#and it's not the eight year old or the one with a sword

[aesteries]

⋆✴︎˚。⋆ ─ ❝sweetling❞ ─ aemond targaryen and original female character. ❝alicent hightower's youngest daughter, haera targaryen, has returned to king's landing after eight long years in old town and aemond finds himself inexplicably drawn to the girl kissed by the moon and with the eyes that seem to only look at him.❞

how could i not love eyes that see me in all my forms as beautiful?

〔incest, innocence and fantasies, fluff and romance, smut, virginity, events of blood and cheese, family rivalry, disabled main character, hints of book!aemond, modified show!timeline and events.〕

words: 1k. series' masterlist.

                 BLOOD AND CHEESE. 

The news of Lucerys Velaryon's demise spread like wildfire over the realm, igniting the fury of Rhaenyra Targaryen and her supporters. Yet, somehow, within the Red Keep, they basked in their perceived victory, blissfully unaware of the plans made against them brewing on the horizon. The Green Council believed that they had secured their claim to the Iron Throne as more houses pledged their support for their side, growing in power. Little did they know that the ancient walls of the Keep held secrets far more dangerous than they could ever imagine.

Helaena Targaryen, as the newly-crowned queen, had long since established a nightly ritual where she would lead her young children to the chambers of the former queen to be greeted with warm milk and storytelling. This routine was well-known throughout the Keep, with even the low ratcatchers making way for the royals as they walked through the halls towards their destination. On this one fateful night, however, there was a change in the formation. The usual maids that accompanied the queen on her routine had asked to be dismissed, and instead she was followed by her younger sister, Haera. The usual guards that kept watch at the front of the room had been changed as well, replaced by newly-appointed young men. As they settled into the warm embrace of the Dowager Queen's chambers, the tranquillity of the moment was soon to be shattered by a darkness that would forever change the course of their lives.

A secret passage in Princess Haera's chambers creaked open, revealing the entrance to tunnels that had once served as a safe escape for the royal family. Two figures emerged from the shadows, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Unnoticed by the guards or ignored by them, they slipped through walls towards their goal. Princess Haera had been teaching the kids a lullaby, an ancient melody from the citadel, when she was silenced by a cold blade pressed against her delicate neck. A rough hand forced her back, grabbing a handful of her head to keep her in place. Blood and Cheese made their appearance, introducing themselves as justiciars, agents of vengeance for the death of Lucerys Velaryon. They demanded a life for a life, a son for a son.

Blood and Cheese allowed the Queen to choose between her sons—to give one of them up and save the other. In tears, she named her youngest, believing him to be too young to understand the situation. Helpless, the younger princess cradled her nephew, Maelor, while the eldest boy stood nearby, fear etched on his innocent face. Helaena, in desperation, offered her own life as a sacrifice instead of the life of her children, but the men's hearts were hardened by a thirst for blood, and so they turned their attention to the children. They taunted the young child before the true horror unfolded. With a swift, brutal strike of a sword, Jaehaerys' head was separated from his body, his blood splattering over the women in the room. The room was filled with the sickening sound of steel against flesh, the muffled cries of the child, and the piercing shriek that followed.

As the assassins vanished into the darkness, carrying the severed head of the young prince as a grim trophy, Queen Helaena wept over her fallen son, her heart shattered. Dowager Queen Alicent, overcome with grief and rage, rushed to summon the guards, but it was too late. The Keep drowned in chaos, with guards swarming the halls with faces taken by fear and confusion as they accused each other of negligence. Swords were drawn, and tempers flared as they searched for answers to the impossible question: How had the assassins managed to infiltrate the heart of the Red Keep, undetected?

Alicent clung to her broken daughters, heavy with grief as she shielded them from the sight of the child's body. Helaena's cries pierced the air, a shattering song that would haunt them for years to come. The younger sister, traumatised by the event, fell to the floor, foam spilling out of the corners of her mouth, yet no one could calm her. King Aegon turned into a shell of his former self, having to be contained in the throne room, where he had been spending the night with his companions while his family witnessed the murder of his heir. He threatened violence over anyone who dared to touch him.

A sole figure emerged from the chaos, strangely peaceful. Prince Aemond Targaryen's presence commanded silence. Was it for the intimidation of his temper or because of the reason why such a crime had been committed against an innocent child? With a single glance, he cut through the throng of guards and made his way to his sister, Haera. Gently, he took her into his arms, only offering her comfort in the face of the tragedy. As he carried her away, his one eye fell upon the lifeless body of Prince Jaehaerys, covered by a white sheet. Some say that a cruel smirk played upon his lips, a silent acknowledgement of his role in the boy's demise, while others claim he offered a sombre apology, taking responsibility for the horrific event. Regardless of the truth, Aemond's presence was a stark reminder of the dark forces at play.

Grief and despair marked the days that followed, with the Red Keep shrouded in sorrow. The city echoed with mourners; people who had never met the prince shed tears for the tragedy of his demise. In an attempt at showing some sort of reaction to the crime, the city's ratcatchers were rounded up and executed, their bodies hung from the walls as a grim warning. Otto Hightower replaced the human ratcatchers with an army of felines, whom he believed to be more honourable than men in the end.

Queen Helaena sank deeper and deeper into madness while the king raged, drank, and raged.

[horsechestnut]

AU to add to the list of AUs I'll never write: All of the Robins are de-aged to the age they were when they became Robin. Their memories are also reset to that point, and somehow they're in their Robin suits.

So you have a 16 year old Steph, desperately trying to wrangle 4 feral children who look nearly identical and won't tell her their names because "you do know what a secret identity is, don't you Stephanie?"

[fourswords]

ACTUALLY. it is really fun to me that the hero of the minish can canonically see ghosts without needing an item or anything because it opens up the avenue of him having a very real chance of being able to meet the hero of men. like he's poking around the royal valley after the events of the minish cap and the hero of men just materializes behind him like "lmao who the fuck is this kid" and the hero of the minish jumps like twenty feet in the air and instantly tries to stab him with the four sword. which leads to a whole thing about "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SWORD" "IT'S NOT YOUR SWORD ANYMORE STUPID YOU'RE DEAD!!!!!!!"

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

i see a post talking doom and gloom about how we'll never escape toxic masculinity. i think about back in 2017 when american girl released their first boy doll, and a review for him went viral in the collecting community. the review was written by a mom, who said they went into the store to get their daughter a doll, only to see their son's eyes light up like fire when he saw a doll that looked like him, and now every night he puts his doll in pajamas and rocks him to sleep. i think about the toddler in my daycare room a few years back who was obsessed with baby dolls, carrying them everywhere, and his mom proudly told us he uses his sisters' old baby dolls and wants to be just like them. that toddler saw another toddler crying one day and gave her the doll he had to cheer her up. i think about the eight-year-old boy i saw a few years back, excitedly waving around raya's sword in a target checkout line like all his dreams were coming true. there was a video on my instagram the other day of a little boy at disneyworld crying with joy upon meeting his hero, mulan. i think about the voice actor for bow in the she-ra reboot saying his nephews only wanted adora action figures. celebrity men are wearing dresses on tv now. last halloween i saw a little boy dressed as elsa. i went to go see spiderverse over the summer, and in the line ahead of me was a boy who couldn't be older than twelve or thirteen, bouncing and beaming, giddy with excitement over getting to see the female-led romance movie elemental. i think about the five-year-old boy at my library who breathlessly asked me where the pinkalicious books were, eyes widening when i had more on my cart, his mom explaining that he is all about pinkalicious and fancy nancy. i saw so many pictures online of boys and men dressed in pink to see barbie. teenage boys are gonna open their phones and see the man who wrote fucking game of thrones dressed in pink to see barbie. when i was a kid, a boy dressing in pink was practically a social death sentence. there are boys running around in pink on my street right now.

[qqueenofhades]

I think its genuinely fascinating how Biden has somehow become the bad vibes sin eater for the party. I'm seeing people who were doing the whole "voting doesn't matter both old men are the same" pivot hard into voting as harm reduction. The anti voting rhetoric has COMPLETELY lost The Youths on tiktok. People suddenly remember the good things the Biden administration has done but don't associate Harris with any of the things they didn't like. In my swing state volunteers are signing up in droves. People feel ENERGIZED, the vibe shift pre and post Biden dropping from the race has just been insane

Y'know, that is a... good way of putting it. It's also why I'm quite sure that Biden has probably been planning it for a while. I don't think he was intending to step down, and didn't want to be forced out at the drop of a hat, but after he realized that the circus was never going to stop until he did, he did the honorable fall-on-his-own-sword thing and definitely, DEFINITELY spent some time choreographing this behind the scenes. Because while the roll-out has been very smooth, it could just as easily (as many of us were expecting) have been a total disaster, and that doesn't happen without SOME planning. It's also entirely possible that the campaign staff flipped from Biden to Harris are superhuman, to come up with a massive online roll-out, new branding, new signs (they had plenty of 'em in Wisconsin yesterday), new everything, but I'm guessing it's a combination of both. Biden has spent his entire political career being underestimated, and after we literally made a meme out of Dark Brandon juking the Republicans out of their shoes, we should definitely give credit where credit is due in how masterfully he pulled it off.

Because we have had eight years defined by the central question of Whether The President Is a God King Who Should Serve For Life (the MAGAts obviously think yes), the sheer idea of a president willingly giving up his power BEFORE he had to is also novel and admirable. It's sad that this is the case, but so be it. The Republicans also got a heaping helping of Be Careful What You Wish For that was undoubtedly brilliant; they've been yelling for years that Biden is old and frail and can't serve and should step down. Biden went "lol okay" and gave it to them, and now they're fucked.

