#except for when my friend asked me lore questions about my setting for like three hours

[tista-bie]

The insignia of the Raven's Blades, a faction in my lancer campaign setting dedicated to pursuing justice in an increasingly unjust world... no matter the cost.

This is the full insignia, and what the Raven's mech, Tyrfing, bears, though most of the Blades use a simpler abstraction of it that can be legible at a small size, a sign of their allegiance for their comrades while nevertheless being easily missable by their enemies.

[razorblade180]

Sorry to ask but what’s the dating per nationa arrangement

Oh no worries. It’s been a minute since I’ve actually discussed this again so might as well explain the lore that too many genshin fans know me for lol.

Basically, I’m a multishipper but I also like consistency and have never enjoyed harem dynamics cause they generally feel one note and shallow; so a made headcanon around a polyamorous relationship. Naturally, polycules have foundations and rules, and I had way too much time on my hands one day as well as a hyper-fixation on the idea.

To make the beginning brief, Aether and Amber date and in. The beginning, Aether had concerns about how things would turn out considering he’s constantly on a journey and would feel guilty not spending enough time with Amber. That’s when she tells him open relationships are fairly common in Teyvat; especially in Mondstadt. Thus began a long discussion between the two of them on how it should be set up.

Two people per nation. That’s how many partners he can pursue. Doesn’t matter if they’re a boy or girl. Two hands for two people

Full Transparency. If he does happen to get close with someone, he has to let them know about the dynamic. Aether also keeps everyone up to date but that’s just him having good manners more than anything else.

If Aether does decide to date two people, the first person he dates in that nation has to be okay with the second person before he tries making things official. For example, he is involved with Kokomi and Ayaka. Kokomi had to be okay him trying to date Ayaka.

Partners are fully allowed to have their own relationships separate from the polycule with whoever they want. No need to ask him about it.

Common decency and respect. This is primarily saying if Aether is on a date with someone, then nobody should do something like show up intentionally or try to purposely plan time together with the intent of monopolizing his time

It’s perfectly fine for the partner to discuss any issues they might have in the future or even decide to leave if they want to pursue other things. No hard feelings.

Those are like the major pillars of the open relationship with other rules being important but not immediately brought up

Aether’s Room is off limits. That’s his space to decompress, collect his thoughts, and sleep. Literally all his friends have residency in the Teapot. It’s not difficult to stay out of one room.

Not a rule but it’s unlikely people from different nations plan an outing together, mainly because that person might have their own significant other and they want to respect their boundaries as well.

If a partner wants to spend time with their significant other and Aether at the same time, they can. That’s an internal dynamic between the three of them that they have to sort out. For example, If Mona wants to go to dinner with Scaramouche and Aether, nothing is stopping her except maybe Scaramouche.

This one isn’t necessarily a rule but Aether tries not to discuss much about one relationship with another. He’s also prone to greeting everyone generally if more than two are in the same room, then goes on about his business cause he’s a little awkward. This trait is not shared with the others lol. They have no problem gossiping about him lightheartedly and asking questions.

That’s more or less The Agreement. Luckily for Aether, he met Yanfei and she has it writing somewhere. If any unexpected events happen in the future, they can all revisit it and adjust accordingly. This post is already getting a little long but maybe I’ll do a follow up naming who is with who.

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

Teddy... after being mutuals w you for who knows how long I NEED to ask... what does robobs mean? I've been paying attention to the tags on my notifs for a bit and I think that's the one thing I still have no clue about ahdkshfjshfjd

OH BOY! You’ve activated my trap card!

Short version: tag for me and the gang ( @nosongunsung11 @coyotefang1987 @wildfandom @lemonade-comet @dogliker73 )’s transformers ocs. When I first made the spreadsheet I titled it ‘Robobs’ and it stuck. In March we made a 120 slide power point explaining the lore and we’ve made like 20 new guys since then

LONG VERSION: (and I’m only getting into blorbos from MY brain bc there’s like 85 of these mfers collectively)(Guys who come in several separate-but-linked subsets)

(edit: now with images! picrews linked here, here, here, and here and art by @orange-artist/@nosongunsung11)

THE OGS:

Packet and Pinch: (turn into biplanes) little guys who came after the war, them and their dad sometimes moonlight on a research vessel called Forte Spes where theoretically they’re archival assistants but mostly what that means is that Pinch holds the microphone during interviews because when Packet was allowed to do that he kept eating it. When they’re a little older Pinch gets a proper job on Forte Spes helping out and Packet joins the mafia/eventually winds up inheriting an organized crime unit and accidentally taking over a small city (think like JVJ’s Madeleine era except not on purpose)

Hot Shot: (turns into a diy dragrace car) himbo. former Autobot soldier turned drifter (technically looking for one of his war buddies who disappeared but he keeps getting sidetracked) turned preschool teaching assistant on the moon. Frontman of a very small emo band. Meter’s twin brother, Aileron’s best friend, (Sweets isn’t mine, but) Sweets’s self-invited roommate (weird gay thing)

Meter: (used to turn into a regular car, now functions as a speedometer)(also his name is actually Gauge, Aileron just started calling him Metermaid to make fun of him and it stuck) wildly normal little guy for being so fucked up. Got his face and hands and altmode taken by the government for being an anarchist in cop college. Spent the war on the world’s most legally questionable enemies to lovers roadtrip looking for his brother. Hot Shot’s twin, Aileron’s husband.

Aileron: (turns into a massive fucking jet) pointedly neutral freelance journalist. Extremely chill and wildly pessimistic. Can and will befriend anyone with an unfortunate heaping side of terminal Everyone He Really Cares About Keeps Fucking Disappearing Into Thin Air disease. Spent the road-trip causing problems on purpose bc it was funny and also bc he was pretty sure Hot Shot was dead and he didn’t know how to tell Meter so he was stalling. Meter’s husband, Hot Shot’s best friend.

THE ANCIENTS:

Catalyzer (Cat): (left)(turns into a shield except no he doesn’t anymore because he has daddy issues) fucked up old knight. Kind of a dick except with his knight partner and her spouse (the three of them come as a set do not separate <3) and with his little sister (150ft tall). Memory issues wildly exacerbated by the fact that he spent ten million years on the euthanasia planet. There’s a very good au in which he co-parents his nephew w his ex’s ex-wife.

Firefight (FF): (turns into a flamethrower except no he doesn’t bc what if he fucks up his paint) Bitchass little twink. Catalyzer’s shitty ex who lobotomized him. The god of transformation’s special little boy and he’s gonna make it everyone’s problem. After the god war (during which he helped work on a large-scale lobotomy project that made everyone forget the gods) he realized that if there’s not gods to hang around he can’t get special treatment for being god’s special little boy anymore so he fucked off to live in a cave for ten million years and only came out for Cat’s little sister’s funeral bc he figured everyone who would have known him would be dead by now except spoiler alert no they’re not and he immediately gets his ass beat. We don’t have time to get into his wife.

Moonshadow (Shades): (turns into a shuttle)(uses that to cause problems) Catalyzer’s nephew (she/her), troublemaking Weird Little Art Girl TM who’s constantly tagging along on any mission she can get herself into. Unfortunately that includes the mission that lands everyone on the euthanasia planet :(

Equalizer (EQ): (turns into. Maybe a grenade. I haven’t decided yet) Firefight’s ‘apprentice’/weird intense son he didn’t ask for and doesn’t want and also is lowkey terrified of. Functions entirely on looney toons logic. Theoretically xey’re supposed to be helping FF w his lobotomies but he’s scared xey’ll be better than him and take his job so mostly xyr job is knocking people out with the blunt end of xyr Massive Fucking Scythe for their nonconsensual government-assigned brain surgeries and being generally unsettling. Spends FF cave arc waiting outside where he told xem to which xey're not fucked up about but it does make xem very much more fucked up.

Legion: (turns into I don’t know yet probably an anvil or a lever): Little knight guy under the god of wisdom. Dumb as a box of rocks. Trying so fuxking hard all the time and not really getting anywhere with it but that’s okay. Loves his friends so goddamn much. Really fuckin stupid for a guy who kind of functions as the voice of reason in the polycule. Died on the euthanasia planet. :(

Endymion: (turns into a unicorn)(but like the goat kind) goldenboy blacksmith, built to help the main god make guys, conscientious objector to the god war so now he helps out in the armory. Haunted as hell (just kind of vibing with it). Missed the mission that landed everyone on the euthanasia planet and got locked out of the armory :(

DECEPTICON HR OFFICE/EXTENDED CONSTRUCTION UNIT:

Zephyr aka Dreadnought: (used to turn into a flashdrive, tried to do some sketchy ass back alley surgery to turn into something better and fucked it up so now he can’t turn into anything) edgy little goth twink lying wildly about almost everything abt himself. Former spy, current guy who sits in the corner of the office chainsmoking and giving off absolutely rancid vibes. He’s writing a memoir. (it’s bad.) Gets Fixed by the power of Carburetor going ���wow, do you have any other slogans from like. Hot topic?” and is really confusingly normal at the postwar HR reunion/Hadron and his boyfriend’s impromptu wedding

Carburetor (CB): (used to turn into a pickup truck, got exploded) readymade soldier who wound up taking over as mostly-untrained medic when the actual medic was killed bc he had spent a lot of time in the medbay recently (due to the getting exploded incident) and kind of osmosed hopefully enough to go off of. Takes no shit but has terminal “I Can Fix Him” Disease (both romantically and medically) but really he’s the one getting fixed—he has a hobby now! 😊 (it’s Zephyr)

Hadron: (serial number ending in 0104)(turns into a crane) starry-eyed little science guy with a secondhand soul. Part of the construction unit and also working part time (illegally) in HR. Defected to the Autobots towards the end of the war and is now doing a goddamn lot of finding out for very little fucking around. Very easy to manipulate. Both has a missing boyfriend and is the missing boyfriend. Main character disease (affectionate but oh dear god at what cost)

Reefer: (0100)(take a wild guess) de-facto leader/union rep of the construction unit by virtue of being built first. Doing his goddamn best but he’s fundamentally just a sillyguy. Also has a secondhand soul but he doesn’t know about it. Would do anything for his little guys. Sneaks Hadron his science magazines. Hazard’s qpp, Hadron’s bestie, other side of Rico’s coin. Died during the great latewar Construction Unit Defection.

Hazard: (0101)(turns into a dump truck) absolutely fuckin massive very nice and kind SIC & emotional support of the construction unit. Also has a secondhand soul but it’s never really relevant. Guy who’s usually the one to talk to outsiders for the gang. Has never held a gun but almost got sent to the front lines of the war bc they’re Fucking Huge and hella shit was pulled to Stop That Happening (without them even knowing in the first place). Reefer’s qpp, Dyker (0102) isn’t mine and there’s a lot of lore but Dyker is their best friend (I think?). Dead. (Meter pushed them off one of the spires of Decepticon HQ bc they asked if he was okay and were a little too concerned)

Ricochet (Rico): (0103)(turns into a backhoe) oh she’s so fucked up. She’s so fucked up. Also has a secondhand soul and she’s not really aware of that but she’s not normal about it either. Hadron’s older sister figure (derogatory), other side of Reefer’s coin (Threefer), imprinted hard on Dyker and took the Shit That Got Pulled really REALLY badly. Blames Hadron for Reefer’s death to avoid blaming herself. Was briefly a neutral medic but went back to the Decepticons real quick and took the ending of the war also incredibly badly. (And by incredibly badly I mean she got a group to try and restart the war and recruited a bunch of guys to try and replace her family and it’s Not Working)

Chainlink: (turns into a tank)(attempt at replacing Hazard) Rico’s Fucking Massive SIC/de-facto bodyguard who’s really not jazzed about following someone else’s orders. Does it anyway out of… respect that she got there first (or something.) but makes it very very clear that Ze Would Kill Her (in a weird gay way) If Ze Got the Chance. (Ze is in fact given the chance and Doesn’t Take It. Neither of them are really sure how to cope with that). Died one time during the war but got better and is kind of an asshole about that. Mean sense of humor.

Sprocket: (turns into a handheld cannon)(Hadron but Rico likes him) literally just a little guy. Built on Earth approximately three days before the war ended and doesn’t actually know what that means for anything. Definitely getting a little bit gaslighted here. Finds out abt that and is so betrayed/hurt/doesn’t know what else to do that he turns them all in and fucks off to actually see the universe and the planet outside the war and also go to robot law school. Does tech/support/recon for the squad’s endeavors and missions from a secret third location

Roughhouse: (turns into a lifted ass Ford F150)(Reefer 2 smarter boogaloo) Sprocket’s bestie and everyone’s emotional support himbo and by emotional support himbo I mean this guy is treating this revolution like a kindergarten teacher. Guy who 100% tried to set up a sticker system to try and get Rico and Chainlink to be normal. He’s not even that invested in it he just thinks it’s funny to get Rico overly invested in things she’s Going to lose. Yes she’s his boss technically yes she forgets that sometimes (younger sister instinct). The fanciest and only prewar member of the gang. Former bouncer, early Decepticon recruit, current pacifist and backup guy.

THE SECRET OTHER OPTION:

Rudder: of Rudder and Oar fame. They don’t give a shit they’re just out there fishing. A lot of the time they wind up picking up body parts/people but that’s not what they’re fishing for so they just toss them in the back to sell to the mafia. Together they turn into a bigger boat.

[the-chattering-tower]

For Lore asks!

I need you to tell me things about Shio and Krasna because I read "gay roadtrip" and every serotonin receptor in my brain engaged- do they have any experiences in their travels together that had that 'terrible at the time, but they laugh about it later' vibe to them?

Because I also have a circus performer named Starling (He's a Knife thrower!) I'd like to know more about yours!- Did they always want to be a dancer? Is his talent with magic from something he'd rather forget, or are they simply just reluctant to discuss it with people that don't know them particularly well-even their family among the circus?

This got long, so I'm gonna pop it under a read more!

Krasna and Shio my beloveds

Oh, absolutely! The most notable instance being randomly running into Vortex only a week or two after Shio had decided to start behaving himself. Vortex is a bounty hunter, travelling along the Molten Scar and adjacent territories picking up suitable jobs, and they have spent years on and off in the same town that Shio is from. Except they haven't visited in a few years and as a result have Completely Missed the whole thing about Shio becoming Too Much Of A Problem and Getting Yeeten

Meaning Vortex is very enthusiastic about running into "little Shio :)" randomly! It's like meeting an aunt you haven't seen in like seven years - they maybe remember what used to be your Favourite Thing when you were a kid and mostly guess right which of your siblings is the eldest, but also they only really ask about how school is going (you graduated three years ago) and if you've got a girlfriend yet. This is not at all dispelled by the fact that Vortex is covered in spikes and carries weapons neither of the gays could hope to lift. Vortex asks how things are back home, what fun journey Shio must be having this far out, and also immediately jokes about whether Krasna is Shio's boyfriend. And Shio freezes bc this is already Unexpected and he has No Script For This. Charisma gone. Gay crush called out. Oh shit oh fuck

Krasna tries his best to conduct the interaction in the moments Shio needs to get his shit together, but Krasna's way of doing that is Be Friendly and Nod Along, which according to Shio only makes things Worse and More Awakward. In the moment it's a whole lot of fumbling and digging themselves deeper into social holes to be witnessed by someone who used to give Shio mediocre candy when he was still a hatchling

Later on it does become an anecdote to laugh about though, especially for Krasna who loves to retell it and watch Shio's mortification

*

Oh! Fellow circus Starling haver! That's a fun coincidence :D

Starling is so old in terms of how long I've had them for, how long ago I wrote his bio, that I have Absolutely No Clue where 2019 me was going with the whole magic secrecy thing. So, time to reinvent it! And answer two questions in the process at once

Starling did not always wanna be a dancer, no. Once upon a time, he was a very promising student in a very prestigious magic academy. It's what they were told they were good at from a very young age, and it was true. They were on a path to greatness, according to the adults watching over him

Until one day Starling realised that it's not what he Wants. A friend had dragged them out of studying to join them at a local harpy festival for the evening, and from then it was all downhill for Starling, as far as their tutors were concerned anyway. He found joy outside of the academy walls, in ribbons and music and dance, in entertainment and laughs and quick flings

They didn't run away with the circus, no. They unenrolled, paid their tuition, set out on their own. The joy he had found mattered but he wanted to be somewhere without the shadow of the academy looming right over it

Back when they were still a new addition to the circus, the refusal to talk about where he learned magic from was indeed because he hoped to just…forget. They had worked hard to become a dancer, to hone their art, they had put a lot of love and joy into it. They worried that upon learning about his education, others would focus in on that, ignore his "lesser" accomplishment of pursuing dance and instead mourn the lost, prospective academic career. Today, it's still the reason they don't disclose it to strangers and to new additions to the circus right away, though now less driven by fear and self-consciousness and more by just not wanting to deal with it, thank you very much

Also, it's funny. A dancer with mysteriously acquired magic powers, don't tell anyone that said mysterious acquisition involved a lot of all-nighters and takeout

He had spent years refusing to do much more than basic magic around others for the same reasons. They still don't do it much, not the most powerful or complicated stuff anyway, but they don't constrain themself too hard. They've made peace with it, accepted that their knowledge does still matter, can still be useful and a point of pride without overwhelming. Only then did he start incorporating magic into his dance

[technowoah]

Cant Handle This

Quackity's facade keeps breaking, and he tries to keep the pieces together. You're the only one who can make him show his true self

- Quackity x gen neutral reader

- this is a long one yall.

Now playing...

Can't Handle This (Kanye Rant)

Bo Burnham

0:01 ─●──────── 3:29

⚠︎ swearing, angst, mentions of mcyttwt, based on the song above, and ofc its not proofread

Part of my Inside Special!

Quackity sat in his chair currently streaming right now, he seemed like he was having a good time from your spot on his bed. You were currently laying on his bed after he invited you here to relax.

You two had laid in his bed just enjoying eachothers company until he got a call from Tommy saying he was ready for the lore stream which sent Alex into a frenzy. Alex sent out a quick "Im sorry" about the lateness of his stream and then quickly set everything up.

He then started to stream which left you alone on the the bed to your own devices. You were scrolling through Twitter looking at Alex's fans talk about what's happening on the stream and posting screenshots of his character and himself.

You admired him from afar as he ended the lore part of his stream, he took time to type on his phone to text you that he decided to stream longer to talk to his fans. He looked to you and you have him a nod with a smile and he gave one back.

"Hey guys! That's the end of the lore!" He exclaimed to his chat as he types at his computer setting a new background.

You continued to listen to him praise his chat for supporting him and making him be able to make those types of streams. You were always proud of Alex no matter what he did, you were always his number one supporter no matter what happened in reality or on the internet.

"So anyways! I wanted to talk to you guys! How are you all?" He smiled at his camera looking back and forth from his chat.

◇T0mm71nn1t: THE STREAM WAS SO GOOD QUACKITY

"Oh thank you! Im glad I could share this with you. It takes so much to put into these movite type streams, so I know now it is all worth it."

Quackity's pov. . .

He felt so overwhelmed, he shouldn't have began to stream again. The stress of putting everything together, plus being late to the stream made him rush into it more. He just wanted to lay back down with his lover who was enjoying watching him stream, and that's the goal he wants. His goal was to entertain, it was his job and he doesn't want to fail, he doesn't want to crack.

◇Mayatooni3: WE LOVE YOU QUACKITY

◇catiiequak: QUACKITY ITS MY BIRTHDAY CAN I GET A HAPPY BIRTHDAY??

◇yriaaolic: 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

"Happy Birthday!" He said seeing the comment pass in a second. "Happy Birthday to anyone who's Birthday it is today."

Right now it was hard. It was hard to keep up when there was always a constant demand, the constant need to be perfect, his past being brought up, and trying to one-up his content everytime. He loved this, but at the same time it had the same weight as a job.

In the back of his mind he knew the "When is Quackity streaming???" is mostly lighthearted, he never wants to leave.

"Quack are you okay? Im fine! Just thinking about how to get something to eat at 2am." He laughed lying to his fans, he wanted to stop this stream.

He kept looking over to his lover lying their head on his pillow scrolling through their phone and alternating their vision from him and their phone. He always caught a glimpse of their small smile everytime he looked. He was doing something right.

"Do yall think Taco Bell is open? The only problem I have is that Im fucking starving."

He paused for a moment taking a deep breath trying to keep his emotions down. The stress was getting to him, and he fucking knew it, but he didnt stop. He was going to get burnt out eventually and stop streaming and YouTube all together, but he needed this. He needed a break, he needed to take time for himself and stop putting on a happy face when he isnt.

TTS ◇pulixsaxe: "Did you see what was happening on Twitter quackity?"

"Wait what's happening on Twitter?" He asked with a weary laugh.

I can sit here and pretend like my biggest problems are

Pringle cans, and burritos

The truth is, my biggest problem's you,

Your eyes widened as he mentioned Twitter. Truth be told he was trending because of his stream, yes, but also they brung up stuff from his past again in the wake of another content creator's past or present being brought up. You hadn't paid attention to that, you were only getting fueled up from Twitter bringing up an issue that he already had addressed.

Tempted to speak and tell him its fine, he already spoke up before you.

"I bet it's fine! I dont wanna... I don't need to look." He said with a smile. He always had that smile on.

Either it was a full smile or a half smile. It never left his face and it comforted you somehow. Maybe it was that you were his significant other, but you always wondered if anyone saw the same things as you. The things like his smile that never left his face.

"Yeah! I dont need to look at that." He waved his hand dismissing the comment away. He then sighed letting his shoulders relax as you saw his smile fade and his eyes close for a second and immediately put that small smile back on his face while his eyes were glossy, but bright.

He needed to end this stream soon. You saw his face fall then in a split second come back to life except his eyes were glossy with tears. You wondered if anyone else noticed.

"I want to please you

But I want to stay true to myself

I want to give you the night out that you deserve"

His eyes tearful as he tried to blink them away trying to not make a scene.

"Sorry! Allergies ugh!" He said as he wiped his tears away claiming them as allergies.

"Are you crying? No! Im not a pussy!" He yelled at his chat in a joking manner.

He was crying and he felt weak. He felt emotionally weak, and weak as in not strong, he didn't feel strong and his lover who was sitting on his bed with a concerned look on their face always told him that it's okay to feel weak. The only meaningful thing is how you pick yourself up, they always told him, bur now he felt at rock bottom.

He wanted to give his fans "himself", the goofy, lovable, loud, quick-witted, Quackity. But then again his lover always told him to separate Quackity from Alex. He wanted to give himself to his audience, he wanted to be authentic and share himself, but he cant. Alex isn't all laughs, he is serious, calmer, and when he gets on the screen is when he lets it all out then goes back to his more calmer self. That's not what they want.

"But I want to say what I think

And not care what you think about it"

Giving himself meant dialing back, he wants to tell how hes actually feeling, he wants to say what he thinks about Twitter, what he thinks about certain friends, about his fanbase, and then leave it alone. He wanted to delete social media and then speak his mind without knowing what anyone is saying about it. It was paradise to him, but of course it cant be that way and that's what he hates. He feels like a actor when he really wants to be himself.

"A part of me loves you,"

Alex loved his fanbase, he had such a supportive fanbase that loved his content. Some of them did atleast he didn't fully know, but they gave him the courage to do this time and time again knowing that his content is at least taking them from the harsh reality of real life for a few minutes or hours. This was the reason he did this, for them.

Alex would never admit this but they boosted his ego too, it would for anyone. The fact that there were people who wanted and enjoyed content from him made him feel good about himself.

"part of me hates you"

He hated the contant criticisms, he hates that they feed his ego so much that it makes him want to stream more to feel good about himself and to make people get away for awhile. Alex knew inside of his heart he couldn't truly hate his fanbase, they gave him everything he ever wanted. He hates them for that and that's such a scary thing. He never fails to wonder if he did the things to deserve all the love and hate he gets.

"Part of me needs you,"

They feed his ego, they make him want to go above and beyond. Alex knows that his fanbase is the reason he is here in this chair infront of three expensive monitors. He knows that this is some sort of a job that he needed. He needed the push to keep going and that was them, it was the 200k people watching his stream watching him answer questions about him and

"part of me fears you"

He was fearful of loosing himself to them. Loosing his authenticity to them was something he feared. He didnt want his funny, loud persona to consume him and make him forget about Alex instead of Quackity. He fears what they think as well, he claims he doesnt care, but he does he wants to please them. It feels like two parts of his brain fighting about if he should care or not.

"And I don't think that I can handle this right now"

The text-to-speech bot continued to speak out people's comments that theu paid for while he sat there quietly. He bit his bottom lip trying to not break down infront of everyone he needed to be strong. He needed to be strong.

If he looked up at the camera everyone would see his tears, they would see him breaking.

He played it off as he brough his shirt up to wipe the tears away, claiming it as sweat.

"Im good! Im sorry I spaced out for a second." He shook his head.

He saw you look at him with that same concerned look on your face. As he switched his gaze between you and his computer, he felt his tears come back again.

"I don't think that I can handle this right-"

"Alex." You tried to get his attention.

"Yeah guys Im fine!"

"Alex"

"I don't think that I can handle this right-"

"I have plans later for another lore stream, so Ill start doing that later tonight."

"ALEX!" You yelled and his head turned around to face you.

"What?" He laughed, biting his lip again.

You couldn't stop him doing this, you could try to course him into going to bed, but right now you couldn't find the words. You just stared at him while he looked at you with a somber smile trying to tell you that he was okay.

He felt his mind telling himself that he need to rest. He wouldnt allow himself to and thats why he was breaking down.

"I don't think that I can handle this right-"

Alex was blinking rapidly trying to keep his breathing and tears at bay while he answered his fans.

"My allergies are fine! And I drank water today."

◇moonchild21: WE LOVE YOU

◇sopusand: Why do you look like that?

◇wuackityoo: are you crying??

"Crying is for the weak! I am a strong manly man! Im crying cause I noticed how alpha I am!" He tried to play it off as a "Im a man" joke but you could see right through it.

"I don't think that I can handle this right-"

"I don't think that I can handle this right-"

You had sent a quick text to Alex which told him to end the stream for his own mental health, but he left the message unread. He began sniffing and the wiping his eyes again. It was a wreck and you couldn't seem to stop it without literally dragging him out of his chair.

Meanwhile the screens were getting to Alex. Alex's eyes were getting tired of the bright screens and the rapid messages that popped up on the screen overwhelmed him for what it seemed like the first time ever in his strraming career. He wanted to give them the fun night they deserved and wanted, but he knows it's getting hard to. He dosent know how long he can keep this up.

As Alex kept joking around about his eyes and physical state the chat was filled with "LMAO" and "HAHAHA" which fuled him more and then at the same time makes him want to stop.

Look at them, they're just staring at me, like

"Come and watch the skinny kid with a

Steadily declining mental health, and laugh as he attempts

To give you what he cannot give himself"

He cannot give himself the luxury of happiness. As he went on with his career it became more and more like a chore, there was mostly down days and of course there were up days, but recently Alex gave his fans the happiness and laughes they wanted while when he turned off the camera he couldn't replicate that same energy as he had before.

It messed him up, he felt himself become separated from his streaming. He wasn't being himself anymore he was being Quackity and that became more apparent as the days passed. He wanted to be himself on camera and at first thats what he thought he was doing. He was himself then it turned into a persona.

Alex wasn't okay and he he needed to take a break from the internet for a while, but he tries to act like he dosent have a dilemma going on inside of his head everytime he sits in this seat. Its for the fans.

"Think that I can handle this right-

I don't think that I can handle this right-

They don't even know the half of this right-

They don't even know the half of it"

"Alex you need to end the stream. Please?"

He looked towards you again where you moved your position from the middle of the bed to sitting up on the end of the bed.

"Ive told you millions of times." He paused for a moment looking down at his lap before looking back up to you. "Im-Im okay." He nodded trying to convince you.

"But I know I'm not a doctor, I'm a pussy, I put on a silly show

I should probably just shut up and do my job, so here I go"

"Cant you belive them!" He laughed to his camera. You scoffed at his comment but still kept an eye on him as he talked.

You didnt need to baby him at all, but right now you were worried about your lover.

Alex continued talking and talking, which you drowned out. You were focused on his face and how he faltered time to time just showing a small frown.

He laughed and showed them a good time even though he was hurting. He kept going and going and you were convinced he was going to hold out until you heard him sniff multiple times while trying to make a joke about the new Minecraft update and how the glow squid has no use.

"Stupid ass squid! Why- why? Its no use expect for glowing ink. Who voted for that!?"

You can tell them anything if you just make it funny, make it rhyme

And if they still don't understand you, then you run it one more time

"Dumbass squid!" He pulled up a picture if the squid as he yelled at it.

You began to worry even more as you saw tears running down his face. He quickly tried to wipe them away, but he knew everyone saw.

Handle this right

You don't even know the half of this right now

Right now (Haa!)

Now

Handle this right

I'll handle this right, I handle this right now

Alex leaned back in his seat and had a blank stare towards the monitor. Looked down for a second and then you heard sobbing coming from his spot. Alex had his head in his hands and was crying harshly into them.

He had finally broken, he couldn't stop the tears from coming and the loud sobs that came from his mouth. He was trying to desperately breathe in to be able to sob, but ended up hiccuping while doing so.

Your eyes widened as you rushed to him resting your hand on his knees and you kneeling infront of him.

"I cant do fu-fucking anything!" He yelled into his hands.

"Hey! I know. Its okay." You tried to console him.

"Its not I try so hard! And I-"

You cut him off. "You are a hard worker Alex and you deserve a week or two off. Take care of you self babe." You stood up bringing his hand with you and trying to make him stand up. He followed your movements and stood up with you putting his head on your shoulder crying into it.

"I just ca-cant right now!"

"You dont have to do anything right now babe."

"Im sorry!" Alex sobbed.

"Dont be." You said bluntly trying to get your lover to calm down.

You rubbed his back soothingly as he sniffled into your shoulder. "Im sorry for ruining your shirt." He tried to laugh through his tears.

"Dont be sorry! Please. You just need rest okay?" You kissed his forehead and he nodded in response.

Alex raised his head up an started to pepper kisses all over your face as you laughed. He gave you one last peck on the lips as he walked away to quickly change into night clothes. You smiled as he laid underneath the covers and continued to softly cry into his sheets. At least he was in bed and not makijg himself even worse.

He couldn't stop the tears from flowing, it was like a flood that could only be stopped with time. He felt like a boulder was lifted off his shoulders only to be replaced with smaller rocks. The smaller rocks was the guilt he held. He felt guilty of making his lover worry about him, he didnt want you to worry.

You rushed over to his desk and turned off the stream and his computers not even bothering to give them a goodnight or goodbye. After the computer lights were turned off it was quite dark in the room except for small light.

Finally you were where you wanted to be all day, in bed with Alex. But this wasnt the predicament you wanted.

"Forgive me. I just cant do shit right can I?" His eyes were still full of tears and he was getting tired.

"Alex dont listen to anyone but yourself." You tried to console him.

"That's what I'm telling myself."

Silence filled the room as you looked at him through tearful eyes of your own.

"Alex, you're so amazing and I cant even tell you how much I appreciate you, and how much you change my life. You do so much shit right its scary sometimes. Some days I think you're perfect, but there's-"

"There's no such thing as perfect." Alex finished your sentence.

"Exactly! Even the best people have their downfalls, they just dont show it. And Alex I know you struggle with that! All I can say is that I love you for you." You finished.

"Can I talk to you about my dilemmas?" He tried to laugh again.

"Tomorrow we can talk. We both need the rest." You said to him as he closed his eyes and nodded in response. He gave you a kiss on you lips before laying back down to sleep.

"Thank you."

"Thank you

Good night

I hope you're happy"

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ARE YOU OKAY

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[ghost-ghost-baby]

We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 4/5

Pt 1 // 2 // 3 // (to b linked)

Lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

Summary: Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

“I think we should move in together, as a trial ya know! See how things go?”

“There’s no way I’m moving into your shitty fucking apartment, Deku.”

The three of you were on the couch in your apartment, you were stuck in the middle, literally, with Katsuki’s head on your shoulder and Izuku’s legs thrown over your lap. It was uh… interesting! That was for sure! You’d kissed Katsuki without thinking after he’d agreed, and tripped over yourself apologising once you’d realised what you’d done. He’d told you to shut the fuck up and had then pulled you back in, and everything seemed to fall into place. Then you’d texted Izuku saying Katsuki had agreed, and told him to come over so the three of you could talk. It… could be going better, truth be told.

“Izuku, would you be open to staying here? The three of us can stay in my room, I think that’s more of a neutral ground?”

“Oh I would love to-!” Izuku grinned, leaning forward and gently grabbing your face to pull you into a kiss. You had to pull away when Katsuki growled, although it turned into a purr when you quickly pressed your lips to his. This wasn’t going to be easy, was it?

Moving Izuku’s stuff in had taken most of the afternoon, and Katsuki had insisted on moving some of his clothes and blankets into your room too. You didn’t really get it, but you were just trying to make this go as smoothly as possible. For the moment, however, it was peaceful. Katsuki was cooking dinner, he’d threatened to only do it if you were in there with him, so you were standing behind him with your arms wrapped around his waist and your head on his shoulder. Izuku was in the shower, and Katsuki was using every ounce of willpower to not completely melt under your touch, especially when you’d let your nose brush against his scent gland. You had no idea what you were doing to the omega, the content feeling that filled your being emptied your mind of anything except Katsuki’s warmth and how perfectly he fit against you and you really should have done this sooner, shouldn’t you?

“Wow Kacchan, that smells great!” Izuku entered the kitchen, and Katsuki was too calm to do anything but let out a half assed growl.

“How was your shower? Did you work out the water okay?” You tilted your head to look at him, he was wearing your shirt that fell to mid thigh, and you felt yourself blush as you reached out an arm.

“Yeah it was like a dream!” He chirped, wasting no time cuddling up to you, one arm going around you and the other resting on Katsuki’s waist. The blonde tensed for a moment, but it was still so comforting, he couldn’t bring himself to complain or tell Deku to fuck off.

“No, the right side has always been my side, you can sleep on the fucking left!” Katsuki hissed, trying not to wake you up. The three of you had watched a movie after dinner, (getting into a position on the couch everyone was happy with had been a struggle) and you’d fallen asleep halfway through, so Katsuki had carried you to the room, managing to not wake you up, although his attempts were futile as you stirred in his arms.

“Guys- m’tired can we just… sort it out tomorrow? Please?” You were still half asleep, too tired to even open your eyes when you spoke.

“There you go, Deku, you get to sleep on the left.” Katsuki was far too smug, and Izuku had to push down a growl. You needed to sleep, and what kind of a mate would he be if he got in the way of that.

“Fine… but Y/n goes in the middle.”

“Obviously! Like I would want your clingy ass all over me while I tried to sleep.” Katsuki snapped back, although the it lacked any real venom as he was pulling back the covers and gently setting you in the middle. You shuffled around a bit to get comfortable, letting out a purr when your mates got into bed and turning to the right on instinct. Katsuki smirked at Izuku, you were facing him! But Izuku only rolled his eyes, pressing his entire body up against yours and tangling your legs together before he threw an arm over your waist. Then it was his turn to smirk when you moved your hand down to meet his, sleepily doing your best to intertwine your fingers , and Katsuki could only huff. Still, he snuggled close to your front, gently lifting your head so his arm could go underneath it and then putting his head as close to your scent gland as he could get. Then he threw his leg over yours, and Deku’s -who was already out like a light-, and closed his eyes, feeling far more comfortable than he’d expected.

“Thank you, Katsuki, I know this isn’t easy for you.” He barely made out what you mumbled, to be honest he wasn’t even sure if you’d remember, but it had him blushing nonetheless.

You woke up to rather insistent nipping at your scent gland, so much to the point that it was slightly swollen, and Izuku was so drenched in your scent you couldn’t even tell that he was an omega.

“’Zuku what’re you… ‘s sensitive…” you couldn’t bring yourself to push him off, it felt… good- but with one last kiss Izuku was pulling away and you couldn’t help but pout.

“C’mon Y/n! We’ve got class, I don’t wanna find out what Mr. Aizawa is like when he’s mad!” How was Izuku this awake in the morning?

“Five more minutes- please…” You whined, burying your face in Katsuki’s shoulder to try and block out the light.

“Nope, we gotta get breakfast on the way, and I need to scent you before we go, plus you need to get dressed!” God he was persistent, and you were surprised how easily the omega hauled you out of bed, seriously- he has to work out, right?

“Alpha, c’mon, please!” That had you wide awake, and judging from the way Izuku grinned at you the omega knew exactly what he was doing.

“Fine, but you owe me.” You groaned, although you went over to your closet to pick out an outfit even as you grumbled, glancing back at Katsuki occasionally. How the fuck was he still fast asleep? You’d have to leave him a note.

“Okay, you ready to go?” You zipped up your backpack, hefting it over your shoulder before you turned to Izuku.

“Almost, I want to scent you before we go, so people know we’re together.” He mumbled, eyes fixed on the ground and you almost dropped your backpack as a flush spread over your face. You didn’t think you’d be hearing that today, and it wasn’t a question, the way he stated it made a shiver run through you. It made sense, though, you were still unmarked, and your scent drenched him so heavily he smelled like an alpha, it was only fair you let him repay the favour.

“O-okay- do you want me to sit on the couch-“

“Yes please.” Izuku finally had the courage to meet your eyes, he was so scared you were going to say no, but you just nodded, placing your bag on the table before you took a seat on the couch. He almost fainted when you bared your neck, although your eyes were fixed on the ground he couldn’t help the power he felt, you already trusted him enough to submit like this? He was on cloud nine.

“Thank you.” He sat right on your lap and you squeaked, your face on fire as the omega only giggled.

“That’s my good alpha, don’t worry, I’ll make it quick so we can still grab something to eat.” Izuku grabbed your wrists, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stay pliable for him, especially when he brought your wrists up to his neck, humming quietly as he rubbed them over his scent glands. Soon your scent was completely mingled with his, but that wasn’t enough, and Izuku leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your scent gland before he rubbed his scent gland directly over yours. Your vision blacked out for a second, and you couldn’t hold back a whimper as he pulled back, finally satisfied and pressing a kiss to your lips before he got up, offering a hand to you.

“There! Now everyone will know who you belong to!”

“Congratulations bro! Bakugo told us everything that happened!”

“So when’re you gonna like- you know- your birthday is less than a week away!”

“Oi! I told you to shut the fuck up with that bullshit!" Your friends bombarded you with questions the second they saw you, and Katsuki was already fed up with their enthusiasm, especially after they’d grilled him about it all through class.

“Oh hey guys! What happened to asking how I’m going before you bombard me and my mates with questions?” You clicked your tongue at your friends, who didn’t even look guilty, truth be told.

“Did you find the note I left?” That was directed at Katsuki, who only nodded as you pulled him into a hug, his nose wrinkling when all he could smell was Deku. Izuku was making conversation with Kiri, the only one of the group not asking inappropriate questions, and Katsuki grumbled to himself as he pulled you closer to rub his scent gland against yours, letting out a low growl when Mina and Denki cooed.

“Wake me up so I can scent you too next time, okay dumbass?” Katsuki snarled when he was finally satisfied and sure you smelt more like him than Deku.

“You’re impossible to wake up, but I’ll try!” You beamed at your mate, pressing a kiss to his forehead before you turned to your friends.

“They wanna throw us a party.” Izuku slid under your arm, his hands resting on your waist like you’d been together for years.

“No. Absolutely not.” Katsuki shook his head, and Denki let out a disappointed whine at the refusal, turning his puppy eyes to you instead, with Mina joining him.

“C’mon man, this has been in the making for years, please let us throw you guys a mating party! Please!”

“Never leave the house without me scenting you, okay? Or people are gonna think you’re just with him.” Katsuki wasn’t one for PDA, so he rushed you and Izuku home as soon as he could, pushing you down on the couch and yelling for Izuku to close and lock the door behind him.

“I want you to promise, promise me, Alpha?” Katsuki never cooed, or used your title like that, he must’ve been more upset then you thought.

“I promise, I’ll wake you up next time.” You nodded, brain completely short circuiting when Katsuki sat himself on your lap and went right to kissing your neck. Your head tilted back and your eyes fluttered closed of their own accord, your hands resting on the omegas hips and squeezing when he nipped a bit too hard.

“What about me, Kacchan?” Izuku piped up from beside you, when had he gotten there? Katsuki let out a growl at him, but ultimately just clenched his jaw and rested his head on your shoulder, taking deep breath’s until he was calm enough to talk.

“Fine, shitty deku, I’ll scent you too-“

Taglist:

@pasteldaze @hopeless-ro-simptic @ntngann @somerandominternetgirl-blog @ianem005 @lalaluvzen @antisocial-minnie @rogueofbullshit @hakunamatatayqueen @so-uncute @therealwalmartjesus @unlightedfool @all-the-kings-reblogs @cth-l

[worminstuff]

hello!! could you write a fic (in game or irl) about dream and the reader being friends. then he gets jealous of one of the boys and then accidentally blurts out that he likes the reader? just something really fluffy lol. i hope you have a great day!! i just got caught up on all your fics (bc i’m a simp) and i just wanted to say they make me go SO soft:) -anon xo

your brain...it must be so big...

Dream x reader

no warnings, maybe a bit of angst but mostly fluff!!!!

in this fic its set in game, so theyre not playing the games at computers an all theyre in it, not usually how my fics go but were trying it:) (dont try to wrap your head around logistics im not making this a lore)

^^^^^^^^^^^^

Dream, George, y/n and Sapnap were all say on the docks tubbo had built. George was stood fishing, while Dream, y/n and Sapnap were sat at the edge of the dock dangling their legs over.

“Sap did you ever get all those buckets for more fish for the pond around the community house?” y/n turned to him.

Dream felt a twinge of jealousy at the way shed called him sap, she never made nicknames for him..

“i have the buckets, just no fish. why?” they were both looking at each other when y/n sprung to her feet excitedly.

“well were here so why not get some fish!” y/n was already taking off her shoes and socks before he could reply. Sapnap laughed and stood, joining her in taking off his shoes. Dream watched as both rolled up their pant leg's and ran down the dock to the shore line.

“Not gonna go with?” George looked away from his fishing line to pear down at Dream.

“No. Ill let them do it, its their project not mine.” he looked down at his feet as they swung above the water.

George didn't question him but his brows furrowed. Dream was usually glued to y/n whenever they were together. George had an inking about his small infatuation, it was pretty obvious, ironically to everyone except y/n.

George and Dream sat in a comfortable silence until they heard huge splash and a laughing scream from y/n. Though Dream knew immediately that wasn't a scream of fear, he still lept up quickly turning to where Sapnap and y/n were. Upon seeing them, his shoulders shrank.

Sapnap had tackled y/n into the water and was now holding her up, threatening to throw her into the water.

 Dreams heart felt heavy. 

Suddenly Sapnap caught Dreams eyes, both of them staring at each other now. Y/n craned her neck to look back at Sapnap curious why he’d suddenly stopped laughing with her. She followed his line of sight to see Dream, and George now too, staring at the both of them.

Y/n was about to say something when Sapnap suddenly tossed her into the waters, a yelp leaving  her mouth as she collided with the cold water.

George and Sapnap busted out laughing, y/n rose to the surface and quickly started making her way to Sapnap, he laughed and quickly started getting out of the water, baiting her by walking slowly.

Y/n was still confused as to why Dream looked so...upset. She and Sapnap were only messing around. She shrugged it off in her mind though, she had to get Sapnap back.

“Before you two get any more. Whatever that was.. Y/n needs dry clothes now Sapnap, im not gonna deal with a sick y/n.” George said pointedly, as he looked towards Sapnap. Sapnap rolled his eyes and walked ahead as they made their way back to the base.

George decided to catch up to Sapnap, leaving y/n and Dream behind a bit.

Dream looked to y/n, “Are you cold?” 

“A bit, but im okay.” she gave him a small smile and his heart clenched a bit.

Slowly, he unclipped his mask from behind his head as they grew closer to the base. The other three were no stranger to Dreams face, so he kept it on only where he might bump into others like tommy or tubbo.

Y/n had seen his face before, many times actually, but every time he took off the mask, she couldn't help but stare for even a little while. 

Dream looked to her, seeing her already looking up at him. He grinned, “What?”

“Nothin. I just like you with no mask.” She matched his grin. Dreams face grew slightly red at her comment.

They made their way into the base, Y/n quickly heading to her room to get dry cloths.

The boys sat and waited for a bit until they heard y/n from upstairs, “Can I get a shirt really quick! All of mine are dirty..” She sounded slightly embarrassed but the boys were unfazed.

Sapnap got up before Dream could, “I threw her in, so ill give her one of mine.” He made his way up the stairs to his room.

Dream pouted slightly. Now shed be in his clothes? George glanced at him quickly, noticing his expression.

“why are you making that face?” He questioned.

Dream only shook his head. 

“Its not nothing, you were gloomy at the docks too. Are you mad at Sapnap?” He tilted his head a bit.

“No..well maybe a bit. But I shouldn't be.” Dream looked to George finally, and he was about to continue but he was cut off.

“Hey Alexa!” y/n yelled.

“Hey Alexa!” Sapnap yelled back.

“How many bitches can we fit in a tesla!” They both yelled together, laughing the rest of the way down the stairs.

“What?” Dream was nearing his last bit of patience.

Sapnap giggled, “Its just a thing we do, don't worry about it Dream.”

The way he had said that made Dreams blood boil, making it all the worse, he glanced at y/n. She was wearing baggy jeans, black ones, like Sapnap, and one of his shirts with the flame on it. They were matching.

Y/n briefly caught his eye before Dream turned and walked out of the house quickly. She stepped forward to follow, calling out his name softly.

Sapnap was about to follow when George held his arm, “Let her talk to him.” Sapnap nodded back.

Y/n followed Dream as she watched him walk off the beaten bath near their home.

“Dream! Slow down please.” She was trying to catch up when he swiftly turned around. His eyes were angry, his mouth a flat line. Y/n flinched back at how angry he looked. When he saw her flinch his features softened.

“I'm sorry, I just..” He huffed, not really knowing what to tell her. 

“What's been up with you? You've been all grumpy..” Y/n stepped closer to him.

Dream stared into her eyes, looking between both of them. “M’ not grumpy..im just..well..” he closed his eyes, his face already getting a red tint.

“You're what Dream?..” Y/n asked softly.

“I'm jealous! I was jealous..” He blurted out, looking everywhere but her.

“Jealous? Why? Of what?” Y/n was thoroughly confused.

Dream let out another huff, “You and Sapnap..” He was ringing his own hands, y/n had never seen him so nervous before. He was usually so confident.

She tilted her head, “Me and sap?” He clenched at the nickname.

“Yeah!” she had struck a nerve. His eyes were now trained on hers, “Of Sap, throwing you around in the water, giving you his clothes, having inside jokes with him and all! Why don't I have a nickname? Why don't we have inside jokes?” He blurted out all of his thoughts. Once he realized what he had said, he stared down at your shocked face. 

“Y/n..I-I’m sorry, I didn't mean to get mad like that. I just..I really like you y/n. A lot. And seeing you both all buddy buddy just got to me.. I'm sorry.” his glance was soft, and hopeful.

Y/n let out a small laugh, Dreams brows furrowed. “Really? You? Jealous? Cause of me?” She couldn't believe it!

Dream laughed with her, “Yes! I'm not lying y/n.” He stepped a little closer, taking her hand. “I'm a bit selfish.” His smirk was causing a blush to rise on y/n’s face.

“I like you a lot too.” Dream could've cried after hearing those words from her mouth. His face broke into the biggest grin you'd seen on him,

“Yes!” He grabbed your hand dragging you back to the house quickly.

pushing you into the house with him, he ran to where George and Sapnap were sat waiting. He pushed you in front of him pointing at you with a glare,

“Mine.” he was looking at sapnap.

The group all burst into a laughing fit at the expression sapnap had.

“Priceless” George murmured. Looking at Y/n and Dream happily.

^^^^^^^^^^^

:)))

[interact-if]

Day 2 of Pride Month interviews! You know them, you love them…. give it up for Ames!

Ames, author of Attollo and Metamorphosis

Pride Month Featured Authors

“…and it was a singular, terrible thought, which burrowed itself into your mind like an engorged maggot. This was not a man nor a monster. This was a concept, an ideology, a terrible myth, which had personified itself to stand before you now.You were, to put it simply, screwed.”

After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend.

Too bad it’s never so simple.

Demo: Attollo, Metamorphosis (TBA)

Tags: cybernoir, thriller

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: Tell us a little bit about your project(s)!

Attollo is a cyber-noir horror set in a walled city off the coast of the Atlantic that’s been a victim of a nuclear disaster. After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend. Too bad it’s never so simple. Attollo is a 17+ game that deals with heavy topics and a lot of moral questioning; from cults to corrupt government, it has no shortage of monsters in the dark—both metaphorical and literal.

Metamorphosis is a crime/horror story based in the world of crime scene cleanup, where there are three simple steps: Get the call, clean the scene, and don’t ask too many questions. These are the rules that you live by under the employment of Noctua’s Crime Scene Services, and you credit them for keeping you alive.

However, after a routine house call brings forth nightmares of memories that are not your own, you find yourself pulled deeper into Noctua—a city of both monster and man—in a bid to find out the truth behind the murder of Deirdre Callow, and better yet, how her memories came to be yours. Your job mandates that you don’t dig too deep—but could this finally be the exception?

Metamorphosis is 18+ and will have explicit content; follow the last moments of a stranger to find out not only who took her life, but how this connects to the underbelly that Noctua works so hard to hide.

Q2: Why interactive fiction? What drew you to the medium?

Lmaoo, oh man. I think it really all began last summer when I first found examples of interactive fiction. I don’t even remember how I came across it, it might’ve been that I saw it mentioned in a post or I saw it as a tag on Itch.io, but at some point, last summer I began to investigate it more. I think what really drew me in was the ability for the player to control the narrative; it was like playing an old RPG, but modernized, and the fact that I could see a story unfold that was influenced by my decisions was so fascinating to me. Not to mention that IF allows so much more character depth than regular novels, in my opinion.

I’m 99% sure my first exposure to interactive fiction was through the game Crème de la Crème (a fantastic game, by the way) and I just enjoyed it so much that I went haywire for the genre. Then Temple of the Endless Night came out (another fantastic game that I’m looking forward to!), and that was really the turning point for inspiring me to give it a go. Now, almost a year later, here I am working on my own two games!

Q3: Are your characters influenced by your identity? How?

My bisexuality doesn’t have much of a major influence on the game, but I do think it contributed to the way that I view and write relationships. I figured out my sexuality around high school (I kissed a girl in high school and found out I liked it just as much as when I kissed a boy) and since then I’ve been very involved in the LGBTQ+ community of both my hometown and uni town.

I think this involvement, like being able to hear about other people’s experiences and share my own, has made me feel a lot more comfortable writing some of the characters in the game. Although Attollo and Metamorphosis both don’t focus heavily on relationships (both have murder in them, which I feel is a bit more pressing), I do keep the option for any RO’s to be romanced by anyone, regardless of gender or preference, because that’s simply what I’ve become so attuned to. In terms of side characters relationships as well, I think my involvement and my own experiences have allowed me to write far more diverse relationships than I might have, and I think that this has also allowed a more fulfilling experience for players when reading through.

I also have incorporated some struggles that I’ve faced before because of my identity into the games. For example, I and a few others have faced issues with religion due to who we are, and I incorporate this into both games. Dreamwalker, Pariah, and Sysba from Attollo all have shadows of this experience in their character origins, and Ilali and Ariston from Metamorphosis has a major point involving identity and beliefs. Both games also have undertows of ostracization and division between groups, which is also something I’ve experienced in the past. Being able to grapple these moments and control them via a narrative has been eye opening for both myself and others involved, and I’m hoping it can be a learning experience for the readers as well.

Q4: What would you like to see more of in LGBT+ fiction?

I think, now, the amount of progress in LGBTQ+ fiction is expanding at a wonderful rate. There are so many interactive fictions with options to select sexuality, select gender, select beliefs, etc. However, despite this expansion, there’s still a good deal of backlash against some aspects of LGBTQ+ fiction.

For example, as a bisexual woman who has dated men, I know there are some individuals who may not consider me a part of the LGBTQ+ because of this aspect. Not only is this incredibly disheartening, but it’s a viewpoint that I think should be educated against, and fiction is a fantastic pathway to do this. Another example I can think of is a friend of mine who identifies as asexual but is sex-neutral rather than sex-repulsed. Most people can’t believe her when she says this, and she often faces backlash for this declaration as well. This is another thing that I think that, with exposure through a medium such as fiction, can be worked on.

What I’m trying to say here is that I think LGBTQ+ fiction can be a brilliantly educational platform—if used right. Although it already teaches so much with what it has, I think having that representation of different subgroups of sexuality, of their experiences and beliefs, so people can become aware and knowledgeable of these options, is something I’d like to see more of.

Q5: What or who are some of your biggest inspirations?

Oh man, I struggled to list off inspirations because I know I have some, but as soon as someone asks me who they are my brain just goes ‘brrrrrr’ LMAO.

In terms of the games that I write and the worlds that I build, I think David Lynch and Robert Chambers are probably the two that I somehow incorporate. Attollo and Metamorphosis both have a lot of surrealist horror, which are what these two really specialized in. Shirley Jackson is also another person who inspired me a lot when it came to the writing and creation of Attollo, especially the intrapersonal relationships between the characters.

In terms of life, this is something else I really struggle to answer. I don’t really have celebrity inspirations or anything like that, but I do get inspired by my close friends and sister a lot. Seeing them go through the struggles that they face and absolutely thrive really drives me to push through my own struggles. They’re the strongest, most brilliant group of people that I know, and I consider myself incredibly fortunate that I can be a part of their lives. Not only that, but we also all collectively encourage each other to push further and to chase our dreams (as cheesy as that is LMAO) and that’s something that I think is another stroke of good fortune. I struck gold when I met them, and they’re some of the biggest inspirations in my life.

Q6: What’s a super vague spoiler for your current project?

For Attollo, I’d say ‘Home is where the heart is.’ For Metamorphosis, to quote John Berendt, ‘Always stick around for one more drink.’

Q7: Lastly, what advice would you give to your readers?

What advice would I give to you all? Oh my, I’m not exactly a wise woman here, but I’ll do my best to give you something lmaooo. I think what I really want you to walk away with, from both my stories and this interview, is that if you’re passionate about something, then share it with the world. Don’t let anyone deter your passion.

I remember listening to this painter once who commented to his friend how he ‘really liked painting’, and his friend’s first response was ‘but are you good at it?’. He then compared this to the scenario of walking; would you say, ‘but are you good at it?’ to someone who said, ‘I really like walking’? No, because it simply wouldn’t make sense, and it doesn’t make sense to say that to anyone who’s doing something out of passion.

To put it simply—if you love something, then don’t let anyone take that passion from you. I began writing these stories because I’m passionate about Attollo and Metamorphosis; I love each character, each bit of lore, and I share it with you because I want you all to enjoy it as well. Am I the best writer? God, no. Does everyone like what I write? Definitely not. But will I let this stop me from writing, from enjoying what I’m doing? Never, and I want you to do the same.

Explore your passions, embrace your passions, and let what makes you happy continue to do so

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (February 21/2021) - Tommy’s Visit, Guard Training Day

It’s the day for Tommy’s final prison visit, one last visit to see Dream and gain closure. Things don’t go exactly to plan, though, and the situation takes a turn for the worse...

Jack Manifold and Quackity discuss business plans, Eret returns to start collecting taxes, and Sam decides it’s about time to get some helping hands, getting Bad and Antfrost on the job.

A summary of the week’s total events can be found at the end of the post.

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

HBomb94

Tommy

Tommy (Again)

Jack Manifold

Eret

Awesamdude

Foolish (Again)

Ranboo

---

- Foolish works on building HBomb a giant mansion in the savannah village.

- HBomb and Niki build a Bellsprout Pokemon head attached to Ponk’s tree in Lemon City.

-

--- Tommy’s Prison Visit ---

-

- Tommy comes online to visit Dream one last time in prison, for closure. Even though Dream is locked up and out of sight, he still feels miserable, a little bit empty.

“I think it’s because I haven’t shut the book. He’s still in my life, y’know?”

- He heads over to the prison. He is greeted by photos of BBH and Rat. The pictures George put on the entrance are still there.

- Tommy comes through to the lobby and greets Sam. Sam asks the questions.

“When was the last time you visited the prison?” 

“A bit ago...like a while back. A month. A month ago.”

“Where is your place of residence currently located?”

“My home over there, down yonder. The hotel. The Big Innit Hotel, Sam.”

“Do you believe that the prisoner is deserving of being locked up?”

“Yes, yeah, I absolutely do. I think he’s a wrongen. I don’t think he deserves death, though. I should make that very clear. I don’t think he deserves death.”

“What are your prior relations with the prisoner?” 

“I think he’s a bastard, he’s ugly, and um...I’d say...We manipulated one another. He...he manipulated me, kind of a bit of the villain, kind of an evil guy, kind of the ‘Dr. Octopus’ of the Dream SMP universe.”

- Tommy puts his items in the locker and they go through.

- Tommy comments on how every traumatic place he’s been in has been made of blackstone.

- Tommy doesn’t need to see Dream, “Unless one of my close friends dies...”

- They make it to the lava wall. The lava descends, and Tommy enters the cell.

- They greet each other. Dream’s lost his clock since the last time Tommy visited, and Tommy cracks a joke.

Dream: “That’s the Tommy I know...”

Dream throws Tommy some potatoes to regen health.

- Dream says he’s happy that Tommy came to visit. It’s been a while. Tommy tells him that it’s his last time visiting. Dream asks why, and insists that he’ll get out eventually.

- Tommy asks about the crying obsidian. Dream explains that it’s a security measure, and he likes to watch it drip.

- Tommy says it’s his last visit again, and the conversation grows more tense as they argue about exile, and Tommy says that he can’t even go into plains biomes now without trembling.

- Tommy then asks about the books he asked Dream to write, to which Dream replies that he burned them.

- Tommy opens the chest and sees the thank you letters. Tommy asks if Dream knows anything about the Egg. Dream doesn’t know much about it.

- The subject of it being Tommy’s final visit comes up again, and Tommy tells Dream that he doesn’t want him in his life anymore, that he ruined L’manburg and almost killed Tubbo.

Dream: “I did bad things, but...everybody thinks they’re right from their perspective.”

Tommy: “That’s not true. That’s not true!”

Dream: “I think I’m right. I did bad things but I did them for good reasons, but I’ve learned, I’ve...I did bad things and I’ve learned that I shouldn’t have done them.”

Tommy: “What good reasons? No, please, enlighten us.”

Dream: “I just wanted a...I just wanted to bring the server together, have it be...a happy family, y’know?”

Tommy: “Bring the server t-- you f-- Dream, you blew up L’manburg, Dream. You tried killing me! You tried killing everyone! You tried hurting people’s loved ones, man, it’s like what the fuck! You’re delusional, man, and I’m fucking sick of it. And I...but I don’t need to go through any of this stress anymore, alright? Because this is me doing this to me now, not you. You’re fine now, you’re locked up now, you’re a bitch. I’m the one that’s giving me the stress here now...but I’m better than that! I’m better than you, alright? So I’m done here.”

“You ruined my past, Dream, but you will NOT ruin my future.”

- Dream continues to insist that he’s changing. All of a sudden, Tommy hears TNT explosions.

Dream: “Sounds like a security issue.”

- Sam disappears. Tommy calls to be let out.

Tommy: “Dream, it hasn’t been an honor knowing you, but it will be an honor forgetting you.”

- The explosions continue.

- Dream says he wrote the 7-days waiver and thinks this might be a security issue, but he doesn’t know what’s going on.

- Dream and Tommy continue to argue.

Tommy: “I KNOW YOU. You haven’t changed! You’re the fuckin’ monster of this server, alright!? Not the Egg, not anything like this, YOU ARE!”

- Tommy only has one life left, so if he dies in here, then he dies for good. 

(Dying by the lava wall to get out would be a canon death)

- Tommy panics and starts burning Dream’s books in the lava. And the item frame. Dream takes the rest of the books into his inventory.

- Dream hands him a book and says he could write a story.

- Dream continually insists that he’s changed, and that he didn’t have anything to do with the TNT.

Tommy: “You’ve not changed, you’re the same old...you’re evil. You’re just evil.”

- Sam messages saying the prison is on lockdown, and to hang tight.

- Dream hands Tommy more potatoes, but he doesn’t have many left. They’ll have to wait for the automated refill.

- Tommy asks how long it’ll be. Dream guesses up to a week, like the waiver says.

“Oh no...”

Tommy ends his stream there.

---

- Jack logs on to check on the hotel and is confused by where Tommy is. He checks Twitter and finds out that Tommy has been locked in prison. He asks Sam to confirm. Sam tells him that there’s been a security issue and no one is to approach the prison.

- At first, Jack is outraged that his plans have been foiled again. But then he realizes that, with Tommy in prison, he’s now gained ownership of the hotel! He rebrands it to the Big Jack Manifold Hotel.

- Jack goes to rebrand and Sam Nook greets him at the hotel. Sam argues with Jack, not wanting Jack to take ownership.

- Jack speaks with Quackity, telling him that Tommy’s in jail. Quackity talks about how there’s soon to be an established currency: the diamond. Jack agrees to pay two diamonds for leather.

- Eret comes over to the hotel and Quackity and Jack speak with them. They tell Eret about Tommy being in jail. Eret calls it a “hostile takeover of Tommy’s hotel,” but Jack tries to convince him that it was bad for branding for Tommy’s name to be on the hotel.

- Quackity tells Eret that he’s setting up a big gathering for the opening of his business soon.

- Jack and Eret argue about hotel pricing.

- Quackity tells Jack to not be intimidated by competition, and also describes a plan to create a network of easily-accessible roads. He doesn’t like the wooden path, and says that Jack’s hotel would be a good destination for business. 

- Quackity questions what Jack will do when Tommy gets out of prison. Jack insists it will be fine.

- Jack works on rebranding.

- He then speaks with Badboyhalo. Bad finds out about Tommy being in jail and is surprised. Jack theorizes that maybe he tried to break Dream out.

- Bad discusses having a room in the hotel. Jack asks for payment.

- Eret comes up with a plan to tax the shit out of everyone.

- Sam starts stream at the prison. He doesn’t know what the explosions were.

- He calls for Bad and Ant, as he’s going to make them guards. They’re part of the Badlands and he trusts them.

- The two arrive. Sam fills them in: Tommy came to visit Dream, as he had already 2 or 3 times, and there was TNT going off near the prison. He needs to figure out what’s happening, but he can’t leave the prison and he can’t be in every place at once, which is where the guards come in.

- He opens Locker 2 since Locker 1 still has Tommy’s stuff in it. Sam then starts filling them in on what each lever does.

- Sam walks them through navigating the prison and then shows them the guard-specific areas like the locker room and stasis chamber.

- Sam then shows them the spawn traps. Ant and Bad set their spawns. Each guard gets three full sets of Netherite, three chances to stop whatever security issue may arise.

- At the end of the next tunnel is something top secret that can’t be showed on-stream. 

- He also shows the chest with the waivers, including Ranboo’s in Enderman.

- Sam declares Ant and Bad officially guards. They are happy to finally be employed. Sam says he’s not paying them anything except the satisfaction of knowing they’ll be helping to keep Dream in there.

- Sam, Bad and Ant find Eret’s tax request.

- Ranboo works on building a farm, starting his farmer arc.

- There’s a secret message spelled out in his inventory that reads: “HE IS IN CON(T)ROL.”

Upcoming Events:

- Quackity’s business reveal

- Whatever is going to happen in the prison now...

END OF WEEK RECAP:

2/15 - Ranboo finds his wall signs changed

2/16 - Tommy’s hotel opening, Karl and Sapnap name Kinoko Kingdom

2/17 - Foolish, Ponk and HBomb’s lore, Bad confronts Puffy about the propaganda

2/18 - Bad and Antfrost confront Puffy about the propaganda

2/19 - George vandalizes the prison, Captain Puffy’s Prank Wars

2/20 - Nothing much happens.

2/21 - Tommy gets trapped in prison, Jack and Quackity speak, Eret returns

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sea Salt: Two

Summary: As a noblewoman from a small (and nefarious) kingdom in the Stepstones and quiet Lady-in-Waiting to Princess Elia Martell, she is accustomed to being looked through rather than looked at. The only exceptions to this rule are Prince Oberyn and Lord Willas Tyrell but they are often far from the dark shadows of the Red Keep or Dragonstone. She finds comfort in her quiet friendship with the princess and the delight of the darling royal children. But as Prince Rhaegar places a wreath of blue roses in the lap of Lady Lyanna Stark and rebellion starts to rage, she knows she will have to live up to her reputation. But luckily, she seems to have two allies lurking in the shadows.

Pairing(s): Willas Tyrell/F!Reader/Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand

Word Count: 24.6k (T_T)

Rating for this chapter: NC-17 for a bit of violence and mention of blood and warfare, my over-use of italics and using time jumps, and my love for ASOIAF lore. Ellaria is the only one in this relationship with a functioning braincell and reader is always happy to learn new things (ie: they have sex. they like it) If you have any questions about the lore or who is who or need clarifications, please just ask! I’m playing fast and loose with a bit of it, and a few ages, too. But I’m always happy to answer any questions you have! Thank you to everyone who was so kind about the first chapter and gave me ideas for this one. I love you. 

(Banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites) 

Chapter Two: Salt of the Sweat

Read Chapter One Here!

Or read this chapter on Ao3!

The quill was running dry as she finished the missive. A knock came at the door and her uncle Hammond walked in. “Are you ready?”

Y/N nodded and sealed the letter, knowing the ink would smear in her haste. She handed it off to a handmaiden to be sent as soon as they were aboard the small, unmarked ship, before bending down and gathering both Aegon and Jon into her arms with a now-practiced ease. The two babies each pushed out a hand to wrap their little fingers around the silver hanging beneath her collar, enjoying the warmth the delicate metal exuded. The sun charm glinted in the growing moonlight.

Hammond nodded, a bit sad, and kissed her forehead as he stepped to her side. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.”

Prince Oberyn- The babes are growing strong. We depart Skilliga tonight. Thank you for the gold and for the necklace. I have sent Arthur and Dawn home with Ashara. Please be gentle with her, she is my last true friend aside from you and Willas. I do not know when I shall be able to write to you again, but I will try.

Ashara had arrived on the sharp rock shores of Skilliga only a few weeks after Arthur had come, holding a bag of gold from House Martell and a small box with a delicate silver necklace tucked inside—a long chain of braided silver and two charms hung at the bottom; a shark and a sun. It was beautiful, truly. Far more beautiful than anything Y/N had ever owned. Skilliga, for all its charms, did not favor pretty things. “Elia had the finest smith in Sunspear craft it for you—it was supposed to be your nameday present.” Her smile was sad. “She swore me to secrecy, you know. Wanted it to be a surprise.”

And the babies were fond of it, too. Their little hands always searched for it when she held them and she would dangle it above their cribs when they would fuss at night, letting the moonlight catch the polished silver. They seemed to like it.

My Prince- Rhaenys has taken to reading to the boys at night—I think she has memorized the story you sent. It hardly leaves her side. It was the book your mother read to you and Elia when you were younger, was it not? Filled with sparkling waters and talking turtles. She grows stronger and brighter every day. I know you would be proud of her. I know Elia would be, too. I miss her more than words can say. I try to tell Aegon and Elia all I know of her, and I tell Jon what I can of Lyanna, but I feel I am a poor replacement for their true mothers. I know you and Prince Doran are biding your time and I have taken your advice to not stay in one place for too long. But I do hope I am able to see you again soon.

She spent her lonely nights reading about the history she was not taught in Skilliga—of the flight of the Targaryens to Dragonstone before the Doom, of Garin the Great of the Rhoynar, of magic she did not know could be real. All of it. The world seemed so much smaller and larger now, somehow at the same time.

Her book snapped shut at the sound of one of the boys starting to cry in their bassinet. She rose from her cushioned chair and stepped toward their room, ready to help soothe him but was unsurprised when she saw Rhaenys leaning over Aegon’s crib, humming a little tune as she rubbed at her brother’s tummy, a move Elia was fond of when her children were fussy—Rhaenys must have seen Elia do it before…well, before. Aegon’s cries quickly quieted and Y/N smiled at Rhaenys who looked a little bashful as she turned and spotted her in the doorway.

“Would you like some honeyfingers, sunshine?”

Lord Willas- Lys was strange. But it kept Aegon safe—his silver hair did not look out of place here. But Rhaenys did. A man at the market spotted her—tried to steal her from my arms and screamed of how the Usurper would grant him gold and titles if he brought her back to Westeros. I lost my favorite dagger in his neck. We set sail in just a few moments.

Pentos had been next. And a handful of years passed in the shadows of a Pentoshi tower. The children still kept close to her, hiding behind her legs in the market when someone walked too close or looked too long. But they were growing each day.

Balerion, who was now very large and very mean to anyone he did not like, was the one constant in their lives, it seemed. He had grown even meaner since they had started to travel through Essos, purring contentedly only if in the laps of Rhaenys or her brothers—he would only grace Y/N with his presence when Rhaenys was busy with her studies and he knew not to disturb her and Jon and Aegon were involved with the tutors she managed to hire. He would curl up in her lap and she would have to remain very still if she did not want his razor sharp nails to puncture her breeches (again) in retaliation for being woken from his nap before he was fully rested.

But his fur was very soft and he made the little ones smile—she could take a few moments to breathe, nowhere to go, no one to meet, if it kept the cat happy. But today he was batting at the slip of parchment she was trying to read. It was from a Pentoshi Magistrate named Illyrio or something—Balerion had shredded the bottom—who was hoping to meet with her (and the children he had heard rumors of for ‘quite some time’) and promised more riches and more ‘protection.’ He had ulterior motives, she was sure, but she needed all the help she could find.

Balerion gave up on the shredded parchment and leapt from Y/N’s lap before stretching for a moment beside her feet. His big, fluffy head turned this way and that, as if looking for something. And then, as if on cue, Rhaenys darted out of the manse’s solar and scooped the cat up into her arms and placed a kiss on the top of his head. It earned her a rumbling purr in return.

“How would you feel about meeting someone for supper tonight, sunshine?”

My Prince- Congratulations on your newest daughter! An even eight—you must be so proud. The way you write of Ellaria is fit for songs. I know your daughters will flourish with your guiding hand. I will tell Rhaenys and Aegon of their new cousin, they are always happy to hear of their family. They miss you. I miss you.

The dinner had been just as dull and filled with lies and platitudes as any other meal they had shared with noblemen and dignitaries over the last handful of years in Essos. Illyrio was very self-assured and tried to tell Y/N that he wanted to see a Targaryen on the throne of Westeros again. “It is better for business, you see. This whole Rebellion has greatly affected my profits.”

“And that is all you care for? Profits?”

Illyrio’s smile was slimy but Y/N curled her fingers into the loose silk of her skirts to avoid reaching for the knife balanced on the edge of her plate. It would not do for her to threaten a(nother) host. “I would not be opposed to being raised to the Master of Coin when the rightful heir takes his place on the throne. It was nasty business what happened to that Dornish Princess.”

“Her name was Elia,” Y/N ground out.

“But I do suppose she served her purpose, bringing these beautiful children into the world.”

Y/N let go of her skirts and reached up to touch the knife. If he said another word, it was going into his eye and she would just steal everything she could hold. Perhaps that was a better plan than listening to him talk anyway. She glanced to her left to see Rhaenys looking down at her lap, little hands folded over her skirt. Hearing anything about her mother usually made her grow quiet and sad. Y/N, not even thinking of what it meant, moved her hand from the knife to cover Rhaenys’ hands. Providing comfort instead of violence.

(Mayhaps that could still come later.)

Rhaenys looked up at her and gave her a small smile, followed quickly by three squeezes to her fingers, a silent signal they had developed over the years to let the other know they were well.

“I swear it, your grace,” Illyrio said, staring at Aegon, another slimy smile on his face. “I will see you on your throne. You shall be king.”

“He is a child,” Y/N bit out. “Do not push him for something he cannot be sure he wants.” Aegon was barely speaking in full sentences that made sense, how could he know if he wanted some stupid crown? Just last night, Rhaenys had pulled her featherbed into her brothers’ rooms to sleep near them because they would not calm down until she was near them. He was a child. Born to royalty, yes, but a child still.

Illyrio laughed, a grating sound that had Rhaenys tightening her grip on her hand. “Of course, but you must teach him his responsibility. In secret, I know the highborn of Westeros are toasting to your survival, stitching dragons into their tapestries, and will come to your aid when you call for banners.”

That would have been a nice thought if anyone knew he was alive. Oberyn and Doran both had told her that most spoke of how they ‘knew’ Rhaenys and Aegon had been killed when the Lannisters sacked King’s Landing—and some others ‘knew’ that Lady Lyanna and her unborn babe had both died at the Tower of Joy before the end of the Rebellion. “I’ve been more preoccupied with keeping him breathing.”

“I don’t wan’ be king.”

Everyone turned to look at Aegon who seemed near tears.

“What, little one?” Y/N asked as she pulled him into her lap. His hand instantly grabbed at the necklace and he pressed his face into her shoulder.

“No king.” He sniffled and shook his head. “Rhaenee is king.”

The magistrate guffawed and Y/N once again looked at the knife. She could do it. “You will be king.” His smile did not falter. “But I do have gifts for you all.” Illyrio, unaware of how close he had come to death, waved a hand and a servant quickly came and placed a large chest on the table, rattling the cutlery and plates.

Jon startled in his little raised chair at her side but Rhaenys was immediately intrigued, even as she reached out to calm Jon with a gentle hand to his back. The lid opened and…

It was a…rock. A pretty rock, but a rock. It was a smoke color with ripples of orange and yellow. Illyrio waved a hand again, indicating she was allowed to grasp it, and she did as Aegon continued to press against her chest. It was heavier than she thought it would be and a little cold to the touch. Her eyes drifted to the small stack of gold also in the chest.

“What am I to do with this rock?” Y/N held the thing aloft with an arched eyebrow, holding back the sneer she felt growing. “Should I crack it open? Will it give me the ability to breathe life into my dearest friend’s lungs again? Will I be able to kill the usurper on the Iron Throne from across the Narrow Sea?”

“It is a dragon egg, my lady,” Illyrio said, enunciating each syllable as if that would help her understand. “Extremely valuable.”

Y/N turned and handed Rhaenys the egg, watching her little fingers curl around it immediately. She reached out and scooped out the gold and stood. The three children quickly did the same, little Aegon still in her arms and Rhaenys grabbing Jon from his chair. “I thank you for your time and meal, Magistrate. I shall think on your offer.”

Illyrio hurried to stand as well. “Yes, as their regent, I do value your opinion-”

But they were already turned away and walking out the door.

Lord Willas- I wish I could show you the gardens of Volantis. I am sure they pale in comparison to Highgarden, but they are lovely even if the people and customs are intolerable. The dried petals you hid in the folds of your last missive were a welcome surprise—a merchant woman insisted I have them turned into a perfume and it is a delightful scent. I can almost imagine the green grass and pink roses you have told me about so many times. I hope I will be able to see them soon. The air here is so heavy, it gets hard to breathe. Aegon and Jon do enjoy the elephants that the noblemen insist we ride everywhere. My sunshine likes to steer the large animal when the streets are clear, too. But please, tell me more of your home. Has your father filled the aviary with more hawks? Are the pups growing strong?

Y/N pulled the sword out of the back of the last man, listening to him gurgle on his own blood before he dropped to the worn wooden planks of the dock. Two more bodies were half submerged in the water a few paces back.

Volantis had turned on them, too. But the gold she had taken from the bodies of the would-be kidnappers (or assassins, she had not stopped to ask) would give them a little more cushion when they arrived in Lorath.

“Y/N?” Rhaenys called out from her hiding spot on the small ship docked just behind her. Her head appeared over the railing of the boat as Y/N wiped the blood off her sword onto her breeches before placing it back in its scabbard. “Did you get the pomegranates?”

Y/N turned and shuffled back a few steps to pick up the large bag she had dropped in the scuffle and held it up with a smile, ignoring how she could feel blood drying on her face. “I did, sunshine!”

Little Shark- Ellaria has been insistent that I introduce you as soon as we are able. I believe you would make dangerous friends. Lorath may not be the most exciting of places to hide, but I know you and the little ones will be safe. My family owes you a great debt. Doran has had to stop me from loading up my family and sailing to wherever you have landed. I have dreamt of you, little shark. I remember how you would smile and laugh. I remember how the scent of the sea seemed to be pressed into your skin. All of this has haunted me. You have haunted me.

Rhaenys was fond of just holding the silly little dragon egg and seemed to find a strange comfort by simply being near it, even as the years continued to trickle by and the stone egg was unchanged. “It feels warm, does it not?” She asked, holding out the egg toward Y/N.

But it did not feel warm to Y/N as she brushed her fingers against the strange orange ripples. It felt like cold rock. “Maybe I do not have the magic touch,” she said with a wink.

“Rhaenys!” They both turned at the shout of her name. Aegon and Jon, now seven and eight, rushed toward them. Little wooden swords clutched in their hands and their trousers covered in dirt. She had left them, only momentarily, to whack at each other in their garden.

Rhaenys was nearly bowled over by her brothers as they leapt at her and she tried to catch them, always protective. “What troubles you?” She asked as she managed to right them, batting away their swords as they absentmindedly still held them pointed up, ready to spar, while still holding onto her precious dragon egg.

“There is a strange man at the door.”

Ice went down Y/N’s spine and she hurried to push the children toward the back of the room, hiding them away in the back of the wardrobe. She handed Rhaenys a blade of her own, barely larger than the girl’s hand. “Remember what I taught you, sunshine?”

“Eyes, throat, thigh,” Rhaenys said, voice shaking just the slightest bit.

“Yes. And do not come out until I come for you.” She kissed each of them on the forehead and shut the door quietly, hoping against hope that it would not be the last time she would see them. But she steeled herself and patted at her breeches, feeling the four hidden blades there, and then the other four hidden in her tunic. She would fight. She would fight until her last breath.

Slowly but with her head held high, Y/N made her way toward the door and braced for the worst—a haggard Westerosi knight in search of gold and glory. A Braavosi bravo who wanted adventure across the Narrow Sea. A Sorrowful Man. A Faceless Man.

She peeked outside the window nearest the door and frowned. The man standing outside looked familiar and the longer she stared at him, the more she realized she knew him. A knight who had stuck to the Mad King’s side every time she had been forced to go to the Red Keep.

A Targaryen loyalist.

Maybe.

Slowly, she opened the door and stared at him. Willem Darry looked haggard—near death. He smelt like it, too.

“I have been searching for you,” he said, voice rough on her ears.

“What do you want, Darry?”

“I know that you have the little dragons.”

“You are mistaken.” Her hand started to inch toward the knife she had at her back. She could kill him. It could be quick and most people would not bat an eye at a bit of spilled blood. She needed to keep the children safe.

“I’m not. Queen Rhaella told me of a missive Elia wrote to her brother before the Sack of King’s Landing.”

Her hand curled around the hilt. “I know of no such letter.”

“I do not care of what you do or do not know. I am here because I need you. They need you.” He turned and called out for something—she did not care to listen. But the gate at the edge of her property opened and she felt her heart clench. Behind him stood little Viserys Targaryen and his sister, Daenerys.

Her grasp loosened. “Oh.”

My lady Y/N, Braavos sounds wondrous. I must admit that learning you have found two more dragons was a welcome surprise. It seems you collect them now. Prince Oberyn has been adamant that I visit the palace of Sunspear but I am afraid I will only embarrass myself further. The Usurper has started having a brood of his own. He grows more complacent by the day. Mayhaps I will be able to come to you someday soon. Your letters have become a most cherished treasure to me—even if my little sister Margaery does try to read them over my shoulder at every opportunity. I wish I could tell her about you, about how brave and beautiful you are. But I have promised Prince Oberyn to keep you a secret. And my secret you shall be.

Ser Willem Darry quickly moved Y/N and the children into his house. It was larger, equipped with better possible hiding places, and seemed to blend into the background of their particular road, hard to pick it out from its neighbors, aside from the red door. Darry made the servants aware that these four new faces were to be obeyed just as he was. He was a bear of a man, but gentle.

Rhaenys and Daenerys were thick as thieves, the older of the two quickly schooling the young girl in all things a good, highborn lady should know, and several more things a lady should not. More often than not, Y/N would find them practicing with bits of sharpened wood, stabbing the air with clumsy grips which Willem tried to rectify to the girls’ delights. Viserys had caught them once or twice and had snapped the bits of wood in two and dragged Daenerys away by the end of her silver braid until Y/N stepped in and made him practice his calligraphy until the sun set as punishment for making the girls cry. He was a terrible child, always holding his nose too high in the air and telling Aegon and Jon that he was king because his mother had crowned him at Dragonstone before she died.

“She only did that because she thought Aegon was dead or would be soon,” Rhaenys said, fire in her eyes.

“I don’t want to be king anyway!” Aegon would always shout from the next room over.

It was best to keep them separated.

My Prince- I am tired. And I must apologize for the tone of this letter. But Ser Willem is not long for this world, his stomach grows more troublesome for him by the day, and Viserys has been burning letters he will snatch from my hands, not allowing me to know their contents. Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon are still flourishing in Braavos, however. They have asked that I send you this small wooden snake—and you know I am unable to tell them no when they ask so sweetly. Rhaenys has insisted that she read the books you have sent to her brothers and little Daenerys. I had to keep Viserys from stealing the book from her hands more than once. He is a terrible young man. If Aegon were not so attached to him, I might not be so protective of him. But I would not do anything which would bring a frown to Aegon’s face. He has also taken to dyeing his hair blue, to better blend with the Braavosi crowd, letting any passersby think he is just a Tyroshi boy. He is so smart, my prince. He and Rhaenys—and Jon, too, when he is not sulking—are growing to be true heirs to their throne. I hope you will be able to see them soon, just as I hope to meet your daughters and Ellaria. Lord Willas has told me that you are quite the doting father. I miss you.

Aegon and Jon grew stronger and more adventurous with each passing moon while Viserys did try to seem like his nephews’ company and would tell them stories of court life in Westeros, of how Rhaegar was a valiant knight, and how King Aerys was loved by the people.

Y/N had been quick to tell them the truth as she tucked them into bed each night but that did not stop the boys from wanting the older boy’s attention when Ser Willem was deemed ‘un-fun’ when he tired so quickly.

That sentiment quickly soured in their little mouths when Y/N had to explain that Willem had joined their mothers in the Seven Heavens and would not be…around anymore.

“Just say it, he’s dead,” Viserys commanded with an upturned lip.

“You might be crass, Viserys, but that does not mean I need be, too.”

“Why not? Your pathetic little kingdom would not stand under the might of the Seven Kingdoms. That is why you’ve run-”

“Will you braid my hair?” Daenerys’ soft voice cut the tension and Y/N happily turned to look at the youngest dragon.

“Of course, Dany. Go grab your brush.”

“I have a ribbon you can use,” Rhaenys said with a small smile. She reached out a hand toward the younger girl who happily took it.

As Daenerys scurried away, Viserys shot Y/N another glare before marching off. Jon had been watching the entire exchange with his usual pout and Aegon was looking between Y/N and the door where Viserys had disappeared as he fiddled with the pommel of his practice sword.

“I do not understand his dislike of you,” Aegon said.

“He doesn’t like that he is second best,” Jon said. “Or third.”

Y/N snorted and shook her head. “Have you two finished your Valyrian lines?”

Aegon and Jon looked at each other and then darted from the room without a look back, as Y/N knew they would. Daenerys came back in with a smile, her brush, and the bit of ribbon Rhaenys had leant her in her hands. Y/N sat behind Daenerys and carefully brushed her hair. Daenerys seemed to preen under the touch, much like Rhaenys did when she was her age, happy to feel friendly fingers taking care with her hair. She plaited it and tied it off with the purple ribbon, knowing it would probably be a mess by the time dinner was served.

“You will not leave us. Not like Ser Willem, right?” The little princess asked as she turned to look up at her.

Y/N pressed a smile to her face and bit back the words she felt bubbling at the back of her throat. How could she tell a heartbroken little girl that she could not decide when she left this world? She traced a finger down Daenerys’ cheek before gently cupping her chin in her hand. “I promise I will be at your side for as long as I am able, princess.”

Daenerys paused, violet eyes searching her face for answers before nodding. “What are we having for supper?”

My Prince- Thank you for the wonderful gifts for Rhaenys’ ten-and-four nameday. I cannot believe she is almost a woman grown. I cannot believe it has been so long since I have seen you, so long since my flight from Dragonstone. How fares little Dorea? Has she recovered from her sickness? And what of Sarella? Is she still masquerading in the Citadel? She truly is your daughter. Please give Ellaria my love and I will give Aegon, Jon, and Rhaenys yours.

It had been quite a few years since she had heard Rhaenys wake herself up in a fit. Y/N quietly padded over to her room and let herself in, seeing the princess sit in a mess of blankets, a hand on her chest, obviously trying to slow her racing heart. Y/N stepped inside as Rhaenys spotted her sat on the edge of the bed and smiled as Rhaenys quickly swirled around on the blankets to place her head on Y/N’s lap. Her fingers reached up and tangled with her necklace, thumb brushing against the sun pendant as she had done hundreds of times before.

“What troubles you, sunshine? Let me help you.” She curled her hands over Rhaenys’ shoulders and side, cradling her just a bit—like she did when she was a small child. “The nightmares have come back.” She did not look up at her, only keeping her focus on the metal sun.

“Tell me what you see.”

Rhaenys sighed. “You’ll think me foolish.”

“Never.”

“There are ice dragons—bigger than castles, bigger than mountains. They come from the cold and have riders made of snow on their backs and swords made of ice, too.” She shivered and her hand dropped from Y/N’s necklace and she curled further into Y/N’s grasp. “The dead walk with them.”

“The dead?” Y/N asked, her face scrunching in confusion.

“They follow them, mindlessly. Like they have no control.”

Y/N pulled Rhaenys a little closer, feeling something cold trace its finger down her spine. “You’ve been dreaming of the cold since you were a child.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before finally looking up at her. “I don’t think they’re dreams.”

And that gave Y/N pause. She had read about Daenys the Dreamer who saved her family from the Doom. She had read how the priests and priestesses of the Mother Rhoyne were gifted with visions of things not yet come to pass. “You have been seeing this since you were a babe, sunshine. Tell me. Tell me what you think it is.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before sighing. “I’ve read the book of legends Uncle Oberyn has sent. Of the Rhoynar, of my mother’s people. It said that some were gifted with something called the Sight. The ability to see things as they happen from across the world, or things not yet come to pass.”

“Like the Dragon Dreams of the Valyrians.”

Rhaenys nodded and finally dropped her hold on the necklace.

“And you think that this cold, these beings, are coming?”

“I know it sounds like nonsense-”

“Almost every country in this world has legends of a night which lasted generations, of cold which reached across the seas. And history repeats itself, my sunshine. It is possible that you have always had the Sight. Do not discount yourself.”

Rhaenys looked up at her, dark eyes shining in the moonlight. “Then I am seeing what is to come?”

Y/N pulled her a little closer. “It is possible. But magic has been gone from the world a long time.”

“But if the cold can come again, magic can as well.”

Y/N nodded. “And I shall be here with you if it does.”

“My father,” Rhaenys grumbled the title, “was fond of prophecy, was he not? The Targaryens always said ‘the Dragon has three heads’ or something like that.”

“Why can there not be four?” She sighed. “Or five. Would not more be better? Surely there is still strength in numbers. And we shall need all the strength we can muster.”

Rhaenys opened her mouth to say something when the door burst open. On instinct, Y/N grabbed the knife she’d hidden in her sleeve and hurled it at the intruder. It missed Jon’s head by pure luck. He only glanced at the blade once before turning back to them. “Something’s happened.”

Y/N stood from the bed with Rhaenys at her side and they ran through the manse, following Jon’s steps but their haste did not change the outcome. Viserys and Daenerys were gone.

Lady Y/N- Thank you for the information you have discovered about from the Iron Bank. It is most welcome and has helped us continue to truly know how poorly and precariously the Usurper is sitting on his stolen throne. If you discover anything else, I would be grateful. