#any dragons for me to add as my muse

[stellaelillac]

New muses !

Book / literature : Mira Sorrengail, Lilith Sorrengail, Rhiannon Matthias, Blue Daggertail Dragon Sgaeyl, Black Morningstartail Dragon Tairneanach / Tairn, Golden Feathertail Dragon Andarnaurram / Andarna ( all from fourth wing )

Anime / manga : Kuchiki Rukia ( bleach )

[idkyetxoxo]

Aegon Targaryen - Lessons

Summary - Aegon's High Valyrian lessons take a tempting turn when his wife, sensing his frustration, offers an irresistible incentive, for every correct answer, another piece of her clothing falls away, turning language practice into an enticing game of lust.

Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!!), strong language

Word count - 2496

Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Aegon, focus," I gently chided, placing the book on the settee beside him. He was already seated, but his gaze had wandered far from the pages.

"I can't," he admitted with a sigh, the frustration clear in his voice. "It's so difficult. I don't think I can learn any more." 

There was a sadness in his tone that tugged at my heart. I immediately softened, guilt pricking at me for being too harsh.

"Of course you can, my love," I said, my voice tender now. 

He was already wrestling with his own insecurities, haunted by the fear that he might never live up to the expectations placed upon him. The last thing he needed was for his wife, his one true sanctuary, to add to that burden.

He looked up at me, curiosity flickering in his eyes as I reached for the book again. "You just need... an incentive," I suggested, a playful edge creeping into my voice.

His interest piqued, and he leaned in closer. 

"What does naejot mean?" I asked, watching him closely.

He hesitated, his brow furrowing in concentration. "Um... forward?" he answered, though it sounded more like a question than a statement.

I pursed my lips, considering whether or not to correct him. Instead, I decided to let it slide.

"Yes," I said, smiling warmly as his face lit up with relief, though a small part of me noted that he wasn't entirely confident.

I placed the book in my lap and slowly, deliberately, reached behind my head to untie the ribbon holding my hair. I took my time, letting the ribbon slide through my fingers before my hair finally cascaded around my shoulders. 

His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation flickering across his features as he inhaled the faint scent of lavender from my loosened hair.

He gave me a questioning look, but I waved him off. "What does zaldrizes mean?" I asked next.

This time, a confident smirk curled his lips. "Dragon," he answered, and I nodded approvingly.

"Perhaps you don't need an incentive after all," I teased, but he shook his head eagerly, clearly unwilling to give up whatever reward he imagined.

"Fine," I mused, standing up slowly. His eyes followed my every movement, and I could see the anticipation growing in his expression. "But just in case..." 

I began to slowly pull off one stocking, inch by inch, watching as his breath hitched slightly. He leaned forward, his gaze fixed intently on me.

"For every word or phrase you get correct, I'll remove a piece of clothing," I explained, my voice low, almost a purr. His eyes darkened with desire, and I saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his focus unwavering.

He leaned back on the settee, smug satisfaction evident in his expression. 

"Well, your ribbon shouldn't have counted as a piece of clothing," he pointed out, a hint of mischief in his voice.

I clicked my tongue in admonishment. "Hush or I'll only remove one stocking and make this last much longer," I warned, and he immediately raised his hands in surrender, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Let's continue, then," I said, resuming my seat. "What does lentor mean?"

He bit his lip, thinking hard. "Maybe... slow?" he guessed, but there was uncertainty in his voice, as though he wasn't sure if he was recalling it correctly.

I shook my head slowly, watching as disappointment flashed across his face. 

"Not quite," I murmured, toying with the edge of my gown. His eyes darted down to the fabric, but I didn't make a move to remove it yet.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "I thought that was it."

"Patience," I soothed, leaning forward just enough to let my hair brush against his arm. "You'll get there." He nodded, though he still seemed frustrated with himself. 

"Try again," I encouraged. "What about drīvose?"

This time, his brow furrowed deeply. "All?" he asked, but his tone was more hesitant than ever.

I gave him a sympathetic smile, shaking my head. "No, love. It means 'actually.'"

He let out a soft groan, slumping back against the settee with an air of resignation. "I'm never going to get this right," he muttered, his frustration evident.

"Yes, you will," I insisted, my tone firm but gentle. 

I stood up again, slowly beginning to unlace the front of my gown. His eyes snapped to the movement, and I saw a spark of determination light up in his gaze.

"One more try," I offered, my voice soft as I let the laces loosen just enough to hint at what lay beneath. "What is 'all men must serve'?"

He hesitated, his eyes flicking between my fingers and the partially unlaced gown. "Valar dohaeris?" he ventured, his voice tinged with doubt.

I smiled, pleased this time. "Yes," I purred, slipping one shoulder free of the gown, allowing it to hang tantalizingly. His breath caught, and I saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly.

"See? You're getting there," I encouraged, sitting back down as the gown slipped off fully revealing the sparse clothing I had left. His eyes were locked on me now, the earlier frustration fading as he focused on the incentive.

"Maybe we should always practice this way," he suggested his voice husky with need.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Ñuho glaeso hūrus," I said, presenting him with a phrase that I knew had tripped him up before.

His brows knitted together in concentration. "Something of my life," he offered, but his uncertainty was evident.

I sighed softly, a playful hint of disappointment in my expression. "Close, but not quite," I teased, my fingers brushing against the hem of my slip, causing his eyes to darken further with desire.

"But I was close, wasn't I?" he pressed, clearly eager to move forward.

"Close, but close doesn't count," I replied with a smirk, leaving the slip where it was, not offering any further reward just yet.

He groaned, rubbing his temples. "This is impossible."

"It's not," I reassured him, leaning in just enough to let my lips brush against his ear. "You just need to focus a little more."

He closed his eyes as he tried to recall the words. "Star?" he guessed, then shook his head. "No, moon?"

I nodded encouragingly as the slip glided off my body, leaving me in nothing but my small clothes. His eyes were practically devouring me now, but I could see the satisfaction in his gaze as well, knowing he had earned each step forward.

"One last phrase," I said, my voice soft and inviting. "If you get this right, you'll have earned your full reward."

He nodded, his focus entirely on me now.

"North, east, south, and west," I prompted, knowing this set of words had always been a challenge for him.

His expression fell for a moment, the directions always causing him grief. But he took a deep breath, determination shining in his eyes. 

"Jelmor," he began, and I nodded eagerly. "Ñāqon, Vẽzor, and..." He trailed off, a look of panic crossing his face as he struggled to remember the last word.

"Come on, my love," I urged softly. "You know this."  My fingers slipped just beneath the waistband of my small clothes, teasing him further.

"Endia!" he suddenly exclaimed, a triumphant smile breaking across his face.

I glanced at the book to confirm, then smiled warmly, the last of my clothing slipping to the floor. He grinned, the excitement in his eyes mirroring my own.

I tossed the book aside and moved toward him, straddling his lap as I rested my hands on his shoulders. My fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as his hands moved to undress himself.

But I stopped him, placing my hands over his, holding them in place as he looked up at me, puzzled. 

"Avy jorrāelan," I murmured, my voice soft and full of affection.

A slow grin spread across his face, his eyes warm as he replied, "I love you too."

Only then did I let go, allowing him to remove his pants as I quickly undid his tunic. The reward had been hard-earned, but it was worth every moment of the struggle.

He began kissing down the curve of my neck, his lips warm and insistent against my skin. A soft moan escaped me as I started to grind against his lap, teasing him with the promise of what was to come.

"Now, Ñuhor līr gūrēnna," he growled, his voice thick with desire as he grabbed me firmly under my thighs. I will take what is mine.

In one fluid motion, he flipped us over with surprising ease, a quiet squeal of delight escaping my lips as I found myself beneath him. 

"Yes, you shall," I murmured back, my voice breathless with anticipation as his hands began their exploratory journey across my body. 

He leaned back slightly, hoisting me up toward him, his hands still firmly gripping my thighs as he positioned me just above his hard, twitching cock. The anticipation in his eyes was almost unbearable.

"Feels so much better when you've earned it," he gasped out, his voice a mixture of triumph and raw desire. 

As he guided me down onto him, I let out a soft gasp, my body trembling with pleasure. I nodded eagerly, unable to form words, lost in the sensation of him filling me.

He dipped his head into the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin as he began to move. His composure was slipping, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through us both. 

He set a steady pace, his control evident, but I could feel the tension building within him, the struggle to maintain that control.

After a few intense minutes, I couldn't resist any longer. My fingers tangled in his hair, playing with the strands in a way I knew drove him wild. His breath hitched, and he faltered for just a moment, the rhythm of his thrusts growing more erratic.

"You feel so good," he whispered in my ear, his voice hoarse with need. 

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through me, and I clung to his shoulders for support. My walls squeezed around his cock, drawing a low chuckle from him. 

"Come on, my love," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "Fuck me like I've earned it."

I met his gaze, my eyes dark with passion, and nodded as I began to move with him, matching his rhythm, giving him everything he had worked so hard for.

The room was filled with the raw, intimate sounds of our bodies coming together. 

Our moans and gasps mingled with the wet, rhythmic sounds of his cock driving in and out of me, the intensity of our passion echoing in every corner.

"Fuck, Aegon, yes... right there," I cried out, my voice trembling with need as he adjusted his angle. 

The head of his cock found that perfect spot deep inside me, and the pleasure was so intense it felt like stars were exploding behind my eyes. My body arched into him, desperate for more.

He gasped, his breathing ragged as his control began to slip. 

"I'm close," he managed to say, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. 

His hands tightened around my waist, gripping me like I was his lifeline as his thrusts grew increasingly desperate, the rhythm turning sloppy as he chased his release.

I could feel the tension building within him, his body trembling with the effort to hold on just a little longer. 

"Aegon, let go," I whispered, my voice soft but urgent as I encouraged him, my own body hurtling toward the edge. "I'm with you."

He groaned, the sound guttural and raw as he buried his face in my neck, his pace faltering. I moved with him, our bodies perfectly in sync as we rode the waves of pleasure together, the intensity overwhelming.

The heat between us reached its peak, and with one final, deep thrust, Aegon's body tensed, and I felt him shudder against me, his release spilling into me as he gasped my name. 

The sensation sent me spiralling over the edge, my climax crashing through me like a tidal wave. I cried out, my body trembling as the pleasure consumed me, every nerve alight with ecstasy.

For a moment, the world around us seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of us entwined in the aftermath of our passion. I held him close, my fingers gently stroking his hair as we caught our breath.

After a while, I broke the comfortable silence, a playful glint in my eyes. "So, aren't I a good teacher?" I asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips as I teasingly ruffled his hair.

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, vibrating through both of our bodies. His fingers found mine, intertwining them with a gentle but firm grip. He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my knuckles. 

"The best," he murmured, his eyes sparkling with affection as he looked at me. "Your methods are rather... motivating."

"Perhaps I should start teaching others, then," I teased, my tone light and mischievous as I watched his reaction.

His playful expression faltered for a moment, and he tutted, shaking his head in mock disapproval. A possessive glint flashed in his eyes as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

"Not with those methods, you aren't," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "Those are strictly reserved for me."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of affection for him. 

"Oh, is that so?" I teased back, arching an eyebrow as I pretended to consider his words. He nodded, his expression serious despite the humour dancing in his eyes. 

"Absolutely," he confirmed, pulling me even closer, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. "I'm not sharing this with anyone. You're mine."

His words, though spoken in jest, carried an undercurrent of sincerity that made my heart skip a beat. I could see the love and devotion in his gaze, the same feelings that mirrored in my own heart. 

"And you're mine," I whispered back, leaning in to brush my lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss.

The kiss deepened slow and tender, a gentle reminder of the connection we shared. When we finally pulled away, we were both smiling, the world outside our little cocoon fading further into the background.

I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as his fingers continued to play with mine. 

"You know," I mused, "if this is how our lessons go, I think I'll need to give you a lot more of them."

He chuckled, the sound low and content. "I think I'll need them," he agreed, his voice a soft rumble in his chest. "After all, I'm a very eager student when you're the one teaching."

We lay there in comfortable silence, our bodies still intertwined. There was no need for words; the connection between us spoke volumes.

All that mattered was this moment, this closeness, and the knowledge that we belonged to each other, in every possible way.

A/n - Another fav, this was so fun to write asw (the idea came to me from a movie I seen years ago called 'Loser') 😭😭

[damn-stark]

Chapter 10 Heart of Ice

Chapter 10 of Moonlight

A/N- I was giggling and kicking my feet tehehe ;)

Warning- some swearing, talks of miscarriage and death, ANGST!, FLUFF, mild NFSW, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- 2x01

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

There it is, standing so tall that it looks like it’s touching the sky. It’s mesmerizing no matter how many times you’ve seen it, and it never fails to steal your breath.

Yet the wall is at its prettiest when it weeps when the sun hits it just as it rises from the ground. Right now all it does is bring forth an icier chill as the wind blows, making you hold onto your cloak for warmth.

You can only imagine how Jacaerys is fairing, this is his first time at Castle Black.

“How are you holding up?” You make sure to ask your brother as his eyes stay stuck on the towering wall.

“My balls are about to freeze off,” he makes no effort to talk properly in front of you, nor do you remind him to.

You smile at him and look at him with a soft endearment only reserved for those you deeply cherish. “It will be worth it, I promise. I cannot wait for you to see it,” you muse and cup his shoulder.

Jacaerys finally takes his eyes off the wall and meets your gaze with such a warm smile that it’s capable of melting the thickest sheets of ice.

“It better live up to everything you have said,” he remarks lightheartedly, making you drop your head to laugh softly at the ground.

“It will pass your expectations,” Cregan interjects as he finally rejoins you and leads the way to the lift that looks a bit unreliable, but all the people at Castle Black use it, and you have survived after using it so, you walk in. Slowly of course, and you don’t dare pay too much attention to the sounds it makes as it starts moving Jacaerys, Cregan, and you to the top.

“You know,” you take the attention of the rackety noise. “Perhaps one day I will send one of my children over here to take up a role as guardian of the wall.”

“Is that so?” Cregan probes.

“One of your seven?” Jacaerys jokes and you laugh softly but don’t take back what you said, catching him by some surprise.

“It’s a rare thing for a Targaryen or Velaryon to come be a brother of the Night's Watch,” you explain your thought process to the curious men. “But we are the families the people look up to. I mean I understand the sacrifice, but I believe that for us to have a good relation with the North, and for us to protect our realm against what may be out there, we too should be here with a dragon or two.”

Cregan briefly meets your gaze and hides well those emotions you stir up inside since your brother is standing at his other side, but he doesn’t stay quiet, he takes a deep breath before he parts his lips.

“You are right, the sacrifice one must commit is great, but duty is sacrifice,” Cregan begins to say. “It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price. The North owes a great duty to the Seven Kingdoms, one older than any oath. Since the day of the first men, we have stood as guardians against the cold and the dark. Through its long tradition, the Night's Watch cultivated its strength from doomed men who had their life as their only possession. But my ancestor, Torrhen Stark began a tradition by making an offering at the onset of winter; one in 10 men from our household was to be chosen to fortify the Watch. This is not a sentence but an honor. A duty embraced by all who serve the North. Even by mine own kin. Thus I respect your decision, My Princess.”

He talks so well that even these long comments captivate you, and that’s hard to do because you get so easily bored.

“The North must stand ready,” Cregan adds without losing a breath. “Winter is coming.”

“Coming?” Jacaerys interjects. “What is this, then, that falls from the skies and shivers my bones?”

You roll your eyes away and scoff softly.

He thinks he’s so funny.

“This is only a late summer snow, my prince,” Cregan says something he’s already mentioned once before. “In winter, it will cover all you see and all memories of warmth will be forgotten.”

You look through the gaps on the wooden walls but the lift then shakes so you step back and stand closer to Cregan.