Aside from that, on the most basic level, it's far, far easier to see the actual difference in the parties with Harris as the nominee, just because it shows that one party is willing to make progress and reflect the new demographic reality and social mores of America, and the other one is not. Now to be clear, Biden deserves an incredible amount of credit for coming out of retirement (he was ALREADY 77 years old when he became president and had had decades of a long and respected career in public service behind him) to fight, beat Trump, and deliver an incredibly successful presidency. He held the line against authoritarianism at home and abroad, he rescued the trashed American economy and managed a world-leading recovery from Covid, he stood up for democracy, he spent four years filling the benches with liberal judges to reverse even some of the Trump/McConnell hack job, he finally passed comprehensive infrastructure investment and the Green New Deal under the name of the Inflation Reduction Act -- and so on. Many of these priorities had been languishing for decades or were completely trashed under Trump, and he could not have done so much in just 4 years without all that age, skill, and experience. Hence why all the Ageism!!! was (aside from being a Republican/media smear job) dumb. He's able to do the job because he has had decades to study. Turns out that makes you actually pretty damn good at it.

Yes, Biden could not do as much as he wanted or originally planned, had to deal with MAGA Republicans and Joe Manchin/Kyrsten Sinema sabotaging him the whole time (lololol Manchin, possible possessor of the World's Biggest Ego and with Trump around that's saying something, popping out of obscurity to self-righteously announce he would not be willing to be Kamala's VP. YEAH ASSHOLE. LITERALLY NOBODY ASKED YOU. NOBODY WHATSOEVER. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS AT LEAST WE WILL SOON NO LONGER HAVE MANCHIN IN THE SENATE). And yes, Biden made some serious mistakes of his own, because he IS from an older generation and a different style of doing politics/different beliefs that no longer resonate with the younger segments of the electorate. But this old white Catholic guy at the age of almost 80 still managed to be the most progressive president ever, coming in at a moment of incredible domestic and international crisis and getting us safely to the other side, and all cynicism, criticizing, and caveating aside, he deserves an incredible amount of credit for that. I mean that absolutely, and I am very grateful.

As I said, willingly relinquishing that power takes guts, and when Biden saw the writing on the wall that he had to sacrifice himself, he took his time, he didn't jump too early, and he didn't jump too late. On the most basic level, it becomes a hell of a lot easier to make the "both parties are not the same" argument when one is running a (comparatively) young brown woman and the other is still running their loathed felonious old demented orange traitor. Most Americans are not plugged into policy minutiae and details. They look at Biden-Trump, they see two old white guys. When you take one of those old white guys away (who goes in a self-sacrificially heroic manner and in sharp contrast with the coup-happy fascist) and put Kamala Harris in there instead, it generates an obvious jolt. People can see for themselves that there is a real difference that doesn't rely on closely reading news and tracking complex policy, because as noted, most Americans simply don't. The brown first-generation American daughter of brown immigrants is a quantifiably different story from "old white guy career politician," which for better or worse is how Biden was seen, especially the old part. We needed that establishment expertise to beat Trump in 2020; I still think Biden is the only one who could have done it, and as noted, we owe him a great debt for doing so.

However.... 2024 is not 2020, and it is not 2016. There has been this HUGE and unbelievable swing to Kamala because she represents the antithesis of what the last eight years of Trump-induced anger, fear, panic, chaos, and hatred has stirred up. That's why people are so ready to rally around her, just as they were (I daresay) around Obama in 2008, after the exhaustion, chaos, war, and mounting economic misery of Bush. Trump has been out of office for the last four years, but his shadow over the American political landscape has been omnipresent. Now people know that we finally have a real chance at getting rid of him forever, and just as Biden was uniquely positioned to capitalize on that in 2020, so Harris is now. Which is why, however tough it will be, she has a real shot at winning. I can guarantee the Republicans know that, and are shit scared. Because the Black Lady Army of Democracy has indeed arrived in force to Get This Shit Done and I don't know about you, but I found that incalculably comforting:

Yikes! All lined up for Kamala pic.twitter.com/Dt4OCDp7WX

— Alex Cole (@acnewsitics) July 24, 2024

This, at the most basic level, is what scares fascists the most, it's exactly what we need now, and what Harris is uniquely positioned to mobilize, along with her gangbusters appeal to young voters:

This is the energy we need. This is what Biden saw and planned for and which he launched us into, and where all that experience and age paid off. This is why people, even people otherwise disengaged, disillusioned, or checked out of the tedious and mind-numbering drudgery and depression of American politics, are responding to it. Because it's easy to understand, it offers hope, and it tells a very simple story that is nonetheless long overdue:

Thanks so much, Joe. Go absolutely waste that orange fucker, Kamala. We got your back.

[hedgehog-moss]

(There is blood pictured at the end of this post) (well, 1 drop) (don't worry it's mine, not some innocent creature's)

I found a dormouse in my kitchen today, just chilling on the ceiling above my head, watching me cook. Maybe even judging my cooking technique like Ratatouille. I only noticed its presence because there's a bunch of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling above the stove and at one point I heard a rustling, then a crunching noise.

It was eating my herbs.

As if they were a little snack I'd placed here for my dormouse friends. None of my other animals can walk on the ceiling, therefore any food that's near the ceiling must be an offering to the dormice. (I admit, that's sound logic.)

A dormouse family has been living in my walls since before I moved here—I should probably call it a dormouse dynasty, by now. Here's the first post I wrote about them, in 2019 ! The cats eat a lot of them (especially Morille, she loves dormice) but apparently not enough to make the key decision makers in this dormouse community decide that living in my house is more trouble than it's worth.

Every year when they hibernate and go quiet for eight months I have the renewed hope that this time the cats got rid of all of them, but the next spring they wake up and start scratching inside my walls in the middle of the night again. (Not only that's creepy, but it's so loud.)

Anyway, this dormouse, let's call him Alfred. I saw immediately which hole between two stones he'd crawled out of and the first thing I did was to stuff a salt shaker in there to block his escape route. Step 2 was to call for backup—I summoned Morille, and she came down from the living-room 2 seconds later (the cats know it's always good news when I call them to the kitchen while cooking.)

Alfred was panicking.

I grabbed a broom and started threatening him with it like an angry old woman in a cartoon. He tried to flee towards the ladder, but Morille was there. He tried to flee towards the door, but Morille was also there. He tried to hide on top of the fridge, and Morille happily lay siege to it, like my fridge was a Gallic oppidum on top of a hill and Morille was Caesar and his entire army.

Morille was having the time of her life.

But my kitchen door was ajar, and Alfred managed a heroic jump from the top of the fridge to the lintel, like a flying squirrel. He scurried out then grabbed hold of the climbing rose right above the door. When I got out and took this photo, he looked fairly stressed and pessimistic.

I didn't want him to climb the wall all the way to the eaves and go right back into my house, so I went back in to get my broom again, either to make him lose his grip and fall straight into Morille's gaping maw (sorry), or make him run away into the woods (inferior solution; they always find their way back, unless you take them very far away.)

(I used to trap dormice humanely then drive them 3km away to release them near the barn of a neighbour I disliked, but this neighbour has since moved. (Not because of my dormouse warfare, I swear.) There's also an abandoned house in the woods where I used to exile my prisoners, but after a while I started feeling silly driving around the countryside with dormice in the backseat, so I stopped trapping them (it really was a hassle) and just let the cats eat them.)

But Alfred is a combative and resourceful rodent. In the half-minute it took me to go back in and grab my broom, he laid a trap for me.

He ran along the stem of my climbing rose in such a way that his weight made it droop jussst enough to be now hanging at face level rather than above the door. So when I ran outside again with my broom, I was slapped in the face by a thorny rose plant. (For a minute I thought I was crying tears of blood, which seemed worrying, but it was just a scratch above my eye.) (I wish it could leave a tiny scar, so people will ask how I got it, and I will tell them about the mighty dormouse wielding a rose sword.)

I sent these pics to my brother hoping to get some sympathy, and he cropped & desaturated the one with the blood teardrop then sent it back with the comment "you look like an Evanescence song"

By this point I decided Alfred had won this battle. (Not the war, because it's almost autumn aka hibernation time so he probably found another gap between two stones and went right back inside. The war continues.) But this humble dormouse set a Saw trap to poke my eyes out the second I stepped outside my house and I respect that. I admire the way he used his environment to his advantage, and teamed up with my climbing rose to level the playing field (since I had teamed up with my cat first.) He has won the right to spend another winter inside my walls, curled up in my cosy wool insulation, dreaming of dried herbs, thwarted cats, and heroic skydiving from fridgetops.

Well played.

[syrupfog]

Modern au where Sanji, adopted off the streets by Zeff when he was ten, spent eight years convinced that when he turns eighteen Zeff is going to throw him out, say that he served his time and he wants Sanji gone. 

Then that doesn’t HAPPEN, and Sanji is afraid to ever bring it up.

He goes off to university expecting that when winter break comes he won’t have a bed to return to, and that makes him a little… erratic. Throwing himself into his classes to keep his scholarship but also working overtime to get money to afford a place to stay when he’s on break and in the summers, and overall just completely neglects human connection because he’s convinced he’s on his own. 

It’s probably a miracle Luffy finds him and forces friendship onto him, bringing his friends into Sanji’s space (His dorm roommate Gin dropped out in the first week so Sanji’s REALLY been alone). 

And with Luffy comes his asshole friend Zoro, who Sanji learns is ALSO adopted and he RESENTS him for it. Because Zoro is perfectly secure in his relationship with Mihawk— probably because he was adopted at such a young age. 

But Sanji doesn’t feel that security. He knows he’s beyond lucky to have been picked up by Zeff at all, knows he can’t keep asking for free handouts from him. It would be more than enough to be hired at the Baratie someday.

