#au; dragon hearted (fourth wing)

[ircnwrought]

@ironwoven (liam) gets a semi-plotted elide !!

__________☾     A HAND ALONG THE STONE WALL STEADIES HER AS SHE MAKES HER WAY BACK TO THE DORMS. though her limp is more pronounced now at the end of the day, her wince comes when her teeth accidentally brush against her newly split lip. imogen && some of the others have given her the tools to win her challenges. despite the threshing injury that never healed right ( with no mender in sight for a child of the rebellion ), she finds her size && speed work in her advantage most days. today is not one of them. ❛   it looks worse than it is. it'll heal in no time && definitely before the next time i'm called to the mat.   ❜ a small smile at that. she is a fighter through && through despite the quiet demeanor.

[b3anieperson]

THE LETTER - An Epilouge To Fourth Wing - Part 1 - Part 2 -

Xaden's letter is marked with the same seal I've seen the last three years, a blue wax seal with a rising dragon. I snap open the seal, the wax breaking quietly.

Dear Sloane,

I'm so, so sorry.

My gaze shifts at the letter, sorry for what? As I pay attention to the paper, trying not to read ahead, the corner of one letter is torn, and slight dark spots appear on the paper, like tear stains.

Liam stands with Malek now.

My heart shatters, as I read.

We were attacked by Gryphons, while we were going to save a nearby village. Deigh died, and we didn't have long to say goodbye to Liam before we had to fight.

I am so sorry, I tried, he died in mine and Violet's arms- and so did Soleil.

I'm used to reading through the lines at this point, its how most words to me look. 'Gryphons" always the same, and yet, never Gryphons, Venin.

I barely remember Soleil, her mother was a lieutenant under my mother, and I maybe met her once- but Liam? He was my brother. I'm alone now, no family, no mom, no dad, no Liam. I continue reading, letting the tears spill onto the page as I try not to cry out in pain.

I wish I could be there, I'm leaving in a few days, as soon as we get back to Basgiath, we're currently waiting for Violet to wake up, we're in-

The next word is scribbled out, but I know what he means, they're in Aretia. Letting the one who lived- Violet Sorrengail- heal, while Liam is in a burn pit with his dragon and Soleil.

I don't bother reading the rest, I throw the letter across my bed and reach for Garrick's. This one is sealed with brown wax- I rip it open, and worry my lip as more tears fall.

Sloane,

I wish I could bring you good news.

Please don't be stupid- do something stupid more importantly.

I'll give you what the report says, but I'm sure you've already read Xaden's letter, or Eya's.

Included in his letter is his own personal report, since there were no scribes to write it down.

Name: Garrick Tavis

Rank: Third Year Flame Section Leader, Fourth Wing

Location: Athbyne

Beyond Wards Y/N: Yes.

Commanding Officer: Xaden Riorson

Riders Available: Masen Sandborne, Eya Wrenwrought, Garrick Tavis, Liam Mairi, Soleil Telery, Violet Sorrengail, Ciaran Jun, Bodhi Durran, Imogen Cardulo

Incident Report: June 24, 633 AU

War Games 633 of Basgiath War College, Gaurd and Riot of Wing Leader Xaden Riorson was set down at a lake 20 minutes out from Athbyne.

10 minutes in on break a scream was heard from the west side of the lake, in the woods.

A drift of Six Gryphons attacked and killed Deighabron-- a Red Daggertail belonging to Liam Mairi, saving Violet Sorrengail from impailment.

Soleil and Fuilinstrogh were killed in action by suprise attack.

In action Violet Sorrengail and Xaden Riorson took out two Gryphons as well as rider. Violet was then impailed by poisoned dagger (awaiting condition updates), and incapacitated.

Eya Wrenwrought, Imogen Cardulo and Bodhi Durran fought the remaining Gryphons.

-INCIDENT END-

Injuries sustained:

Bodhi Durran: Broken Arm

Garrick Tavis: Six Inch Cut from Temple to Jaw

Eya Wrenwrought: Twisted Ankle

Violet Sorrengail: Stab Wound (poison)

Imogen Cardulo: Several Fleshed and Treated Knife wounds, (unpoisoned)

Liam Mairi: Deceased

Soleil Telery: Deceased

I don't bother to read the rest of the report. I throw it aside and ravage through Imogen and Eya's letters. All I can focus on is that he died for Violet, saved her, and she still got stabbed and might even die. He died for fucking nothing.

My heart pounds in my chest as I rip at a rouge peice of paper. Tears fall down my cheeks, and make my face sticky with grief.

When Helena walks in, towel wrapped around her head, I'm hugging myself, looking at my sheets instead of the letters. Her face drops as she sits next to me, an arm wrapped lightly around my shoulder as she consoles quietly.

When I think I've cried out every tear that ever existed in my body. Helena asks me quietly what's wrong.

"H-he's gone." I whimper out, my voice breaking.

"Fuck," I hear from another voice, I glance up. Fynn stands there, against my bedpost, and his hair is slicked back with sweat.

"Liam?" Helena asks quietly and Fynn and I nod simultaneously. A gasp escapes her mouth, and she tries not to shudder.

When Emek sticks his head in through door, Fynn shakes his head and waves him out.

"I'm sorry Sloane." Fynn whispers, but I begin to shut everything out. I haven't done this since- since I watched my mother be incinerated- six years ago.

My heart sits in the bottom of my stomach, and I find myself shrugging away from Helena's touch.

When others walk in, they sit adjacent to the bed, or like Fynn; against the bedpost. They ask hushed questions, "What happened?", "Why is Sloane-", "Is she going-". I shut my eyes closed, and just scream.

The room quiets. Nobody speaks. No one moves, then quietly, a hand clasps my shoulder. "Out." He whispers.

I don't bother looking up at Emek, I know it's him. Everyone leaves, and I slowly collapse in on myself, crying again. He shushes quietly, sitting down on the bed, running his fingers through my hair.

His hand passes in front of my vision, and he picks up a letter. He let's out a breath, and sets it down, no doubt reading what Eya had wrote.

Dear Sloane,

We lost Liam two days ago.

We were in a battle at Resson.

I'm not going to sugarcoat this, you know that's not my thing, and I guarantee you've read Xaden's letter.

You know what took him out. We tried, I couldn't get there in time. I will see you at Parapet. I'll be on the other side, you know I will be.

Just remember: You are strong, and you will get through this, you have gotten through worse, and you are amazing.

I love you kid.

-Eya Wrenwrought, Second Wing, Claw Section, Second Squad.

Emek takes my hand, "I know." I shake my head, a few tears falling.

"Y-you don't." I whisper, even though I know his older sister fell at Gauntlet two years ago. "Emma fell at Gauntlet. Liam was eviscerated with his fucking dragon. Emma died before her threshing. Liam did not."

Emek sighs. "Mom died by Venin, if you remember." He says, not trying to guilt-trip me, but informing. Pain flares in the back of my mind, a headache swirling. I fall back on Emek, and he catches me.

"I- I'm sorry." I let out.

"Don't be, we all know the sacrifices that are made."

And I know, from all experiences, it never gets better.

"I'm sorry Sloane."

[justpentdraws]

"a helping hand"

the first bit of writing i did for third wing au - a life series au set in the world of fourth wing. it tells a story of how tango makes his way over the parapet and, also, how tango and skizz met. because of its lenght (as you can see below, not a great one), it won't be going on ao3 like. ever. unless i actually make it a chapter. anyway enjoy.

note: this is also the piece of writing that has skizz's double blue eyes, a funny error i made and decided to not edit out for the sake of a joke hehe

word count: 1594

"Next... Tango Tek!"

Tango swallowed and slowly stepped onto the stone bricks of the parapet. His courier bag suddenly stopped seeming like a good idea, but he trained for this. It couldn't be that bad, could it? Just don't look down, he told himself, and you'll be alright.

A blow of wind hit the bridge and his step became wobbly for a second. Just keep going. Don't look down.

"MOVE, TEK!" One of the older trainees called out mockingly. Tango ignored him.

Desperately trying to keep his mind away from the enormous drop - just waiting to swallow him whole and make him just another name written in stone, another plain grave at the bottom - he started looking at the walls of the fortress raising up before him in the distance. Were the splashes of colour on the dark stone banners? No, that was stupid, the dragon riders did not have banners, and even if they had, they wouldn't be colourful, they'd be black, of course they'd be black, it was basic knowledge.

Tango felt a burning pain in his left shoulder where the strap from his bag dug in. Should he change arms? He stopped himself from glancing down beneath his feet. Was the bridge wide enough to allow it? He didn't even notice when his legs had begun shaking from the fatigue. Keep going. Don't look down.

After a few more steps he couldn't bear the weight laid on his left hand side anymore. He stopped and almost slipped, which cost him an adrenaline rush and certainly a few years of his life. Having caught his ballance again, he slowly slipped the strap from his shoulder and took two deep breaths of relief.

It would be so easy to toss it down the bridge.

It would be even easier to just let himself fall, but unfortunately, Tango wanted to live.

He made a small, determined sound and pulled the strap of the bag over his right shoulder. "Keep going.", he whispered. "Don't look down."

Something fell on his nose. A raindrop. Tango's heart raced for a split second. Even a small rain could be deadly on the parapet. He froze and started praying to every god he knew for a helping hand.

When after a minute there were no other drops coming, he relaxed for a bit. He opened his eyes - when had he closed them? - and gazed out into the open space, the fortress and the spots of colour...

Suddenly, one of the spots shifted and Tango felt like if his stomach fell from the bridge out to the valley below.

Those were not symbols, nor roofs, and definetly not banners, he realized with a chill running down his spine. Those were dragons.

He let out a sound between a cry and a scream of terror, making a few wobbly steps back. His voice carried out with an echo, quickly silenced by the creeping mists. When did they appear this high up?

Tango felt himself slip out of balance, the wind crying in his ears was slowly silenced by the beating of his own heart, the rush of blood. He miraculously caught balance again. Don't look...

Down.

A strong sense of vertigo closed its cold claws around his gut. Tango scrunched the fabric of his vest with both hands, bending his knees. He felt dizzy. Barely hearable through his racing heartbeat were footsteps behind him.

Everything was so loud. The mist was pressing on to him from all dirrections. The footsteps were getting closer. His own heartbeat sounded deafening to him. He started breathing faster, his lungs burned as if the air there was too thin to sustain him for long enough. He couldn't move. It could not be that high up. He couldn't see for all the mist. He couldn't hear, he couldn't...

He felt a pair of heavy hands on his shoulders, stabilizing him on the parapet. He yelped. From a jumble of thoughts in Tango's mind, one floated up over the chaos as he gasped for more air. They are going to kill me.

How come he didn't make it to the end before someone caught up? How could he be that stupid? He knew he shouldn't stop. He should keep going and don't look down. Keep going. Don't look down. He was going to die.

"Hey, buddy?" A voice a lot warmer than a battle cry he expected suddenly broke through his racing heartbeat and howling wind. "Do you need a hand?"

Tango gasped something incoherent in response, trying to look over his shoulder and wobbled, but the hands kept him in place.

"Woah there, easy..." The other cadet seemed... worried. Why was he worried? Why should he worry about anything else than just tossing Tango off the bridge like a worthless sack of dead weight he was? "I'm gonna need you to breathe for me, okay? Slowly."

The dark spots that started appearing within his field of vision did not leave him any choice but to frantically nod his head.

"No, I don't think you heard me. Slooooooowly." The reliable grip on his shoulders strengthened. "Breathe in."

Tango forced himself to hold his breath for a second. The world suddenly felt... Quieter.

"Very good!" He could hear the other man smile. "Now, breathe out. Slowly."

The air felt warm exiting his lungs, through his throat and nose. Everything started becoming more bearable. Even the blood rushing in his ears seemed to slow down with his breathing.

"Breathe in?" The voice commanded again. Tango obediently inhaled another sip of cold air, this time managing to avoid frantic gasping for it. Did the mists go away? "Breathe out. Okay?" A slight shift in the weight put on his shoulders brought him back to reality. "We need to move now, buddy. Can I take your bag?"

"No... No." Tango managed to spit out the first words since the world started spinning. There were important things in that bag. "I have to... I have to carry it. Myself."

"You sure?" His savior didn't seem convinced. After Tango did not deny, he sighed. "Okay... So hold my hands then. Can I let go of you?"

"Mhm." Tango nodded, stabilizing himself on his own two feet as he felt the weight slowly taken off his shoulders. It wasn't long until the same pair of hands found his, providing additional balance.

"Now come on." The other cadet squeezed Tango's hands in his in a reassuring gesture.

"You will fall..." He protested weakly. "I will slip and I will fall, and you are going to fall too if you keep helping me like this."

"If you die, I die." The other man replied without hesitation. "But if I get to the end of the damn bridge, you are getting there with me. Now, move. One step at the time. And if you slip, I'm going to catch you."

Of course, he wasn't. Tango knew it. He might've been small, but even if the other cadet was as strong as his hands felt, Tango's weight would knock him out of balance and send them both flying to their early graves at the bottom of the valley. But at that moment, with wind whistling around them and mists finally creeping down, he found himself believing his unexpected savior. So he took a step. And then another. And another.

"Tell me about something you like." The other man did not seem bothered by his shaky movements.

"Clocks." Tango immediately spat out. "Mechanisms. Do you know that pendulum clocks run solely on gravity?"

"The force that will inevitably claim our lives once we get dragons to fall off of? Cool." His companion snickered.

"Well, not quite." Tango realized that it would probably be better to ignore the impression. "You see, they actually have these amazing systems..."

And he ranted away, explaining various types of clocks with his face turned forwards, away from the only pair of ears listening. Or not. Tango did not mind. The only thing that mattered was he hardly even noticed when he let go of his savior's hands, or even when the parapet finally widened when it reached the wall of the fortress.

He was in! Tango made a noise half resembling a burst of surprised laughter and resisted the urge to jump around with excitement - his legs were still shaking and he was still standing a bit too close to the edge for his comfort. Instead, he turned around for the first time since he stepped onto the parapet, and met the blue eyes of his savior.

The other cadet had blue eyes, vast like the sky that just attempted to swallow them both and deep as the underwater caves that seem to not have a bottom, and a kind, honest smile, framed by his dark, curly hair gathered back in a ponytail. He was nearly a foot taller than Tango - which, knowing Tango's height, was not exactly that impressive - and he was wearing what once might've been a leather jacket, but now had its sleeves ripped off, leaving frayed edges of a white shirt sticking through. "We made it!" He spoke triumphantly, spreading his arms in a friendly gesture.

Tango hugged him, feeling the other man nearly lift him up in the air with a giggle. "We made it!" Tango agreed.

When they finally let go of each other, his companion held up a hand. "I don't think we were introduced properly. My name is Skizzle, you can call me Skizz."

"Tango." He shook the offered hand. "Tango Tek, nice to meet you.”

[shipmistress9]

20 question for writers tag game

tagged by @taumoebaa Thank you! 🥰

1. Total number of ao3 works?

105, apparently.

2. Total ao3 word count

1,154,048 That... a lot of worde o.O

3. Fandoms I've written in

Fandoms I've published in are: How to train your dragon Zelda Miraculous Ladybug The Empyrean - Fourth Wing Pokemon Stardew Valley But I also wrote many unfinished fics, for fandoms like Final Fantasy VII & VIII, Crescent City, ACOTAR, Starcrossed (Josephine Angelini), and Divergent.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

Okay, this feels a bit ridiculous... 😆 1. When Three Wrongs Make One right. (1449) (ML) 2. For The Love Of A Princess (709) (HTTYD) 3. Keeping The Facade (701) (ML) 4. Resurrection (615) (HTTYD/MCU) 4. My Kingdom. My Throne. my Queen. (317) (The Empyrean) 5. Part of our 'us' (311) (The Empyrean) I crossed out Resurrection because I didn't write this one, I was just one of the alpha-readers. But this shows so well how little Kudos really say about a fic. The two Miraculous fics there? I love them, but especially Keeping The Facade is just a cute/angsty little smutshot for a (relative) rarepair. That fandom is/was just so huge that the hits/Kudos catapult it up there to the top. In comparisson, FTLOAP is my big epic story, close to 400k words, many years of planning and writing. That just doesn't measure up.

5. Do I respond to comments?

I try to, yes. I just have this thing where I only respond to comments (in longer stories) when I'm about to post the followup-chapter. Which leads to... some comments never getting answers when I fail to keep writing. Or comments on previous chapters getting lost in my inbox. 😶

6. What has the angstiest ending?

Thats's difficult. 🤔 I don't even remember all my fics anymore. 😅 But I think that must be 'Follow Your Heart', at least without the (optional) sequals.

7. What has the happiest ending?

I feel like all my fics (with few exceptions) end on a lovely happy fluffy note. That's just my thing, and trying to pin down which is the happiest doesn't work.

8. Have I received hate?

Oh, yes! Some years ago, there as a dedicated Anon in the HTTYD fandom, who methodically attacked every writer who didn't write their fav couple as 'pure' as they wanted them to be. They would write loooong and elaborate comments about aaaaaaall the things we as writers did wrong and how that clearly reflects how awful people we are in RL. The fandom banded together to drive them away, but... those there some rough months.

9. Do I write smut? And what kind?

YES! I love writing (and reading) smut. 😁 There's always an underlying tone of emotions and devotion and love in my smut, even or especially when I dive into BDMS and D/s dynamics.

10. Do I write crossovers?

Not really. There are fics in my list that are 'tagged' as crossover, but they're really just characters from one fandom slipping into the world of another. Like modern AUs, in a way, or the [Hiccup=the doctor, Eret=Capt. Jack Harkness, Astrid=T.A.R.D.I.S.] thing I once wrote. Or random (disney) characters showing up as background characters in some httyd fics.

11. Have I ever had a fic stolen?

No, thankfully not. Or at least I'm not aware of it. But someone once stole one of my AMVs, and it felt awful.

12. Have I ever had a fic translated?

Someone once asked me for permission to translate one of my fics. But in the middle of it, their government shut down the fanfic platform they were using, so they never finished the tranlsation.

13. Have I ever co-written a fic?

I have! Though never in an equal share. I've helped and received help in the form of alpha reading, which at some points feels like co-writing (but isn't). And I wrote a fic with a friend (though not under my general name 😅) where I would contribute full chapters here and there after we talked about the general plot points. That was so much fun! 🥰

14. What is my all-time fave ship?

I don't think this is a question I can answer. Maybe I can say that Hiccstrid is the ship that had the biggest influence on my life, for various reasons, but naming them my all-time fave would diminish what I feel about other important ships.

15. A WIP I'll never finish

Uh... probably too many to count. But I can say for certain that I'll never finish 'Astrid's Diary'. It was a POV fic, the first HTTYD movie and the TV show from Astrid's POV. But the background story I had in mind died a quiet sad death with the release of more seasons, and I lost interest in either writing my version or adapting it to the new canon.

16. Writing strengths?

Dialogues and emotions, or so I've been told.

17. Writing weaknesses?

Descriptions of places, how something looks. My brain works 100% non-visual and that makes it hard to a) imagine how a place or a person looks and b) to describe it once I made the effort to build the look up in my head. I just go by vibes.

18. Do I like foreign language dialogue?

Not really. As English is already a foreign laguage for me, bringing in others feels weird to me. Except for that one time I had a multi-lingual character who'd always slip into cursing in other languages during sex. That was a lot of fun. 😁

19. First fandom I wrote for?

I... have no idea. Maybe 'Saber Rider and the Star Sherrifs' or maybe 'Detective Conan'. Though in both cases, I didn't even realise something like 'fanfiction' existed, I was just writing for myself. Then I wrote half of a Divergent fic after reading a few others. The first fic I ever published was for HTTYD.

20. Favourite fic I've written?

I can absolutely not answer this question. Sure, I might like some of my fics better than others, but I also 'love' all of them. But generally, I think I like my longer fics the most. The entire 'I Should Go' series, NOOT, WIMTBC, and FTLOAP for HTTYD. WTWMOR for Miraculous. MtO and the Violiaden Series for Fourth Wing.

tagging @taketheshot21 @heathenvampires @athingofvikings @dayeongi @drakaina-amore64 and everyone who else might want to do these. 🥰

[starfall-spirit]

20 questions for writers

Thank you for the tag @tunaababee and @whatishowedyouinthedark!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

63 (and another in my drafts for omegaverse free day)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

237,274

3. What fandoms do you write for?

ACOTAR and Fourth Wing mostly, but I'm looking to get more works posted for ToG and Assistant to the Villain (esp with book 2 in hand). Once upon a time I was a Miraculous LB girl too.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Dragons Know Best (Riorgail)

Your Claim on My Heart (Riorgail)

Our Own Little Show (Violiaden)

So This is What Heaven Feels Like (Feysand)

High Lord, Cold and Cruel(Feysand)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Definitely. A single comment can be enough to turn a shitty day or even week on its head and I want my readers to know how much they mean to me. I also just love discussing my work with people who genuinely care about it.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm not an angst writer and I haven't looked at this one in a couple of years but my miraculous oneshot Agony has MCD. So does The Night the Stars Fell on Velaris, even if it turns out to just be a nightmare in the end.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Last year for Feysand Week I wrote All's Fair in Love & Paint Wars which is pure HEA tooth-rotting fluff and smut.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't thankfully. There have been a few snotty people who claim i should use a beta or whatever, but I have been very lucky to avoid major hate and entitlement to updates. Part of it is probably that I'm not as popular as other writers in the fandom and I keep my Ao3 locked. People don't like to be a bitch when their name is there for all to see.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh yes. Both fluffy and dark.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I don't, unless you count combining characters from the SJM universe. In that case I have a worldwalking next gen fic and a modern au for Feysand x Ruhn.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'm not opposed to the idea.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes!! You guys should check out the ACOTAR Writing Circle. I participated in the 3rd circle. There's another thing I'm working on with a friend, hopefully for Feysand Week, but we'll see.

14. What is your all-time favorite ship?

Feysand, the Rowaelin. After that, probably the rareships Feyre x Eris x Rhys and Violiaden.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oof. Um, I've really been struggling to find motivation for Remember me? (Feysand x Ruhn) I started it when I saw an ask @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship asked, but I'm very much a pantser and didn't do anything more than write one crappy chapter before hitting post.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Banter, I think. It's so much fun to write and since I'm lacking in most other components I let it lead my fics. I've had several people tell me I write great dirty talk, but idk. I just make mean men say 'good girl" repeatedly, so...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Describing anything. My fics are too dialogue heavy and I'm well aware of it, but I've yet to improve my writing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm great when it comes to learning sign, but I've never managed to hold onto spoken languages beyond English. I'm not brave enough to trust google translate.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

My Percy Jackson and Harry Potter was never published, so probably ACOTAR.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Burning in the Starlight/How Can I Loathe and Crave You? as well as Precious Collateral. Also super excited about my submission for this Saturday.

They're more about the vibes than making a fic that's actually worth reading and there's something so refreshing about just writing for yourself and like, three dark romance/poly fic girlies who hype you up. I'm in my happy little dark!rhys bubble and will be staying here a long while, thank you.

Tagging: @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship // @panicatthenightcourt // @writtenonreceipts // @thelovelymadone

[angstbotfic]

Fic Stat Meme

Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

(kinda-sorta tagged by @rowark)

Most hits: The Truth Always Comes Out at 77,002

Summary: In which Emma and Regina pretend to be dating because it gets Henry back into Regina’s life even without his memories and then find they kind of mean it.

(my season 3B rewrite. )

Second most kudos: also The Truth Always Comes Out at 2,520, so i'm going to plug True Love’s Near-Miss, with the most kudos (2,554). it's pretty damn close!

Summary: Henry slips Emma a potion to bring her together with her true love, thinking it’s Neal. It’s not.

Third Most Comment Threads: The Senator 263 threads (627 comments).

Summary: United States Senator Regina Mills meets barista Emma Swan, but DC is no place to be in the closet.

Fourth Most Bookmarks: The Senator again at 327. so our replacement is #3, Working Late (355).

Summary: Based on the prompt: Regina is in her office having a few drinks by herself and sexually frustrated since she hasn't had a good lay since the EF; Emma is patrolling and sees the light on in Regina's office and decides to go investigate.

Fifth Most Words: The Truth Always Comes Out. again. at 29,312. so instead i'll point you to The Ak’tephari Prophecy (97,365 words)

Summary: Mercenary Emma Swan joins the city guard and embarks on a forbidden romance with Princess Regina. Then the wheels of destiny begin to turn and they get caught up in saving themselves, and the world. Sword and sorcery AU.

Least Words: all my many many drabbles.