“It pleases me to think that over a century ago our ancestors treated in this very place,” Jacaerys mentions with a lighthearted look on his face. “The Conqueror and the King in the North.”

You can’t help but smile at the thought and the history the Starks share with your ancestors. It’s so bittersweet. But it’s all so corny of Jacaerys to say, he sounds just as infatuated as you.

You would tease him, but now doesn’t seem like the time so you just smile wider to yourself.

Cregan’s gaze wanders to you after your brother's words, and you share some of that sweetness with him because regardless of it all, you are happy Jacaerys expressed his fondness for Cregan.

And when Cregan does see your smile some of that hardened demeanor melts.

“You, at least had the mercy not to threaten me with your dragon,” Cregan quips at your brother jokingly, leaving him silent until he queries.

“Did my sister threaten you with her dragon?”

Does he think of you as some wild beast or something?

Regardless, Cregan's eyes soften before he shakes his head and tells him what you did do. “No, but she did threaten to go over the wall and escape when she first got to Winterfell six years ago.” He says and tilts his head over to you, but you look out the window and shake your head.

“I was having a hard time adjusting,” you remind him. “And I did not end up going over the wall.”

“No,” he mutters softer as if speaking with admiration. “You did not.”

You lift your eyes off the icy wall and let yourself meet and hold his gaze with a soft look just until the lift finally lands on the top because when it comes to a sudden halt the wooden lift shakes, and you’re reminded why you hate coming to the top this way—You almost reach out to Cregan to keep yourself balanced and safe, but you stop yourself and just stand stiffly until finally he opens the door for you and your brother, letting you feel like you can breathe again when you’re on stable ground.

“My Prince, My Princess,” one of the brothers greets you while you slip your arm around your brothers to hold onto more warmth as the coldness nips at your skin.

“My Lord.”

“My Lord,” other brothers greet Cregan while he walks after you until finally he catches up and leads you to one side.

“Surely the great Torrhen Stark would’ve sooner died than bent the knee,” you chose to return to the previous topic as you watch Jacaerys’ eyes fall on every single detail you pass by. “Unless he believed the Conqueror could bring unity to the Seven Kingdoms.”

Cregan nods. “You are right in that,” he agrees.

“That unity is now threatened,” Jacaerys goes on for you with another clever workaround to the subject at hand. “The realm will soon tear itself apart if men do not remember the oaths sworn to King Viserys and to his rightful heir.”

Again you can’t help but be proud of the way he speaks. But you also know this second attempt won’t mend Cregan Stark’s choice.

“Stark’s do not forget their oaths, my Prince,” Cregan reminds him proudly. “But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between North and South.”

Jacaerys glances over at you with discreet disappointment, and you press him an, ‘I told you so’ look right back.

“In winter, my duty to the Wall is even more dire than the one I owe to King’s Landing,” Cregan strengthens his argument. “I need my men here.”

You swallow thickly as you come to a halt just under a post, and Jacaerys turns you around with him to pass Cregan a hard look that furrows his eyebrows. “Whilst your men guard against wildlings and weather the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne,” he remarks.

You grip onto him as a warning for him to calm down, but he doesn’t understand.

“If my mother is to defend her claim,” Jacaerys presses while Cregan guides all of you up the stairs. “To hold the realm united she needs an army. War is coming to the whole of the realm, my lord. We cannot wage it without the support of the North…” Jacaerys trails off when he reaches the top and finally sees with his own eyes the never-ending land beyond the wall, the beauty that you promised, and what you could never fully describe in words.

He moves toward the end of the post and you let your arm slip off his to let him admire for himself the beauty and the mystery that is the North, and the freedom it holds in its cold wilderness.

You can now honestly say you know the pride Cregan felt when he first brought you up here because you feel it. You are not from here, but seeing your brother be so captivated by what’s beyond the wall makes you fill with excitement that you can’t put into words, you can just express it with admiration and awe in your eyes.

Cregan notices and admires you while your brother's attention is far away, and to his surprise, you feel his stare and return his soft gaze while you also let your gloved knuckles brush against each other as you let yourself be swooped up once again by the comfort you have been fighting to feel.

Yet you don’t let yourself get completely carried away, nor do you cross the line by letting your fingers touch, you keep your smile and join your brother's side.

“Was it everything you expected?” You ask before you’re brought back to the cruel reality.

Jacaerys laughs softly and nods. “It was everything you said and more…it feels like I could stay here and admire this forever.”

“It would get cold,” you joke, making him chuckle.

“It would be pleasant,” he murmurs.

You nod in agreement and dread returning to the sore subject, but you will lose yourself.

“I brought your sister, and my father brought King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne to see the Wall,” Cregan finally rejoins your company. “His Grace stood at this very outlook and watched as their dragons the greatest power in the world, refused to cross it.”

Jacaerys snaps his head to you and probes for more. “Even adventurous Astraea?”

You look out and nod. “Yes. She perches herself on the wall but never once does she fly over, nor does she dare fly over just to turn. I tried to command her to cross but she disobeyed me,” you back up Cregan's argument and feel a chill crawl down your spine at the reminder.

“Do you think my ancestors built a 700-hundred-foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?” Cregan presses your brother in a colder tone that almost works to frighten you.

“What does it keep out?” Jacaerys asks.

Cregan leans in closer to your brother and speaks one word. “Death.”

You swallow back nervously and share your uneasiness with your brother with a simple look that actually helps him let go of some of that tension and ignorance he held.

“I have thousands of graybeards,” Cregan finally offers and breaks the speechless moment between Jacaerys and you. “Who've already seen too many winters. They are well-honed.”

You loll your head to the side and snicker, while Jacaerys says what you were thinking. “So they’re old?”

“I can ready them to march at once,” Cregan assures him and you.

Jacaerys breathes out and accepts the offer. “If your graybeards can fight, the Queen will have them.”

“They will fight hard,” Cregan states with a hint of pride and some faint smugness. “Like Northerners.”

You glance over at him and catch that smugness on his usually serious face and you can’t help your heart from skipping a beat when he glances at you with the same look.

“My Lord,” a man calls for Cregan’s attention, making his face fall hard once again. “A ravens arrived.”

The man approaches the post breathing hard as if in a hurry and hands Cregan a scroll. “Urgent news from Dragonstone,” he announces, making you understand his urgency, and causing you to fall serious and nervous yourself.

But if it is bad news wouldn't it be sent directly to Jacaerys and you?

Maybe?

Unless—

You can’t let yourself think the worst, but you still share your worry with your brother before you watch Cregan unravel the scroll to read what the news is.

He doesn’t take long to read, but it feels like he is reading for eternity in the waiting silence until finally he puts the scroll down and meets your gaze. This time when you lock eyes your heart skips a beat out of worry instead of awe, this time a smugness doesn’t play in his eyes or tug the corner of his lips up, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched like when he makes his face hard, but you can read him clear as day as you simply hold his gaze.

You can see the pity pulling his lips down, and a soft apologetic look in his grey eyes that makes them appear darker. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to know that what he read wasn’t a simple warning or a call home, they’re dark words that he almost but says.

You want to ask, he knows that, he sees your worry heighten in your furrowed brows and parted lips, so with a simple blink his face softens as he gives you sorrow, making your eyes immediately cloud with tears. While in the back, Jacaerys sees it, your shared past. He figures it out in the exchange that is far more complex than one friends should share, but it all makes sense now.

Your friendship always slightly caught his attention, it bugged him in some way. Not because he felt bad for Aemond that you were so sweet on another man, but all your interactions were always weird he just didn’t figure out why until this very moment as Cregan fails to look over at him after what he read, as he watches this speechless interaction and sees the deep aching softness on the Lord's face and a deep set heartache in your eyes.

He had only seen such a speechless complexity in his mother and Ser Harwin. He was too young to realize it then but as he got older he understood what happened around him, and doesn’t fail to understand now.

Yet as much as he wants to give into this anger he feels boil within him at the thought of Lord Stark taking advantage of you in your five years in Winterfell, the news that awaits him helps him stay collected. Thus he steps forward without causing a scene and finally, Lord Stark drives all the attention to him, letting him finally receive the scroll, and leave you waiting longer without focusing on Cregan any longer. Now you turn to face your brother as he reads what was sent.

Once again it feels like what was written is getting read at an infuriatingly slow pace, but now you’re not impatient to know. You’re scared to know or read Jacaerys' face now. But you keep your eyes on your brother and watch his jaw unclench and his lips part to let out a soft gasp, while his once steady hands begin to tremble, and his eyes…water.

“Jacaerys,” you almost plead his name out.

That anger he had at the waiting completely disappears and he slowly looks up at you with a loud and heartbreaking sorrow.

“Jace,” you mewl.

Said man licks his lips and sniffles before he grabs your arm and gently pulls you aside.

“Listen to me,” his voice quivers and only makes your heart race faster than it’s already beating.

“Is it…” you trail off to catch your breath. “A-Aerion?”

Jacaerys shakes his head and keeps in those tears that fill his eyes. “No, Aerion is fine,” he assures you but you don’t feel relieved.

“What?” You beg for an answer and reach for his hands, but he lifts them and tucks loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“When,” he says shakily. “Lucerys was in StormsEnd, Aemond…”

You start to shake your head and his bottom lip trembles.

“Aemond killed Lucerys,” Jacaerys finally reveals quietly.

A cold breeze hits you and all that you had been feeling gets lost in the wind, leaving you numb.

Jacaerys calls your name but you stare ahead blankly. Theres nothing that crosses your mind, there’s nothing you feel that makes you react. You know it’s heavy and painful news, you knew they were dark words when Cregan told you speechlessly, but you can’t accept the truth that’s given. You don’t want to, you can’t because if you do then it means you will accept that your husband, the man you love…did what was written, and you don’t want to accept that.

However, Jacaerys calls out for you again and this time he grabs your arms and steals your attention, forcing you to once again connect to what you refused to feel.

“No,” you blurt and push him back. “You’re lying. You’re a liar.”

Jacaerys shows you the scroll as he gets close again. “You can read it yourself. It’s the truth, Lucerys…he’s,” he strains to say. “He’s…dead.”

Your heart drops and a flood of emotions rams through you, knocking the air out of your lungs, and making your legs weak.

Jacaerys grabs your arms and holds you up before you can fall and pulls you to him, letting you see how red his eyes are, and how drowned they are with tears he’s holding back.

“Jace,” you mewl and cover your mouth to sob.

Your brother nods in understanding without you having to express the rest of your sorrow. “I know,” he whispers. “I know.”

“Oh gods,” you gasp and drop your head while grabbing at your chest as you can’t seem to catch a breath. You can’t breathe. There’s so much air where you are, it’s so crisp but you can’t manage to take in any which in return only lets you feel the pounding of your heart, the rushing of your blood, and a rush of memories of your little brother Lucerys.

All you can think about is Lucerys, you imagine his last moments, and with every memory and every fake scenario the more you fail to grasp for air.

In the distance, Cregan watches how you’re breaking down, but no matter how much he wants to, he has to stay put even if it hurts not being able to help you when you need him the most. He does get close to trying something small since you are in so much pain trying to breathe, and your brother seems a bit lost on how to help you, but Jacaesys then does the first thing he thinks of and pulls you into an embrace.

Thankfully right away, at the feeling of your brother's weight, and at the feeling of his warmth, all those rushing memories slowly disappear, letting you draw in a deep breath. You pull him closer and bury your head in the crook of his neck whilst you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, and push his head down to let him bury his face on your shoulder so he can express everything he refuses to show to the public.

When he clutches onto the back of your cloak your heart comes to a slow pace, but it doesn’t stop weeping. With every ba-dum, you feel an aching pain in your chest that doesn’t go away.

Eventually, after a short time, Jacaerys pulls back and gives his back to Cregan to wipe away his tears before facing him with a sorrow that isn’t able to wipe off. “We need to go, my Lord. You’ll have to forgive us for not accompanying you back to Winterfell, but with our dragons here we need to make haste to return to Dragonstone.”

You grab at your chest and gently caress it as if that would cure you’re heartache while Jacaerys shares something you agree to without the need for a discussion.

Albeit Cregan is the one who protests. “It will get dark soon, why do you not wait until first light to take flight? Wait until you both have collected yourselves so you don't do anything rash in the heat of the moment.”

You shake your head and interject in a broken voice. “The storm won’t pass, Lord Stark. We’ll just face it head-on and leave, our mother needs us.”

Cregan steps forward, gaining a brief glance from you. “Just eat, and rest…I know the pain of losing a brother, I understand your grief, my heart is with you,” he tries to relate so you would listen. “I have lost many others too, I know the anger, please just let yourselves calm down before you return home. I will stay with you here.”

You know your brother too, you know how angry he can get. You know that once your grief really settles you’ll also start thinking of what happened and you’ll get upset too. Thus you don’t hurry to answer, you look at your brother and he looks at you. And without a word, you come to the same conclusion.

“All right,” Jacaerys says for the both of you. “We will stay, but leave at first light. Thank you, my Lord.”

——

*LATER*

Nothing makes sense.

Why? How?

Those questions are what runs around and around in your head accompanied by different terrifying scenarios that could’ve led to the act. A lot of it points to an accident, you want to believe in your heart of hearts that what…Aemond did was an accident. You don’t want to believe that this remorse got the best of him, he’s supposed to be better, he’s supposed to keep it in for your sake.

He knows how much you love your brothers, he knows he can hate them all he wants, but he can’t hurt them. And yes! You know that war was going to happen no matter what, and violence was going to be dragged in between your families, but Aemond went out of his way to…kill Lucerys when all he was was an envoy.

He killed your brother. Your husband killed your brother, and in turn, betrayed you in the worst way possible. He tore your heart out, and what hurts more is that he hasn’t said what he did in the multiple ravens he’s sent! Just like always, he never tells you a thing!

What are you supposed to believe, but the worst? You want to believe he’s good behind all that hard demeanor, you defend him against your family when they say something bad because you want to believe he has a good heart, but what does killing Lucerys prove? That you’ve been wrong all along?

Gods!

Damn it! Why did he have to do it? Why did he take Lucerys?

A knock raps on your door, but you’re so drowned in your heartache that you don’t hear the sound. It’s not until you hear your name being called out softly behind that door that you almost wake up from your stupor.

“It is I, Cregan,” he announces without the need to, you knew who he was the moment he uttered the first word. “Can I talk to you? You didn’t come for supper.”

You blink repeatedly to relieve the dry spell in your eyes after not blinking for a few seconds and clutch onto the ring you were fiddling with before you get up and unlock the door. You don’t proceed to say anything, you walk away from the door and stand against the fireplace, but Cregan takes the unlocked door as an invitation and walks in, finding your food untouched, you in your nightgown, and your head down.

“I came to check on you,” he says softly as if careful not to hurt you even more with his voice. When he gets no response or even a small breath, he walks in further and notices now how unkempt you are; you’re usually so precise with the way you keep yourself, you always look so clean and tidy, it was only in the morning when you first woke up that he would catch you off guard, but now it’s like you don’t care how you look.

“I hope you are not going to bed with your hair down like that,” he tries to be lighthearted. “You hate having your hair tangled in the morning.”

He waits for a reaction, a soft ‘oh’, but you stay quiet and it just deepens his concern.

“Darling,” he uses your pet name and you finally break from your stupor and turn partially to face him.

He expected a sweet look just out of instinct, but those usually wonder-filled eyes are clouded by agony and tears that can’t even fall down your cheeks anymore; while the fires fierce light brings clarity to your deep set frown, knitted brows, and puffy face worn out from crying.

“Here,” he breathes out and catches a gleam coming from in between your fingers. When he fills his curiosity he notices that the firelight is dancing on a sapphire ring you cannot stop fiddling with in between your fingers; a ring he had not seen you take off once since he saw you. Which must mean your husband gave it to you.

He doesn’t want to ask for many reasons, so he approaches you from behind and gently starts braiding your hair in silence you cannot seem to fill. It’s almost like there was no one inside your body, you were a hollow body left soulless.

“I understand why you locked your door,” he mentions in hopes that would get him a simple reaction. “However, it does not seem necessary, your dragons are restless and it stirs up fear in the brothers. And I am here as well.”

Your back raises as you draw in a deep breath, but rather than filling the silence with a dry response, or some remark, you just breathe out, making him steal a glance at the side of your face that he can see from behind you, before he pulls out the leather strip that keeps half of his hair out of his face to keep your own braid in place instead. He then proceeds to shuffle to your side to grab your arm.

“Sit down, Princess.” He commands softly.

You don’t fight him, you let him guide you down to your seat, and once he’s feeding the fire more wood your hoarse voice finally fills the room.

“I should have gone back to King's Landing…A—He sent me a raven the day after when my grandsire the King died. He didn’t tell me of course, but he told me to go back…I should have listened, I…” you pause to catch your breath. “Maybe then Lucerys…” you trail off and whimper whilst you drop your head in your hands.

Cregan leaves the last piece of wood in the fire and then wipes his hands on his shirt while he stands up to close the gap between you.

“Don't,” he says firmly and crouches down in front of you to grab your hands and pull them down so you can meet his gaze. “Do not blame yourself for your brother's death. What happened is not your fault to carry. What happened is dealt with, don’t dwell on things that can no longer happen.”

You hold his gaze while you process his words for a second and then look down at the ring you still hold.

“I’m sorry,” he says sorrowful words that bring your heart some comfort, but also make your body tremble while those tears that you once couldn’t muster, come rushing down your already stained cheeks.

Nothing else is spoken, and nothing is asked of either of you, but out of instinct your arms slip around his neck, and he returns the embrace and follows you to your feet where he keeps holding you and lets you cry on his shoulder; for hours? For a few seconds? You don’t know, you dwell in his comfort that you missed and relish in it until you stop crying.

He probably should have been the one to pull away, but he doesn’t complain, not once. He lets you pull back on your own time, and even then he grabs your arms to keep you close so he can cup your cheeks and caress them for a final piece of comfort to your aching heart.

Yet that proves to be a mistake because as you linger in his proximity, your eyes fall on his lips and you’re overwhelmed with a passion-filled heat that pushes your lips against his.

At first, Cregan is so stunned by the warmth of your lips on his, and then he’s taken by the excitement of feeling your lips reconnecting that he closes his eyes and kisses you back, but when his lust begins to rush through his blood he pulls back and groans.

“No,” he shakes his head and slides his hands down your face to grab your shoulders, leaving a burning trail down your skin. “You are married. No matter what happened you are still married, and you’re grieving.”

You want to forget your pain for a moment and be consumed by the comfort, bliss, and excitement he provides, but he’s also right. And how can you do that to Aemond…

But…

Maybe you don’t care if it hurts him because he hurt you. He won’t know either way—But you will know, you will know that it’s something that can hurt him, and you…don’t care. But Cregan…is right.

“I’m sorry,” you throw out and step away from him, feeling a chill hit those parts of you that he kept warm with his touch—“you are right. I’m sorry.”

Cregan turns away and swallows back thickly, feeling somewhat disappointed that he has to turn down this heat of the moment. “Perhaps I shall bid you a goodnight now.”

You swallow back to hide your disappointed sigh and nod. “Yes, goodnight Cregan.”

Said man avoids looking at you when he turns. It makes it easier to walk away from you. But when his hand touches the door handle he doesn’t turn it to open it, he stands there frozen with his back turned to you as he feels his honor start to slip.

He turns his head but doesn’t peek over right away, he fights himself but quickly falters when he feels the ghost of your wet lips haunting his. And when he fully looks back and sees the shadow of your sculpted figure in your white nightgown his inner battle is lost. He only proves his loss by locking the door and turning completely to face you, turning around as well.

“Cregan?” You query, puzzled by his presence.

Said man draws out a deep breath before he strides back to you with determination in his step and surprises you by grabbing your face the moment he can. You want to utter his name, but a small gasp is all that goes past your lips whilst you drop the ring that Aemond had gifted you.

“I pride myself in my honor,” he says while his eyes flicker between your parted lips and your shocked gaze. “But when it comes to you it’s turned to ash, nothing stops me from wanting you, from…” he trails off and leans forward, but you don’t allow your lips to touch. You shift your head away, but he follows you to keep your breaths unfurling over each other's lips.

“…desiring you in every way a gentleman shouldn’t. I burn for you when you’re far, and even when I dream of you. It is wrong.” He nods, and you nod too without much effort. “But you are my weakness, you have always been my weakness. You’re my joy, the reason I laugh, and also the reason I don’t march to King's Landing and bring you to Winterfell to make you mine,” he whispers against your lips, making a smile make an appearance on your saddened face.

“Tell me this is wrong, tell me to leave now,” he tells you and drags his eyes up to meet yours so you can know he’s being serious. “And I will. I will leave your chambers and when morning comes I’ll bid you farewell with no remorse and as nothing more than friends.”

As if being hypnotized to his lips you lean forward, but only let your lips brush, leaving your heart pounding as it screams for you to connect.

“I still have to leave,” you make it known while you gently cup his jaw to touch some part of him. “I have to return to Dragonstone no matter what.”

Cregan’s eyebrows pinch together and he hesitates before he nods. “I understand,” he mutters and glances at your lips again. “But that doesn’t change a thing if you tell me to leave.”

You should. You're still married even if Aemond betrayed you by killing your brother. And deep deep down a lot of your conflict comes because you don’t know if you did stop loving the man who killed your brother, but that reason is also why you want to give in to your deepest burning desire.

That reason is why you’re selfish and don’t resist Cregan or stop your heart from swooning at his confession.

“Don’t leave,” is all he needs to hear to smile widely before he finally feeds your desire by kissing you slowly, fueling that passionate heat that completely takes over your body, and leaving you still and breathless for a moment as you relish in the sweet taste of his soft lips melting with yours, guiding your every movement, and driving you mad with lust.

You had forgotten this dream-like feeling, you had forgotten how fast he makes your heart race when he’s kissing you, and you forgot how hot you burn when his fingers explore the perimeters of your body. Furthermore, you forgot how eager he can get until you feel his grip on the back of your gown.

You pull away quickly and protest. “No, no, wait, do not rip it.”

Cregan fingers loosen and you start to giggle. “Why do you always want to rip my gowns?” You bring up, making his lips lift to a smirk.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between heavy breaths.

You press a kiss on his lips and then tell him, “gently.”

He breathes out deeply and nods once before he slides his fingers back to the ribbon tying your gown together, and slowly begins to untie it while you drift your lips to kiss the corner of his mouth, and then kiss his jaw before you graze your lips up and kiss the corner of his jaw.

Cregan lets out a groan from the back of his throat, making you feel chills grow on your skin.

“I hate all these layers,” he musters while you continue to leave a trail of kisses down to his neck. “They are so infuriating.”

You smile against his neck, causing you to feel his nails dig in your skin.

“It keeps me warm,” you tell him and lick a stripe up to his lips. “Your North is cold, my Lord.”

Cregan clenches his jaw and shakes his head. “A little less with your presence,” he completely wins you over, making you grin and look at him in awe.

“I missed you,” he finally lets himself confess to you. “My darling love.”

You sigh and whisper back. “I missed you too.”

His eyes gleam brighter and that short absence is filled once again with your lips while he finally slips off your gown, leaving you under a simple sheer gown that he slips off with ease.

“You’re beautiful,” he says with awe, and his eyes dark with lust.

“It’s no fair,” you argue between kisses and slowly drag your hands down to help him pull off his layers. “And you say I wear a lot of layers,” you comment, making him scoff.

You finally end up pulling the last one off and throw it to the side mindlessly as you’re captivated by his toned torso and those thick arms that he unfairly hides under all those garments.

“Kiss me,” you command in a voice oozing with honey.

“Gladly,” is all he says before capturing your face to smash his lips on yours and this time make out more roughly as he’s filled with a much more hungry need.

Your own need lets you multitask by unbuckling his pants and tugging on them so he can pull them off in the brief pause you have between devouring each other. Yet when his member is out for you to see, you take a moment to admire how girthy and hard it is, and how perfect every vein is on his length.

You can’t help but start to go on your knees, but he grabs your bicep and pulls you back up to drift you away from that need.

“No,” he says out of breath and instead wraps his arms around you, and presses his lips on your neck to start leaving wet kisses on your flesh while he also slides his hands down your body, making you shiver at the feeling of his warm hands caressing you gently.

Without lifting his mouth off your neck he drifts his hand behind your knee, and with no explanation, he pulls your leg up to help you climb up and wrap your legs around his waist so he can walk you back to the edge of the bed, and gently put you down.

Once you’re lying on your back he pulls back but leans down to press his hands beside your head, and simply hold your gaze with this endearing look that makes his eyes smile.

“I'm going inside you,” he warns you, making you shiver and swallow thickly as you already imagine the stretch. “You need to be quiet.”

You part your lips but utter nothing, instead, you lift your head and he responds by giving you what you wanted, a deep kiss, while he grabs his length and aligns himself with your hole. When his tip touches you you gasp and he grins before taking your lips again to distract you while he slowly penetrates you.

Albeit the stretch is so wonderful and filling that you claw your nails on his back and scratch his back as he keeps going in deeper. Once all the way inside he finally pulls his face back to whisper. “You were made for me. You belong with me.”

You don’t respond with words, you cup his cheeks and brush strands of his hair behind his ears before you slide your hand to the back of his neck to gently pull him down. “Cregan make me yours,” you finally fill the silence, feeling as if his cock hardens even more before he finally starts moving his hips, filling you with a blinding ecstasy that heightens this passionate moment, and makes you only think about him and the pleasure he feels and gives you. You forget your sorrows and the grudge. You forget the war and the responsibilities you have.

You’re selfish in the lust-filled night and remain ignorant even before it's time to get out of bed. You just relish in Cregan's presence for a bit longer.

“Cregan…” you whisper, and the man hums in response letting you sigh before you share what’s been bothering you. “I do not like that I am the reason you disregard your honor. I do not like putting you through that.”

The hand on your back stops moving and a small huff rolls out of his nose. “I think it’s late to start thinking about that.”

You blink repeatedly with discontent and abruptly sit up to face him. “I am not jesting,” you press sharply. “I’m being serious. You hold your honor in high regard, I hate to be the one who makes it falter.”

A faint smile tugs on his lips without regard to your comment before he leans forward and assures you. “I have my honor, I never forget it, but I love you more. I’m being selfish without disregarding everything to be it. I know how to hold myself back,” he says firmly and cups your cheek to bring you closer to him. “I know where I stand, I am just choosing to have a taste of happiness. You, my darling, are my happiness.”

Your eyes water and your heart swoons, there’s nothing you can say that would measure up to the kind things he just said, all you can do is press a lingering kiss on his warm lips before you lay your head down on his chest, and hold onto him like he’s your security blanket.

“I…could offer you and your Aerion refuge here,” he offers and makes your pounding heart hurt.”

“Here? In Castle Black?” You tease without sounding too amused.

Cregan scoffs and starts to caress your arm. “Not here. In Winterfell,” he clarifies without a hint of falter at the mention of your son who is fathered by someone else who does bring him pangs of jealousy every time he remembers you’re married, and when he hears his name. “I would make sure no one could touch you and your boy there. He wouldn’t have to grow up around so much violence and you would not have to worry.”

You tilt your head down to kiss his shoulder before you give his offer an answer. “It's a nice offer, but my place is not hiding in a cage like some frightened bird. My place is out there, with my mother, with my brother, and the rest of my family fighting with the dragon I have. My mother needs me and I don’t want to leave her alone.”

Cregan doesn’t interject with anything, his chest rises and slowly falls back down, letting you know your response slightly wounded him.

“Instead of having her husband with her when she lost my sister,” you begin to say quieter but filled with frustration. “Daemon was out leading her council. I was the one who held her when she cradled my sister's lifeless body. I…have to be there for her now.”

“I understand,” he doesn’t falter to assure you. “But you must know if you ever find yourself needing somewhere to go, Winterfell is yours. You and your son are welcome.”

You lift your head off him to face him in the little space left between you. “I will always remember that. Thank you,” you say from the bottom of your heart.

A smile twitches on his serious face, and he proceeds to press a feathered kiss on your lips before he grins and says. “Sing for me? Just for me.”

You giggle and gently smack his shoulder. “No,” you answer bluntly and lay back down basically on him.

“Why not?” He chuckles. “It's not like you have to fear enchanting me with your song, you already have.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. Anyway!” You change the subject. “I was supposed to stop writing to you. I had already planned it.”

Cregan sighs and his chin rests on the top of your head. “I know,” he mutters. “You stopped writing as much as you would recently.”

Your smile falls but you grow desperate and hopeful. “But…you will answer me when I write to you in the weeks to come, right?”

He shrugs and interjects. “If that’s what you want, I will.”

You nod softly. “I do.”

You lift yourself up again to face him so he knows you’re being sincere. “I do.”

He grabs your cheek and his eyes soften. “Are you frightened?” He makes sure to ask.

You swallow thickly and shake your head. “No. Nervous, but not scared.”

He smirks and slides his hand down to caress your chin. “That’s my girl. You know how to fight, use that.” He tells you.

You laugh nervously. “I’ve never had to actually use my skill for violence.”

Your swordsmanship and your skills with archery were never for the intent of being some warrior, you like the idea of being like Queen Visenya Targaryen, and Princess Alyssa, but mostly your need to be trained with a sword and with archery was because you took it as a challenge. They said you couldn’t have it and you challenged them. Thus now that you’re having to face this war and the potential of having to use your skill, you’re honestly quite nervous.

You’ve never admitted that. You don’t want to admit it to anyone but him so they don't feel like you aren’t reliable.

“It won’t be easy,” Cregan says the truth. “But when you face your enemy, do not hesitate. Think quickly but be smart and do not let them gain the upper hand. You have a dragon, use her, and you have skill, good skill. Use it.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod in comprehension. He offers you a gentle smile and pulls you down to press his forehead against yours.

“You must know I will wait for you. Just a while longer.”

Asking what will happen after a while passes scares you, so you leave it be and just give him an honest response. “If fate ends up letting me choose, I will finally come home to you.”

He flashes you a charming smile that eases that worry in your heart and only works to sink you further down into this little escape.

“Now,” he coos against your lips. “Will you sing for me?”

You roll your eyes with a flattered smile featured on your face before you pull away to lay back on his chest and finally do as he asks of you as a parting gift where there aren't multiple people watching you, and pushing you down to hide or pretend that you’re nothing more than friends. You sing him a song for only him to hear before you take your leave and face reality once again.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

What good is actually facing reality? Facing a dead beloved brother, and the fact that it was someone who you loved that killed him?

Dragonstone is a painful reminder of what happened while you were away. Only now that pain in your heart is tenfold and you don’t think anyone can actually know the pain that plagues you. Who can truly understand what it is you carry? No one is married to the man who killed Lucerys. They can hate him with ease, but you?

You want to despise him, you fought yourself the entire flight back to Dragonstone to hate him and view him as another enemy, to view him like you view Aegon, but as much as you think you hate him, your heart fights hard to try and tell a different tale. And that’s what makes it worse.

Thus it's easier, it was almost healing, having an escape with Cregan, but now there’s no one who will silence your cries. And what makes matters worse is facing your heartbroken mother. You don’t like seeing her cry or be hurt, when she lost Visenya your pain could never equate to what she was feeling, but you hurt too with every groan, with all the blood that she spilled, and every sob. Now you’re moments away from her and your heart and soul are already shattering.