But Luffy pushes into his life and pushes Zoro in along with him, and one day manages to drag Sanji to an Actual Party after his shift in the canteen is done, and get him properly drunk for the first time maybe ever. 

Sanji is an angry AND weepy drunk.

He tries to fight Zoro (who can hold his alcohol just fine) then ends up collapsing on him in tears, yelling that it’s not FAIR that Zoro has everything he wants. Zoro assumes this means his three swords. He tells Sanji he’s not sharing.

Sanji sobs that his dad is going up abandon him, has probably already thrown his shit to the kerb. 

Zoro, in an oddly selfless (to Sanji’s eyes) act, says that Sanji’s old man can shove it, and if he’s really like that then he’s an asshole who doesn’t deserve Sanji anyway.

Then he says Sanji can come home with HIM for winter break. Perona always brings guests (boyfriends) home on holidays. 

And as drunk as Sanji is at the time, it’s a surprise he remembers it the next morning. 

But he does. 

And he had said yes, so… he can’t just back out now.

(Plus, free accommodations? Sanji’s meals right now are what he can sneak from the canteen while he works, he’s saving as much as possible to afford a place this summer without a co-signer)

So winter break comes and Sanji doesn’t even try to contact Zeff, just goes off with Zoro. It’s a little awkward but arguing with Zoro is almost relaxing at this point, familiar. And Perona is… well, all women are perfect. 

And then, and THEN—

He gets a call from Zeff. 

And Zeff is fucking PISSED at him. 

Because what does he MEAN he’s not coming home for winter hols? He didn’t even CALL TO SAY SO. WHAT THE HELL, EGGPLANT? 

And Sanji’s there in the Mihawk living room with his dad yelling loud enough for Zoro to hear and he yells back WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, OLD MAN? Because “I turned eighteen! I��m an adult! You don’t need to pretend to care about me anymore!” 

(Zoro isn’t even pretending not to listen, he’s staring) 

And Zeff yells that Sanji is “a pile of horse shit” and “of course I fucking care you shitty little dumbass, you think I’d just kick you out after going through hell to get you?” 

And Sanji’s in shock because he— he really thought— 

“What,” Zeff continues (he might as well be on speakerphone he’s so loud). He says, “you think that little of me, you shitty kid?” 

And Sanji says, “it’s not THAT, you’ve given me too damn much already! I don’t deserve all this shitty charity!” 

And that sets Zeff off about how it’s not charity when it’s his OWN KID

anyway. He yells a long time. Sanji sits there and takes it and does not make eye contact with Zoro until after he’s finally hung up. 

When he finally does, he says, “I guess I should go.” 

“What?” asks Zoro. “Why?” 

“I got you to invite me over out of pity when I apparently had a dad this whole time.” 

He’s so fucking embarrassed that Zoro heard all of that. 

Zoro rolls his eyes. “Fucking hell, Curly, I didn’t invite you over because I felt sorry for you.” 

Sanji squints. “Why the fuck else would you have?” He asks.

“I did it because I fucking like you and didn’t want you to be miserable. Also because Mihawk is always on my case about bringing home a boyfriend, he’s tired of meeting Perona’s weekly boy toys.” 

Sanji squints harder. “I’m not your boyfriend,” he says.

Zoro grins. “Not YET,” he says. 

Sanji feels incensed. “You can’t just—” 

Jumping to his feet, Zoro draws his swords from behind the sofa. “If I win this fight, you’re my boyfriend.” 

“Fucking DEAL,” Sanji says, clambering up out of his chair. “When I win, you’re going to have to ASK me on an ACTUAL DATE, FIRST.” 

The fight is a draw. 

They spend the rest of break arguing about how to start dating. 

Without the weight of the impending loss of the only family he’s known, Sanji spends spring classes more relaxed, happier, willing to give in to Luffy’s every whim (and he has many). 

Sanji goes home to Zeff in the spring, and he brings Zoro.

[dionysianivy]

𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 🍂🦇

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

November is a time for reflection, gratitude, and honoring both past and present as we move further into the year’s quiet. The energy this month feels grounded and calm, with the thin veil still offering a chance to connect with spirits and ancestors. November invites us to slow down, find stillness, and prepare ourselves for winter. It’s a perfect time for inner healing, letting go of old habits, and setting intentions for the colder months. The magic of November is gentle but strong, reminding us to appreciate what has come before, give thanks for what we have, and find peace in winter’s approach.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

Celebrations:

Samhain/Halloween: October 31 - November 1

All Souls Day: November 1

Witches' New Year: November 1

Thanksgiving: November 27

Planet:

Pluto

Flowers:

Peony, Chrysanthemum, Dahlia, White Lily, Marigold

Herbs/Plants:

Belladonna, Nutmeg, Star Anise, Wormwood, Mugwort, Coriander, Nettle, Patchouli, Hops, Allspice, Ginger, Rosemary, Fennel 

Tarot Cards:

The Death, Eight of Cups, Four of Swords

Fruits:

Apple, Pear, Cranberry, Pomegranate, Lemon 

Vegetables:

Cabbage, Squash, Pumpkin, Potatoes, Onions 

Deities:

Cerridwen, Astarte, Circe, Cernunnos, Bastet, The Morrigan, Sekhmet, Freyja, Hel, Maman, Holda, Osiris, Nephthys, Hecate, Hathor, Nicnevin

Colors:

Gold, Black, White, Purple, Dark Orange, Brown, Sage Green 

Runes:

Eihwaz, Algiz, Hagalaz, Ansuz 

Crystals:

Topaz, Citrine, Obsidian, Lapis Lazuli, Onyx, Tiger’s Eye, Amethyst, Cat’s Eye

Animals:

Bats, Owls, Sparrows, Ravens, Beavers, Deer, Hawks, Cats, Falcons, Dogs, Snakes, Crows 

Trees:

Pine, Yew, Cypress, Alder 

Symbols:

Bats, Turkey, Raven, Candles, Mushrooms, Fog, Pine Cones 

Magical Powers:

Transformation, Letting Go of the Past, Deity Work, Releasing, Cleansing, Protection, Winter Preparation, Gratitude, Health, Healing, Breaking Bad Habits, Spirit Communication, Prosperity 

ACTIVITIES TO DO

🦇 Reflect on and give thanks for all your achievements

🦇 Spend time with your loved ones ♡

🦇 Take time for deity work, now is a great time for connecting deeply

🦇 As the weather cools, embrace the coziness of your home and appreciate its comfort

🦇 Do protection and health spells

🦇 Light candles to honor and remember souls who have passed

🦇 Try shadow work

🦇 Find comfort in your own space and create a cozy atmosphere

🦇 Rest, recharge, and prepare for the colder months

🦇 Bake Pie

🦇 Express gratitude for all the blessings in your life

🦇 Collect acorns you find on walks and protect them through the cold months. You can either keep them as a charm come spring or return them to the earth

🦇 Complete any unfinished projects

🦇 Take time to develop and refine your magical skills

🦇 Honor Goddess Hecate on November 16th

🦇 Harvest the last of your garden’s bounty and preserve it for winter

🦇 Drink Wine

🦇 Make a scarecrow

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁

tip jar 🕸🧙‍♀️

[axelsagewrites]

Hello,

Can you write an ivar x reader where, as a child reader had a crush on ivar and followed him around. He ends up saying mean things about her to his brothers, not realizing she can hear him. He ends up realizing he has feelings for her but she ends up moving away. Years later, she returns, and she's extremely pretty. Ivars hoping to confess how he feels, but his brothers have also noticed how pretty she's become.

Ivar the Boneless*Shy

Pairing: Ivar x f!reader

Word count: 2081

Warnings: being a shy kid, ivar being bullied by his brothers, ivar being mean as a kid, jealousy, ragnarsson brothers hitting on reader, angst fluff

Masterlist here

As the daughter of a Viking warrior and earl you were expected to be tough and ferocious and rambunctious and all other Viking traits. However, at five years old you were shy, timid, and terrified of Kattegat. You were here with your father on ‘business’ and had been practically clinging to the backs of his legs since you arrived.

It was Ragnar who suggested his sons show you around. Ten-year-old Ubbe took charge of that, giving you a tour around Kattegat as you silently nodded along. Eight-year-old Hvitserk and seven-year-old Sigurd couldn’t have cared less you were there so long as you were quiet when following them all around.

Five-year-old Ivar was sceptical at first, being equally as silent as you. Eventually you ended up at the edge of the forest sat beside Ivar as you watched the older three ‘train’ sword fighting with sticks. Ivar was angrily stabbing the dirt with his stick and didn’t even notice when you wondered off. However, he looked with interest when you returned, what looked like a hundred picked flowers in your apron.

You sat back beside him, dumping the flowers on the ground as you began to fashion a flower crown. “What are you doing?” Ivar’s voice made you jump making him mumble, “Sorry,” as he shuffled to see what you were creating.

“Daisy chains,” you told him, and you sat in silence as he watched you turn the hundred little flowers into a perfectly crafted crown. The whole thing was oddly fascinating for Ivar. “How does it look?” you asked as you placed it on your head.

Ivar grinned, “I love it,” and a toothy smile appeared on your face, “what else can you do?”

Soon you began to play games in the dirt, carving tik tac toe into it with the stick he’d been using earlier. You were laughing away so oblivious you didn’t realise the older boys had gotten bored and wandered off till you heard something howl in the distance.

“Where did they go?” you asked panicked.

“They do that sometimes,” Ivar shrugged. He’d gotten used to his brothers’ antics, but he’d been so wrapped up in the game he hadn’t noticed this time, “We’ll be fine, don’t worry,” another howl, “Okay maybe worry a little,”

Unfortunately, still Ubbe had been the one to carry him here. Ivar tried to pull himself along but soon you were trying to pull him through the forest. “I hate this!” he pouted, trying to pull away.

“It’ll be easier if you’re still!” you snapped, pulling his arms harder in frustration. “Wait here,” you dropped him with a huff as you went to grab a fallen branch.

“What are you doing?”

“Use it like a walking stick,” you said, hooking your arm around his back like in a three-legged race.

“This wont work,” he huffed making you glare. Begrudgingly he tried the crutch and a small washed over his face in a few steps. “I’m walking!”

“You’re walking!” you gleefully joined in as you helped him out the Forrest as the sun began to set. More laughter followed you on the way home though you had no idea that Aslaug had already found his brothers and scolded them immensely when she realised, you’d both been left behind. The anger soon washed away as you and Ivar walked into view.

For the next few days, you and Ivar did everything together. You were essentially attached at the hip. One evening while playing inside the Lodbrok’s house due to the storm outside Aslaug called you to the other room to rebraid your now messy hair.

“Bye boys. Bye Ivar,” you grinned before running to join Aslaug, all shyness gone.

“Bye Ivar,” Hvitserk and Sigurd teased, blowing kisses at Ivar.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“Are you gonna marry her?”

“Please what girl wants to marry a cripple?”

“Have you kissed her yet?” even Ubbe joined in the teasing now and any semblance of calm was soon gone.

“No!” Ivar screeched. “I don’t even like her!”

“You’re right,” Ubbe smirked, “you love her,” more fake kissing noises came from the three of them.

“Do not!” another screech came from him. He hadn’t seen Aslaug stand from the other room to come see what the fuss was all about, nor did he see you by her ankles, “She’s ugly and weird and I hate her!”

“Ivar!” Aslaug’s voice was the only one louder than Ivar’s. You however didn’t even wait before turning on your heels and running out the house into the storm. “No, wait!” Aslaug tried to stop you, but your feet were too fast.

 You came burling up to your father, burying your head in his legs sobbing. “I want to go home. I hate it here. I hate it!” and for the rest of your trip which was thankfully only another day you clung to his side again. You vowed as you rode away, you’d never return.

-

The glares Ivar was getting from his mother could cut glass. “why would she play with you after all those things you said?” she hissed after pulling him aside.

“I didn’t mean it,” he mumbled, already on the verge of tears when you refused to play with him all day before leaving, “she wasn’t supposed to hear it,”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said it,”

-

Ivar was convinced you’d come back. a week later, maybe a month. Possibly a year. He kept changing the goal post when you never came. He got his hopes up at one point when he saw your father but was disappointed when he realised, you’d been allowed to stay home this time. The more years that passed the more he forgot.

He was shocked when he saw you again in the first time in over a decade. He almost didn’t recognise you at first, but you could say the same about him. You weren’t some shy, meek little girl anymore. You wore an infection smile, you laughed loudly, and you were downright gorgeous. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to notice.

Its all his brothers had been talking about since you arrived this morning. “I hope mother has them over for dinner tonight,” Hvirserk said as the boys practised their axe throwing, “See if she wants to catch up,” the way he wiggled his brow made Ivar want to throw his axe at him.

Especially when the other two joined in with their agreements. “Please as if you have a chance brother,” Ubbe smirked, flinging the axe and almost hitting the bullseye, “Girl like that needs a real man,”

With a growl Ivar flung his own axe into the bullseye, knocking Ubbe’s out of place in the process before dragging himself away before he sunk his next axe in someone’s eye. “Talk about someone with no chances,” he heard Sigurd laugh as he stalked away.

-

You didn’t come over for dinner that night like they’d all hoped but rather the next day they saw you in the hall as your fathers celebrated their latest decision to go raiding together. You’d came in later than most and eyes were drawn to you instantly.

“Red is defiantly her colour,” Hvitserk slurred beside him, already several ales in, “I’m going to talk to her,” he tried to stand but Ubbe put a hand on his shoulder.

He pushed him back into his seat, “Brother you’re drunk. You’ll scare her of. Allow me to welcome her,”

“Please if you don’t want to scare her, I should go,” Sigurd joined the protests.

None of them except Ivar whose eyes never left you had noticed you walking straight for them, “Hello boys. Long time no see,” you smiled, even sending a small one to Ivar which made him wonder if you’d forgotten the whole affair.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Ubbe grinned, going in for a hug that made Ivar want to rip his skin off, “You look so different,” he said as he pulled away.

“Good different,” Hvitserk jumped in, “I barely recognised you,”

“I thought you always looked beautiful but now you’re just- “Sigurd rambled as you awkwardly blushed praying for them to stop. “a woman now,”

“Thanks?” you said, glancing down at Ivar, “Ivar,” all he could do was nod in response, scared anything he said would make it worse. “Well, I need to say hello to my family. I’ll see you boys around,” oh gods how he’d fucked this up.

-

While many were still in the hall drinking there had been a bonfire lit in the village square that Ivar was now staring into blankly. He’d left the festivities a while ago though he knew he wouldn’t be missed. There were a few people sitting around the fire, most with ale in their hands or a woman on their arms being obnoxious. If his legs didn’t hurt, he’d go into the forest to get away from them all.

“Hey,” a small, timid voice came from behind him making him turn. “Can I sit?” it was like you were children again, him permanently silent and you scared to even move.

Ivar nodded before turning back to the fire as you moved to sit beside him. You sat in silence for a few moments, staring into the flames. The fire was a good excuse for why Ivar’s cheeks felt so hot, but he knew deep down it was because of you.

“How have you been- “

“I’m sorry,” the words came spluttering out his mouth before he could think, his head whipping round to face your shocked expression, “For everything I said. I didn’t mean it, but I said it and I hated myself for it,” he paused when you stayed silent, turning back to the flames, “I doubt you even remember it. It was so long ago,”

A moment passed before you spoke even quieter than before, “I remember,” the words made his heart shatter, “I used to hate you,” somehow it broke more.

“And now?”

You turned to him with a small smile, “Now I’m not five anymore,” a smile crept onto his own face, “Besides if I’m to move here ill need someone to keep me company,” you grinned, nudging his knee with your own.

“You’re moving here?”  Ivar felt his heart light up as you chuckled, nodding to confirm his glee. Then a sinking feeling hit him, “Did you tell my brothers yet?”

Ivar would be lying if he said the grimace on your face didn’t fill him with joy, “Not yet. You’re the only one of them who looked at my face the whole night,” you chuckled. He laughed but he felt his cheeks tinge pink, “They’re an interesting bunch, ill give them that. also, who’s Margaret?”

“What?” Ivar spluttered as you shrugged.

“Some girls told me to be careful after they saw me talking to Ubbe,”

He couldn’t help laughing a little, “Oh you’ve missed so much,”

“Good thing we’ve got plenty of time to catch up,” you grinned.

-

For the next week you were inseparable. Attached at the hip almost. It brought a smile to Aslaug face and a grimace to every boy your age. You’d both heard the subtle jabs about your closeness from his brothers, especially Sigurd, but somehow when you would put your hand on his clenched fist under the table, he felt his anger melt away.

You also seemed to be the only one who did not notice his legs. Right now, you were both sat by a tree on the edge of a lake as Ivar stared across the water and you worked daisies into your flower crown. “You’re improving,” he teased, seeing this one was in a much better state than your previous attempts.

“Please, id like to see you try,” you snorted, “You’re too rough to even make one chain,”

“I’m not rough with you,” he defended, and his heart melted at the small smile on your face.

“I know,” there was a breeze in the air, a slight chill that made you huddle closer, and no one else around to ruin the quiet. Ivar didn’t even protest when your head eventually made its way onto his shoulder, and you said nothing when his arm went around yours. For once everything was perfect. Especially when Ivar finally brought up the courage to say what he’d been thinking since the moment you reappeared in his life.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,”

Taglist Sign Up Here

General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @perla434 @selenestar78 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @urfavnoirette @randomstory56 @qardasngan @https-luvvia @im-the-fucking-lunar-prince @bryandechartisasmolbean @glorywielder101 @tiinkerbell @the-holy-pigeon @andreaxxx44

Vikings Taglist: @fleureeee @ellabellabus07 @youn-jo @batmandallyboy @retro-baby69 @lenasdmns @thelirofnorthlands @tessakate @hypocritic-trash-baby @ringpopdust @thefirebreather00 @sashadevil766 @eldritch-bunny-teeth @re-per @weasleytwins-41 @daughter-ofthe-forest @dreamspirit666 @sununicorn @vlynccx @goldenheart703 @huskyhunny @cathattery @moneypriestess @kanday @baby-w3-ar3-infinite @the-holy-pigeon @way-too-addicted-to-anime  @kanday @moneypriestess

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me | Series Index

graphic made for me by the gorgeous @writingsbychlo 💕

Summary: Set in Illyria when the Bat Boys are mere twenty-year-olds, Azriel has never explored intimacy and sex like his closest friends have. Reader is more than willing to help — not realising it will offset a series of events that will change life as they know it.

Series warnings: This series is strictly 18+, minors dni. There’s smut, violence, gore, trauma. Read with caution and take care 🫶🏻

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen (Finale)

Bonus Part (Fin x Reader)

The Practice On Me Playlist

Songs I had on repeat while writing this series, for anyone who’s interested!

Sit Down Beside Me by Patrick Watson

From The Start by Laufey

New Girl by FINNEAS

We Go Down Together by Dove Cameron & Khalid

February 3rd by Jorja Smith

She by Harry Styles

Angry Too by Lola Blanc

Afterthought by Joji & BENEE

Faded by Alan Walker

The Summoning by Sleep Token

Therefore I Am by Billie Eilish

Play With Fire by Sam Tinnesz & Yacht Money

Samurai Swords - Acoustic Version by Highasakite

My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

THE LONELIEST by Måneskin

King by Florence + The Machine

The Practice On Me Face Claims

A look at how I imagined our younger ACOTAR characters looked through this series (and my original characters)!

