implied anyway, given, say, the great strength of Herakles, which is definitely beyond anyone else's.
So perhaps what we're looking at is that it's specifically those from royal lines that have gods somewhere in their ancestry that are this impressively strong. With "regular" people perhaps still stronger in general as a baseline than "us" today, but they're still below that of those with divine ancestry.
So you'd end up with a spectrum again, where Herakles is, of course, at the top. And Trojan War-era wise, Ajax (and Achilles undoubtedly) and Hektor presumably are at the top of that scale among mortal people still living. Everyone else, down to the common people, would be arranged between and below them.
With that we'd be back with that these huge rocks would still be a feat to the majority of the men on the battlefield (and those watching).
Yet it would also be something almost... expected, of anyone of noble/"heroic" bloodlines, something only they can do and ought to be able to do, given their ~natural excellency~. (Divine ancestry, that is.) Another question would be - those who are offspring directly of gods, in the Trojan war itself people like Achilles, Askalaphos and Ialmenos, Helen and Aeneas, etc, are they as a rule stronger than their mortal-but-having-divine ancestry peers? Or is it simply a possibility that they might gain greater strength than their peers, and would simply at the very least be as strong as the rest who have divine ancestry?
Just some thoughts - and possibly fun to include!
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purpleajisai · 11 months ago
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Uchiha Observation n°1: Sasuke’s lineage - headcanons, storyline and hints in canon
This post is part of the worldbuilding process for a fanfic idea that I’ve been maturing over the past year, so I will update this if needed. I have wondered about the relationship between Madara and Sasuke for a long while now, and I knew there has to be a deeper connection than just reincarnations of Indra. The moment that piqued my interest was the point that Hashirama made about Sasuke looking like Izuna, implying that if Madara saw someone so similar to his beloved younger brother he could listen to what Sasuke had to say and perhaps change his mindset in regards to the war.
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This cannot be a coincidence. Today, I’m going to share my headcanon regarding Madara and Sasuke’s kinship: Sasuke is Madara’s great nephew, connnected through Izuna. Here is the genealogical tree:
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First of all, let’s explain Izuna’s generation. Of course, you can see Madara represented there as an older brother as well as the 4 unnamed younger siblings mentioned in the river flashbacks. The language used by Madara suggest that there were 5 other siblings aside from him, not 5 in total and including him. In the case of Izuna, according to the databooks he died at age 24, which is definitely old enough to be married and have a child.
And perhaps the readers are wondering why I’m not considering Madara to be married as well since he’s not only older than Izuna but also the clan leader. The only reason why I’m not giving him a wife and kids at the time of Izuna’s death is because I want to adhere to canon in this regard (no spoilers about the fic’s plot).
In the storyline I’ve planned, Izuna would die and leave behind a little baby or even a pregnant wife. The exact moment is yet undecided. However, it is through this only son of Izuna from which we can connect him to Sasuke. Once Izuna’s son grows up, having the pressure of being the last surviving heir to the clan, it’s not far-fetched for this man to have more than 2 children to ensure his legacy and prevent the clan from descending into anarchy. The reason why his firstborn son, who would be Izuna’s eldest grandson, is marked as “disgraced” in this chart is because the existence of this generation collides with the 2nd Great Ninja War. A possible reason I may consider to add for his fall into disgrace and shunning by the clan is that he would’ve left some Uchiha comrades to die in order to protect important Konoha intel, therefore gaining the reputation of a traitor and not being suitable for inheriting the clan’s leadership.
With the eldest son banned from the position of clan heir, the younger son would immediately take his place. From the disgraced eldest brother, we get Obito’s ancestry, and from the younger brother we get Mikoto’s generation. For Obito’s case, I theorize a normal Uchiha picked at random wouldn’t be able to handle the toll of Madara’s eyes, whether in EMS or Rinnegan form. Technically speaking, these eyeballs are actually Izuna’s, reinforcing his importance for this lineage. Please consider the importance of genetics in handling kekkei genkai in the Naruto universe. For Mikoto’s case, I added an older brother for her. Why? Because it used to be a custom in the Sengoku period and the subsequent Edo period to follow agnatic (male-only) succession for leadership. The death of Mikoto’s brother would put Fugaku as a leader, given that he’s the husband of a bearer of the lineage of clan leaders.
Finally, we get to Itachi and Sasuke. Neither one nor another were “normal” Uchiha: both unlocked the mangekyo sharingan and handled the toll of the Susano’o, among other remarkable feats. If Sasuke is connected to Madara through Izuna’s descendants, it would imply the existence of a direct line of ancestry that starts with Indra himself. The headcanons regarding the internal structure of the Uchiha clan will be discussed in a future post. The direct family line from Izuna to Sasuke can therefore explain why both looked so similar (recessive genetics) and why Madara felt nostalgic or touched at the sight of someone who resembled his beloved little brother so much.
Thanks for reading thus far, and if you have any questions plkease use the blog’s ask box.
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lunarmoonanons · 9 months ago
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The Red Mother
🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕
Jaehaerys and his children take a trip north. In crowd of people YN sees a familiar face.
🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕
Masterlist
During a bright morning in 72 Ac, King Jaehaerys flew with two of his children across Westeros. His oldest son, and his favorite daughter. Though YN was not of his blood, she was his daughter and his most beloved child. He would never say it to his other children, whom he loved, but he adored YN the most. He longed for her to call him ‘father’ and for her to stay with him for the rest of his life. 
This was one Jaehaerys’ many incursions across his kingdom. He wanted to show the people his strong family, his children he was so proud of, and especially YN his dragon caller. The people needed to see their dragons and their valyrian ancestry and magic. To know that their king and his heirs were strong. 
Besides which, Aemon had just claimed Caraxes so he could follow his father and sister on his own dragon. YN rode behind him on Balerion, the dragon she would always choose. Yet nowadays she would refrain from flying as much due to the dragon’s old age. Jaehaerys knew she adored the black dread. How she adored all the dragons, and had this connection to them that he could never fully understand. That was beyond him, yet he never loved her any less because of it. 
Soon they arrived in White Harbor, the only port city in the North. Where house Manderly sat and would welcome the King. Soon he and his children would fly to Winterfell and the wall, but here was where the most population was. They landed in a clearing, a necessary feat since Balerion was so large. Their entourage of knights and noble lords arrived quickly behind. The City greeted them with applause and cheers. YN smiled and waved and looked her best, though her heart was not in the mood. Jaehaerys had noticed the smile not reaching his daughter’s eyes, but he focused his attention on the head of House Manderly who greeted him warmly. 
YN found herself staring at the mothers and daughters in the crowd. Today was particularly hard for her since today is the anniversary of when her mother left her alone in this foreign land. A small girl of six years all alone, the last image of her mother being that of red eyes and red hair. Whispering about her brother whom she said was in the north, the north of north where ice burns like fire. She missed her mother, she missed the shadow city, and the dark mountains where she was from. She even missed the fire and abstract shadows on the wall. 
“Your mind is elsewhere.” Aemon chastised and nudged her slightly. 
YN composed herself and nudged him back. “And your mind is on your wife, so you focus on that firstly.” 
“I can focus on two things. And so can you. Pay attention or father won’t let us fly anymore.” Aemon replied and turned his head back to his father. 
YN looked at the crowd and for a moment the breath left her lungs. She saw someone in the crowd. Red hair and red eyes hidden behind others. She remembered the last image of her mother and could swear that this was her. She felt the urge to run away from Jaehaerys’ entourage and go to this figure. But before she could fathom the thought any further Aemon tugged her arm and she was brought back to the present. 
“Come, your majesty. We have prepared a feast for you and your men. You shall be well looked after.” The head of the house welcomed and led her father toward his home. 
YN took one last look at the crowd but the woman was gone. She felt tears prick at her eyes but blinked them away before any others could see. 
~~
The Manderlies did know how to take care of their guests. There was dancing and loud talking, music and food, and all of it could not distract YN from what she saw earlier in the day. Jaehaerys and Aemon sat to her right talking and not paying attention to the 18 year old girl. The head of house Manderly took a look at the girl and then to Jaehaerys and complimented the king on his daughter. 
“Forgive me my King, but as beautiful as your daughter is, she does not share the same beauty as your and your son share.” The Head asked. “I am not familiar with the story of how you came across such a lovely girl.” 
“I found her on the King’s road as it was being constructed. She conducted a miracle and called the Black Dread to her side and proved herself to be of the Dragon’s blood. As my family and I are.” Jaehaerys smiled at the memory. “I was blessed with her. And I will not have anyone else take her from my side. She belongs with me.” 
“She is his favorite.” Aemon joked and nudged his sister. When she did not react he turned fully to her and looked at her faraway gaze. “YN?” 
“I have to get some fresh air.” YN stated and stood from her seat. She kissed Jaehaerys on the cheek and found her way outside the main hall and to the stables. 
Her mother was on her mind and her home memories flashed about her. She missed home, she missed her brother, she missed everything. The only person she felt she could talk to was Balerion, but he was sleeping or flying high above. Most likely sleeping. He was home but he was her first home. 
“I’ve missed you my love.” A whispering voice floated upon the air, making YN look up and freeze upon the sight in front of her. Her mother, not red but in the image of what she looked like before she placed her strange necklace upon herself. YN was shaking as she stepped forward slowly, then quicker. And though she was not far away YN felt herself going miles before she wrapped her arms around her mother. 
“Mama.” YN cried and hugged her tighter. She felt relief as her mother wrapped her arms around her daughter and stroked the girl’s black hair. 
“My daughter. My sweet girl. Have you remembered what I’ve taught you?” She asked and pulled back. Without her necklace, which made her look young, YN saw the age on her mother’s face. She did not look like a crone, but YN memorized the lines on her face and the thinness in her cheeks. 
“I want to go home. I want to go back to the shadow city. Mama please.” YN begged and looked for comfort in her mother’s face. 
“I know. I know my love. You must have so many questions for me. But now is not the time.” Her mother dropped her arms and placed a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “I cannot stay.”
“No! Please. I need you. Where have you been? Why did you leave me? Why did we leave home? Why does fire not burn me? I need you to answer my questions! I need you.” YN demanded and tried holding on tighter. But her mother pulled away and gave her one last gentle touch to her tan cheek. 
“I know. But you must be left here. I cannot stay.” She stepped away, whispering something that made YN fall to the ground on her knees and stare helplessly at her mother. 
“Mama! Mama please! I want to go home! I want to go home please!” YN begged and sobbed but to no avail. Her mother turned and disappeared into the nightly shadows. Wrapping her strange necklace around her neck and letting her hair turn red and young again. 
YN sobbed and hit the ground. Praying to someone, anyone, but no one would hear her. No one but Jaehaerys, who found his daughter on the ground sobbing and hitting the ground. He rushed forward, dropping to the ground with her and taking her in his arms. Shushing her and holding her tightly. 
“My daughter. My YN, what has you crying like this?” He asked and looked around but no one else was there, he bade his men to stay back and not look upon them. 
“My mother. My mama. She was here. She was here and she left me.” YN cried and cried. 
“My girl there is no one here.” 
“She was here. I wanted her to take me.” YN looked at him. Jaehaerys who had a concerned and worried look on his face.
“Take you? But my girl why would you want to leave?” 
“I wanted her to take me home. I want to go home.” YN whimpered and looked at the sky. “She left me. She left me again. I have no one.”
Jaehaerys sighed and kissed her forehead. “You have us. You have me. I cannot replace your mother but I cannot let you go. I love you dearly. My child. My girl. Come let's go inside. I’ll have you lie down. Then you can tell me everything.”
YN finally stood and let him guide her to a room. She knew she shouldn’t have said so much to Jaehaerys. But she couldn’t help it. She loved her adopted family. She loved Jaehaerys but he couldn’t be her home. She no longer had her mother. She ached for her mother. She ached for home. 
She wished she was home.
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the-amazing-boop · 1 year ago
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My track by track first impressions for Unreal Unearth (with some contextualized thoughts of the singles)
De Selby Part 1 - straight into the lullabies playlist. Just perfect.
De Selby Part 2 - perfect fade in from Part 1. I couldn't have dreamt up a better, more subtle transition. Still my current creature comfort.
First Time - oh, ffs, it's bluesy and sad. Lethal combination. This might be another one on repeat later. Ow. Ouch, ow. THE FINAL TIME YOU CALLED ME "BABY". Wtf. I see why some of y'all were cussing him out on here.
Francesca - my beloved. Brutal to have this follow First Time, though. Mentally two-stepping through the tears. The bellowing at the outro still has the power to ascend me despite my replaying.
I,Carrion - another certified heartbreaker for the lullabies playlist. She's Greek, she's cosmic, she's pure love.
Eat Your Young - I am once again solidified in my conviction to refuse having children in this fucked up world. Y'all be safe.
Damage Gets Done (feat. Brandi Carlile) - Okay guitar lick! Oh the voices belting together in harmony is hitting me. I'm getting really 2010s feelings I haven't felt in forever. I feel the sudden urge to forgive myself. He's back at it again with the choral work, CAN I LIVE??
Who We Are - and just like that, I'm back on my emo shit. He really went for emotional whiplash in terms of song ordering, huh? Not me literally listening to this while engulfed in a dark room as well. Another one I'll have to repeat, I fear.
Son of Nyx - oh fuck. Oh no. Not the piano dragging along. And no words. THE CUTOFF. THE STRINGS. THE VOCALIZATIONS. It's definitely a warning. Shit's about to start hurting for real. It's so haunting and gorgeous.
All Things End - Hello, old friend, my first favorite. I'm terrified of what follows you. It was bad enough watching the man "die" on the table (my hands are in the air to receive the gospel).
To Someone From A Warm Climate (Uiscefhuarithe) - fucking hell. Just devastating. Idk how much more I can take.
Butchered Tongue - this hits like crazy if you have any connection to a diaspora that was nearly erased or just have ancestry DEEPLY rooted oppression and the like. Ffs, I'm gonna need stitches for a cut that deep.
Anything But - and then this happy shit. Back at it again with the whiplash, the bastard. I love it though! This is going on the light and bright playlist. I'm a sucker for sad lyrics dressed in bright colors. And the vocals?? Come on, now.
Abstract (Psychopomp) - I was right. Everything following Son of Nyx just hurts differently. Dare I say worse than the first half of the album. I really shouldn't get into how I relate OFTEN to the poor roadkill creatures in my area.
Unknown/Nth - a nice and plentiful helping of stake through the heart, as usual. The briiidge. I drown in it every time.
First Light - I'm gonna say it's an instant classic. The imagery. The love on love on love. The catharsis. The drumsss. Oh! The acoustic fade out.
Overall, he didn't bother not once to lift his heel on this album. He's outdone himself. No skips. I am foaming at the mouth, waiting for my vinyl to come in. All get 10s across the board from me. 16 works of art. I really wish I could lock myself in a room for three days to really digest this album.
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