However, after you watch your dragon disappear into the caves with Vermax, and take a step inside the castle, a hand wraps around your forearm and you’re pulled into a dark dead end where there aren't prying eyes or nearby ears.

“<Tell me the truth,” Jacaerys spats in a whisper so no one would hear the sound of his words also protected by High Valyrian. “About you and Lord Stark.>”

You can’t help yourself, you blink repeatedly in disbelief and gape like a fish out of water.

“< There's no point in lying,” he only further surprises you. “I figured it out when he got the letter from Dragonstone. I would see it every time you would talk but I never pieced it together until yesterday. It all made sense then, the glances, what you would tell each other, and every story you told about him.>”

Tears fill your eyes and your heart echos in your ears as you’re struck with shame. Not for loving another man, but that Jacaerys found out.

“<He touched you?>” He proceeds to ask in your shocked silence.

And it’s in that silence where he figures out your unspoken response and finally lets go of your arm to turn away with a scoff.

“<He never forced himself on me,” you defend Cregan. “Everything we did was because we wanted it to happen. We love each other.>”

Jacaerys turns on his heels with frustration and clutches onto your arms to sneer. “<You saw how much mother suffered because she was with Ser Harwin. Did you not learn anything?>”

You know he’s remarking all that stuff to your face because he cares. He’s being thoughtful in his way but it doesn’t stop you from crying, and when you shed tears you hit a cord in your brother's heart and he lets go of you with a sigh.

“<If you weren’t already married I would turn back and force him, but alas,>,” he mutters and sighs again before turning and dropping his head in his hands.

“<He would’ve too,” you defend his honor. “But I did not want Aemond to hurt him with Vhagar. I choose not to marry him, please don’t blame him. He’s a good man.>”

Jacaerys shakes his head in disappointment and turns to face you with his eyes narrowed into a fierce glare and his lips curled in a snarl. “How am I not supposed to blame him?” He remarks in the common tongue. “He had his way with you and did not do what he was supposed to do! What an honorable man would do!”

“I told you already, I told him not to because of Aemond.”

Jacaerys grabs his face and rubs the bridge of his nose, so you continue to try and calm him down.

“He was always respectful and kind. And…” you pause and lick your lips before you utter the reality. “There’s nothing you can do about it now. There's no use in being upset, I am married and that won’t change even if I love him unless Aemond dies. So please,” you plead softer and step towards him to grab his arm so he can face you. “Please Jace, keep it a secret. No one must know. It’s in the past. Please don’t tell a soul.”

Jacaerys eyes snap to you and he clenches his jaw as he looks at you thoughtfully for a few agonizing moments before he sighs and whispers. “Fine. I will not tell anyone only because there’s nothing I can do now.”

You sigh with relief and wipe away your tears before you offer him a thankful smile and a sweeter comment. “Thank you so much. Thank you, Jace, really. I love you.”

Jacaerys lets out a deep breath and his face slowly lets that frustration go, and instead slowly falls to express a soft sorrow. You slide your hand down his arm to cup his hand and slowly mirror that grief as you remember what you lost and that pain you both now harbor.

No matter how hard you wish, there’s nothing in this world that can change what happened, no one can bring back your fallen brother. And what’s even crueler is that no matter how hopeful you were for the news to be a lie, you’re home now and that hope lies with Lucerys.

You both come to the same realization and speechlessly exchange it, bringing you both into each other's embrace to cry now without care.

And deep down you both want to stay close in just the way you are so neither of you run the risk of losing each other the way you lost Lucerys. It’s a foolish thought, but it’s one brought by grief, and a new fear set in both of your hearts because no matter how much you love your little brothers, nothing can compare to the bond the three of you had. A bond that now consists of Jacaerys and you. Just him and you.

“Jacaerys,” your moment is interrupted by a feminine voice that also speaks your name but does not belong to your mother. And when you both break away and look over you see Baela stand at the end of the hall with her hands clasped together and a pitiful look in her eyes.

“Baela,” you greet and wipe your tears away while Jacaerys turns to wipe his own tears away.

“Welcome back home,” she speaks sweetly.

You offer her a thankful nod before you walk over to her and meet her halfway with an embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly.

You nod and then interject. “Thank you.” You pull back and glance around in search of her twin. “Where’s Rhaena?”

Baela sighs. “In her chambers.”

You wished to greet her just as you returned home, but now you’ll have to speak to her after you speak with your mother.

“And what about…” you trail off and hesitate. “What about my mother?”

Baela glances behind you as Jacaerys approaches you and then gives you the answer you wanted. “I’ll take you to her.”

You offer her a thankful smile and watch her walk to Jacaerys to wrap her arms around him and offer him sweeter condolences. When the moment passes she guides you to your mother and your heart begins to pound, while your stomach twists and makes you feel almost nauseous at the anticipation. You already know you’re going to break even more, but there’s something about thinking about your mother being heartbroken that already tears you apart.

And maybe a part of it is because…it feels like you had a hand in her heartbreak because it was your husband who killed Lucerys.

It was not really you, you know that. You were oblivious to your husband's affairs, but no matter what anyone says, yes, that’s what is dwelling within, your guilt. It rattles you to the point you can’t be comfortable in your own skin.

As you get closer to your mother's quarters breathing gets hard once again, and your surroundings begin to dim, leaving only the narrow path ahead visible. You want to run away and not face the pain you’ll see. But when the doors to your mother's quarters open and you see her sitting across the fireplace, alone and in the dark, that panic settles as if she was the fresh air you needed to calm down, leaving you with the need to be embraced by her warmth and comfort, while also giving the same in return.

“Your Grace,” you greet her softly once Baela clears the room and leaves only you and your brother with your mother.

Your pounding heart starts racing once again, but it’s not out of fear, it’s racing out of a need to ease your pain, and the pain you clearly see on her delicate face. Yet you hold strong with tears stinging in your eyes already.

“Lady Jayne Arryn has pledged her support,” Jacaerys breaks the emotional silence to share the support you both gained when you were away on a mission. “…In exchange for a dragon to guard the Vale,” you hear the tear in your brother's voice, and when you glance over at him you see him fiddling with his hands while his eyes grow more and more teary, making your already weak hold, falter.

You still want to continue for him, but when you part your lips you can’t utter a word, it’s all lost in your grief that heightens the longer you watch your mother.

“And,” Jacaerys continues sounding even more brokenhearted by the second. “Lord Cregan Stark,” he pauses and takes a deep breath, but doesn’t seem to find the will to finish. He falls breathless and that wall he usually has up to be perceived as strong, and a protector crumbles, leaving him shaky.

You reach over to grab his hand while tears start to roll out of your eyes as you trail on for him. “…Lord Stark…promised 2000 men,” you manage to share with all the might you can muster.

Your mother doesn’t respond, she instead stands from her seat with her face contorting with grief and approaches the both of you, making you completely lose the faltering hold you had on your emotions.

However, when she’s close, Jacaerys reaches out first and she welcomes him in her arms. You want to do the same, you’ve been aching for it, but your guilt hits you and you stand there frozen with your head down.

“Mother,” you mewl with streams of tears. “I’m…sorry.”

Your mother pulls away from Jacaerys just slightly, leaving her arm around his neck to approach you and caress your cheek with no disdain in her eyes; nor does she look at you like you were the one at fault, her eyes are sad, but she expresses her reassurance before she slides her arm around your neck and pulls you in her gentle embrace and confirms that she doesn’t hate or blame you.

It’s such a relieving comfort that it works to lift some weight off your chest. Weight Cregan couldn’t ease when he talked to you.

Now you can ease in your mother's embrace without feeling like she hates you. Now you can caress her back without the fear of getting rejected.

Soon thereafter, neither Jacaerys nor you attempt to leave your mother's comfort. Nor does it feel like your mother wants either of you to pull away from her embrace that protects her two eldest from the cruel reality that took her third child.

You stay interlinked and weep on each other's shoulders until she pulls away to face you both.

“I have been waiting for your return to light…Lucerys pyre,” she shares. “Is it fine if we light it tonight? The sun is setting and the winds are calm.”

You and Jacaerys don’t find a reason to push the funeral back. You also know there are other matters to attend to that don't give you the luxury of sitting in your grief.

But, oh wouldn’t that be nice?

You don’t want to ignore what happened, no, that’s not what you want. You just want to take a moment to process what happened, and who did it, and tell yourself that you will no longer see your little brother Lucerys.

But no, war forces you to face reality and deal with your grief harshly on the same night you arrived from Winterfell, and at the same spot where your baby sister's funeral pyre was lit.

This time the crowd is smaller though, more intimate. Daemon isn’t even here, which isn’t surprising, but it is also disappointing that he can’t be at his wife’s side as she deals with the death of her son, and lights yet another funeral pyre. And what grows your hatred for him even more is that he can’t seem to be bothered to be a father to his daughter who just lost her betrothed. It’s a good thing Baela is at her side.

It’s also good that you can be with your family this time, dealing with your father's grief alone was devastating. There was no one besides your handmaiden Vanessa to hold your hand and embrace you when you wept. Comforting letters could never measure up to the comfort of your mother's arms or that of your siblings and your grandparents.

Now though, you stand amongst them around the fire that will burn away the only pieces you have of Lucerys, which are his things. There's not even bones to turn to ash, nothing was found of him but his cloak, and a part of his dragon's wing.

Thus Jacaerys steps up first and throws in a soft red blanket along with a piece of his clothes. Besides a few tears rolling down his face, he holds strong now, unlike before when he was in the privacy of just you and your mother, which is assuring. He definitely seems to comfort Joffrey, who throws a wooden horse in the fire, leaving you to step up next.

Yet when you step up and lift a small wooden ship you sob for the brother you’ll never be able to see grow into a man. You’ll never be able to see him marry, or see him command his fleets. You’ll never be able to watch him build a family of his own, nor will you be able to dance another song with him, he’ll be gone forever.

You throw away all those possibilities you’ll never get to see in the fire, and watch the flames eat away at the small wooden ship, and turn to ash everything you couldn’t watch your brother do.

Thick smoke rises, it infiltrates through your nose and stings your throat and eyes while also helping you realize something through the stinging pain, that being your hate for Aemond, your husband, and best friend. You were clouded with confusion before, you couldn’t let go, but you see it clearly now in the thick smoke, you hate him.

And it’s because of your realization that you don’t realize your mother is next to you until you catch her throwing in a piece of Lucery’s clothes with agony contorting her face and clouding her eyes. She lingers by the fire for a moment and you watch her shoulders shake before she steps back. You fall by her side and glance down at her empty hand before you reach over to grab it and once again be the comfort she needs in her moment of pain.

A need to go to Rhaena’s side does grow. You feel called to her side to comfort her, but once the fire starts to lose its power, and all the wooden logs turn black, you step away from your brother and mother's side, but come to a stop right away as you feel guilt again. Your mother might’ve speechlessly assured you, but Rhaena’s anger and grief is different, what if she does blame you for what Aemond did?

If you weren’t away you probably could’ve stopped Aemond, but you weren’t with him. What if she blames you for Aemond taking her betrothed?

You don’t want to be the source of more pain for your cousin, so out of fear and guilt, you don’t approach her. You avoid her and instead, let your grandfather give his condolences before embracing your grandmother.

“I heard the Queen made you her hand,” you interject and pull back to face her with a proud smile. “Congratulations, grandmother, I could think of no one more capable than you.”

Your grandmother caresses your face and offers you a sweet and thankful smile. “Thank you, my Sweet. How are you doing?” She asks with a concerned gaze.

You sigh. “I’m dealing with all my emotions, but I’m relieved that I at least don’t have to go through my grief alone this time,” you share, earning a faint smile.

“I was wondering…” you roll out hesitantly whilst you hook your arm around his to head back inside together. “…does anyone accompany you on your patrols?”

Without needing to hear the rest of what you wanted to ask, she figures out the direction you're taking this conversation.

“No,” your grandmother assures you.

“Oh, well I was wondering,” you finally get to your question. “If I could accompany you? The sea is large, together we could cover more ground. Besides,” you sweet talk her to persuade her. “Astraea is fast, and she’s grown large from her time at Winterfell. She’s good at sea. She likes to dive with me on her. And I am a good archer on Dragonback. We could help you.”

Your grandmother scoffs and flashes you a smile. “Well as much as I would like your help, we would have to ask the Queen first. Bring it up with her and if she accepts I would love to share patrol with you, it would relieve me of some work.”

You smile excitedly and nod eagerly. “Good, I’m glad. I’ll ask her at the next council meeting.”

Your grandmother offers you an encouraging smile and helps you feel some joy in the dark storm that casts over you.

Of course, no one or nothing brings you more joy than your little one, your beloved Aerion. When you see him fast asleep in his cradle your dim world lights up and you muster a happy grin.

As much as you want him to wake so he knows you’ve returned to him, you let him be and just crouch by the cradle to admire him as he sleeps.

You admire his cute round cheeks, his tiny little hands balled up to fists over his head, his thin eyelashes he got from his father, and those pink thin lips he also got from

Aemond. But most importantly you watch his chest carefully to make sure he’s breathing.

You could watch him sleep for hours on end and never tire. Especially because sometimes, just like now, you catch him smiling in his sleep and you just can’t help but swoon.

You always wondered what it is they dream about, fairytales mayhaps? Food? Their parents?

Does he dream about his father now that they’re apart? A father who loves him, and takes pride in his son? A father that you hate and…cheated on…

He killed your little brother, and you lay with Cregan because you wanted to, because you missed him, and you were upset and selfish, but now that you’re looking at your son sleeping away a different pang of guilt punctures your heart.

A guilt you shouldn’t feel, Aerion is young, he won't remember this conflict, but he will feel shame if he ever finds out you cheated on his father.

Yes, his father hurt you first, Aemond betrayed you first. He hurt you in one the worst ways possible! But…now…

Now you’re looking at Aerion and you think of how this could also hurt him. He’s young, a baby turning five months old soon, he won’t remember his life as an infant, but your secret won’t be forgotten, especially if in the future Cregan and you aren’t together.

It would hurt him so much if he ever found out. That’s what makes you cry with guilt. Not regret, you don’t regret your night with Cregan, he made you happy, but you do feel guilt and shame.

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

Does Aemond’s crime justify what you did?

You can’t help but think of that, you can’t help but think of the hate you harbor, but you also can’t stop thinking about him. About the way his family doesn’t show him the affection you do. He protects them and takes care of them, but they will never return it in the same amount.

He’s probably lonely, and brooding. He’s probably silently just lurking in his brother's council, and breaking his fasts alone.

You always tried breaking fast and eating dinners together. He always smiled when he saw the way you were dressed, especially when you wore purple. He always gave you a kiss before you drifted apart for the day, and when you saw each other he kissed you with need as if you had gone years without seeing each other.

When night came, or when you found yourselves just in a calm moment, he let his guard down and let himself be vulnerable. You loved those moments the most because it felt as if only he and you existed in this world.

Actually, he treated you like you were the only person he has ever loved. You came first all the time, even before your son. Which is selfish, but you never minded because who could treat you the same?

Cregan’s people come first, the North comes first no matter what he says. That’s why he’s not marching over here to fight himself because other priorities come first, but with Aemond, he may have his goals and his pride, but you were never held lesser than something. His anger got in the way. It’s blinding but you understand why.

You understood at least…because the truth is you can’t defend him now…

He deserves his solitude. You hate him for taking Lucerys away. That much is true and you put that over everything.

“Princess,” Vanessa’s sweet voice cuts through the blowing breeze of the sea, making you pick your eyes off your son to look into the distance.

“Vanessa,” you entertain your handmaiden with what you know she’s leading up to.

“I was wondering,” she parts her lips, but before she can finish her thought the sound of your name coming from someone else’s lips interrupts the conversation. You look back and smile faintly when you see your grandfather Corlys.