Azriel:

Rhysand:

Cassian:

Kaeda:

Mor:

Roza:

Fin:

[calliesmemes]

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“   I was born for shock value. ”

“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

[guzhufuren]

New posters, message, part of a soundtrack and information about upcoming chinese BL The General's Son, show from the director of Word of Honor

"Green mountains are hidden in the distance, the waters are far away, the bright moon is always shining, the world is full of happiness."

Genres: wuxia; revenge Number of episodes: 24 Episode runtime: 18 minutes

Lead actors: Li Kaiwen as Li Jianwei; Dong Zifan as Chen Xiaoxi

Director and executive producer: Ma Huagan (Word of Honor, The Legend of Anle, Sword Dynasty) Art director: Liu Jingping (Love and Redemption, A Dream of Splendor, Wonderland of Love) Screenwriter and chief producer: Zhou Shucheng Executive producers: Zhuo Zuoqing, Yang Qi Co-producers: Jiang Yuxin, Li Shike, Dong Xinyu Co-director: Wang Xue Producers: Jiang Zhengpeng, Liu Wei, Xu Heni Planning by: Luo Yuting, Luo Gaoqiang

Filming finished this June. Will not be broadcast in mainland China. Original script.

Synopsis: General Li's family were killed on New Year's Eve. Li Jianwei, the youngest son of the Li family, escaped death, but disguised himself as a courtesan and went to Wei Mountain to seek revenge. Chen Xiaoxi, the young master of Guigu, has a lively and eccentric personality, becomes increasingly close to Li Jianwei, who has tried his best to win him over. Chen Xiaoxi's sister, Xiao Hetao, is simple and kind. She discovers that Li Jianwei came for revenge, and dies to resolve the hatred between the two.

Characters:

Li Jianwei. Twenty years old, the youngest son of General Li Fei, he is loved by the whole family, standing like an orchid and a jade tree, smiling like the bright moon. He should have had a bright future, but his fate changed overnight. In order to get revenge, he went undercover to Weishan, enduring humiliation and patiently executing his plan step by step.

Chen Xiaoxi. At the age of twenty, we meet the young master of Weishan Guigu. He was born pure but had evil eyes. Under his lively and sunny appearance, his face looked like that of a devil's. In fact, he was rough but kind, and treated people with sincerity. Unfortunately, fate played a cruel joke on him and his mother died.

Xiao Hetao. At the age of seventeen, Chen Xiaoxi rescued a human child from a wolf pack. Innocent and romantic, she was very simple and naive. Gui Rong and others gave Xiao Hetao the purest and most innocent living environment, but she hoped to resolve the hatred of everyone with her own power.

Princess Qingyuan. Thirty-four years old, a graceful and elegant lady, smart and tenacious. She was in love with Chen Dawang when she was young. After Chen Dawang's death, she firmly refused marriage arranged by the magistrate's office and spent many years in Zhejiang. While helping Li Jianwei to take revenge, Qingyuan, the deputy envoy of the Chang'an Supervisor Zi Ke, has been trying to find out the truth about Jian Jishan from 20 years ago.

Chen Dawang. At the age of 38, we meet the leader of Guigu in Huishan. Twenty years ago, he was a major general in the Loyal and Brave Army led by Chen Weishan. Entrusted by the general, Chen Dawang and his party lived in seclusion in Guigu for twenty years, just to avenge the Loyal and Brave Army and reveal the truth to the world one day.

Sizhou. 24 years old, a descendant of the Loyal and Brave Army, he was a martial arts expert but became blind in two days. Because he was indebted to the Lord of Qingyuan, he stayed by his side and waited for investigation. While helping Li Jianwei to get his revenge, he also hoped to find out the truth of the old case of the Loyal and Brave Army from 20 years ago.

Wan Qianhong. Thirty-eight years old, owner of Baihua Villa, with mysterious martial arts and deceitful tricks. When she was young, she fell in love with Li Pu, who concealed his identity. Later, Li Xifei and Huang Jueda broke off all ties with Wan Qianhong. Since then, Wan Qianhong deeply hated Li Pu and all men in the world. Behind the hatred, Wan Qianhong missed her daughter so much that she mistakenly recognized Xiao Hetao as Zaotian's daughter. In the end, they ended up loving each other but not being able to be together.

Shi Tou. Eighteen years old, a good martial brother of Chen Xiaoxi, grew up in Jianweishan. He is the beloved son of Uncle Hua and Aunt Hua, with a simple and straightforward personality. He was happy and naive until Xiaohe died. The joy he did not even have time to express became the biggest regret in Shi Tou's life.

*text from informational brochures was converted with image to text online programs, translated through google translator and edited by me with some help of online dictionaries. i do not speak chinese, so there are most certainly mistakes in the text. purpose of this translation is to give you the general idea

[bvidzsoo]

Black Ocean

Black Ocean is a series of 8 connected oneshots happening in the same universe. Are you ready to dive in the lives of eight notorious Pirates known as Ateez?

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Ateez members x female readers

Status: finished

A/N: I will start a taglist, so if you're interested, please comment on this post! Because this is a multi-chaptered series of oneshots, the female readers will be given names which will be used only if they get mentioned in a different members oneshot. You can read them as stand-alones, however, some happenings from previous oneshots will be mentioned here and there, so everything will be connected still. (divider)

1.Park Seonghwa

◆Compass of our hearts

Summary: Park Seonghwa was an orphan. The day Captain Kim found him on the shore the only thing he had with himself in the little basket was a golden compass, his mother's name craved inside it. Seonghwa cherished it dearly and worked hard to find out where he belonged to. However, as a pirate, you make a lot of enemies and you decided to make Seonghwa yours the day you stole his compass. It was your first mistake, you messed with a feared pirate. Your second mistake was not realizing that Seonghwa would find you, and take his compass back as well. (Reader is called Kim Bora in the following oneshots.)

2.Choi Jongho

◆Lullaby of the seas

Summary: Choi Jongho could be described as a dreamer; he loved folklore and fairytales. His father was a sailor and often brought his son out on the sea with himself, thus they lived off of selling fish and pearls. Jongho was well raised and always kind, a very hard-working son, therefore it came as no surprise that he accepted the job offer of a mysterious pirate when his father's house got destroyed by a storm. Jongho was quiet and didn’t bother others, did his job very well and secretly fantasized about meeting a mermaid one day. There was one tiny problem though, the seas they sailed had no mermaids in them, only vicious sirens out for the blood of unassuming pirates and sailors. (Reader is called Sunmi in the following oneshots.)

3.Choi San

◆An Imprisoned Nightingale

Summary: Choi San was everything you needed him to be. A hunter? He’d hunt down anything for you. An assassin? You wanted someone dead, he’d do it. An inside man? That information you needed; he’d bring it to you. He was a mercenary. Ruthless, fearless, uncaring, unfeeling. All he dreamed of was money and power. Everyone who heard his name feared him, people stepped aside on a busy road for him, women never approached him out of fear of being captured and then sold by him. You loved singing, despite working as a waitress, you dreamed of performing on a stage one day. Your whole life you've worked hard, knowing that one day you'll be discovered and your life would change; you'd become a performer for the wealthy. And your life did change, but instead, you became a prisoner, soon to be sold off by nobody else than Choi San. (Reader is called Im Ara in the following oneshots.)

4.Kim Hongjoong

◆The Nightfury

Summary: When Captain Kim died Hongjoong was only fifteen years old. He couldn't let his father's name go in vain, he took over the ship and became the next Captain Kim, better known as The Slayer. Everyone feared Hongjoong and his crew, Ateez. Everyone except you. You met in an Inn when you both were younger and tricked him into threatening an innocent man, and then you robbed him. You thought it was funny how such a powerful and feared man was so easy to play with, so you started your little game of sabotaging Hongjoong's affairs, unknowing that you were playing with fire. Would The Nightfury or The Slayer win once their swords clashed against each other? (Reader is called Lee Yuri in the following oneshots.)

5.Jeong Yunho

◆Irrevocable Love

Summary: Jeong Yunho was always protective of what was his. After his mother's death he stopped living a happy life, his father an alcoholic, his best friend was his only hope. The two of you had grown up together and you couldn't imagine living your life without Yunho, so when he tried to sneak onto the Pirate ship and leave without you, you were beyond hurt. Yunho only wanted to protect you, but he wasn't going anywhere without you. And so, the two of you joined Ateez on their adventures, starting your own love story at the same time. (Reader is called Bae Taeri in the following oneshots.)

6.Kang Yeosang

◆Salty tears, agog whispers

Summary: Kang Yeosang was forced to flee from his once very familiar life as he killed his father. He didn't mean to do it, but he harmed his mother and Yeosang just couldn't sit and watch anymore. You have never had an easy life. You were sold off at a young age, then bought, then sold, then bought again and sold again. It was a neverending cycle. You were just a toy for men to use and then disregard of; you wanted to disappear. And one man almost granted your wish, he killed you, or so he thought...and so did you. But an angel, a kind-hearted man, saved you from your terrible fate. You found a family, just like he did so many years ago. Yeosang was your angel. (Reader is called Jung Hana in the following oneshots.)

7.Jung Wooyoung

◆Heavy is the head that wears the crown

Summary: Jung Wooyoung was a prince. Raised to be a King one day. Except that nobody asked him if he wanted to become one, it was his duty. Wooyoung thought he'd be able to travel the world, sail out and go on adventures, however that is just not how his story was written. So, one day, when he was only thirteen years old, he decided to take the pen in his own hands and change his own story. He became a Pirate. You, you were also a princess, soon to become Queen. Your groom disappeared when the two of you were thirteen and you figured you wouldn't get married now, so there was no reason to stay at your castle and live a boring life. You ran away, living quietly and humbly. That is, until Wooyoung came stumbling through your living room door. (Reader is called Oh Haneul in the following oneshots.)