Swan Queen

Survivor (100 words)

Incredible Heterosexuals (100 words)

Heat (100 words)

Second Chance (100 words)

Anticipation (100 words)

Cider Says (100 words)

Joyride (100 words)

Sacrifice (100 words)

Handsy (100 words)

Dancing Around It (100 words)

The night of our dear Savior's birth (100 words)

Regina Licked . . . (100 words)

Run, Baby, Run (100 words)

Safe and Sound (100 words)

By the Way (100 words)

Feline Friend (100 words)

In Living Color (100 words)

Regina gets a Spanking (100 words)

Heart of Ice (100 words)

Didactic (100 words)

Dressed to Kill (100 words)

She's so dreamy (100 words)

Leg Hair (100 words)

Whimsical (100 words)

Quickie (100 words)

Clingy (100 words)

The Sext Files (100 words)

Tangled Up (100 words)

Reflections (100 words)

A little bit goes a long way (100 words)

Dragon Queen

Hunger (100 words)

Counting Stars (100 words)

Burn (100 words)

Anything Could Happen (100 words)

Sock it to me (100 words)

Warm and safe and loved (100 words)

Dragon Swan

Burned (100 words)

Red Warrior

Ruby's Snack (100 words)

Orange is the New Black

Playing Softball (100 words)

The West Wing

Spanks for the Memories (100 words)

[toberealnow]

@yanny-77 asked about 8. Only Choice

So I have this super long Fourth Wing AU mapped out in which Violet doesn’t speak. Fed up with her chosen mutism and unwillingness to tell her why, her mother threatens to send her into the riders quadrant if she won’t break her vow of silence. Because surely, that will do the trick. We will basically follow Violets journey from the night before the Parapet. Relationship dynamics will be different from FW, but most other things will be the same, like which dragons she bonds. The main love interest for Violet will be Liam.

8. Only choice is about Liam finding out Violet can (and does) communicate with Xaden via their mental bond while she doesn’t talk to him (verbally).

„Liam, I don’t understand why this upsets you so much. I’m with you.“ She looks up at him meaningfully, rubbing a circle with her hand over his wildly beating heart. “You are my first choice.” She tries to soothe him.

A few long seconds go by before he acknowledges her at all. He lays his hand above hers and Violet feels a flood of relief washing over her. His fingers push underneath her flat palm, an attempt to squeeze it, she’s sure.

But to her surprise, he lifts her hand off his chest and drops it. It hangs limply down her side now.

“See, that’s what you don’t get.” He finally meets her eyes with a teary, albeit hard stare.

„I never wanted to be your first choice. First choice“, he says, „implies there is a second choice. But I,“ he draws a shuddering breath, “wanted to be your only choice.”

His voice is uncharacteristically shaky when he finishes. “For once, I wanted someone to be so sure of me that everything else disappeared.”

Not sure if this will ever see the light of the day, tbh. I plan too much, have too little time to write, am crazy slow and obsess over errors. 🫠

WIP Game

I was tagged by @taumoebaa and try to participate even if I hardly know anyone here haha

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I’ve got so many just for Fourth Wing, here we go:

1. Gift Exchange

2. R obsesses over D

3. Fic Challenge Prompt R D

4. Prototype

5. Body is changing

6. Xaden reveals he wants V

7. Beginning

8. Only choice

Tagging @yanny-77 and @justallihere No pressure to participate, of course :)

[possiblyhomer]

One random idea in the middle of the night and about 20 days later, it is done. An Elros ship fairytale au. No complex plot, character arcs or anything, just a simple fairytale about doing good things and getting rewarded for it, completed with plenty of rule of 3's and talking plants and animals. May I present to you,

The traveler and the dragon

Once upon a time, there was a young maiden who travelled across the lands to find a place to call home. Her name was Elpis and she was known far and wide for her beautiful golden hair, eyes that shimmered like the sun's rays on the ocean waves and skin as soft as a flower's petals. Her beauty, however, was infinitely outshone by her kind heart.

One day, her search lead her to a peaceful forest. Though the citizens of the nearby village had warned her of a terrible dragon that lives in the forest, whose presence spell doom for all who is near it, the girl couldn't help but be drawn there by the forest's beauty. Elpis didn't realize she was lost until the clear blue sky turned pink, the young traveler frantically ran through the forest in search of a shelter, but by the time the sun had set, all she found was a cavern. The moment she stepped in the cave though, a loud roar echoed from deep within the cave, then came a dragon, it's scales a deep red and it's horns as dark as a moonless night. The dreaded beast angrily roared at its uninvited guest as she stood at the entrance to its cave and glared at her with glowing eyes.

"Please, o great dragon, I am but a lost traveler trying to find a place to call home, please find it in your heart to let me take shelter!" She pleaded.

The dragon stared down at the young woman before it as if searching for any lies. The maiden stood there patiently under its harsh gaze before the dragon huffed.

"Very well, I will allow you only three nights in my cavern, if you return for a fourth time, I will eat you where you stand." It warned before letting her in.

That night, as the worn out traveler prepared for sleep, she noticed the blood and ashes covering the dragon. Curious, she asked it:

"Great dragon, why do you harm the citizens of the nearby kingdom?"

"Because they have stolen the stars my mother had put on my horns to make them shimmer even in the dark." The dragon replied.

The next morning, as Elpis set out to find a home, but she could not find one. On her way back to the dragon's cave, however, she heard a cry for help and found a baby bird that has fallen off its nest. The kind-hearted traveler gently picked the little creature up and put it back in its home.

"Thank you, kind traveler!" The bird chirped. "Let us repay you, traveler! You can stay with us and call this tree your home! We'll soar across the sky freely and travel to wherever we want!"

The girl only shook her head. "Thank you, little bird, but I cannot stay here, for I cannot take to the skies like you do." She replied.

"Then how can I repay you?" It asked

The traveler thought for a while, then answered:

"Can you tell me how to make stars shimmer once again on the great dragon's horns?"

"For that, you will need to see Clotho the spinner, follow the path I made and you will find her there!" Said the little bird.

Elpis thanked the bird and before her, a different path appeared. She walked down the path and at the end was a little girl holding a spindle. Clotho smiled at her as she filled a cup with light.

"Sprinkle this on the dragon's horns and the stars shall return to him." The child spoke before vanishing with the scenery, leaving Elpis at the entrance to the dragon's cavern.

"Have you not found your home?" The dragon said with irritation.

"I have not, but in my search I have found what has been stolen from you." The maiden said, sprinkling the light onto the dragon's horns, which made it glow softly in the darkness of the cave.

"You do not owe me anything, for I have let you stay on my own accord. Yet, you still showed me kindness even though it was unnecessary, for that, I thank you."

That night, after the dragon and the traveler had exchanged their good-nights, Elpis noticed how the dreaded beast shivered as the wind flew through the cave. Puzzled, she asked it:

"Great dragon, why do you shiver against the wind?"

"Because my wings can no longer keep me warm, for their feathers can no longer regrow." The dragon replied.

As the sun rose the next day, Elpis once again left to find a home, yet she could not find a place to call home. As she tried to find her way back to the cavern, the traveler saw a fish trying to swim up a fall and on top of the fall, its brethren cheering for it. The kind-hearted traveler used a large leaf to catch it, then released the fish amongst its family.

"Thank you, kind traveler!" The fish said. "Let us repay you, traveler! You can stay with us and call these waters your home! We'll swim and splash around in the cool water and never get tired!"

The girl only shook her head. "Thank you, little fish, but I cannot stay here, for I cannot breath underwater." She replied.

"Then how can I repay you?" It asked

The traveler thought for a minute, then answered:

"Can you tell me how to make feathers grow once again on the great dragon's wings?"

"For that, you will need to see Lachesis the allotter, follow the river downstream and you will find her there!" Said the little fish.

Elpis thanked the fish and before her, a boat appeared. She floated down the river and at the end was a woman holding a staff. Lachesis gently caressed her as she filled a globe with silver water.

"Pour this on the dragon's wings and his feathers shall return to him." The woman spoke before vanishing with the scenery, leaving Elpis at the entrance to the dragon's cavern.

"Have you not found your home still?" The dragon questioned.

"I have not, but in my search I have found what you have lost." The maiden said, pouring the water onto the dragon's wings, immediately, feathers as red and vibrant as the sunset sprung forth wherever the water touched.

"Thank you, my friend, you did not have to help me at all, yet you have done so much. The night ahead is cold and your journey ahead a long one, so for tonight, let us share the warmth of my feathered wings."

That night, as they huddled closely under the dragon's wings, Elpis felt a tear drop from the dragon's eyes. Worried, she asked:

"Dear dragon, why do you weep?"

"Because I can no longer return to the home I missed so dearly." The dragon answered softly.

As the next day came, the dragon and the traveler lingered in their farewells and with a heart heavier than any stone, the traveler turned her back and walked away. Soon, the sun had started to set, as she tried to find a place to stay for the night, the maiden found a field of flowers with a single wilting bloom, the kind-hearted traveler gave the flower water from her own bottle and it soon sprung back to life.

"Thank you, kind traveler!" The flower sang. "Let us repay you, traveler! You can stay with us and call this field your home! We'll bask in the sunshine all day and bring happiness simply by looking so pretty!"

The girl only shook her head. "Thank you, little flower, but I will not stay here, for I no longer search for a home." She replied.

"Then how can I repay you?" It asked

Without hesitation, she answered:

"Can you tell me how to help the great dragon find a way back to his home?"

"For that, you will need to see Atropos the cutter, climb over the big grassy hill and you will find her there!" Said the revived flower.

The traveler thanked the flower and went on her way. At the other side of the hill was an old woman holding a scroll. Atropos kissed her forehead and handed her a beautiful golden crown.

"Put this on the dragon's head and his way back home will show itself to him." The woman spoke before vanishing, Elpis looked forward, only to realize that she was now standing before the dragon.

"Have you not found your home? Have you forgotten my warning?" The dragon asked in surprise, yet he seemed more relieved than angry.

"I have found it, but I have also found a way for you to return to yours." The traveler smiled as she put the crown on the dragon's head. Before her, the dragon turned into a handsome prince and the cave where they stayed together gave way to a beautiful kingdom.

"I cannot thank you enough, dear traveler. I am Moros, I was the prince of the dragon kingdom, but I was banished from my home because of my cruelty! But you have shown me so much kindness and helped me realize my mistakes! I love you, dear Elpis, would you be willing to come with me to my home?" The dragon prince said, extending one of his hands to her.

The traveler took his hand and told him:

"I would love nothing more than to join you, my dear prince, for I have realized over the nights we spent together, that my home, and my heart also, lies with you."

The prince held the traveler in his arms as they returned to the kingdom of dragons, where she was gifted her own pair of beautiful golden wings. The dragon prince and his traveler were soon wedded and with eachother by their side, they lived happily ever after.

The end.

A/N: Please know that I, as the author, had every intention of giving human form Moros cool claw hands, but as it didn't really fit with the whole fairytale motif, I had to, very reluctantly, leave that detail out... (╥﹏╥)

[noiamnotcrying]

Chapter 1:

Au where Remus and Nymphadora get to live.

After the war, Nymphadora and Remus help to rebuild Hogwarts and it is extremely sad for them, especially for Remus. Walking around the first place he was more than a monster, first place where he was able to have friends and knowing that every memory he has here is now defiled because the boy he once saw as a brother; caused the boy, who was the first person to see through his "illness", the first person that made him realize he was much, much more than "monster", to die. 

Knowing that every memory he has about this place is now a sad memory, knowing that what he once saw as a family is completely gone, and knowing that the boy, who slept in the hospital wing for days just to be with him, who gave him chocolates in the morning just to make him feel better, who disowned all of his family because they were disgusting; thought he could betray his family, thought Peter was more trustable and he is gone now, just 2 years after they got to chance to be friends again, just 2 years after he got the chance to be a marauder again.

It is even worse when he helps to rebuild the Quidditch pitch. It reminds him of the days when Sirius was the best beater in Hogwarts, when Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup for 3 years because James "Fleamont" Potter was the best seeker Hogwarts has ever seen. It reminds him of the days when he and Peter screamed to the point where they got hoarse to support their house, when Peter bragged about how his "brother" caught the snitch in 12 minutes; when he had to wear sandals for a week because he lost a bet to Sirius about whether he will be able to cripple the Slytherin seeker or not.

It reminds him of May 29th, 1976; when James Potter finally kissed Lily Evans after 5 years of him chewing every marauder ear off, and most importantly it reminds him that James and Lily didn't get to live enough to tell Harry about their days in Hogwarts, it reminds him that Sirius didn't get to chance to be a professional beater, it reminds him that Peter didn't get to chance to open the toy store he always dreamed about because he was a coward because he was not loyal as they thought he was; because Remus had this "illness" that made him unreliable on his best friends eyes.

And for Nymphadora; it hurts her most when she is helping with the Great hall. It reminds her of her first day in Hogwarts, how scared she was while walking towards the sorting hat because, for her, the possibility of being put in Slytherin means being a black and being a black means being the thing she hates the most. For her; being a black means, being Nymphadora, not Tonks. It reminds her of the day she gave Dumbledore a friendship bracelet and how he wore it for the rest of the term. It reminds her of 1986, her second year when her hair was blue for 2 weeks because Charlie Weasley was sad and his favorite color was blue. It reminds her of 1988, her fourth year when Hufflepuff won the house cup. It reminds her how happy Charlie Weasley was when he was talking about Fred being interested in dragons. And It reminds her that her friendship bracelet was gone now, it reminds her that blue hair can't help Charlie now because his little brother, his favorite brother is gone now. It reminds her how much they had to lose to win.

After the construction is done, they decide to walk around. They just hold hands and walk in silence -they don't need words to understand each other now-. When they are on the 4th floor, a magical door appears: room of requirements decides to show them itself. They walk in, knowing that they can't have what they actually need.

There is a table in the center of the room. There are 3 friendship bracelets and 3 little curios on the table. One bracelet identical to the one Nymphadora gave Dumbledore, one bracelet identical to the one her mother gave her, and one bracelet identical to the one she made for Charlie before he went to Romania… One little rat curio, one dog, and one stag.

There are two shelves near a mirror. One is filled with blue ribbons, little Hufflepuff house cup curios, and a miniature dragon you. Other is filled with toys, chocolate, and snitches.

And they see each other crying through the mirror; realizing that the room didn't have what they actually wanted but what they actually needed.

4 years after the war, when everything is slowly turning back to -a new- normal; a letter comes from McGonagall. She is offering both of them a teaching position in Hogwarts. For Remus, it is DADA; for Nymphadora it is Transfiguration. They accept happily. They redecorate the shrieking shack and move there as a family.

Remus loves teaching Patronus charm the most. After all, it is what made it clear that James and Lily were meant to be and every time he sees the "unexpected" reveal of soulmates; he feels the happiness filling his heart; knowing that they will get to live what Lily and James couldn't.

For Nymphadora; Crinus Muto is her favorite spell to teach because she knows how a change of hair color can help someone. She knows that sometimes seeing your favorite color walking around makes everything better and every time she sees a student use it; she feels the happiness filling her heart, knowing that it will be helpful now, knowing that it will do what she couldn't do for Charlie.

CHECK MY BLOG FOR CHAPTER 2!

[omgkalyppso]

Number 4 for the romance lyric prompt for any variation of the ot4!

4. ‘Cause girls like you run 'round with guys like me 'til sun down.

The lyric is from Girls Like You by Maroon 5 (idk how obvious this is without me saying it), and was added to the playlist specifically for Claude x Hilda though a lot of the lyrics have to be taken at face value because it could be interpret extremely negatively, though not that line, and not my intent. I'll try writing a few words of the stage-production au.

I didn't read over this when I finished.

Here's the first post of the stage-production au: [HERE]

Most of the cast were gone for the day, though the actors who had agreed to go out afterwards had lounged in the audience. Dimitri and Edelgard stood on opposite step ladders, as crewmen held them in place, going over the lines of their final battle with a choreographer and the director.

Dimitri would be atop a large dragon puppet someday, and Edelgard would be in her Hegemon construction, but for now, they were in t-shirts and jeans and trying their best to imagine what the final product might look like.

Hubert and Dedue stood by their sides, and had stopped crouching after the fourth recitation of their lines. By now had been brought chairs to sit upon, from which they each spoke their one line, to be shouted in production, as they supported the song shared by The Rightful King and The Flame Emperor in their epic moment.

From the orchestral pit, the production's vocal coach, Yuri, played an upright piano to guide their tune and tempo.

Hilda sat between Claude and Ferdinand in the audience. Each man whispering along with the song with a bounce of his head while she sunk into her seat, amused, and embarrassed by the prospect of joining them.

It was the most genial cast Hilda had ever worked with, and when Ferdinand, Edelgard, Manuela, Seteth and Lorenz had spoken of not drinking for seven weeks before a show, the bulk of the cast had agreed to go sober for the duration; though when they'd spoken of different dietary restrictions in the week leading up to production, there'd been very little consensus. Regardless, tonight would be the last hurrah for those who drank, as Hilda didn't anyway, and they were waiting to take their friends out for the night.

It was still relatively early as far as nights went, barely seven o'clock, but that was still late enough that people were missing dinner. Hilda could hear the crinkling of a paper bag from behind her, where Mercedes and Dorothea snacked on sweet and sour chicken balls.

After three more runs of the scene, Sweetpea, their stoic mint-haired director, declared, "I think that's it." They did their best to turn to address the rest of their team, in the wings and in the audience. "I'll see most of you in four days when we join Yuri for a, hopefully less chaotic, rendition of The Storm of Myrddin. Great work."

Hilda whistled loudly in support of her castmates, while her friends applauded and hollered. Dimitri bowed to their audience, and Hubert bowed to Edelgard who rolled her eyes and laughed as she exaggerated with one hand thrown skyward as she and Dimitri made their way down their respective stepladders.

"Thank you, Yuri," called Edelgard.

"Yes, thank you, Yuri," Dimitri agreed.

"We'll practice those low notes next time," Yuri answered, before waving up out of the pit to soften his implied criticisms. "You're welcome! We're getting there. There's a lot of range to cover."

Dimitri was still insecure by the time he joined his castmates in the aisles as they marched to the exit, "Did it sound that bad?"

"No," Claude snickered.

"It's Yuri's job to strive for perfection," Dedue observed.

Hilda held her hand in front of her lips for a moment, considering her contribution. Once they were outside, she jut her elbow into Dimitri's stomach so he grunted in surprise, stumbling back into Felix.

"Eugh!"

"Hey, watch it!"

Hilda shrugged. "Just remember that sensation?"

"Don't be mean," Sylvain exaggerated with a whine, giving Dimitri his sweater he'd been holding onto.

"No, I—" Dimitri tried to mimic the same position his mouth had been in, tongue drooping forward in his mouth as he sought the pitch of his exclamation.

"You broke him," Hubert declared, his brow furrowed, at the same time that Claude, Edelgard and Dedue were following Dimitri's example and carrying a deep monotonous tone.

Edelgard even turned it into a line that Yuri had probably been concerned with, that she would sing below The Rightful King's pleas, "So that none will suffer I must forfend—"

Dorothea answered her with The Rightful King's following line, "Living and dead, I will not forget those whom I defend."

"We're not doing that," Felix said, flat.

"Right," Annette agreed, which seemed to surprise him. "Resting voices."

"Resting voices," several people echoed.

.

They followed Dedue to a Duscur place for dinner, and wolfed down their wraps as they waited in line at a club that might be large enough to accommodate their large group.

"You didn't bring your date?" Lorenz asked Felix.

"We're not dating," Felix said, as if on instinct. He thought a moment. "Wasn't this just for cast?"

Lorenz shared a frown with Hilda before he assured Felix, "I doubt anyone would have complained even if you'd brought someone unrelated to the production. We'd have been happy to—"

"Don't listen to him," Claude said, turning from Leonie so he could wrap an arm around Lorenz. "Or I mean, do, because you could have brought anyone you'd wanted, but also don't because Lorenz just chickened out of asking the other make up artist to join us and hoped they'd have tagged along with Mia."

Felix snorted.

"That's not what happened," Lorenz objected.

"Oh, sweetie," Hilda contributed with a pout. "That's exactly what happened."

"We just got to talking, and I got distracted," Lorenz contributed.

"You forgot?" Felix asked, aghast. Hilda brought her hands to her lips, failing to hide her amusement.

"It didn't come up," Lorenz countered.

"That's not better," Claude said, shaking his head. Lorenz shrugged him off and flicked his chest with all four fingers.

"Fat lot of good friends like you are."

.

The second floor of the club was open to the elements, archways acting as windows to the brisk wind of evening, and the bright shine of sunset. The breeze and drinks were welcome, Mercedes, Dorothea and Hilda taking turns sitting with their pitchers, yellow with alcohol and pink without, to protect them just in case.

Hilda found herself distracted throughout the night, watching Claude as he dipped Lorenz, and nearly dropped Dimitri, and joined Dorothea in a samba that she and Annette were soundly better at.

They danced together only twice, the first time early in the evening before the dancers and the night had hit their stride, when there was more laughter and embarrassment in their fun than indulgence. The second time had been later in the evening, when he was flush and tipsy, to a ballad that had them swaying slowly with his hand politely between her shoulders. She'd thought about stepping closer into his space, resting her head on his chest, facing the brunt of his sweat and his cologne, but hesitated — partially because of their working relationship, but mostly because Sylvain and Mercedes had whistled about the way Hubert had held the small of Edelgard's back and she'd stretched back in a smooth, flowing dip.

It was maybe an hour later that Claude found Hilda seated at a table by a south-facing archway, the dim red of the western horizon a memory of the now fallen sun, the deep blue to the east twinkling with a few visible stars over a small lake and parkland.

"You having a good time?" Claude seemed more sober now than earlier, unlike some of their friends, and Hilda smiled softly, glad of his attention.

She nodded and ran her fingers under her eyes. "Just tired. Worked early before practice, and will again tomorrow."

"I'm glad you made it," Claude said sweetly, and Hilda rolled her eyes as she sucked on a straw from a cup that was mostly ice.

"No one would have missed me," she contributed, her gaze darting to where most of their colleagues were gathered, some of their friendships spanning years and others only as long as auditions, but generally they seemed to feel closer to each other than she really felt to them. So far, anyway.

She felt slower at forming these deep friendships that others seemed instinctually born with. She wondered if she'd know any of these people long enough for that to matter.

"I just said I would've," Claude insisted, crossing his arms as he leaned into the table. His hair was wilting around his face, framing thick eyebrows and dark lashes that half-hid his green eyes. He needed to curl them, Hilda thought idly.

She blushed and pushed at the ice in her glass with her straw. "You just owed me a few drinks for improvising with you in your audition."

Claude chuckled and hid his smile in his elbow for a moment. "That was kind of you," he allowed. He looked at her directly, and promised, "But it's not just that."

"No?" she peeped, half teasing, waiting on the joke or the reveal.

"No," he said at a whisper. "Would you want to come over to my place on one of our free nights? I could make you dinner? We could just run lines, or...?"

"Or?"

Claude blushed and they both snickered softly. He shifted back and forth against the table, forcing himself to sit up, running a hand over his chin, clean shaven for his part in their production.

"Or whatever you like."

His smile widened as she considered it, and she wondered if it was because he wasn't facing instinctual rejection or because he could tell that she was interested. When she nodded, his shoulders fell, as if suddenly relaxed. A lot of people had rules about not dating people they worked with, the risk of rejection and the pain of a breakup always had a chance of hurting a production, but she could see the value of taking a few moments of flattery too far. Even if Claude tucked his heart away from something more, even if they only ran lines, she was looking forward to it.

[imjustmarcy]

My Ao3 review of the year??

So, because I have nothing better to do, here: have a list of every fic (mainly bnha, oops) that I posted this year, sorted by different AUs and plot bc holy shit I made like 4 series this year-

Endeavor-centric:

The day that wasn't (x) (5k) Gonna be honest, not a big fan of Endeavor, but my pal Platypus mentioned their dream they had and well, this was born. Basically Endeavor getting hit with a Quirk that turns him into a ghost and makes so he's forced to follow his children around and hear what they really think of him. With a sprinkle of DabiHawks

Hawks-centric:

The Discovery (x) (1k) so my brain decided to write aromatic bisexual Hawks bc self project much and this is just a small piece of him finding out he's aro.

Very self indulgent DabiHawks plus Mar projecting onto Hawks again:

The bird that forgot how to fly (x) (2k) just some hurt/comfort that I wrote to vent

Dabihawks as parents:

Yes I am indeed that bitch. Now prepare yourself bc I wrote A LOT about this...

Phoenix (x) (20k) basically the introduction to the story of Ryu, the DabiHawks kid, and chapter two goes more in depth about him and his best friends. Chapter one is more DabiHawks centric, and chapter 3 is just a mister dump of extra info.

A (not really) spooky Halloween (x) (3k) Halloween special of Ryu trying to sneak out to a haunted house with his friends. Spoiler: his dads know and just decide to fuck with him.