“Grandfather,” you greet sweetly as you stand up to watch him approach you at shore.

“I’m surprised to see you out here so early,” he mentions, making you scoff softly and look down at Aerion watching your grandfather carefully.

“When I saw Aerion he was sleeping, so I wanted to make up for it and spend as much time as I can before I’m called away,” you tell him and study him, noticing he’s standing up a lot straighter than before, and still using a very nice wooden cane. “I wanted to apologize for not going to visit you when you were abed. I’m more than glad to see you up now and attending to your fleet.” You smile brightly and watch him get close to watch Aerion in your arms.

“It's quite all right,” he assures you and meets your gaze. “You are a dragon rider, and the Queen's daughter, there’s a lot to do. I'm happy to see you safely returned, I know Aerion has missed you.”

You glance at your son, and as if he knew you were admiring him he glances at you and smiles before laying his head on your shoulder.

“Rhaenys and I would take him on strolls when the day gave us time,” your grandfather catches you by surprise. “The poor lad would be cooped all day with your mother gone.”

Considering Aerion the son of Aemond, you didn’t think your grandparents, especially your grandfather would much care for your son, but hearing his report really brings a warmth to your heart.

“I noticed that young Aerion quite enjoys being by the water,” your grandfather adds, making you grin and nod.

“Yes, he loves it when the waves roll over his feet,” you share giddily and caress your son's head as you return your gaze to your grandfather. “And he gets lulled to sleep by the sound of crashing waves.”

“He’ll be a fine sailor in no time.”

You hum happily at your grandfather's comment and then watch him glance out at the never-ending sea before he sighs softly, and then looks back at you with a faint smile that lets you catch a look in his eye that makes you think he’s up to something.

“Why don’t you and Aerion accompany me to Driftmark? It’s still early, and you can come back by dragonback before you’re needed,” he suggests.

You have been meaning to keep your mind off all the racing thoughts that kept you up at night, and well, you are extremely curious. It’s not common for him to invite you to accompany him anywhere. That’s what your grandmother does.

“Vanessa,” you address your handmaiden, and give your grandfather an answer. “Return inside, if anyone asks for me tell them where I am and that I will return soon.”

Your handmaiden offers you a comprehensive nod and goes off to do as you asked, letting you walk with your grandfather toward his boat under the morning sky pampered with fluffy white clouds that make you feel a smidge of joy as certain memories infiltrate your mind.

“On nice days like these my father would take me sailing,” you muse with your grandfather. “I’m pretty sure the septa giving me lessons would despise when he would pull me from my lessons since I was a princess and had no business doing boy stuff, but,” you grin softly. “He was the prince consort, he did as he pleased and my mother never minded. Besides, I encouraged him,” you pause and feel your eyes begin to sting without much warning.

“He taught me a lot of ships…I miss him,” you finish in a whisper.

Your grandfather lets out a deep sigh and you see him nod along with you from the corner of your eye.

“Did he teach you how to read maps?” Your grandfather wonders.

You nod. “Yes, and star charts. I could learn more about those, but I could follow the stars North and to King’s Landing with no map. He…never tried to leave anything out, he was always so excited.”

Your grandfather hums and you glance over at him to address something else on your chest. “I’m glad you decided to side your fleet and Driftmark with my mother.”

His dark eyes meet yours and he quirks a brow. “Why would I side with Aegon?”

Well besides him being a man, there’s also the fact that it’s highly theorized Daemon killed his son. You believe and hate him for it, but no matter how much you want to share that belief, you bite your tongue and shrug as if it was just a concerned-filled thought.

Your grandfather understands your speechless response and holds your gaze as he gives his vague response. “I had many reasons to side with your mother.”

You offer him a simple proud smile and reach his boat in a peaceful silence only filled by the crashing waves and the cawing of seabirds. You had hoped to feel a hint of those exciting and tender feelings you oftentimes felt with your father when you were out at sea, but even if you walk with his father, those feelings you ache to reconnect to aren’t anywhere close, reminding you that you’ll never be with your father ever again, or have a bond with any father-figure.

Albeit your grandfather does let you sail the boat to Driftmark, but as excited you do feel to show off your skills and once again maneuver a boat, you still feel empty within.

“My dragon loves the sea,” you begin to say with the intention of persuading him to use your aid at sea whilst you keep an eye on the distant waters. “And I have learned how to use a bow and arrow on dragonback, perhaps I could be the dragon rider to protect your fleet when battle hits our shores, or we attack theirs,” you finish and peer back at him with a sly grin, unknowingly reminding him of his son when he was your age and eager to prove his worth. You even wore the same sly smile Laenor wore when he was proving himself a fine sailor and dragonrider.

“That…” he starts off quietly but then clears his throat and sounds as mighty as ever. “That would honor me.”

You offer him a happy smile over your shoulder and then let your gaze fall on Aerion strapped on your chest, noticing him watching the waves with his eyes wide and full of wonder.

However, the wonder slowly gets lost as he starts to get lulled to sleep. He tries to fight the sleep to keep watching the moving waves, but he’s outmatched and loses himself to sleep not long before you arrive at Driftmark’s shore.

Unlike Dragonstone, Driftmark is more lively with people; both townspeople and soldiers from the fleets as well as those who work on your grandfather's massive ship. Some seem worried that something could happen at any given moment, while others seem to be happy just mindlessly living.

You begin to wonder about that happiness, you don’t envy their joy, a part of you resents all these people being so happy and living their lives unaffected by the death of Driftmark’s Heir. You wonder why it is they don’t feel what you’re plagued with, you want them to feel your sorrow.

But then you do realize that you’re just letting your pain cloud your judgment.

“Besides having you accompany me,” your grandfather interjects, pulling your attention away from the large ship. “I wanted to share something I have been thinking of as of late.”

You clasp your hands together and out of instinct reach out to fiddle with the ring Aemond gave you, but you’re then surprised when you feel that your ringer finger is bare.

You spare a glance at your finger and drift your gaze to the ground, but you’re then reminded of the fact that you left your ring behind in your borrowed quarters at Castle Black.

You probably won’t ever see it again…

“…I was hoping that when Aerion is older he could be my ward,” your grandfather catches your attention and makes you furrow your eyebrows and look at him with disbelief, and slightly bothered.

“Of course,” he continues, “he won’t have to join me until he’s much older, but he is Laenor’s grandson, I want him to know the sea, and I want to teach him about ships and how to command fleets like I taught your father.”

You glance at your sleeping son and cradle the back of his head as if protecting him from being parted from you.

“He’s the son of a second son, he won’t inherit a crown or a castle from his father, but he could inherit…my title.”

You snap your eyes over to him and come to a slow stop as you’re overcome with surprise. You want to be filled with pride and joy, but there’s an obstacle that stops you. “But,” you mutter your thought out loud. “He is Aemond’s son. A man who opposes us. A man who killed your heir.”

Your grandfather turns away from his ship and faces you, and doesn’t fail to nod in agreement. “Aye, he is the son of Prince Aemond, but Aerion has salt-littered blood. He is the grandson of Laenor Velaryon, my son.”

Aerion is also your son, and you are also your father's firstborn, and only biological child, but he doesn’t seem to ever mention that! What are you, a painted portrait?

You would’ve loved to inherit Driftmark and his title of Lord of the Tides, but no!

You would ask about Rhaena getting that chance before Aerion since she is the daughter of his only daughter, but you don’t see that having a good answer, so you don’t even waste your breath.

“What of Joffrey?” You bring up. “He should be your heir.”

Your grandfather sighs and nods stiffly but quickly counters you. “Perhaps, but I want it to be Aerion. The grandson of my son.”

It’s not hard to realize the actual truth behind his response; Joffrey is the bastard son of your father. With Lucerys gone, he can actually name an actual Velaryon his heir. It doesn’t seem fair, your father loved your brothers whether they were his or not, but who are you to deny Aerion of a fruitful future?

He comes first now, and it doesn’t seem like your grandfather is actually asking your permission or for your actual thoughts, his mind seems mind up, so with a deep breath and a hesitant smile you accept what he brings up. “That…would make me happy. And I’m sure it would’ve made my father happy.”

Your grandfather offers you a smile and surprises you by patting your shoulder as an endearing gesture that brings a…silence where you smile faintly out of pride, but you can’t help but think what next. You’ve never actually spent so much time with your grandfather, and if you do your grandmother has always been with you.

“Why don’t you show your knowledge on the ship,” your grandfather luckily drifts the attention over.

However, just as you approach the plank resting on the dock, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder and interjecting loudly. “Alyn!”

You follow his gaze and blink repeatedly in surprise when you see the same Addam of Hull who fought in your engagement tourney.

When the man’s eyes fall on you beside your grandfather his lips part in surprise, but when he reaches you he closes his mouth and bows his head. “Princess,” he greets you properly right away.

“Ser,” you greet him quite excitedly.

“Good,” your grandfather cuts in and steps back. “You remember each other.”

You drift your gaze to your grandfather and express your confusion with knitted eyebrows that he helps ease with a quick response. “I sent him to check on you for me when I was fighting in the Step Stones.”

Instead of going to you himself?

Whatever.

“Really?” You ask with more surprise. “Well thank you, he was a very excellent jouster who brought Driftmark and me great pride.”

Alyn offers you a stiff smile and bows his head as a thank you.

“Good, I’m glad to hear he can’t show his skill,” your grandfather fills the man’s silence. “Why don’t I let you get reacquainted.”

Without room to argue he walks away and leaves you alone with Ser Alyn—or is it just Alyn since it was your grandfather who sent him?

“Seeing you again makes this world feel small. I never thought our paths would cross again,” you fill the silence to avoid awkward silences.

“In truth neither did I,” he admits. “But it is an honor.”

You offer him a smile and notice how much more muscular he is now compared to before. He’s also a lot more serious too.

“Who—”

“Alyn!”

You both turn your attention to the caller, and you see a tall and thin man with long dreadlocks approaching with a bright and charming grin that immediately works to intrigue you.

Albeit when he notices your unique white hair, your long and elegant red gown finer than any material he’s touched; accompanied with shiny gold jewelry on your hands and neck, he realizes that you are no ordinary woman. The man’s grin slowly disappears at the realization and he slows down towards Alyn. Once he’s finally nearby he straightens up and doesn’t fail to bow when he joins you and Alyn.

“My Princess,” the mystery man greets you with a nervous but charming smile that actually serves to completely get rid of any tension or awkward atmosphere he could’ve brought.

“Princess,” Alyn interjects and looks at the man in blue beside him. “This is my brother Addam. Addam, this is the Princess, granddaughter of Lord Corlys Velaryon.”

You and Addam meet each other's gaze and that snobby princess Addam already imagined you’d be upon laying eyes on you completely falls apart when you offer him a bright smile in return. You perhaps are one of the most majestic beauties he’s ever laid his eyes on, he can’t help but think. Even from afar you were luminous and almost like an illusion, but from up close he could see your beauty was no illusion, he could see a sadness in your eyes, but so much more that intrigued him.

You give him your name and Addam’s eyes proceed to fall on the sleeping infant strapped on your chest. “Who is this?”

You cradle your baby's head and introduce him to Addam and Alyn. “This is my son, Aerion Targaryen.”

“Hm, not one to care about first impressions I see,” Addam throws out boldly, making his brother shoot him a warning glare. You, however, laugh genuinely in return, which is something that surprises even you. You didn’t think you could ever laugh the way you just did again.

“He takes after his father,” you mirror his humor.

“Well, we’ll let this lad get away with it this time.”

You scoff and nod. “I’ll make sure he’s more prepared next time,” you remark lightheartedly.

He hums and glances over at his brother. “Could I ask how you met?”

“At a tourney,” you answer for Alyn. “Last year. Apparently, he was sent by my grandfather.”

“Tourney?” Addam asks as if it’s the first time hearing of it. “Aren’t you supposed to be a knight?”

“Actually I was trying to get to that too,” you share and both wait for a response from the serious man.

“Well I was surprised to see what money could buy,” he remarks. “I was deceitful when I entered. I am no knight.”

You hum and ease his growing worry right away by assuring him. “Well, I would say you were actually quite entertaining and impressive. You fought well and won.”

Addam pats his brother's back and whispers, “I’m proud of you.”

You watch Addam offer his brother a very faint smile and you can’t help but remember the grief you had pushed aside as you remember the brother you lost.

“I was hoping to have some early brunch with my brother,” Addam now directs at you. “But it seems insignificant now that you have graced us with your presence.”

You can't help but smile with amusement and feel slightly flattered. Addam is surely more outgoing than his brother in a way that doesn’t fail to catch your interest and actually helps bring attention to his fierce spirit that you can’t help but feel the need to get to know.

Actually meeting him makes you feel like you found something you had been in search of your whole life.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- romantic or platonic? (For those who have read moonlight before already know but please don’t spoil it for the rest heheh :)

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638

[teratosfavouritesnack]

| Masterlist |

First of all let me introduce myself and my blog.

Hiii, fellow monster lovers and welcome! I'm Näckros and this is my monster friendly (too friendly) side blog where I post any cute or filthy thought that crosses my mind. English is not my first language so if I make any mistakes please tell me so I can improve. I'm a porn with plot type of gal, which means that I tend to set the mood of the story before I get into the smut stuff, so (were)bear that in mind! And on that note, THIS IS A 18+ BLOG SO MINORS, BEGONE 💋

This blog is a safe space for all the weirdos and the delulus who think that they could get railed by werebeasts, minotaurs, orcs, dragons, weird aliens, giants even, and not be ripped in two. The fictional world is amazing precisely because we can do whatever the hell we want in it so let's forget the realistic technicalities while we're here, yeah? Let's allow our imagination to run free and enjoy what it comes up with. Let's be degenerates together. <3

My ask box is always open - you can send questions or open discussions about any theme regarding monsters; you can send requests of monsters you'd like to read a story about; you can send suggestions, share your own fantasies, recommending books, movies, videogames, other blogs; you can also send me feedback on things I've written (it's always highly appreciated and motivating). I do not put any limits - If I don't like something, I will simply not answer.

My DMs are also always open for anyone who wants to chat and become mutuals, but please be patient with me if I'm late to answer. I swear I'm not ignoring you, I'm just anxious + lazy + unable to manage time but also always doing something, which could be either writing stories for this blog, or fanfictions for my main blog or making digital art for my art side blog. So yeah, I won't always be avaliable, nor will I post daily on here.

I have a Ko-fi where you can leave tips if you like what I write and you want (but mostly, can) support me. I write for my own enjoyment of course but I'm a jobless student and money unfortunately is scarse. So even just a small tip as a 'thank you' can help me.

What else can I add?

BE RESPECTFUL - DO NOT SHAME ANYONE FOR THEIR KINKS - DO NOT BE RUDE - DO NOT COPY OR REPOST OR TRANSLATE OR MODIFY MY STORIES IN ANY WAY

That being said, enjoy your stay and thank you for following this weirdo here and enjoying the products of her weird mind 💜

SFW | scenarios - imagines - fics

Cold Hands -> vampire boyfriend x afab!human

Nighttime Muse -> vampire boyfriend x human

Meet Cute -> minotaur x human - more about this

Accidental Summoning -> demon-like creature x afab!human

Bouncer in Love -> [part 2] - [part 3 coming soon] werebear bouncer x afab!human

Death in Childbirth -> dragon husband x afab!human

Cat and Mouse -> werepanther biker x afab!human

NSFW | scenarios - imagines - fics

Period Tracker -> werewolf boyfriend x afab!human

The Lover -> [part.2 coming soon] unknown monster x afab!human

First Date with BFF -> werewolf x human

Ready For His Cock -> minotaur boyfriend x afab!human

Big Bad Wolf -> werewolf boyfriend x human

Well-Fed Cat -> cat hybrid boyfriend x afab!human

Tests Subjects -> werebear x human [longer fic coming soon]

Prankster -> [part 2] ghost x afab!human

Pouncing Panther -> werepanther husband x human

Dirty Hobby -> roommate!werewolf x afab!human

Wet for the Doctor -> gyno!lizard man x afab!human [longer fic]

Tavern Orgy -> multiple monsters x fem!human

Companionship in the Labyrinth -> minotaur x afab!human

Cow Dreams -> alien x afab!human

Helping Hand -> centaur x human

Ishtà-kurme -> husband!orc x chubby!fem!human x husband's sons

_

Jack of all Trades -> robot x afab!human

Full of Eggs -> mothman x afab!reader

Search #teratosnack's poll for all the polls I made

Search #monster art or #terato art for the beautiful art I reblog

Search #teratosnack for all my stories

Search #snack answered; for my answers to your asks

Credits to @ anitalenia for all the dividers I use for my posts 🫶🏻

[callsign-rogueone]

our girl - d.a + x.r.

Dain Aetos x reader x Xaden Riorson You and Xaden have been hooking up for a while now, but Threshing throws a wrench (and another person) into your relationship. [request] words: 2.5k (went a little overboard lol, this dynamic was so fun to think about) 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS. NSFW at the end. she/her reader. I did this one a little differently; a full scene with dialogue, and then headcanons about what the relationship would be like (sfw, nsfw + angst; I apologize in advance…) banner made by user cafekitsune!

You dismount, managing to land on your feet. Maybe the gauntlet had been good practice after all, and not just a form of torture. The flight field is slowly filling in with dragons and their chosen riders. Dain is standing next to you with a massive red daggertail. Nice.

Your two dragons look at each other, and for a moment you’re worried they’re going to start a fight, but they just bump heads softly. They’re… friends?

Then Dain’s dragon turns toward you, looking you in the eye, and you freeze, holding completely still as it sniffs you. You must pass inspection, because he pulls back after a few seconds, satisfied, but you don’t dare move, your heart still pounding.

“Relax, girl. I will not hurt you.”

You startle at the second voice speaking to you, stumbling back in shock. A shimmering red string has appeared beside the soft blue one you share with Lann. You tug on it gently, and Dain’s eyes snap toward you, having felt the pull.

“They’re mated.”

“Smart boy,” Cath purrs.

You’re still trying to get used to having another being speaking in your head, hearing your every thought, but now you have two?

You don’t have time to complain about it before Xaden comes running toward you.

Both Lann and Cath stand taller, flaring their nostrils. Cath looks like he’s contemplating how Xaden would taste.

Xaden comes to a stop a few yards away, not wanting to provoke them. It’s easy enough for him to put it together, seeing Dain standing behind you with the mated pair. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Cath blows a puff of foul-smelling steam at Xaden in warning. “Tell him to watch his tone.” 

You don’t.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Xaden says, a look in his eye you’ve never seen before; pure anger.

You take a step back, bumping into Lann’s foreleg. She curls her neck down, placing her head between your body and Xaden’s. You’ve only been bonded all of ten minutes, but she’s already willing to protect you with her life.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Dain challenges, crossing his arms. “Nor is it mine.” 

Your stomach flips. You’d never expected that Dain would be the one defending you here.

“I should gut you before the bond gets any stronger,” Xaden threatens. What is he so mad for?

“You of all people should know that the consequences can be dire. You won’t risk her life in that way.”

“What the hell are the two of you talking about?” You ask, but they don’t answer, too busy threatening each other.

“Human males and their arguing,” Lann sighs. “Were they dragons, they’d fight to the death and the victor would keep you.”

“That remains a possibility,” you reply quietly, still watching the two of them. Xaden certainly looks like he’s contemplating murder right now. 

“I could just incinerate him, but Sgaeyl would have my head if I did,” Cath muses, sounding bored. “And you seem attached.”

You turn to glare at him. “Not funny.”

“Threats from someone your size are only humorous,” Cath replies, still watching the two men argue.

“Like it or not, Riorson, she’s my responsibility now,” Dain says firmly. What is that supposed to mean? Why does Dain care all of a sudden if you live or die?

“Do not forget that you have a voice in this matter, too,” Lann adds.

She’s right.

“Quit it, both of you!” You interrupt before they can come to blows, and both boys turn toward you, quieting. “Stop talking about me like I’m not even here!”

Their eyes soften.

“Darling, I didn’t mean-�� Xaden begins.

You cross your arms over your chest, glaring up at the boy. “I’m not done,” you say, and he falls silent. “Dain’s right; neither of us asked for this, but it happened, and there’s no changing it now. I know you two hate each other, but I will not have you two fighting over me like I’m some kind of object. Neither of you have any claim to me. I’m not your girlfriend, and even if I was, you still don’t own me. I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions and keep myself safe.”

Neither of them respond, silent and guilty as your words settle in.

“And that is why I chose you,” Lann says proudly.

You ignore the compliment, stepping away from her and turning to leave, swiping the tears from your cheeks.

“I apologize, shrewd one.”

“It’s okay,” you say quietly. “You didn’t know.”

—————————————————

“Professor Kaori?” You ask quietly. “Can I ask you a few questions?”

He already knows why you’re here. “I heard about you and Aetos. Cath and Lann have been mated for nearly two centuries. Their bond is strong.”

“Have you known many other pairs like them?”

“A few,” he answers. “Dragons can live for millennia. Unlike us, they do not fall in love at age twenty, and they are quite selective with their partner. It is a lifelong commitment for them, and not one they take lightly.”

“And their riders?” You ask, holding your breath.

“A pair at Montserrat, who are now married, and another pair who regard each other like blood sisters.” 

He doesn’t mention anyone like you and Dain, who hardly know each other and don’t really care to.

“I‘ll make this clear with you, cadet, as you need to know this and accept it; you and Aetos will be stuck together until the end of your days. The four of you must exist as a functional unit. The grief of one of your deaths may be enough to end you all.”

Your eyes widen. So that’s why Xaden had been so pissed.

“You are both excellent students who will undoubtedly become skilled riders,” Kaori says. “Get to know each other in the coming weeks, and settle your differences sooner than later. The health of your relationship, even if it remains strictly professional, is vital.”

You thank him quietly, heading back to your room. You don’t have time to stew over the news; you have assignments due tomorrow.

Two hours pass. You’ve just finished proofreading your essay when there’s a knock on the door.

Dain and Xaden. You motion for them to come in, knowing that the two of them together outside your door will look deeply suspicious to any passerby. 

“What the fuck do you two want?”

Xaden nods at Dain, motioning for him to talk.

“We discussed it, and we realized you’re right. We’re just going to have to deal with this, and there’s no use in us fighting about it.”

Xaden speaks next. “You’ve proven that you can handle yourself, but we both still want to protect you. We care for you deeply, and that’s not going to change. We’re declaring a truce.”

“Whose idea was that?” You ask, wary.

“His,” Dain answers. Interesting. 

You look to Xaden. “And you’re fine with this,” you say, motioning between you and Dain, “that we’ll be able to speak directly to each other, that we can’t be apart for more than a few days, that we’re going to be stationed together for life?”

“Yes. I trust him not to hurt you, if only because his life is now tied to yours.”

That’s high praise coming from Riorson, who doesn’t fully trust anyone. You don’t dare ask why he feels this way.

“As you said,” Xaden continues, the tone of his voice making your heart flutter, “I hold no claim to you. You remain your own person, no matter how strongly I feel for you or how many nights we have spent together. The decision lies with you.”

“Dain?” You ask. 

He’s been silent, watching you with a softness in his eyes. He’d never taken a good look at you before, never appreciated how beautiful you are. “If he’s okay with it, and you are, then I am too.”

You’d never felt compassion for Dain, never cared if he lived or died, but now you’re overwhelmed with a sense that you need to protect him — to guard that little red string until your last breath. “I care for both of you as well. You’re both good men, who are important to me, and I’d like to have you remain in my life, if you promise to play nicely.”

You extend a pinky to each of them.

Dain looks confused.

“She doesn’t fuck around with pinky promises. This might as well be a blood oath for her,” Xaden explains, interlocking your fingers — this isn’t new to him.

Dain reaches forward, the warmth of his skin against yours sending a wave of soothing energy through you.

“Are you going to make us pinky promise each other too?” He asks playfully, the first joke you’ve ever heard him crack.

Xaden is unamused. “Don’t push it, Aetos.”

You giggle at his barely-restrained contempt. This is gonna be fun.

———————————————

sfw

Most of the quadrant know that yours and Dain’s dragons are mated, and that messing with one of the four of you means invoking the wrath of the other three. For the first time since conscription day, you can walk the halls alone without fearing for your life.

Nobody is aware of Xaden’s role in the relationship, and he prefers to keep it that way — it keeps the target off your back, and this way nobody can say that he’s giving you special treatment or shame you for having two partners. Garrick is the only person who knows about all of this, and he’s sworn to secrecy (that had certainly been an interesting conversation to have).

Xaden may not declare his feelings for you publicly, but he and Sgaeyl are always watching your back, ready to jump in should Dain not be there or should things get out of his control.

The two act generally indifferent to each other, but their love of you is enough for them to behave when you’re around.

They find a good balance between treating you like a princess and pushing you to be the best you can be, letting you do your own work and prepare yourself for what’s to come after graduation. 

nsfw:

The first time you felt Lann and Cath going at it was... interesting.

Xaden knew that this would happen eventually, having felt the same feeling before from Tairn and Sgaeyl. He had warned you days prior that the overwhelming need could lead you astray easily, but that he wouldn’t be mad if you and Dain acted on it.

And act you did. You became addicted to Dain’s touch as soon as you felt it, not wanting it to be a one-time thing, and that’s when the three of you decided that the boys would share you.

We all know Xaden is possessive. He used to call you “my girl” when it was just the two of you hooking up, but now you’re their girl.

“Aww, is our pretty girl needy?”

“I think our girl deserves a reward for being so good.”

Dain is shy at first, but he works up the confidence to start teasing you through the bond. He loves to watch you squirm from across the room as his voice speaks directly into your mind, telling you how hot you looked sparring, what he’s going to do to you tonight…

Xaden does something similar, his shadows brushing your arms and neck, sometimes even slipping under your clothes to touch your body when he can’t, giving soft caresses to your back and waist, but he’ll never take it too far — just enough to make you want his hands on you instead. 

They’re competitive as hell. They’ll tag team you, taking turns to see who can make you cum harder/faster. Your personal record is six times in one night, three apiece before you nearly passed out. They declared a tie, putting aside their egos to care for their sweet girl who had taken it all so well for them.

Sometimes you get both of them at once, and it’s a little overwhelming but so so good. Making out with one while the other is on his knees for you, or one holding your hand and telling you how pretty you look while the other pounds you into the mattress…

The two of them together are the ultimate brat taming combo, with Dain’s strictness and Xaden’s strength. If you give them attitude, get too cozy with another rider, purposely put yourself in danger, or neglect to take care of yourself (overworking, skipping meals, not getting enough sleep…), you’ll have some consequences to face when you’re back behind closed doors that night.

Xaden will tie your hands behind your back with his shadows, Dain edging you until you cry and apologize, promising that you’ll never break their rules again (but you inevitably do, and then they have to teach you your lesson all over again, hehe)

Despite how rough they can be with you, they always take incredibly good care of you afterward, staying to clean you up and hold you close, reminding you how much they love you.

You’re always in the middle when cuddling afterward, as they refuse to touch each other more than absolutely necessary, but you don’t complain, just happy to be held and fall asleep safe between your two strong men 🥰

and now some angst, because that’s what I do:

When you and Dain came back from RSC, bloody and limp, Xaden took care of both of you, finally showing some love to Dain and taking pity on him, helping bandage his wounds and wash the dried blood from his skin.

Eventually Xaden starts distancing himself from the two of you, worried that Dain will read his memories either on purpose or by accident, and find out about his dealings with the gryphon fliers, which you have no idea about.

He plays it off as being busy with third year / wingleader stuff, and you and Dain don’t think anything of it; Xaden has always been withdrawn, never the type to share his thoughts unprompted, and he likes to spend time alone.

When Violet bonds with Tairn at threshing, you realize how Xaden had felt when he realized you and Dain were tied together, only you were less angry and more sad. 

You knew this would happen, that Tairn would have to choose a rider eventually, but it still hurt you deeply. Dain held you all night, whispering sweet things to you while you cried and promising that he would never ever leave you.

You decide to rip the bandage off first, finding Xaden alone a few days later and telling him that for the sake of all four of you and your dragons, this should end here.

He agreed quietly, giving you one last kiss and holding you for a few minutes before finally letting go. 

When Basgiath found out about the revolution, about everything going on beyond the wards, the two of you didn’t hesitate to follow Xaden to Aretia — he may no longer be yours, but you still love him and would gladly fight by his side until the end of your days. 💔

[dragon-curse-au]

Strange artifacts have been appearing around Earthbread after a rift split open the skies for but a moment; Cookies that come into contact with them become cursed with the ability to turn into dragons. While this may not initially be threatening, the potential for it to turn the tides of the war against Dark Enchantress Cookie is very worrying. Though, perhaps just this once, her and her forces are the least of our problems. A dark force has begun to stir in Beast-Yeast, and it is making itself known with a grand performance of the likes no cookie has seen before. If a Beast were to get their hands on an Ancient with but a fraction of the power a dragon holds, it could mean the end of all things as we know it.

Welcome to the official blog for the Dragon Curse AU, run by me, Canid ( @cryptidcanid19 ), and my years-long-best-friend Dragon ( @artdragon122 ). This whole thing started with them, so go give him some love and appreciation!! I myself will be writing a fic for this AU, but we'll both be providing plenty of art as well, let alone late night musings that we came up with while brainstorming.

Asks are always open if you have questions, suggestions, or just comments. Can be character specific or broad enough for the AU as a whole! All WE ask for is to be nice, y'know? Don't be problematic.

This AU will contain 16+ material because of some of the darker tones and sometimes mildly suggestive content (mostly through jokes), so please keep that in mind. And, singing it loud and clear in case it isn't your thing: This HEAVILY revolves around shipping, with some relationships much more prominent than others. Every character is queer somehow. Again, restating to be nice. If any of this isn't your thing there's this lovely thing called a block button at your disposal :]

That being said, enjoy! We're just having fun here and sharing our thoughts. Most if not all posts will be organized by tags, including specific characters, which mod made the post, whether something is an art post or not, etc. I'll add in a little tag guide in a reblog once we get things sorted out.

[writingwenches]

Westerosi Zodiac

situation — I needed to create a zodiac that had no seasons attachment, on a twelve month rotating calendar. I broke down the three main categories the signs fall under: modalities, seasons, and their elements. This is first/second draft of the animal ideas, I'm totally open to other categories measurements and animal representatives.

Seasons (Tell Time) — instead of months of set seasons, I turned this into Moon Phases

Spring: Waxing

Summer: Full Moon

Fall: Waning

Winter: New Moon

Element (Masculine v Feminine) — changed to "Guardians of Ruling Consolations"; I wanted to lean into the Masculine and Feminine energies of our signs, because Westeros needs all the Feminine energy it can get tbh. The elements are based on the Hippocrates types (sanguine, choleric, melancholic, phlegmatic) and I don't think asoiaf uses this, so I made some new ones~

Fire: Knight/War General

Earth: Mother/Diplomat

Air: Smith/King/Ruler

Water: Maiden/Healer

Modalities (Transitional Phases) — turned into Times of Day, my other option was states of water (liquid/solid/mist), but tbh google can tell me what animals are crepuscular, but I don’t have enough drugs to say which animals is a mist…so…

Cardinal: Day

Fixed: Night

Mutable: Morning/Evening

*Cardinal gets Day because Ares is the first sign in the Zodiac and called dibs, and because I was high it fit the vibe, I'm up for hearing alternatives 🤷🏻

Ares; Cardinal of Spring + Fire

under a Waxing Moon; during the Day; ruled by the Knight Westeros — Dragon

Taurus; Fixed of Spring + Earth

under a Waxing Moon; during the Night; ruled by the Mother Westeros — Lion

Gemini; Mutable of Spring + Air

under a Waxing Moon; during the Transition; ruled by the Smith Westeros — Falcon

Cancer; Cardinal of Summer + Water

under a Full Moon; during the Day, ruled by the Maiden Westeros — Sheep

Leo; Fixed of Summer + Fire

under a Full Moon; during the Night, ruled by the Knight Westeros — Snake Dorne — Scorpion

Virgo; Mutable of Summer + Earth

under a Full Moon; during the Transition, ruled by the Mother Westeros — Raven (as a messenger)

Libra; Cardinal of Fall + Air

under a Waning Moon; during the Day, ruled by the Smith Westeros — Ox

Scorpio; Fixed of Fall + Water

under a Waning Moon; during the Night, ruled by the Maiden Westeros — Kraken Elsewhere — Mermaid

Sagittarius; Mutable of Fall + Fire

under a Waning Moon; during the Transition, ruled by the Knight Westeros — Horse (depicted armored) Elsewhere — Elephant

Capricorn; Cardinal of Winter + Earth

under a New Moon; during the Day, ruled by the Mother Westeros — Trout (or any Fish)

Aquarius; Fixed of Winter + Air

under a New Moon; during the Night, ruled by the Smith Westeros — Wolf

Pisces; Mutable of Winter + Water

under a New Moon; during the Transition, ruled by the Maiden Westeros — Bear

the zodiac story

I was thinking something similar to the Chinese Zodiac? In that fable, TLDR the gods invite them to a party and they arrive in a certain order because of mystical shenanigans. Totally open to ideas and musing~

Just Notes

Because the three categories are based off the western zodiac, I would imagine that the Westeros animal versions would still have the personalty traits of the Western zodiac~ Feel free to add on, or offer polite suggestions, or other options for sorting the signs! Obvs, feel free to use this!

[apicelladonna]

Some your middle-aged married Albus&Gellert headcanons?

Where to begin!? These are general musings whether they stayed together in another lifetime or met in secrets during the war.

Albus-Gellert middle aged married fellas let's go

Beverage of choice: Tea and black coffee (Gellert swears that he saw Albus dump a whole sugar bowl into his tea but still frowned and say it wasn't sweet enough for his liking)

Mornings: Albus is a early riser because of his morning classes while you couldn't wake Gellert (night owl) even if it there was a raid unless a necessity.

Bookmarks: Leaf pressed personalized bookmark gift from Elphias- Doesn't or it will crease the binds so he just remembers the page.

When mad: Cold silent anger - passive aggressive temper

Perspective roles: The Sword & The Pen

Love language: Acts of service - Words of encouragement

Favorite body part of their partner:

(Albus: Gellert's hands when they swing animatedly when he is very vocal with his afternoon rants. Or choke him)

(Gellert: Albus' blue eyes that sucked him deep into its trenches and he gladly drowned in them. Albus' plump bottoms/thy lovely peaches to behold)

Endearment

(Albus to Gellert): 'Dear boy', 'Darling' 'My Cherished Stars',

(Gellert to Albus): 'Schatz' 'Sonnenschein', Any of the languages he can speak that has the endearment close to 'Precious Treasure' he's said it-

Blood troth: Albus kisses Gellert's lips first then the troth, Gellert kisses the scar on Albus' hand first then their troth.

Public Displays of Affection (Albus): Discreet pinky finger holding, the shit you see in Bridgerton and more, says I love you to Gellert with his eyebrow scrunch-

PDA (Gellert): He is a damn peacock with what we've seen in the Lestrange Mausoleum rally where he just shines their blood troth for all to see that he's taken. Basically: This is my husband, have you read his research article regarding the advantages of not eight but twelve properties of Dragon blood? Astounding man he is. Too humble for himself. Here have a copy-

Bedroom intimacies: gone were the days of fiery passion of their youth, when they are in their own little world, when they are alone in their bedroom, a hotel room in europe or where ever Gellert's rallies or Albus' conference were, it was selfishness of the two combined to think they had the time to map out each other's skin, scars, freckles, and marks..

There is no urgency to reach a state of euphoria, each kiss and touch was already bliss in borrowed time.

They will argue for hours end about the most mundane things.

Gellert: Does Albus like me?

Vinda: You do know you are married to him?

Gellert: I know but does he LIKE me?

One time, both were dead tired from their perspective ordeals that they just collapsed on their bed still wearing their coats and shoes.

Clothes: Simple sweaters - vain bastard, only the best silk shirts (Gellert gets colorbinded the minute Albus' wardrobe turned into a variety of bright plum, yellow, and blue. What a way to go-)

Pastime : Discovered a fondness for knitting - Catch up on the books he bought years ago from various old libraries he'd been to in Europe

Godric's Hollow: Will always visit Bathilda for tea if they are in the area and then end their day by visiting and cleaning up Ariana's gravestone.

Favorite color:

(Albus) Gold

(Gellert) Blue

Feel free to add your own takes! Thank you again for this question! I'm sorry it took me long but I wanted to give it my all. Cheers!

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

OLIVIA COOKE INTERVIEWED FOR FLAUNT MAGAZINE.

Waiting just beyond reality’s gauzy guardians, the other world lies just under the duvet in the throes of school night darkness: a library book stuffed under a pillow, a cave of blankets, thrilling stalactites of story to be illuminated by a covert flashlight.

That’s how Olivia Cooke remembers her induction into the fantastical, anyway.

“Reading all night, and then sobbing into my pillow at 4am—audibly—with my mum shouting at me to go to sleep.”

Cooke isn’t taking any breaks—she’s already working on a new project with Robin Wright, psychological thriller The Girlfriend, set to be released through Amazon Prime Video.

The actor has a propensity for vivifying characters to the fullest extent regardless of medium or genre:

“I am picky,” she tells me about the breadth of her work,

“But I’m just not exclusive.”

WHAT IS IT THAT AUDIENCES LOVE SO MUCH ABOUT MUTILATION AND POWER, ABOUT CREATUREHOOD AND POLITICS IN WESTEROS, THE LAND UPON WHICH GAME OF THRONES AND HOUSE OF THE DRAGON IS SET?

Cooke muses, people are fascinated with the idea of escape—an out that the Game of Thrones franchise has certainly provided to an anxious, overworked public.

She ponders further, positing:

“We as humans want to feel like we’re giants and godlike creatures who can tame a beast like a dragon. Maybe it’s this innate feeling in us of the need to conquer."

“God, especially the fucking Brits.” [She laughs]

“What does that say about us?”

I ASK COOKE IF THE EXCITEMENT SURROUNDING THE SERIES—PARTICULARLY THE QUESTIONS SHE (GLADLY) FIELDS ABOUT THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP—HAD MADE ANY IMPACT ON THE WAY SHE FRAMES HER OWN RELATIONSHIPS?

“I don’t think that the show has necessarily made me reevaluate friendship.”

“I just think that with the age that I am at now, getting into a new decade, I’ve prioritized my friendships in a different way.”

“I think that, especially in culture, [friendship] sort of takes the backseat.”

“You’re meant to prioritize romantic relationships and familial relationships in your life, but friendships feel deeper and everlasting in a sense.”

WE APPROACH THE SUBJECT OF POWER—THE TIMES WHERE IT'S APPROPRIATE TO KEEP IT, THE TIMES WHERE IT'S APPROPRIATE TO DELEGATE:

“I think it’s always better to relinquish power when you recognize wisdom.”

“Relinquish unhelpful power, whether that be insecurity or ego, when you are confronted with someone who has more lived experience or is just more knowledgeable in said field.” Duly noted.

Cooke feels the most powerful, though, when she’s surrounded by friends, going on walks listening to a well-curated playlist, or when she really finds the music in a particular scene.

Though she doesn’t make music herself, there is a symphonic quality to her acting—it’s the same sort of kinetic energy governed by a discernible rhythm that makes any sort of artistic output worthwhile.

“It’s all sort of coming from the vulnerable prism of you, isn’t it? Any sort of creative endeavor.”

OLIVIA COOKE MAKES A PLAYLIST FOR EVERY CHARACTER SHE'S EVER PLAYED—SAVE FOR ALICENT.

She claims she “doesn’t know why,” but one might suspect tracks for the Alicent playlist wouldn’t be readily accessible on any sort of streaming platform...

Perhaps a Gregorian chant or a live recording of a knife being sharpened on a hot stone would be more appropriate.

ACROSS ALL CREATIVE MEDIUMS, ACTING OR OTHERWISE.

Cooke adds that she’s “trying to nurture that spark of vulnerability and not shy away from it is quite important.”

“We’re so mannered now— especially the English—so repressed in that sense. We still have this culture of having a very stiff upper lip in the face of adversity and real emotion and grief.”

“To be able to play those emotions in a really intense way—but in a very safe environment—feels very cathartic, and it’s an opportunity to push yourself to those limits and see, as an experiment, what your body does and how you would react in those moments.”

“You’re always trying to find the truth in it.”

Cooke likes to dive into characters (the tender, damaged Lou, the cystic fibrosis patient Emma Decody, the terror-stricken Laine Morris, the ever-vengeful Alicent)

“Because of this exploration of truth, but also because she’s really nosy and curious.”

“I want to dive deep into who [these characters] are... I think that is the most wonderful part of [the] job, that we get to live all these lives in one life if we’re lucky.”

Olivia Cooke speaks with a diction nearly impossible to not listen to. Her outwardly energetic parlance and melodic speak might be the recipe for a certain viral video involving a beverage choice.

SHE COMES FROM A THEATER BACKGROUND, AND WHEN ASKED ABOUT A CLAIM SHE MADE A COUPLE OF YEARS BACK IN WHICH SHE POSITED SHE MIGHT BE MORE CUT OUT FOR TV THAN THEATER BECAUSE OF THE REQUISITE “BIG FACIAL MOVEMENTS OR BIG ARM GESTURES.”

“It’s so awful, isn’t it? Just like...What a cocky little twat! No, I’d love to do theater [again].”

“That girl does not know what she’s talking about. Bless her,” she says, still giggling.

“Sometimes the things I’ve said get repeated back to me and I’m like, ‘God knows...’ because usually I am just making stuff up in the moment.”

IS THERE ANYTHING MORE TO LIFE, THOUGH, THAN THE MOMENT?

She finds herself hoping that, in her golden years (if she’s not senile), she reflects on this present moment aglow with new work and long friendships and internet memeage—with fondness.

“I would like to remember, despite all the constant worrying, that I had a lot of fun.”

“I allowed myself to have a lot of fun. You can indulge, you’re not going to be smited. You can enjoy this time. It’s not going to go away just because you had a nice time.”

Though being smote is perhaps the most terrifying thing any actor or civilian might experience by most standards.

There are other, more tangible things that scare Cooke: Laziness. Inactivity. The vast blankness of dormancy.

“When there’s a bit of a fallow period, that’s when I scare myself with my own thoughts.”

“My mum always says: An idle mind is a devil’s playground. I completely relate to that.”

“When I’m not generating, when I don’t feel like I’m working towards something, that can be quite a scary place for me.”

ABOUT HORROR FILMS AND SOME FILMS FROM HER LETTERBOXD.

The horror is not in the hiding, but in the not knowing.

It shows in her work. It shows in her Letterboxd.

“My Letterboxd does veer on the side of the MORE INTENSE.”

“BORDER by Ali Abbasi is one of my favorite films.”

“I love ROSE GLASS.”

“I think SAINT MAUD was incredible.”

“These are really uncomfortable films to watch but incredibly artful ones.”

“The Luca Guadagnino SUSPIRIA as well...”

“[I like] the ones that leave you with such a distinct off kilter feeling after you’ve left the cinema.”

We’re talking, again, about traversing that seam between the worlds of fantasy and reality—that ever-opaque, grotesque sublime that was so easily accessible so many years ago, that ever-thickening border between adulthood and the imagination.

“It’s a bit of a thrill, isn’t it? It’s like being on a roller coaster. That’s the anticipation. That’s the unique selling point. You want that ride.”

[onthenightisland]

with great excitement, i can finally present my most self indulgent endeavor ever:

IWTV CHARACTERS AS PATHFINDER 2E* CHARACTERS

(*dungeons and dragons' superior sister system)

DISCLAIMER: this is a fun silly activity and not a super serious character analysis or poignant deep dive. i have tried my best to grasp the essence of these characters through the art of ttrpg character sheets. if you have thoughts or feelings about my decisions please feel free to send me asks and discuss in the replies, i'd love to hear different opinions!

Lestat de Lioncourt Ancestry: Ancient Elf (Polymath Bard Dedication) Background: Musical Prodigy Class: Sorcerer (Diabolic)

i was struck with a horrifying and evil vision of the most manic pixie dream twink mary sue build and thought. oh my god. that's lestat. and that's how i got the idea to make this post. i picked sorcerer because there is no more "i have every powerful ancient vampires blood running through me" Specialest Girl In The World class than sorcerer. i tacked on diabolic as an homage to lestats constant struggle with his nature being that of the devil through the series. ancient elf was both because of his deep ties to the ancients but also because of the free dedication. that girl needed a bard feat !!! yes she's the chosen one and more special and beautiful than everyone else but she's also a Performer. i specifically choose polymath bard because lestat has never been able to stay fixated on a muse for more than 15 minuets. multi talented diva with attention deficit disorder ! musical prodigy also lends some trained skills for the bard part of the build and ties it all off with a nice bow.

Louis de Pointe du Lac Ancestry: Human (Aiuvarin) Background: Bookkeeper Class: Oracle (Ancestors)

louis was TOUGH. sadly pf2e has no options for irresistibly sexy gay entrepreneurs so i had to make some concessions. i was originally between animist and barbarian for louis but the farther i got into the build the more they both felt really reductive and like they didn't showcase ALL of who louis is. he's not a carnival medium or roid head, he's a regular guy haunted by the people he's loved dead and alive !!! so i decided that ancestors oracle played into both his Dreamstat tendencies and the significance that the expectations and memories of his family have for him. i really wanted to keep louis human because i felt like his humanity is sooo important to his character, but i added the Aiuvarin (elven) heritage as a nod to the influence that Lestats influence and his turning has had on his humanity. bookkeeper is as close as i could get to successful sexy gay businessman and i'm sticking by it. (fun cruel add on, i gave him the 1st level Ancestry Feat Forlorn. the griever with a masters degree in loss.)

Claudia Ancestry: Dwarf (Aiuvarin) Background: Nomad Class: Rogue (Mastermind)

the sneaker !!! claudia was such a treat to build, i had such a clear picture for her. i chose dwarf because regardless of her size or perceived frailty, she's so incredibly strong. and stubbornly loyal to a fault! the Aiuvarin heritage is in the same vein as louis but with more lesdaughter implications. Mastermind Rogue was such a given, that girl is always 4 thousand steps ahead of everyone at any given moment. she doesn't need any fancy sneak attacks from the shadows or suprise attack brawls, shes just fuckin smart. she was eating up hundred year old vampires at 20 something like it was NOTHING. nomad was a coy nod to her run away escapades and her and madeleines plans to "wander".

Armand Ancestry: Elf (Nephilim) Background: Barrister Class: Bard (Maestro)

oooohhh my baby. this was such a challenge. i ummed and ahhed for ages but then i was shot in the chest with the sudden realization of; oh my god. theatre kid. bard. this guy was a director for over 200 years and has an actual passion for the stage and most other kinds of art OF COURSE he's a bard. maestro bard specifically because of his master complex and the weird perfectionism shame that that's caused. i chose nephilim elf mostly as a nod to armands specific type of beauty often being referred to as biblical or Botticellian but also because it gives the character "golden eyes." and i thought woah that's so armand. admittedly i struggled real bad with picking a background so i settled on Barrister as a little tongue in cheek joke about the orchestration of claudias trial, but i also tossed around Cultist and Artist. multitalented diva <3

Daniel Molloy Ancestry: Gutsy Halfling Background: Printer Class: Investigator (Interrogation)

this felt like a victory lap ngl. investigator, DUH. Interrogation because of the interviewing. of the vampire. i picked halfling because of their curious and inquisitive nature but also because they're notoriously lucky and i believe that pure luck is truly the only reason that daniel lived as long as he did. gutsy was both because he's mouthy and isn't afraid to bitch slap an undead gay serial killer but also because of his innate boner fear response. if that ain't gutsy idk what is !!! printer was a given for a Pulitzer prize winning published journalist.

[inkys-anime-blog]

One Piece Surfer AU

This was a long ramble session put together by myself and my friends Jordon, @fashionable-hamster , @incomingalbatross , and @thehappybaker .

If anyone wants to draw these or muse around in this AU, please feel free (and tag me!) We had so much fun coming up with these!

Things that are the Same

Devil Fruits are still a thing (mostly because it's really funny if they're surfers and can barely swim. They all wear inner tubes and water wings.)

Crew Compositions are also the same! They are now teams.

Sea Kings and assorted monsters are still here. They are, in fact, more common. The job of Life Guard is not only to keep people from drowning, but to fight monsters so your friends can surf in peace.

World Changes

Almost every dead character you can think of is alive. Because this is a fun, low stakes AU.

"King of the Pirates" is now "King of the Waves", you become a Yonko by being an Olympic Gold Medalist, you become "King of the Waves" by beating all of the Yonkos in a competition.

The goal of "World's Greatest Swordsman" has been changed to "World's Greatest Lifeguard." The way you move up in ranks for it is by competing in underwater feats of power (holding your breath, underwater wrestling, spotting and saving drowning people, performing rescue maneuvers.) It is all incredibly competitive and intense.

Doctors tend to pool supplies and set up a single medical tent, but more intense competitions mean they'll stay apart.

The Celestial Dragons have bought up most of the local public beaches. Surfing on them is considered illegal, but that doesn't stop any of the crews/teams.

The Marines are now local police who are trying to keep the surfers from the private beaches. Sometimes it escalates to fighting, but not too often. It's more like a race to surf before the police show up, it adds time and tension to competitions.

The Revolutionaries are a skateboarding gang who are committing actual crimes trying to bankrupt the city. They are treated with less attention than the surfers, somehow.

Strawhat Headcanons

The Thousand Sunny is a massive surfboard that all the team can fit on. They don't use it super often, but Franky made it for fun one day and they have a good time zipping around together.

Luffy is almost unchanged. He wants to be King of the Waves, he goes around recruiting buds to help that happen. He is more than willing to solve these problems by beating people up. It's Luffy.

Zoro is training to be the World's Greatest Lifeguard. He mostly focuses on paddling around and killing monsters that try to attack his friends, he's group protector in any AU. His backstory is similar as well, Kuina dying and leaving him her family life preserver. He and Sanji sit on the edge of the group surfboard, they're both very worried about their friends falling in.

Nami and Nojiko were illegally taken in by Bellemere. Nami has a supernatural sixth sense for when storms and strong waves are coming in, which was noticed by Arlong. Arlong threatened to reveal the illegal adoption to the police if she didn't come work for him and his team. Nami agreed, but once Luffy finds out, he contacts Whitebeard and get into a fierce legal battle to keep Nami and her family safe and away from Arlong. She's now living out the childhood she always wanted, spending time with friends and surfing instead of being under Arlong's control. Bellemere is running her tangerine orchard and shows up to their competitions a lot, mostly to cheer on her kid and hand out orange slices like a soccer mom.

Ussop runs a kid's swimming school! He's really popular because he's great with kids. People want to get their kids in love with swimming so they're less likely to impulsively eat devil fruits lolol. He's always wanted to be a surfer, and he jumps at the chance when Luffy comes their way. Kaya buys them fancy new surfboards and she's one of their most dedicated sponsors.

Sanji used to work in a five star restaurant, but ended up shifting to make his own top-class food truck so he can be with the crew and go to different competitions. Zeff sponsors the Strawhats so that Nami stops stealing the rival team's wallets to pay for gas money. (She still does, but less often now.)

Chopper is still a reindeer boy, and he wasn't able to go to normal school because of it. He was homeschooled by his parents, who are both doctors. He's enjoying his first taste of a real childhood with the Strawhats, and Hiriluk and Kureha come to what competitions they can.

Robin is a former CIA agent turned lawyer. She has gotten the Strawhats and teams they're friendly with out of SO many legal issues. She wears water wings on All of her Arms when she goes out to surf. She still does archeology on the side as a fun hobby.

Brook's backstory is mostly unchanged. He used to be on a great group of surfers, but when they were on a boat trip, their drinks were poisoned by a rival team. He washed up a skeleton by the Strawhat's van. He had made friends with Laboon, but since Laboon has faced some issues in the wild, he was moved by a wildlife conservation center. Brook is traveling the coast with the Strawhats to try to find him again, checking with every wildlife center they pass.

Jinbe is tired. He was a city council member, and left when it became horribly corrupt. He's reliving his old days of surfing with the Strawhats, and he's specifically helping Zoro be a better swimmer.

Non Strawhat Headcanons

Shanks and his crew run a nice little bar. They're renowned for their surfing skills, but they're holding back from competitions for awhile so the kids get their chance to shine. Shanks is known as "that guy who once surfed a tsunami so well he reversed it. Somehow."

Whitebeard is a CPS worker. He has worked at this tirelessly for decades, and ends up fighting a fierce legal battle for Nami, and then later Ace, both of which he wins!

Ace (which was actually how this entire thing started for me) is super competitive and travels around almost as much as the Strawhats do. He wears his hat surfing because of course he does. He's got to be very careful using his Devil Fruit, but he's pulled off some crazy stunts with it.

Buggy the Clown runs a water show with super talented performers; water aerialists, dolphins, even some surfing like the others! He is a terrible surfer but manages to fail upwards into winning an Olympic medal. Whoops!

Vivi is a mayor's daughter and is constantly campaigning for better protection for the local beaches. She's managed to get her hometown safe for the teams to compete at, but she doesn't have a lot of sway outside them, and she had to fight against a certain local business to get that far. She's studying abroad in Europe after she helped, and they miss her a lot :(

Crocodile (mentioned above with Vivi) owns a casino near the beach. Luffy hit him with a supersoaker of ocean water once for putting a hit out on Vivi. I have nothing else for him except "he makes crazy sandcastles"

Mihawk is the World's Greatest Lifeguard, and most of the time people practice perfect water safety around him because he's SCARY to be rescued by. Those eyes....

Most of the first mates (Zoro, Bepo, Killer) are training to be lifeguards. Their captains have devil fruits, they have to.

Corozon is the Heart Pirate's biggest supporter. He loves watching them compete. He's working with Bellemere in her orchard, they know each other from their old police days.

Blackbeard's favorite activity is snitching on other surfers so they get interrupted by the police. He also likes knocking people off their boards. He's never invited to these things, he just shows up.

Uta showed up once to cheer on Luffy, but Blackbeard dropped her location online. The beach got swarmed by fans and they had to cancel :( But she still comments on Nami's social media posts about the competitions and voices her support!

Gecko Moria owns a terrible "haunted water ride" experience and it's terrible and rundown. Kuma, who works for OSCHA, shows up to shut it down but the crew has already beaten up everyone there because someone was being a creep to Nami.

That's all for now! Might add more later as they come up!

Please please reblog <3 I want to hear people's ideas!

[midmorninggrey]

An Embellishment of Lore (Tag Game)

I think as Fanfic writers, we often add lore to our stories. It is natural for us to build upon the pillars set for us. But what about the foundations, gravel and grit? What was a piece of Lore you added to Dragon Age that wasn't pre-existing?

Big thank you to @samseabxrn for the tag! I’m a little late because after taking a break from the DA scene, I worry that my canon lore knowledge is rusty? If any of these ideas are wildly out-of-sorts, please feel free to point me in the right direction.

“May you die with the sun on your face” is a saying that serves as a blessing or a curse among Grey Wardens. It may have originated within Dalish Wardens as a prayer for Mythal’s light and protection, but humans have muddied the translation over the centuries. 

House Trevelyan Operates Lyrium Mines - The Trevelyans already have a canon connection to the Chantry, but I wanted to add a darker layer of economic interest to their influence.

Force Mage Musings - One of my OCs is a strong Force Mage, and the fun part of creating a potentially overpowered character is poking holes in their abilities. Even successful force magic has a high risk of "rebounding" on the mage who casts it, most commonly breaking bones in their extremities.

Tagging forward to @blarrghe @dungeons-and-dragon-age @inquisimer if this hasn't already come your way! Or anyone who wants to write about their lore, I'd love to hear about it.

[starlightvld]

20 Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ꜰɪᴄ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀꜱ

Tagged by the lovely @snarky-magpie - thank you!!

1. How many works do you have on A03? 13 (for now...☺️)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 429,228

3. What fandoms do you write for? Voltron: Legendary Defender and Call of Duty: MW Reboot

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? - Couch Surfing (COD, soapghost) - Broken Bones & Shattered Hearts (COD, soapghost) - Up in Smoke (COD, soapghost) - Formalities (Voltron, sheith) - Research and Development (Voltron, sheith)

5. Do you respond to comments? YES. I love talking to people in the comments. 😍

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably Couch Surfing because it's an "in progress" ending. But it's still mostly happy because I can't really write anything else. LOL

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably Formalities? But all of them are pretty tooth-rotting...

8. Do you get hate on fics? No

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes, but it's always slow burn smut with feelings (hi, I'm ace).

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I love thinking about crossovers, but I haven't written any yet (unless you count the AU from question 13, I guess).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? The soapghost Punisher AU I'm working on with @kibagib - You're my mask, you're my cover, my shelter - is basically co-written. Kiba gives me the outline for what they want to happen in the scene, and I write it out, adding my own flare here and there. It's been so much fun to work together to bring Kiba's visions to life!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? As much as I love soapghost, I think sheith will always have my heart.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? So far, I've finished or am actively working on all my WIPs... 😯 I do have an idea for a soapghost inter-dimensional-travel, angst-with-a-bittersweet ending fic, but that one hasn't gotten past outline phase. That's the closest I have to a fic I might never finish. (This fic would also win "angstiest ending," btw.)

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I write dialogue and emotions/introspection pretty well.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I struggle with descriptions - they are often what I "add in" during the editing phases. I'm also a VERY SLOW writer, which is why it takes so long to update sometimes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I don't do it unless I have a native speaker willing to help me with the translation. Otherwise, it's just English but in italics. LOL

19. First fandom you wrote for? Dragon Age (long ago with a different user name)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? I love them all, but my first sheith fic - In Sunshine and in Shadow - will always be special to me because it helped me process that atrocious VLD ending.

Tagging... errmmmm... @oodelally9 @kayluvlygrey @hawkeykirsah @ticktockclockwork @ursae-minoris-world @insomnikat-mused @chalkofthevalley

No pressure! Ignore or play as you like!

[moss-loves-dinosaurs]

Hi I'm Moss! I'm currently 16 and a junior at Tripolis High! I'm turning 17 on the 30th of September :)

My pronouns are They/He, please respect them!

I'll add to this post if needed!

Roomates with @notsansunderrune!

I'm an exchange student from New Zealand!

OOC:

Hi! I'm @nonbinary-dinosaur7! I also run @the-rubber-band, @gothams-crow, @kalas-likes-crows and @luke-the-loogie!

This is an account for an AU on discord a friend made!

Feel free to send asks! No weird stuff tho, muse is a minor!!

This is a DC OC/self insert! They have a superhero account - @dino-superhero

About the muse:

Moss loves dinosaurs and animals! Their superpower is turning into prehistoric creatures! They also enjoy drawing, writing and Dungeons and Dragons. He plays the saxophone! They have low self-esteem and social anxiety.

Timetable: English 11 Algebra 2 Biology American history Study Hall Spanish Creative Writing

Other blogs for this AU: (let me know if I'm missing any!)

@luke-the-loogie

@dukealicious

@barthallan

@roboticguy

@jaimereyesbug

@dameswayne

@jonno-kent

@billybatsonz

@half-a-goat

@mikael1256

@totally-tim-drake

@corus-lim-w

@midrew

@maya-nobody-ducard

@j-nakamura

@j0k3r-jun10r

@kon-el-konner-luther-kent

@maryjayden

@cassandra-e-sandsmark

@cazirole

@kryptonite-with-consciousness

@celeste-dennel

@charlieorwhatever

@notsansunderrune

[luke-the-loogie]

Intro!

Hey! I'm Luke O'Brian! I'm currently 16 and a junior at Tripolis High!

Do NOT call me Ernie I swear-

I use He/Him pronouns and my birthday is April 24th!

Need someone pranked? Ask me!

I'll add to this post if needed!

Sharing a dorm with @j-nakamura

OOC:

Hi! I'm @nonbinary-dinosaur7! I also run @the-rubber-band, @gothams-crow and @moss-loves-dinosaurs among others!!

This is an account for an AU on discord a friend made!

Feel free to send asks! No weird stuff tho, muse is a minor!!

There's a bit of headcanon in here because there's not much Luke content lol.

About the muse:

Luke likes pranking people and playing basketball. He's a bit of a class clown and he slacks off in class a bit. He likes dinosaurs and Dungeons and Dragons!

Timetable: English 11 Algebra 2 Chemistry American history P.E. (M. W. F) study hall (T. T.) (depends on the day) Human anatomy & physiology Weight lifting (T. T.) Study hall (M. W. F.) (depends on the day)

Other blogs for this AU: (let me know if I'm missing any!)

@dukealicious

@barthallan

@roboticguy

@jaimereyesbug

@dameswayne

@jonno-kent

@billybatsonz

@half-a-goat

@mikael1256

@totally-tim-drake

@corus-lim-w

@midrew

@maya-nobody-ducard

@j-nakamura

@j0k3r-jun10r

@kon-el-konner-luther-kent

@maryjayden

@cassandra-e-sandsmark

@cazirole

@moss-loves-dinosaurs

@kryptonite-with-consciousness

@celeste-dennel

@charlieorwhatever

@notsansunderrune

@bestboybeast

@lizzieprinceclassofxx

[strywoven]

hey , chat. got some ( not ) silly news from the university that really made me question my choice to complete my degree at all ; it's fine , i'm sure we'll fix it ( questionable ) . so you know what ? here's some character ideas i've been rotating around for months but probably won't follow through on :

still gonna shove this creature in your face , please god give me the strength to add it --

an oc that is shamelessly a romance/whump character ; reincarnation au , but your muse is their old lover finding them over and over and over -- "half my heart to make you whole" , bc they gave your muse half their heart to keep finding them in every lifetime , bound for eternity ; dragon. period. send tweet.

stay with me : a demon contracted as an assassin ( or some other similar post ) for heaven

envy ( fma:b ) , but less in the modern religious context that "envy is jealousy" and more in the moral theology tradition that it's instead the delight in others' misfortune and an emphasis on self-entitlement to personal gain while others lose ( see: a form of schadenfreude ) . there's a lot of ethical themes here - particularly harkening to the character's overarching immorality & increasing displeasure with everyone elses' gains - but ... just , in essence , the idea of envy wanting understanding above all else yet being this creature that is simply beyond any reasonable connection and companionship really mashes my potatoes , really rustles my jimmies --