8.Song Mingi

◆Fine Line Of Our Worlds

Summary: Song Mingi didn't choose to become a Pirate, but after getting saved by the crew, he decided to stay. Nobody at home would miss him, they didn't like him much. However, he would miss his riches dearly, teeth always aching for gold and money. He was a little kleptomaniac, it's mostly why he was punished so often back at home. But here, with Ateez, he was free to do whatever and he loved the idea. You were also rich, very rich. You had ties to the royal family, but never said much about it since it was due to your mother's bloodline, who died giving birth to you. You were daddy's little girl, always getting whatever you wanted, never reprimanded for anything. But your life was boring, you were closed inside your mansion's walls all day long and the only people you could torment to have fun were your maids, who grew tired of your antics. Let's not forget the fact that you also loved stealing. It started out as a little talent of yours when you were just a child, but growing up you realized it became a very unconscious habit. And one night, Mingi seemed to come into your life just at the right moment, sweeping your off your feet, quite literally, and taking you onto a Pirate ship, your fates interlacing forever. (Reader is called Yoon Areum in the following oneshots.)

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

funniest disney history facts i can think of atm

literally EVERYBODY thought the lion king was gonna flop and pocahontas would be their greatest movie ever made. people begged to ditch lion king and work on pocahontas.

the reason robin hood ends so abruptly is that there was an actual ending planned and storyboarded but the crew spent too long arguing about everyone’s fursonas to finish animating it

madam mim was way less comedic in the original book but because her character was too similar to maleficent (who was in their latest film at the time), the sword and the stone crew decided to differentiate her by making her fucking hilarious

when making a goofy movie, jeffrey katzenberg (studio chairman at the time) told bill farmer to give goofy “a normal voice.” farmer, who had been voicing goofy for eight years at that point, including in the goof troop show that a goofy movie was a sequel to, was very confused. after making an attempt they decided to scrap that note completely.

as of march 2023, farmer is still voicing goofy, and tony anselmo has been voicing donald since 1986. the 2017 reboot of ducktales, which was slated as “wanting to do for donald what goofy movie did for goofy,” featured both actors as those characters; they had also been doing the voices for the original ducktales and goof troop/goofy movie. all the times goofy and donald interact in the 2017 ducktales however, donald was voiced by guest star don cheadle as a joke

current voice of mickey mouse bret iwan has stated that he has attempted to play kingdom hearts and did not do well

disneyland’s current world of color halloween overlay features a plot that is basically “the disney villains simultaneously adopt a goth kid” and i love it

people will make jokes about “well math says that the beast would’ve been 11 when he was cursed” well that was actually the original intent, but a flashback scene of baby beast was scrapped because he looked “too much like eddie munster”

when disney sent a representative to pixar to check on toy story production, she was like “this is all great! what style of music are you thinking” and they were like “for what” “for the songs” “we uh. we weren’t gonna have. any songs” and she went dead silent and then went “i have to make a call” and left the room

saludos amigos and the three caballeros were made as ww2 propaganda. the government commissioned disney to make movies to make latin america like them so that they wouldnt side with the nazis and provide them an in to invade, and latin america really liked donald duck so

saludos amigos was apparently the first time many usamericans realized that latin american people were like. people. film historian alfred charles richard jr said that the film “did more to cement a community of interest between peoples of the americas in a few months than the state department had in fifty years”

while latin america generally liked both films, chilean cartoonist rené rios boettiger fucking hated the chilean segment of saludos amigos, seeing the main character of pedro the plane as a weakass bitch, so in response he created condorito, the most popular comic character in all of latin america

disney wanted to adapt ts eliot’s old possum’s book of practical cats. his widow adamantly refused, and then sold the rights to andrew lloyd webber bc he wanted to make it sexy and she said “tom would’ve liked that”

in case you haven’t seen the defunctland, walt disney wanted epcot to be a futuristic utopia where he was basically the dictator. then he died so they just made it another theme park

speaking of defunctland the first defunctland video was on disneyworld’s alien attraction and please watch it. please it’s so funny

after the huge failure of the black cauldron disney was going to shut down its animation department. the department tried to convince them to keep them alive by showing them the one scene they had finished for the next movie– the mouse burlesque from the great mouse detective. it worked

the only attraction the black cauldron ever got was in tokyo disneyland where they put a tour under cinderella’s castle where everyone had to escape the disney villains trying to kill them, only to end at the horned king and the cauldron, who would try to sacrifice them to satan. this tour was popular but was closed in the early 2000s as the tunnels didn’t fit earthquake regulations and i want it in disneyworld so bad

walt disney once referred to his unionizing workers, led by goofy’s creator art babbitt, as “commie sons of bitches,” and i want a mickey build-a-bear that calls me a commie son-of-a-bitch whenever i squeeze its paw

[thewriterwithnoplan]

THE HIGHEST TOWER (1/2)

Summary: As a Princess of the Realm the chance to escape political marriage and abscond with your Promised was beyond anything you could wish for. When the time is right, your dragon will lead you to them and your mother will support your union. In return, you must do all you can to protect her claim, even if you must do so from within the very heart of the Greens.

Soulmate AU: Your animal familiar leads you to your soulmate.

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Reader (eventual), Aemond Targaryen x Reader (mentioned)

Word Count: 4296

Warnings: Canon typical warnings, swearing, just general character awfulness, some espionage, canon divergence, my first time writing for hotd.

Masterlist

You had lived the better part of eight and ten years in the Red Keep. The daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen handed off to the Queen like some paltry trinket. The King’s first and final word on the matter of his granddaughter. Thrust carelessly into Alicent’s care at the fresh age of ten, a peace offering and a trade for Lucerys’ life. You scarcely remembered life beyond the borders of the castle. Only that one moment your brother's life had been under threat and the next yours was all but forfeit.

Your mother had clasped the back of your neck, pulled you toward her and begged her father for mercy. You who had not even been in the room when Aemond had lost his eye, lost to your own midnight flight atop dragon back. And then the curtain of Rhaneyra’s hair parted, and from over her shoulder Daemon met your eyes. For a single poignant moment, he stared and then a smirk broke across his face as if he knew.

Knew that you were not the innocent that your mother would have the King believe you to be. Knew that your midnight rendezvous with your dragon at the exact moment of Vhagar’s claiming was not mere coincidence. Your intentions had been innocent at first. A trip to the kitchen for a cup of milk which you would warm on the stove – a feat the late Sir Harwin Strong had taught you. Past your brothers’ room, your mother’s room, the servants' quarters and a balcony overlooking the beach. And then you had seen him. Aemond scaling your cousin’s dragon. And that just wouldn’t do.

Targaryens – true Targaryens who did not cower under the cover of darkness – needed their dragons if they had any hope of finding their Promised. Your cousin, Baela who always shared her sweets and let you borrow her wooden sword, deserved the chance to meet her Promised in the wake of her mother’s death. The man or woman that Vhagar would lead her to when the Old Gods saw fit. In the game of thrones when Targearyens already found so few chances for happiness, how could Aemond strip his cousin of her chance at true love? True, as an eldest daughter Baela’s future husband was most certainly decided – likely one of your brothers. But you were certain that Jacaerys or Lucerys would be understanding and gracious when the time came for Baela to claim her Promised, as she would be when the time came for her Lord-Husband. Such was the way of things. At least for the lucky.

Imagining your dragon, Laesuvion, claimed by another and leaving you with no guide to your Gods-given Promised made you feel ill. And so, you set out on bare, hurried feet to find and mount Laesuvion. You were a Targaryen born of the blood of dragons, of true Valyrian features. Vhagar was your cousin’s dragon by right and it was your duty to protect that claim. She was a formidable, indomitable beast but shackled with a new rider on his first flight. If you had one chance to disrupt the yet fragile bond being formed by dragon and rider, it was to dislodge the green boy and send him toppling toward the sea.

Laesuvion had hatched for you in your cradle. He was much younger and smaller than Vhagar but all the faster. It would be no trouble to fell your traitorous cousin. The difficulty became disguising the shock of white scales along the elongated arch of Laesuvion’s neck whilst searching for Vhagar’s camouflaged breadth.

“Aderī Laesuvion. Dokimarvose.” (Quickly Laesuvion. Focus.) You urged him.

Despite your efforts, you only caught sight of them twice. Once among the clouds, though you were sure Aemond got a greater view of you than you did him. And again, as Vhagar was returning to land Driftmark. Your hunt had been unsuccessful. But you had been sure no one would suspect you of such vengeful intent toward your uncle. Except perhaps Daemon.

“It is a fair price, Rhaenyra,” Daemon’s smirk was cunning, “They will not harm her.”

The betrayal on your mother's face heated your blood. How dare he tell her what to do? Your mother, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne. This man who was no one, husband of no one, Prince of nowhere, heir of nothing. Who was he to command your mother? And now, to step toward you and attempt to pry you away from her. So close you could almost-

Almost hear the two of them whispering. To each other. To you.

“Think.” Daemon hissed, “They will demand her for Aemond sooner or later.”

“She is my only daughter.”

“She will still be your daughter in the Red Keep.” He kept up the pretence of fighting your mother, despite her arms having gone lax around you. “Not a bastard. Not a bargaining chip. Your daughter. At the heart of the greens.”

“She is a child.”

“A Targaryen child.”

“She is my child.”

“Then let her prove it.”

“Mother,” You warbled. “I don’t want to go.”

“Tala.” Daemon shifted, and his eyes met yours again as if you should know this word. You did not. “You will go. Make your mother proud. Learn at court. Find those who support her claim and those who will side with the Hightowers. You are weak and a girl, they will not suspect you. When the time comes you will be our most valuable weapon.”

“But I want to go home, Kepa.” (Father or paternal uncle)

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Rhaenyra held your face and brushed away your tears. “You will.”

“’Nyra.” Daemon warned.

“But not today.” She kissed each of your cheeks. “Today you must be strong for me. You must be strong for your brothers. You must do as Daemon says, we must keep them happy.”

And then your mother pulled you toward her firmly, pressed her lips to your ear and whispered a promise. A reward should you embark on this mission. Beyond sweets and silk dresses and extra time on Laesuvion. Beyond anything you had ever been promised or ever dreamed of asking for. Do this for your mother and she would exempt you from the chains of political marriage that would shackle each of your brothers. There was no guarantee you would be lucky like your brothers, married to one who would understand. But do this and you could have your Promised under the eyes of the Seven, the Old Gods, and the traditions of old Valyria itself. Even at 10, you knew that for a Princess and a second-born, there was no greater boon.

So, you did what you had to do for your one shot to truly be with your Promised. You squared your shoulders, kissed your mother's cheek, and stumbled toward Queen Alicent. She gripped you by the shoulder, tucked you into the folds of her skirt, and stared cruelly down her nose at your mother.

“Now I will have no more fighting.” Said the King and having satisfied his wife for the first time in their long marriage, he ambled off to bed.

As the crowd dispersed, Sir Criston Cole flanked the Queen and as a unit, the three of you marched from the room. Your mother, scarcely held together in Daemon’s embrace, gave one last warbling cry as you passed the threshold and disappeared, not to be seen again for nine long years.

You were kept that night in the Queen’s own quarters to thwart rescue or escape. Behind a bolted door and no less than three kings’ guards. And yet, that morning, upon waking with puffy eyes from silent tears and aching limbs from the harsh sitting room sofa, you found something that had not been there before.

A gift from Daemond, most assuredly, tucked under the pillow you had slept on. The handle was perhaps an inch too long for your small age, but the blade was curved and wicked sharp and would require little finesse to cause harm. Inlaid in the pommel was a single ruby, the size of your thumb and wonderfully smooth. Carved into the cross-guard flowing Valyrian script read valar morghūlis. (All men must die.)

You would call the dagger gaomilaksir, duty. You would carry it as a reminder of the promises you and your mother had made one another. One day, as Daemon had said, you would become her greatest weapon.

There had been few bright spots in your life as the Queen’s ward. So, few in fact, that you could count them on one hand.

One.

You could not fly. Such a thing would only encourage escape back to Dragonstone and your mother. But you could visit Laesuvion and watch him sweep through the clouds. He had grown much in your teenage years. Still lithe in build and elegant in frame, but more angular like an arrow strung tight. He did not take to Kings Landing, not in all your years trapped there. So used to the comfort of Dragonstone and your family’s own dragons, he often abandoned the Dragonpit entirely. Kept tethered to the Keep by your presence alone.

“Where is Laesuvion?” You were just shy of ten and two when you approached the Dragonkeeper Acolyte.

“Hunting, my lady.” He knocked his quarterstaff against the ground. “He flew north not three hours ago.”

“Do you not offer him food?”

The keeper lowered his head, “He refuses it, my lady.”

“Offer him better.”

“We give him our very best, lady. He is a magnificent but stubborn creature.”

“He is a dragon, not a creature.” You conjured up a playful grin. “And I am a princess, not a lady.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” The Acolyte blustered, “Shall I inform you upon his return?”

“That won’t be necessary,” You strode to his side and plunked yourself down to lean against the stone entrance. “I shall wait for his return here.”

And so, you did. Silently, for the better part of twenty minutes as the Acolyte threw furtive glances your way.

Until finally, “Truly, my lady. Your Highness. He could be hours still.”

Wonderful. You thought and cast a dazzling grin up at him. “Perhaps you ought to keep me better company then.”

And so, you began your mission. You charm the Dragonkeepers – Acolyte and Elder, all seventy-seven of them – who knew the princes and their dragons, their strengths and weaknesses. You befriend the maids, the scullery, the wet nurses, and the servants they bunk with. Piece by piece, inch by inch, you win back your mother's share of Kings Landing.

Two.

Strange though she was, your Aunt Heleana always welcomed you into her chambers. In your shared youth, she always had a critter clutched between her hands as if it were the most precious thing she owned. You are four and ten, a year younger than your aunt when she is forced to split her time between her menagerie of insects and the chubby masses of her twin babes.

“The young prince has lungs,” You smiled at Heleana as the wet nurse rocked a wailing Jaehaerys. “He will make glorious speeches when he is grown.”

“Only one.” She examined the creature in her hands. Today she favoured a centipede, passing Jaehaera onto you.

You had long since learned to ignore her ramblings, “The sweet Princess must be the wordsmith, then.”

“The fourth in an age.” Heleana startled as if only just noticing your presence. “Apologies, Hāedar. You wished to speak?” (Younger female sibling or cousin)

“No apologies necessary, Mandia.” (Older female sibling or cousin). The Valyrian word tasted foul. You had your own siblings on Dragonstone, those whom you had been stolen from and those whom you had yet to meet. But Heleana liked it when you pretended that you were not a prisoner, that you were her mother’s daughter and not her forcibly attained ward. And so you swallowed it with a smile, “Might we talk privately?”

Heleana startled again as she turned to the wet nurse. “Take the children to the nursery, Bria.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Bria gave an awkward curtsy, shuffled the still-wailing Jaehaerys to one side and received Jaehaera from your arms. Heleana turned to you expectantly as the trio disappeared through a side door.

“It is a sensitive matter I am afraid,” You eyed the centipede as it escaped her hands and crawled across her skirts. “I do not wish to cause offence.”

Heleana’s eyes pinched at the corners, “It is not such a terrible burden – to be a wife. Mostly he ignores you.”

“You misunderstand me,” You hurried. “I only wished to speak of your grandfather.”

“Not my brother?”

“Do you wish to speak of your husband?”

“No,” Heleana gave you a quizzical look. “I speak of Aemond, who will be your husband.”

“Aemond?” Your uncle who’s selfishness had trapped you here. One of Alicent’s precious children married to her living doll. The thought would have been hysterical were it not so frightening. Surely not.

“It is the natural progression of things. I was given to Aegon and now you to Aemond.” Heleana’s attention returned to the centipede. “One pairing to strengthen our house, another to mend its bonds. So says grandfather.”

“Oh Mandia. I am entrusted to your mother. There need be no marriage to bring me into the fold. We are family.” 

“Yes. So says mother.” Heleana stared. Not so blind as she seemed. “But grandfather always gets what he wants.”

And so, you are four years into your mission, having sat patiently by the Queen's side. Having listened and learned and noted those your mother can count on. Four years in and the time to begin quietly making moves had arrived with a head start from your oblivious Aunt.

But then you see the centipede crawl from her hands again and writhe across her skirt. And you think maybe Heleana’s warnings have more to do with where the critter is trying to lead her than it has to do with you.

Three.

It took you longer than you would like to admit to worm your way into Otto Hightower’s confidences – if there were such a thing.

You had quickly learned in your first year at the Keep that Alicent feared her father, distrustful of his greed and power lust. Not much unlike yourself, she had been sent into the greedy hands of a different house in pursuit of the Iron Throne. Were Otto not so blinded by his ambitions you might have begun to worry that Daemon’s strategy might ring familiar. But Lord Hightower’s strength was also his greatest weakness. So careful in his scheming, gently coaxing his will unto others, moving his pawns about the board, sacrificing all but himself, he could not see his tactics turned against him. Beyond your connection to Rhaenyra, you barely registered as a piece in the game.

Daemon had been right. Weak and a girl and not a threat. Not yet.

So, you worked tirelessly to endear yourself to Alicent. Just as you learned from her, you began to teach in turn. When you are in the room Otto Hightower dares not spin his lies about succession. When you appear around corners in search of your Queen-mother talk of hastening the king's condition ceases. When you are near, Alicent is safe. She begins to wear you like the expensive accessory you are, a decorative shield.

Hours trailing your Queen-mother to and from meetings of the small council, waiting patiently at her side as she sat in place of the King. Serving wine to fat and foolish lords.

And then finally, on the eve of your ten and fifth nameday, the Queen brings you along to the Hand's Tower.

“Father.” She greets.

“Alicent,” Otto brings you to his office, where a tea set for two lays steaming. “I see you have brought your shadow.”

The Queen barely glances your way as you serve her tea and then her father’s, before retreating to stand at her shoulder. She glares across her father’s desk, “This does concern her.”

“She is approaching her fifteenth year, two since her first blood. Time has well arrived for her to marry,” He stares directly at you then, “Have you any fondness for your uncle, Princess?”

“My lord, the Princes and I are often kept busy by our duties.” Your friends among the servants have divulged their schedules. You stay firmly away from drunken Aegon and selfish Aemond, remaining civil only with young Daeron.

“You must see reason.” Alicent implores her father. “They hold no affection for one another. Aegon and Heleana have already wed in the name of strengthening our family. To marry her would serve only to anger Rhaenyra.”

“And to bind her eldest daughter to us.” Interesting that he would say so openly in front of you. Perhaps you have been more effective in playing a Green than you had thought. “Aemond will be a good husband to her.”

“I have no doubt,” Alicent says and as silence stretches you suspect she is losing conviction; you have not saved her this time.

You clear your throat delicately, “If I may?”

“Of course, sweet pet.” Alicent reaches out to fuss with your hair. She likes it long and keeps its length to your hip despite how cumbersome it can be. Short hair is unbecoming, she claims.

You look to Otto in false deference, “My lord?”

“Very well.”

“I think,” You begin carefully. “Aemond and I may be of better use to you.”

“And how might that be?” He is condescending but you have his attention.

“When the time comes that grandsire passes on, I suspect the lords of the realm will need cause to back a claim to the Iron Throne. My Septa says that peace such as we have seen under his rule may bring unrest. I do not doubt that Aemond will make a fine and just husband. All I mean is that mayhaps it would be wise to keep us unwed until we may serve a greater purpose.”

No mention of your mother nor their ill-begotten plan for Aegon. Hightower's methods played against him.

“And when the time comes you will do this?” He demands.

“It is my duty to my house.”

He tilts his head as a predatory bird might. “You must swear it, to myself and to your Queen, upon your young brothers.”

To pause would mislay your ruse. To hesitate would be to sign your life away to Aemond Targaryen.

“I swear it, upon the lives of my brothers.”

He considered you for a moment, and then his daughter.

“You have done well with her, Alicent.” Your Queen-mother sighs as Otto Hightower stands. “Enjoy your tea, I have matters to attend to elsewhere. Perhaps you will be of more use than we originally suspected, Princess.”

Your first true victory. You will not be shackled to the Keep; you will be kept safe until your mother comes for you. Until such a time that you and Laesuvion can seek out your Promised.

Four.

The Queen held a strange fondness for you. Platinum-haired and purple-eyed, the spitting image of the Realm’s delight and perhaps the only trueborn among your siblings. She took pains to brush and braid your hair, dress you in green and flout you at court. Her perfect tamed Targaryen. Who would eat from her hand, take tea by her side, sit prim and silent as her Queen-mother decorated her. You were her walking-talking glimmering triumph over Rhaenyra.

At ten, Alicent’s obsession stole you from your mother. At ten and four, it protected you from a hasty marriage. And now, at ten and eight, it was your path to freedom.

“Mother?”

Oh, how Alicent loved it when you called her that. One more thing ripped from Rhaenyra’s thieving hands. Alicent pushed into your room with a tired facsimile of a smile and took the seat across from you by the roaring hearth.  

“My sweet pet.” She was dressed head to toe in full regalia. “I am so sorry to have missed you today.”

You tucked a piece of scrap paper into the book you had been reading, buying yourself time to school your features into innocent confusion. “As am I. My door has been locked. I am sorry I could not come to you.”

“A precaution – one that I fought.” Alicent reached for your hair, running her fingers through its length. “But we cannot trust you to betray your mother. Regardless of the years you have spent in our care.”

“I do not understand, mother.” But you do.

“Your grandsire is dead.”

You close your eyes, “Aegon is king.”

“Yes.”

“You did not wish for this.”

“I wish Viserys were still a living corpse. That he would outlive us all so that none could claim his cursed throne. Not Aegon. Not Rhaenyra. Not my father.”

“That is not a solution.”

She tugs at your hair harshly, “Foolish pet, there is none.”

You blink harshly. Your eyes scarcely holding back tears. For the first time since you left your mother's embrace, you are truly scared. No longer are you the meek girl who walks in the Queen’s shadow. Given liberties and protection in a twisted echo of her love for Rhaenyra. You are a living embodiment of what House Targaryen will be to House Hightower. A pretty little puppet kept from your dragon, cloistered away like some trophy, scrambling for a scrap of power to delude yourself that you have some control.

“What is to become of our house?” You whisper.

“Your mother and Prince Daemon remain on Dragonstone. No blood has yet been shed.” Alicent brushed your hair softly behind one ear. “We have sent Aemond to Storm’s End to do as you once suggested. To offer himself to one of the Baratheon girls, that Lord Borros might see reason and acknowledge Aegon as rightful King.”

Good, there were those beyond the Keep who remained steadfast and loyal. It was time to return to your mother, then. To tell her all you had learned these last eight years. To name her allies and set Daemon loose upon her foes. Now was the time.

“What of my brothers?”

Alicent leant back, “Scouts have spotted Vermax flying north likely as an envoy to rally support among the lords.”

“How could they have mobilized so quickly? Was Aegon not crowned mere hours ago?”

“He was, indeed.” Alicent’s gazed into the fire. “The Lady Rhaenys was not so welcoming of solitude as you have been.”

“She has gone to Dragonstone?”

“She has.”

“And no one has come for me?”

“They have not.”

For a moment you each stared listlessly into the hearth. When Alicent shifts back to face you, she has a letter clutched in her hand. It is crisp and of fine quality but most strikingly, stamped with the King’s seal.

“I am under no delusions,” Alicent says softly, mournfully. “You can no more contest your mother's claim than I can Aegon’s. We are matching pieces in this game, I think.”

Your fear swells, “Mother.”

“Please, my sweet girl.” She smooths the hair atop your head. “You must do me one last favour as my ward.”

“I don’t understand.”

She presses the letter into your hands. “Jacaerys will fly first to the Vale, to treat with House Arryn and then to Winterfell. You will take this and beat him there. You will do as you swore to do those years ago.”

“I ca–”

“Listen!” She jerked you by your shoulders. “You must listen. You will wed Lord Stark. He is as fine a match as any. The north is loyal to Rhaenyra and will remain steadfast, you will be well treated. You must go, with this missive from the King, his final wish to send you north to snow and safety. In return for your hand, they will take no part in the fighting, they will protect you as their own, until such a time that the victor is crowned. Do you understand me, pet?”

“The King never cared for me.” You said foolishly.

“And yet, with his dying breath, he spoke of you and of Aegon. That you would carry his legacy, that you would see out his dream to the North. That Prince Aegon was Promised to this kingdom. You must believe me. You must do this for your grandsire.”

“I do believe you mother.” She was deluded. “I will do what must be done.”

Alicent has offered you one gilded cage for another. You will not be fool enough to fall into this one. You will find Laesuvion and be gone in the dead of night. You tuck the King’s missive into your book and smile at the Queen.

“Shall we call for tea, mother? You have much to tell me. I hear I have missed a coronation.”

Five.

You shape your fifth and final joy as the Queen Alicent’s Ward whilst escaping her clutches. You take three sharp detours on your path to the Dragonpit. First, to the chamber of the small council where you snatch the King's ball of quartz, you will make a gift of this to your mother. Then to the creche where the Keeper’s turned a blind eye as you pilfered three precious Dragon eggs. Finally, you find yourself ascending the steps of the Lord Hand’s Tower. To take the Dowager Queen from the Greens would be the greatest gift to your mother and her cause. But Alicent, despite her many faults, had been as kind to you as one might be toward a favourite pet. And so you do as a pet would – you do not bite the hand that fed you. Instead, you do both your Queen-mother and the woman that birthed you, a favour. You find Otto Hightower asleep in his study and you pass onto him your final gift from Daemon Targaryen.

You leave gaomilaksir in the heart of Hightower as you flee north, your duty complete.

(Part 2 : The Winter Keep)

[yourplayersaidwhat]

Today’s pathfinder module ran for eight hours. Highlights include:

Aracanist: “Can I linguistics him?”

GM: “What?”

Arcanist: “Y’know, can I, like, say calm down in the soothingest languages I know?”

Orc Fighter: “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

Arcanist: “I know 84 languages, that’s gotta count for something!”

GM: “Y’know what, sure, roll.”

Arcanist: “That’s an eight, so… thirty-two.”

GM: “… Yeah, he calms down, somehow it works.”

-

Orc Fighter, OOC (about an NPC who bites people): “Clearly, his name is Bitey McBiteface.”

-

Bitey McBiteface: “You must kill me!”

Arcanist: “Uh, quick question about the area, is there a National Suicide Prevention Line?”

-

Orc Fighter: *rolls a nat one on perception*

Orc Fighter, who is 89 years old: “Grandma’s developed cataracts.”

-

Orc Fighter, OOC: “Everyone knows General McGeneralface, formerly known as Bitey McBiteface.”

-

Bitey McBiteface: *snarling and growling as Orc Fighter pins him*

Orc Fighter: “Now that’s just rude, young man.”

-

Orc Fighter: “That’s a nat one but it is a 26 to hit.”

GM: *sigh* “You hit.”

-

Arcanist: “So is it a sword?”

GM, frantically looking through her notes: “It… is… something.”

Orc Fighter: “It’s three goblins in a trenchcoat pretending to be a sword.”

-

Monk: “What is the population of this town?”

GM, off-guard: “Uh…”

Orc Fighter: “Between one and a fuckton.”

-

GM, annoyed with the module: “Aaaaah, why can’t I find the instructions for how to do this peacefully!”

Orc Fighter: “They’re expecting us to be murderhobos.”

Stryx Fighter: “Well…”

Monk: “They’re punishing GM for our peace.”

Arcanist: “Peace in our time, peace in our time.”

-

Arcanist, having used Command Undead on an enemy, tied her up, and forced her to play Tic-Tac-Toe with him: “I command her to place her O in the bottom right so I win.”

GM: “She’s gonna fight that… ten.”

Arcanist: “Twenty-four.”

GM: “She writes it with a shaky, reluctant hand.”

Arcanist: “Rather than win immediately, I am not going to touch the board for the next nine days.”

Orc Fighter: “Civilian NPC is just thinking to himself, ‘Do I want to be indebted to these people?’”

-

On a rather important diplomacy roll, Arcanist spent about five minutes rolling different dice, as he is one of two members of our five-person party to have a positive charisma modifier, only to roll a three, a five, a two, a one, a four, and so on ten times until we got it. The first time, Orc Fighter tried to help him.

Orc Fighter: “I assist… oh my god. GM, look at the chat.”

Spiritualist, laughing: “Oh my god.”

Orc Fighter, laughing: “I have a -1 to diplomacy and I just rolled a nat one.”