Ryu's little time travel adventure (x) (6k) Ryu gets hit with a Quirk that sends him to the past, before his idiotic dads were even together. There will be a next part to this but at this rate it will have to be posted sometime in January so...

The new League of Villains (x) (7k) so Mar's monkey brain wanted to make a part with Ryu becoming a villain so... He's vry badass and formes the Dragon Alliance, aka the new LOV, with the help of his best friends and with the purpose of destroying the Hero Commission :D

Dabihawks has Ryu, but it's crack:

There's a lot more crack works for the Dragon Verse than there is for the 'Canon' story... Oh well

Sneaky is my middle name (or not) (x) (4k) Hawks has a big ass mouth and lets it slip he has a son and is married. Dabi is not amused.

Who's the dad? (x) (4k) follow-up to that disaster and poor attempt at a social media fic. The internet is smart and everyone already suspects that #DabiIsTheDad

Should've keep it in your pants (x) (4k) inspired by the amazing fic 'Stolen Fried Chicken'. Where Hawks discovers that his son's dad is very much not dead. Ft Natsuo and Hawks being the best bros and having one braincell between the two of them.

Dabi's Biggest Secret(s) (x) (3k) the Todorokis find a bunch of old flash drives with their older brother's videos and discover he used to date Hawks and had a kid with him before they even graduated high school :D

Hawks makes a scene (x) (2k) complementary to the previous part, with Hawks finding out Touya is not dead and proceeding to scream at his face in front of the entire League because he left Hawks and his son to belive he was dead.

Dabi the waking cryptid (x) (1k) modern college AU with no quirks?? I guess. So the league is all curious about why does Dabi never hangs out with them. Guy's just busy with his model and actor fiancé, his studies, and their son.

Again very self indulgent DabiHawks but it's Angel and demon AU.

Angel wings and demon instincts (x) (6k) Dabi is a demon and gets sent to earth to cause havoc, Hawks is an angel sent to find Dabi and keep him from causing havoc. They gay for each other. That's it.

An angel's first time (x) (1k) the first smut I write in the past 4 years or so, still demon and angel AU.

Shiggy, Hawks and Dabi being childhood friends <3

The Terror Trio (x) (2k) those three as childhood friends + their reunion, with a sprinkle or Shiggy/Natsuo and DabiHawks at the end.

The de-aged Terror Trio (or the little menaces, according to Aizawa Shota) (x) (5k) the Terror Trio get de-aged and found by Aizawa, who takes them to UA. They almost make class 1A have a heart attack.

Converting Eri to chaos, a guide by the Terror Trio (x) (5k) the de-aged Terror Trio bonds with Eri and they cause havoc at UA. A fourth and maybe last part on the works.

Yay for even more self indulgent DabiHawks:

The mysterious case of Hawks' boyfriend (x) (2k) Hawks is already dating Dabi, everyone at his agency are snoopy bitches and want to know the tea.

FINALLY, SOMETHING THAT'S NOT BNHA! My vld rewrite:

My Blood (x) (800) Lance is Altean and Allura is his cousing. Lotor is his half-brother. Klance and Lotura. The og version (the Spanish version, being published in my wattpad) is currently about halfway through the story, with 30 chapters. I'm working on translating this one and posting it on AO3, hence the low word count.

Aaaaand that's it. I just started writing in English this year, and that sort of really boosted my creativity, since I started posting stuff on AO3 just this past September, so to post this much fics in that amount of time... Damn. Will update the post if I manage to finish this I'm writing for Christmas/Ryu's birthday/Hawks' birthday.

[zipstick]

Pass the happy!💕🌺 When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to 10 of the last people in your notifications.

There were 10 things, so I’m gonna list all of them because screw you 

10: Drawing. I’ve been doing a lot of drawing lately after discovering that I do, in fact, have the ability to draw people. And as well as people I’m quite good at drawing animals. More specifically, cats and dragons. Why it’s these two I’m not sure, but I suspect it may have something to do with the fact that the only accurate depictions of dragons are the giant scaly winged fire-breathing cats of the How To Train Your Dragon universe.

9: Chocolate, especially mint chocolate. In February I bought some mint chocolates in a sweet shop in Huddersfield, and they��re so nice. My parents got me a dark chocolate egg with some mint chocolates which was very nice. And for my birthday they gave me a bigger bag of nice mint chocolates from the same chocolate place as the egg. Also last year on a trip to Germany with the school I attend I went to the Lindt Shokoladen Museum in Cologne and got free samples of, and bought about  €20-25 worth of some of the nicest chocolate I’ve ever had. If you’re ever in Cologne for some reason go there. 

8: Studio Ghibli Movies. I’ve loved them since watching Spirited Away when I was young (Maybe 6 or 7) and for a few years my favourite was one called The Cat Returns which has kind of a nonsensical plot but I still really like it. And then they came to Netflix, and oh boy, there could not be a more opportune time for me to be shut in my house. I have watched Ponyo, The Cat Returns, Whisper Of The Heart, Princess Mononoke, My Neighbour Totoro, Kiki’s Delivery Service (twice) and Howl’s Moving Castle, which I watched three times within the course of a week (dear god help me) and there’s still like eight which I am yet to watch.

7: Harry Potter. I have been reading the series and watching the movies and drawing the fan art for nearly 3 years now and I really like these books. My favourite character is Sirius and I am in Hufflepuff and my Patronus is a badger and I can remember all the details of my wand without checking (spruce, 14 1/2 inches, unicorn hair core, quite bendy) and now I have written  a chapter in a fanfic based on the Cursed Child. (which I haven’t even come read or watched and was basing the characterisation entirely on how my friend who is the main author of that fic wrote them). I own a Hufflepuff Quidditch T-shirt, a Hufflepuff hat, 2 Hufflepuff pin badges, a Hufflepuff scarf, a Hufflepuff mug, a Golden Snitch bracelet, and a replica of Newt Scamander’s wand. I have been to the Warner Bros Harry Potter Studio Tour and the Platform 9 3/4 shop at King’s Cross. I own a copy of Quidditch Through The Ages, The Tales of Beedle The Bard, and Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them.

6: Doctor Who. I have been watching Doctor Who my whole life. I own 2 sonic screwdriver toys (the ninth and tenth doctors’ and the thirteenth doctor’s) and a miniature Tardis that makes The Noiseᵀᴹ. I have watched every episode since the revival in 2005 and quite a few of the old ones from the 60s and 80s, most of which were the fourth doctor. In bluetooth settings my phone is called The Oncoming Storm in reference to what the Daleks call the Doctor. My phone’s hotspot it titled: Reference Doctor Who For Pass and the password is yet another doctor who reference. I love jelly babies and I will drop a doctor who reference into the conversation at every opportunity. I have taken a photo in front of the Tardis at Earl’s Court Road in London. I have an 11th Doctor notebook and a notebook which is the Tardis. My phone case is also the Tardis.

5: Animals. Reptiles and especially snakes in particular, though I adore cats and rabbits and birds and other such cute animals as well. I’ve loved all things reptiles for months now, since I believe early November. It began when I found this video by Snake Discovery on YouTube. Great channel, highly recommended. After I watched that I looked through their videos and discovered I believe this video of baby Western Hognose snakes hatching. I instantly fell in love. I stopped watching their videos for a while before re-discovering their channel in November, when I fell in love with reptiles all over again. It has now become my biggest life goal to own a hognose snake (as well as wanting to own about 23 other species of reptiles and amphibians at some point in my life, some to a higher degree than others).

4: Watching TV with my parents. Whenever a new series of Doctor Who is airing, get together in front of the telly to watch it. Recently, my dad dug up a few Beatles DVDs and I spent an evening watching Eight Days A Week: The Touring Years with him.

3:  Merlin. More specifically, the fandom. I love looking at gifsets or fan art or fic recs on here. I’ve been watching the show for almost a year now and have technically been in the fandom for longer since I started watching videos of clips from the show on this YouTube channel. I’ve been trapped on Tumblr ever since. Send help. If I have counted correctly, I am on my 4th rewatch of the show. I am in the process of writing a Magic Reveal AU fanfic. I have also tried and failed several times to draw Merlin. I am following every Merlin blog I have found and am subbed to r/merlinbbc and r/bbcmerlinmemes on reddit. I have a sideblog dedicated to All Things Merlinᵀᴹ. Also Colin and Bradley are very wholesome and I love them both.

2: The Beatles. I’ve only been listening to the Beatles’ music for a few months, but I think it’s safe to say that they are my favourite musicians ever. In fact, I’m listening to them right now. There are so many songs that I just really vibe with like I’m Looking Through you or All My Loving or She Loves you or I’m Happy Just To Dance With you or Eight Days A Week, or my personal favourite: Here Comes The Sun, and these are just a few. There’s so many I can’t even name them all. On top of that, interviews with them or little clips of them together are always so much fun to watch because they always have little jokes to make the interviewer laugh and you can tell from the way that they interact in videos that they were such good friends. Also they’re cute so there’s that too. Anyway that’s enough gushing about the Beatles. Moving on.

1: My favourite thing is just to talk to my friends, because I’m lucky enough to have a relatively large group of friends, especially for being the socially awkward teenager that I am. And all of my friends are so nice and they’re always making me laugh or telling me some interesting fact or sharing their interests with me and they’re just overall fun to be around. Once quarantine is over I’m really looking forward to seeing them in person again.

[aweebwrites]

When You Leave...

Polyninja soulmate AU

________________

They say to have a soulmate was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because you have someone destined to love you forever. A curse because life is a fragile thing. This is the tale of how four of Ninjago's protectors discovered that.

As a child, Cole grew up unable to see the colours red and blue. A triad bond the people in his village would whisper when they thought he couldn't hear. Lucky, they would call him. He did think he was lucky. Very lucky. It was the knowledge that someday he'd meet two persons who would love him no matter what that had kept him going through his mother's death and the rift it tore between him and his father. That knowledge gave him purpose.

Jay couldn't see the colour red whatsoever and the moment he and his parents found that out, they were ecstatic. He had a soulmate! Him, the junkyard kid, the wannabe inventor, the motormouth. It gave him hope. Someone would love someone like him…

Zane had only noticed he couldn't see red and blue just a few times but he wasn't ignorant to what it meant. He had soulmates out there. Lifelong partners. He had only returned to meditating. They will cross paths when the time was right. Then maybe… He could have a true home with them.

Kai had always known he had a soulmate. Hearing it as often as he had growing up, how could he forget? No blue skies for him either. But he couldn't do anything about trying to find them. He had to take care of Nya and the shop since their parents up and vanished. All he could do was hope destiny brings them together.

And destiny did, through Sensei Wu. He had first taken Cole under his wing. While he was reluctant, with what being unable to go out into the world just in case his soulmates happened to pass by and all, but reasoned that it was best to stay in one place. He would be easier to find.

Zane was second and went with him without a fight. He was curious. What he didn't expect was to meet another soulmate he didn't knew he had. He walked through the monastery gates and was struck by just how black the hair of the male on the training course was. Was black always so… Bright?

Sensei Wu had called Cole's attention and Cole glanced up, his eyes falling on the newcomer- before squinting, the white of his clothes all but too much. Had white always been that eye popping?

“Could you stand out of the sun maybe? Your clothes are… Too bright.” Cole says, rubbing his eye as Wu rose a brow.

“Your hair is extremely dark. My eyes are having some difficulty adjusting.” Zane also commented, squinting a little.

Wu had stood there patiently, waiting for them to realise. Both of their eyes widened.

“You're-!”

“Are you-!” They both said at the same time, shock washing over them.

Three soulmates?! Zane had never heard of something like this before. How will so many of them cope?

“You are both pardoned for today.” Wu says, walking towards the building. “The test continues tomorrow.” He added, turning to face them before the paper doors slid shut before him.

Both chosen pupils had watched him before looking at each other.

“Hi. I'm, uh. I'm Cole.” He introduced himself unsurely.

“I'm Zane. It's a pleasure to meet you.” Zane says with a kind smile and- wow he was even prettier when he smiled.

Cole blushed at his train of thought, glancing away. Zane couldn't help but notice how much softer he looked with the pink hue in his cheeks.

“Are the colours blue and red missing from your vision as well?” Zane asked him and Cole blinked and nodded.

“Yeah. Didn't know white was until now to be honest.” Cole says, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I didn't know black was missing either. But I'm glad I found you.” Zane says with a soft smile and how could Cole not blush at that.

He smiled however. Sweet talker.

A few short days into their partnered training and they worked surprisingly- or unsurprisingly- well together. They still couldn't beat Wu's incredibly quick drinking time but they were getting close. Then a new person was lead into their world and the skies shone.

“Huh. Your clothes and hair are a little bright.” Jay had said, rubbing his eye as both males looked up at the sky, alarmed.

“Woah… It's… Beautiful…” Cole whispered, eyes wide.

Before, the sky was a big blur of gray with eye popping white cloud but now? Now it was… It was… Breathtaking.

“Is this… Blue?” Zane whispered and Jay looked at them confused before gasping loudly.

They were his soulmates?! He didn't know he would have three! He had to admit to himself that he had hoped for his soulmate to be female but he would take whatever he could get. Besides, he still hasn't seen red yet.

Just like before, Wu had allowed them the day connect, to learn as much as they could from each other. While they weren't girls, Jay found them both incredibly attractive which sent him in a gay panic. He resurfaced minutes later after seeing them interact like they did with each other and himself. What does it matter if it made him gay or not? They're his soulmates and they were already so kind and helpful and thoughtful that he could see himself falling for them all too easily. Together, they trained together, pointing out flaws and areas of improvement. Within no time, they finally manage to best Wu and his quick drinking.

Their last test was to apprehend an intruder. They were all so focused on defeating the stranger that they hadn't notice the difference in their vision. It was only after Wu had changed their gi did they all pause.

“Easy on the eyes pal.” Jay says, squinting at Kai who looked over all three of them confused.

“Wait. Your clothes.” Zane says, the colour bright and hurting his eyes a little.

“What colour is that?” Cole asked, leaning in closer but pulling back and rubbing his eyes.

“My colour?! What is he wearing?” Kai asked, gesturing to Jay then looked to then. “And you two. Your black and white look so strange…” He whispered before gasping.

“Wait- you're our fourth?” Jay says, bewildered.

“Sensei, was this planned?” Cole asked, suspicious.

“Not at all.” The Sensei immediately declined. “Though it seems fit that the four of you, destined to protect Ninjago should also be destined for each other.” He says and they all looked at each other.

Jay didn't get a girl as their fourth but ay this point, he didn't care. He realised pretty quickly that gender certainly didn't matter. Not when his soulmates were perfect as is. Cole may tease him for being a blabbermouth but that's all it is. Teasing. He would sit and listen to him for as long as he can talk. Zane too. Kai seemed a little rough around the edges but he's worried for his sister. Not to mention that it was a little endearing.

Cole had similar thoughts. Sure Kai was a little blunt and quick to jump right in but he was sure his edges would fit perfectly with theirs somehow. Zane was just happy to finally meet and be surrounded by all of his soulmates. The moment was cut short however. They had golden weapons to hunt for.

Kai was a handful to say the least. Jumping into things head on and giving his soulmates mini heart attacks at each turn. Boy were they glad when everything came to an end. They had the golden weapons, Garmadon was in the wind, they had their own pet dragons that adored the rest of them as much as they did their riders (they were suspicious that it had something to do with them all being soulmates) and Sensei Wu wasn't dead! Sure Zane, Cole and Jay almost touched fire and lava several times because it was 'so pretty’ but Kai stopped them with an exasperated yet fond expression every time.

Now that Nya was safe and there wasn't an immediate threat, they focused on their bond and each other, discovering a few things along the way. Like Cole being touch starved and wanting to keep physical contact with them as much as possible. They didn't mind at all- in fact, they encouraged it. Jay for one appreciated a random hug every now and again. He was like a big teddy bear after all. A big, muscular teddy bear but a teddy bear no less.

Zane was the mother hen of the group. He just wanted his soulmates happy and healthy after all. He spoils them with occasionally baked goodies and concoctions he makes to appeal to their individual tastes. Kai was still the hot head they came to know but slightly more laid back than then. He was the encourager of the group despite of that. Jay working on an invention that crashed and burned? (more literal than you think) He pats him on the shoulder and tell him to keep trying. Jay brings the energy to the group. He's always doing something or talking about something and he always has this big smile on his face that often had his soulmates pausing to aww at his constant excitement.

They were all so caught up in each other and pushing training back further and further, that soon, they completely stopped. Which proved to be a big mistake when Lloyd Garmadon arrived on scene. At first, he was nothing more than a little squirt making trouble but then he decided to get payback and release the serpentine. Everything took a dip then. Between finding the scroll about the green ninja, losing their home, Cole getting hypnotized, turning on Zane, finding out Zane was a Nindroid (they didn't mind but Zane sure did at first), Kai's downright obsession with the green ninja title, the Great Devourer, Sensei Wu with his self sacrificing bullsh- you get the drift.

When it was all over, the first thing Jay did was turn and kiss his closest soulmate. Which so happened to be Zane. They've never seen Zane go that red before and was worried for a moment that he was overheating or about to have a malfunction. Naturally, they all exchanged kisses and voiced their relief that they were all in one piece. Now they had a young green ninja to teach and nowhere to stay while Garmadon was out there with their golden weapons. What's the worst that could happen?

The Overlord, that's what. The weeks leading up to that catastrophe really tested all of them, especially Lloyd. They watched as he went from pipsqueak to Ninjago's golden savior and couldn't help but feel proud, even though he got all the fame and glory in the end. And hey! Non evil Garmadon! He was actually pretty cool and *cough* looked way younger than Wu *cough*. But the break was welcomed since they all had a lot of recovering to do.

They even managed a few dates! Four to be exact with each of them picking a revenue. Jay picked Mega Monster Amusement Park and they certainly had a lot of fun on the rides and fireworks show afterwards was very romantic. Kai nearly had a meltdown trying to pick somewhere they won't completely hate but Zane had reassured him that they would love wherever he picked, as long as they were together. Still didn't help him with finding an exact place but he decided 'screw it’ and had a dinner date at Chen's noodle house instead. He was sure Cole loved it at least.

Zane brought them to a restaurant as well. The very one he worked at formerly because he knew the service was good and the atmosphere too. He was just not made to be a full time chef it seems. They had a blast, awing at the way the food was cooked in front of them. Cole turned up the romance with a private picnic in a spot with a great view. All through they had to climb there, the effort was worth it. While they did miss being ninjas, being teachers wasn't half bad. They still had to retire early when the digital Overlord made his presence known.

He was after Lloyd and they would make sure he wouldn't succeed I'm getting him. Or, at least they would try. And fail. If it wasn't for Pythor, the Overlord would have been history. If it wasn't for him…

“We're free!” Jay yelled once they landed on their feet, the tendrils letting them go, turning green as they went limp.

“Zane!” Kai gasped and they all looked up to where their soulmate was holding onto the golden armor, his body glowing blue as he was being overloaded by its power.

“He's not letting go!” Lloyd yelled and Kai, Cole and Jay's hearts plummeted at that, horror filling them.

“His heart! It's reaching critical mass!” Jay yelled with a step forwards, wanting to do something- anything but he knew he couldn't- knew he could only watch.

“If his heart overloads, he'll blow! He won't survive!” Cole yelled, breathing picking up as panic overwhelmed him.

“Let go Zane!” Kai yelled out desperately, but Zane kept holding on. “What is he doing?!” He asked, voice taking on a hysterical edge.

“He's protecting us all.” Wu says solemnly as they all looked on helplessly.

“I am a Nindroid, and ninja never quit! Go, Ninja. Go!” Zane yelled and tears fell from the eyes of his soulmates as he blasted ice at the Overlord, feeling his heart continue to overload, gritting his teeth.

“No, Zane! No!” Jay yelled, running towards him but Wu held him back as large chunks of ice began to fall around them, stopping Cole once he rushed ahead too.

“We have to get out of here, now!” Wu yelled, pushing them both back.

“No! We aren't leaving Zane!” Kai yelled, barely missed by a huge chunk of ice.

“Think wisely Kai!” Wu snapped at him, startling the teary ninja. “Would you rather have two soulmates left… Or none?” He asked and Kai's eyes widened before he gritted his teeth and looked away, more tears falling from his eyes.

“We have to go.” Kai says, taking both of his soulmates by the hand, pulling them back as even more ice began to fall.

Kai glanced back to see Garmadon holding a manhole open for them. It broke his heart to leave Zane like this, to hear Jay's sobs, to see the pain in Cole's eyes but he had to keep them safe. Zane- he choked back a sob- Zane would want him to. He got in last, all three of them watching as they slowly lowered the cover, their soulmate's last moments. An agonized ‘no’ escaping them as it all reached a crescendo, his glowing so bright they had no choice but to fully close the lid as they looked away.

Zane smiled as he looked back on his life, at the friends he made along the way, at his soulmates he would be leaving behind. He remembered meeting them all, all the fun they had, the good times, the bad. He wished he had more time with them all, wish he had done more but he was glad he met them, glad he got to know them as much as he had. This was to make sure they could live on, even if it was without him. He lifted his head and smiled wider. And if it was for them, it was worth it.

Kai couldn't hold back the sob that escaped him once the explosion rocked the ground, icing over the manhole cover, knowing that it meant their Zane, their soulmate was… Cole pulled Jay into a tight hug as he shook violently with each sob, burying his own into his hair. Little below, the Sensei's shared a sorrowful look as Lloyd hung his head. They knew… This would change everything.

They emerged shortly after, finding everything in the nearby vicinity covered in ice, the Overlord… Nor Zane anywhere in sight. Cole was the one to find half his face panel and stared down at it in silence as a tear fell under the eye and sliding down as if it was… Zane's. He was in denial but the truth of the situation… He looked up at the sky, at the washed out and faded white of the clouds. The truth was undeniable. They've… He gripped the face panel tightly as his hands shook. They've lost him.

_______________

(Good morning! Did I cry writing this? Only twice. But it was worth it! I was listening to Numa Numa and this idea held me hostage and wouldn't let go until I wrote it! I hope you enjoyed! Later days!)

[embyrinitalics]

So I said I wanted to write a not-related-to-Calamitous Zelink oneshot the other day, but then it turned into this, which is decidedly the start of a multichap, and which I already have a mental outline for, and which I sat down today and wrote in just a few hours. Guess I’ll throw it in the WIP pile. T_T

~~~ Placeholder title: Dragon’s Den Word count: ~1750 Rating: T for violence, probably. Pairings: Monster!Zelda/Link Premise: BotW AU, Beauty and the Beast but backwards? Maybe? Previous | Next ~~~

He hadn’t always been a Slayer.

It was easy to forget that in the heat of a kill, splashed with boiling blood and embers and lungs and eyes filled with smoke. And that was what made him the best.

So many didn’t have the stomach for it. They longed for simpler times, for a past they had inadvertently surrendered in pursuit of glory and could never truly possess again, no matter how similar their circumstances might have appeared from the outside. Something was lost the first time that wash of terror coated one’s mouth, driving him beyond reason, beyond ambition, to fight for his life, to steal that spark of existence out of something so powerful and magnificent in order to preserve his own, utterly without thought for the reward, that could never be restored. That was what they longed for, and what they could never have.

Somehow he had managed to shrug that desire off, after the fourth or fifth time, and accept his lot for what it was. Unglamorous. Gritty. Necessary. As much a part of him as the unexplained, triangular etchings on the back of his left hand, there whether he wanted them or not.

And that was what made him the best.

No one knew where they came from. Legend said they had been benevolent once, worshipped as they graced the skies with fire, or ice, or lightning, treading their mortal plane as they passed between heavenly places. He found that hard to believe. But he was a man of faith, insofar as he believed the universe was vastly larger than he was and there were bound to be things about it he would never understand.

The biting, autumnal wind of Akkala swept through the highlands, and he pulled his cloak tighter about his shoulders as he pushed headlong into it. The highlands were wedged between a violent mountain and the sea, and constantly subject to the unusual caprice of the weather. It was unforgiving terrain even at the best of times. He gritted his teeth as a gust nearly blew him off his feet. Only a fool would be hunting dragons in it.

He had survived worse.

He crested the ridge that overlooked the sprawling wilds beneath, panting, and started the long trudge down the pass in the misty, judgmental shadow of the islands rising out of the sea beside the cliffs, churning the ocean trapped between them into an angry spray.

Part of him thought they should leave well enough alone. The mighty Gorons shielded them with their mountain in the north, and the domain of the Zoras in Lanayru was vast and well defended in the east, effectively trapping it in Akkala, where there were no settlements anyway, probably with good reason. But the ruins of the Citadel, standing like a lonely sentinel between Zorana and Eldin, appealed to their greed, to their sense of entitlement, to their pride, whispering about a forgotten, glorious past, and in a rush of ambition they had asked him to clear the way.

He had made a pithy attempt to warn them about the pitfalls of chasing after glory. They didn’t want to hear it.

He could smell it, mixing with salt and brine and the moist spray clinging to the cliffs—the char of old fire and damp smoke. It tinged the air with a subtle heat, gentler than sunlight, and he paused to breathe it in. It was close. And, as he hadn’t spotted it yet despite having the high ground and the panoramic view it afforded, it was likely that it was aware of him. That it knew precisely where he was. That it was waiting, coiled to strike to kill him in one blow.

That made it smarter than most.

He waited, too, calculating. He would be at a disadvantage if he couldn’t draw it inland, and the excess of caution it was already demonstrating made him doubt very much that he could. Not without substantial provocation. He dropped his pack, slinging his bow and quiver over his shoulder and digging for his grappling hook. It was a lot of equipment for such an open battlefield; he frowned, dropping his shield with the rest. Defense for agility. It was going to be that kind of fight.

He turned towards the cliffs, unsheathing his sword. The tip dragged in the moist earth as he stalked toward the smattering of trees overlooking the great spiral of the Rist, singing a quiet, rasping song. A dirge, he thought, nearly tasting its blood in his mouth already.

He stopped in the copse. They sheltered a crypt of old ruins, scattered like the unburied bones of a Slayer’s victim. His fingers flexed impatiently around the hilt. It was quiet, but his lungs were still burning with the telltale sting of dragon’s breath.

He frowned. He didn’t enjoy games of cat and mouse; he was never quite sure which he was supposed to be.

The grappling hook fell from his shoulder as he schemed, scanning the trees for a suitable candidate. The largest. The heaviest. The one with the deepest rootstock. He fastened the tail to the base, hoping it would buy him a few precious seconds at least. He turned the claw over once, twice, memorizing its weight, and reached blindly with the other hand to touch the fletching peeking out of his quiver. Two bomb arrows, three ice, twenty-odd unenchanted. More than enough.

If he needed to use them all, he was probably already dead.

He stood and marched on the headland, every nerve on his spine alight, and peered over the edge. There was nothing but spray and rock on the cliff beneath.

Then the air pulled out from around him, suspending him in a familiar, vacuous pocket of dead space, trembling like a flow of water beneath his fingertips. He spun and loosed the hook.

A great dragon, spiraling skyward from the shadow of the cliffs, erupted from the rock beneath, taking with it a geyser of saltwater that burned his eyes, and the claw found its mark, snapping taut around its lustrous neck and digging three glaring red lines deep into its skin, right through the scales. It would only take one, maybe two, beats of its gigantic wings to uproot the cedar affixed to the other end.

It was enough. He whipped his bow into place while it screamed, threaded a bomb arrow, and loosed it right into its underbelly.

Black scales rained over the headland out of the explosion, its horrible, ear-splitting roar cracking the earth beneath his feet. But as he reached for the second arrow, the dragon stopped pulling. The rope went slack as it unfurled its leathery wings, diving right for him. He brandished his blade and arced it across the exposed underside as they crashed together, right off the edge of the headland and down the cliffs toward the Rist.

The rock roared up to meet him, splitting his side from temple to ribs and sending him tumbling down the slope towards the water. Between visions of the sun and rock he saw his sword spiraling ahead of him, and the night-black figure of the dragon, plummeting listlessly towards the great spiral.

The world went white for a worrisomely long time. He tasted salt and dragon burn, and the course, chalky flavor of sand caked on his lips. He spat, blinking himself conscious, and groaned as he heaved himself off his battered ribcage. His sword hadn’t come to rest terribly far away; he got to his feet and stumbled towards it, wrapping the hilt with bleeding fingers.

Then he raised his eyes to find his dragon, but where it should have landed, floating in a bloom of red between the sandbanks, was the supple, lissome form of a woman.

For a moment his mind was a vacuum. Where had she come from, and how could he have been so careless?

The sword dropped from his hands. He ran across the sandbar and plunged into the water on the other side, clambering towards her until he was waist deep in saltwater and the blossoming red. He stopped as his eyes traced the gushing wound, running from her bare middle, beneath her ribs, up her side to meet her spine. Exactly the path his blade had carved out of the dragon.

His hands fisted, watching her rise and fall with the churn of water like flotsam. He had heard legends of dragons that could fool the eyes, the ears, the heart, twisting reality into a deadly dream that he would never wake from. Or it could’ve been a blow to the head, making him see things that weren’t there.

But then her pale lips fell open as she fought for precious breath, golden hair strewn behind her like rays of the sun, and his mind was made for him.

He pulled her gingerly from the water, arms clutching her to him beneath her knees and shoulders, and hefted them both back to the sand, cursing his own stupidity all the way. He shrugged off his cloak and laid her bare form on it, cradling her head as his mind raced faster than the Hebra winds, conjuring ways to keep her alive—and himself, too, if at all possible.

Then her eyes—slitted, green as foxfire—sprang open with a gasp, hands closing on his wrists, and all at once she had changed, porcelain skin and soft figure giving way to something else entirely.

She hurled them both off the sand and against the ridge of the slope, pulling a cry out of him as she smashed his bruised spine against the stone. She had shifted into some alien half-shape, all sharp teeth and milky curves of horn, impressions of claws and scales, the obscured silhouette of dark wings, and a muscular, scythed tail.

“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance,” she snarled breathlessly, and then plunged the deadly end of her scythe into his chest.

His mouth fell open as he sucked a sudden, painful gulp of air, hands clutching uselessly at hers as it held him aloft by the throat. She tore it out of him with a horrible jerk, jewelled eyes full of hate, and then a blinding light, so bright it outshone the sun, exploded brilliantly from his branded left hand.

And as he watched her, head lolling and vision darkening, he saw the terror that must have been in his eyes mirrored in her own.

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

The Collector

I have no idea what this is... I just have to write this scenario out so i can forget about it.

Magic, Medieval, Fantasy au????

“Roman is sent on a quest to find the Dragon Prince and kill him to keep the kingdom peaceful.“

Characters: Sympathetic Deceit, Roman, Virgil, Patton, Logan

Warnings: uuuuuuuuuh... no idea....

General Fanfic Tag list: @ebony-wolf, @nashiraneko,  @secretlyanxiouspersona, @i-sold-my-soul-to-thefandom, @rabbitsartcorner,@punsterterry,  @sleepyssnail,  @nightmaresides, @virgilswritings, @ninja-girl2846, @ninjago2020, @starryfirefliesbloggo, @grace–the-fangirl, @sympatheticdeceit

The magician laughed loudly and threw their head back as they down right cackled.

Roman, dressed in his royal attire and armour, gripped the handle of his sword harder as he glared at the villain.

Patton grabbed hold of the tattered and ragged hooded cloak Virgil always wore. Making the dark haired man turn his attention from the magician to Patton, giving the curly-haired man a small smile of comfort, they had known each other the longest out of the group, and despite ups and downs they would fight tooth and nail for each others safety, Patton held a wooden shield in his hand while Virgil held his daggers, that were glowing from his magic, making the thunderstorm spark and rumble in his eyes.

Logan, the groups scholar and ranger, had a tightness to his face as he studied the scene before him with a critical eye, finger holding an arrow at the ready, all he needed was to raise his bow for attack.

The newest member of the group was the one who looked most stressed about the encounter before them. his hair shifting between dark brown and blond depending on where the light fell on the fluffy curls. he also held his sword at the ready, thinner than Romans, as well as holding his hand that was glowing with yellow magic that had a more fog like characteristics to Virgil’s storm clouds.

  “Princy, princy, princy, after all this time, we finally meet again” the magician said wiping away a stray tear from laughter. Roman grabbed his sword tighter, he had no recollection of this person.

  “And you even used such an ugly and disgusting glamour on top of it.” the magician said in a more annoyed tone. making Roman blink and turn his head to where the magician was looking, which was right at Dee.

the others looked at Dee with a confused and questioning look, making the magician gasp before grinning with glee.

  “You haven’t told them who you really are?” they laughed “this couldn't get any better.” the magician snickered and a dangerous grin spread on their lips.

  “I demand to know what you’re talking about.” Roman ordered. getting the magicians attention.

  “Oh, my precious prince, on a quest to find the Dragon Prince.” they sneered. “There is one one catch, you still haven’t found him have you?”

Roman scowled, not liking the fact that the magician was right. Missing how Dee looked at the magician with a panicked look on his face.

  “Then, my dear prince, there is someone i’ve been dying to introduce you too!” the magician suddenly said with a sing song voice.

  “Don’t you dare-” Dee started but was cut off as the Magician just smirked.

  “Mage Dee, yes, it is he.” they started looking at Roman as they raised their staff making the magic shoot out of it and grab hold of Dee who was lifted from the ground, he dropped his sword and the magic died out from his hand as he struggled in the hold. “But not as you know him~” the magician looked at the others and smirked “Read my lips and come to grips with reality.”

The magic hold the magician had on Dee let go only for Dee to land hard on his feet.

  “Yes, meet a blast from your past, whose lies were too good to last. Say hello to your precious Dragon Prince Deceit.” The magician made a swirl with their staff and Dee’s form shifted.

Gone were the look he had, replaced by the sight of yellowish scales coating his body, and the pair of big wings on his back along with the horns on his head.

Deceit looked down at himself, to the tattered clothes he wore, the shirt that had an open back for his wings. before he slowly looked up at the others who were staring at him with mixed emotions, Roman looked at him with scalding betrayal, and anger, strong enough to make his sword shake.

Virgil was staring at him with wide eyes, Logan looked like he’d been slapped and Patton, gods... Patton looked like someone had threatened to kick a puppy. and it was all because of him.

Deceit felt his heart twist painfully and he spread his wings to fly away, but he didn’t get that far as the magic from the magicians staff grabbed hold of him again this time tighter than before, only making him struggle harder.

  “I’ve been looking for you, Dragon Prince. and I’m not gonna let you get away now when i have you.”

Deceit stiffened when everything seemed to grow bigger around him, before he realised, that so was not the case... he- he was shrinking?!

Deceit felt panic flare up when he realised just who this magician was, and his struggles grew more desperate, but it was already to late.

The Collector, already had him in their grasp.

  “Now. this size fits you better.” the collector said with a snicker as they brought fourth a clear glass jar,  having changed their grip on Deceit from holding his whole body to just holding his wings between their fingers.

Deceit paled when he saw the jar and tried to get away, his legs uselessly trying to find friction in the air. With a cackle the Collector dropped him into the jar and put on the cork lid before Deceit managed to fly out, only making him smack into the lid and crash back to the bottom of the jar.

The Collector lifted the jar to their face and grinned.

  “You’re magic will be the most delicious~” just as they said that, their magic made the jar give away a small creak, and then pain shot through Deceit’s body, as his magic was sucked out of him. He desperately clawed at the glass, only ending up flaking his nails, before he fell over, no energy to keep himself up. he distantly heard the collector laugh, and with his remaining energy he sent a look towards the others to see their distorted reflections through the glass.

a bright flash suddenly grew outside the jar and he distantly heard a muffled roar, before his head fell to the glass with a thud, no energy to keep it up any longer. The jars had sucked the magic out of him, enough that he couldn’t break out on his own, but still leaving enough magic that he didn’t die.

The collector jumped out of the way of the dagger, that was thrown their way exploding out in a bolt of magical lighting, making the air thrum form the energy, before it fell to the ground with a splat.

This only made the collector laugh as they grabbed the jar with both hands and with a twist the jar shrank to the size of their thumb, shrinking Deceit with it. before they opened their coat and put it amongst the other jars that decorated the inside of the coat.

  “I’d love to stick around and play with you all, but my allies call~” and with that the collector vanished in a puff of magic. only leaving their footsteps on the muddy ground.

rain started to fall as Virgil moved over to pick up his dagger, before moving over to where Deceit’s sword lied where it had fallen to the ground.

behind him Roman started to talk about how they never should have trusted Dee to begin with, which hastily became an argument between him, Logan and Patton.

Virgil put his dagger back in it’s sheet before he took Deceit’s sword with both hands looking down at the thin blade, a flash of lightning made him able to see his reflection better, and he furrowed his brows and scowled as he turned to face the others.

  “We have to get him back.” he said. Roman looked like he was ready to argue, but Virgil cut him off before he could start. “Look, i trust him just as little as you do right now. But. No one deserves to be in the Collectors collection. Trust me on that.”

  “And how exactly would you know?” Logan asked, with a tone that told he wanted to know more details.

Virgil sighed and cast a look to Patton who gave him a small smile and nod.

  “Because.” Virgil said as he let his form shift. his cloak opened as a pair of black wings shifting in purple in the light of the thunder spread out from his back, and his legs grew longer along with his eyes that darkened until they were fully purple with a dark slitet pupil. “I was in one of those jars before Patton found me and got me out.”

[tacitwhisky]

Jon of the Kingsguard, pt 9

Jon x Sansa - AU where Jon goes to Kingslanding instead of the Wall, there’s no war, and he becomes a knight of the kingsguard even as Joffrey marries Sansa / AO3 Link

It is easy enough for Jon to slip his white cloak. In the dawn bustle of the Red Keep a single man in a simple traveler’s brown cloak goes unnoticed, just another poor knight or squire hoping for a lord’s favor. Even if one of the servants recognize him Jon knows it will mean little to them, think merely that his white armor is being cleaned. It is stranger for Jon. Strange to stride the halls of the Red Keep without the weight of the armor he has worn every day for years. A cage he’s thought of it as for so long, but now free of its weight he feels naked.

Though he knew he shouldn’t tarry, Jon had lingered in his chamber in the pre-dawn dark looking down at where he’d laid out his white armor the night before. He’d run his fingers over the white enamel, tracing the scrollwork of the edges, rubbing his thumb over every dent and scratch he knows better than his own skin. For so long since coming south knighthood was all he’d dreamed of: a way to slip his bastard name, a way to prove false the whispers that have followed him all his life. What good was a knight who could not keep his vows? Simple the answer had always seemed to Jon, but he no longer knows, knows only that after today there would be no escaping his name, no escaping the whispers. What he does today will strip every scrap of honor from his name. Will prove right all those that sneered that the bastard could not be trusted.

Let it then. Jon clenches his jaw as he reaches the gate of the Red Keep. Only then does he pause, heart in his throat as he looks back at the high walls rising above him. He shades his eyes against the rising sun already beginning to paint the sky in splashes of orange and red, tries to seek out the tower of the queen, the window from which he’s seen Sansa stare out of a hundred times as the wind lifts her red hair.

Come back. Come back to me, Jon.

I will, Jon promises silently, and as he turns to leave the Red Keep, the beat of his heart loud in his ears, he hopes that of all his vows this one he will not betray.

---

A Tyroshi galley takes him across the Narrow Sea, a week of rolling waves and fickle squalls that keep Jon below deck much of the time, stomach roiling as the galley tosses to and fro. A few of the other passengers empty their stomachs until all the galley smells of vomit, but Jon clenches his jaw, refusing to join them. What kind of knight of the Kingsguard loses his stomach over a few waves, he thinks grimly, teeth clenched so tight he half expects them to crack, but he knows the answer. One who’s turned his cloak, one who’s betrayed his vows.

“Volantis?” The Tyroshi captain had snorted days before as they stood on the quay of Kingslanding and Jon asked him which of the ships at dock could take him there. “No ship sails there. The dragon whore has set her sights on it, determined on striking the chains from their slaves and washing the black city in dragonflame.”

The captain had leaned back and shouted something in low valyrian at one of his crew before turning back to Jon. “For a gold dragon you may come to Tyrosh with us, and from there find another ship to Lys. Perhaps one of their captains is foolish enough to sail for Volantis.” He’d given Jon a brusque look up and down. “But if pirates find us off the stepstones you fight, yes?”

Jon had nodded silently, and though he would have prefered it to the rains that rocked their ship and sent his stomach roiling, they meet not a single pirate before reaching Tyrosh late in the day. He finds an inn off the dock and sits in the corner of the common room as the light dies, listens to the idle chatter of the other westerosi, ears straining for any mention of a turncloak knight of the kingsguard, but he hears nothing. Word travels slow, he tells himself, but draws no peace from the thought. Slow or swift, the news will come. News of a knight of the Kingsguard. News of a knight who’s broken his vows and sullied his cloak.

And late that night, as sleep escapes Jon and he tosses and turns on the hard cot all a bronze groat could buy him, all the thoughts and worries he’d shoved down in the creaking hull of the Tyroshi galley seep to the surface. Will Joffrey’s temper flare in a fresh set of bruises across Sansa’s arms at word of Jon’s escape? You left her at his mercy, a voice in him hisses. You abandoned her when she needed you most.

I had to, Jon tries to convince himself, it was the only way. But it does nothing to settle him, nothing to ease the shame in the pit of his stomach.

Hours Jon tosses and turns. Only as his thoughts drift to Sansa does he find sleep: the sweet girl in a slim blue dress she’d been in Winterfell, the way even back then she pursed her lips at her embroidery when it wasn’t perfect, the deftness of her fingers with a needle, the touch of her hands in his, the quirk of her lips in a teasing smile, the feel of her warm in his arms, the tickle of her breath against his ear as she whispered come back to me.

---

From Tyrosh Jon sails to Lys, but no captains there is willing to set sail for Volantis, and so he is forced to travel eastward by land, the hooves of his horse clattering against the smooth black stone of a Valyrian road as he passes hills and fields and ancient crumbled stone sphinxes.

Three weeks he is on the road, and on the dawning of the fourth he catches sight of Volantis in the distance. Jon draws his horse to a stop as he reaches the top of a crest and looks down on Old Volantis, first daughter of Valyria, a city so huge it could swallow Kingslanding five times over.

It sprawls across the mouth of mother Rhoyne like a warm wet kiss, a massive bridge of fused black stone spanning the river to connect the two halves of the city like a stitch trying to draw closed a rotting wound. On the far side of the river, out of a labyrinth of alleys and temples and merchant houses rises a high a round wall of the same fused black stone as the bridge. The Black Walls, Jon had heard the Lyseni call them, the walls that enclosed those slavers of the most ancient blood. Thin tendrils of sullen smoke rise like grey fingers from within it.

And above the smoke circle three dragons.

Despite the cloying humidity a shiver runs down Jon’s spine. Somehow, he realizes distantly, he’d never thought that part of the rumors true. In the bowels of the Red Keep he’s glimpsed once the skulls of the Targaryen dragons of old, but it is one thing to see the bones of a beast long dead and another to see it alive and soaring, scales flashing and wings spread, fire and grace made flesh.

One of the dragons splits from its brothers as Jon watches. It coasts over the city, wings flapping lazily, it’s shadow flitting across the streets and courtyards and alleys below, and Jon can only imagine what it must be to stand under it as it does, to feel such an impossibly huge shape rush overhead. Over the mouth of mother Rhoyne the dragon flies, scales catching the morning light and setting them alight with pale flame.

And suddenly, with a certainty deep in some part of all he is, Jon knows the dragon is flying towards him.

His horse whickers and rears as the dragon nears, and Jon jumps down from the saddle as it rushes overhead, wind buffeting the branches of nearby trees to and fro as though in a gale, Jon nearly losing his feet. He barely notices his horse galloping away, too caught in watching as the dragon wheels in a wide circle and alights on the grass only yards before Jon. It is the palest of the three beasts that circled the city, white and serpentine, and its yellow eyes shine like discs of beaten gold as they fix on Jon.

A strange calm fills Jon as the dragon stalks forward on its wings like an enormous pale bat. He doesn’t turn away, doesn’t run, doesn’t flinch as the dragon circles him slowly, the heat of its breath even from feet away searing as that of a forge. He turns to follow it as it circles him, studying the dragon as it studies him: the white of its scales, the lash of its tail, the tilt of its golden eyes. Distantly, he wonders what Sansa would think of it.

The dragon comes to a stop, and Jon with it. Its lips pull back from its teeth in a silent snarl, fangs long as Jon’s forearm catching the light as it hisses , the sound a physical thing that slits Jon’s ears and pulls at his skin. He doesn’t flinch. Slowly, carefully, eyes on its gold one, he raises hand and touches the tip of its nostrils. White scales rasp beneath his fingertips. White as snow. White as Ghost. White as the cloak he once wore.

“He likes you.” A voice says from afar. “It’s rare for my children to come across a man they like.”

The dragon’s gold eyes blink, and only then does Jon glance away and up to the voice. So intent upon the pale dragon he never noticed the two others alighting on the field beside it, one black and one green. Astride the back of the black one sits a delicately built silver haired woman, a half dozen bells braided into the shining fall of her hair, eyes dark and violet and curious. Jon lets his still outstretched hand fall to his side as the pale dragon whips away to snap and hiss at the green one. “You’re Daenerys Targaryen,” he says, tilting his head back to look up at her. “The one they call Stormborn. The one they call Mother of Dragons.”

The woman regards him curiously. “And you are?”

“Jon.” Come back to me. “Jon Snow.”

---

“And if it is as you say?” The dragon queen asks coldly hours later as Jon stands before in the long hall of a Volantene palace. Though slim and delicate she is no less regal upon her throne then she was dragonback: a barbarian kind of queen though she seems to Jon flanked as she is by jackal eyed sellswords and Dothraki screamers and bronze clad eunuchs, a white lion cloak over one shoulder and a circle of dark Valyrian steel crowning her head. “If you are who you say you are then your father betrayed mine and plotted the murder of my good sister and her children in their beds. Why would I trust you?”

“Your father gave my uncle and grandfather to the flames and laughed at their screams as they were cooked alive.” Around Jon the mercenaries and Dothraki shuffle and mutter, and his fingers tingle for the hilt of the sword he gave up to the eunuchs when he entered their camp. But one sword against a hundred thousand Dothraki screamers will mean nothing, so he stills his fingers and doesn’t take his eyes from Daenery, only cocks his head to the side. “But that does not mean we must need be enemies.”

The dragon queen regards him flatly, violet eyes impossible to read. One of her Dothraki steps forward, hand resting on the pommel of his curved sickle sword. “Blood of my blood, let me take this one’s head. It is known no traitor may be trusted.”

“It is known,” intones another of the Dothraki.

“A waste of flesh.” One of the sellswords leaning against the wall grins, finger idly curling his blue mustachio as he does. “Give him to your dragons, my queen.”

Daenerys holds up a slim hand, and both Dothraki and mercenary fall silent. Her violet eyes move over Jon coolly. “Tell me, why should I not listen to my advisors? Why should I spare a bastard and turncloak?”

Still a bastard, even here half a world away. “Because I know his plans. Aegon the Conqueror united the seven kingdoms with only three dragons, but not without roasting thousands on the battlefield. I can offer you another way. A way to unseat Joffrey quickly and bloodlessly and make you loved by all Westeros for it.”

Daenerys tilts her head to the side. “And what could this king have done to make you betray him?”

“He struck my sister.”

Daenerys arches a silver eyebrow as off to the side one of the sellswords barks a laugh. “That’s all?”

“Every night.” It cuts Jon to lay naked and bare Sansa’s pain here before these barbarians and sellswords who have no right to it, but he knows this is the only way, knows that Daenerys must believe him beyond the shadow of any doubt. “Every night Joffrey graces her with the bruises of a royal temper. You ask why I would betray him? That is why. He is a vain, cruel child and unfit for the throne.”

Jon sweeps his gaze at the court around him, the screamers and sellswords and eunuchs, a long, cool look that refuses to flinch an inch. All the hate and helpless anger he’s pushed down deep inside him for so long he lets seep into his gaze, turns it cold and savage. Bastard. Faithless. Traitor. The words are old dull bruises, but Jon no longer feels them, no longer cares who spits them at him. I did not leave you Sansa defenseless before a monster to be cowed by sellwords and barbarians.

He turns his gaze back to the dragon queen. Call me what you will. I may be a bastard, and I may be faithless, but not in this. Not to you, Sansa. “I do not know if you are a better queen than Joffrey. I pray you are, but you cannot be worse. And if after I help you unseat him you see fit to take my head or send me to the Wall or feed me to your dragons then so be it. If that is the price I must pay to see Joffrey off the throne and my sister safe then I will gladly pay it a hundred times over.”

For a long time Daenerys is silent, violet eyes studying him, the Dothraki by her side shifting their weight while the eunuchs stand still as though carved from stone in their bronze armor. “The dragon must have three heads,” she says finally. “Aegon had his sister-wives to ride beside him, but I am only a young girl and have no husbands or sisters or wives. Many of my Dothraki and sellswords have tried to mount Rhaegal and Viserion and each has been met by dragonflame. Never once have my children accepted so much as the touch Viserion did yours. You wish to keep your life, son of Eddard Stark? Mount Viserion. If he does not toss you from his back then you may ride with me to unseat this king you hate.”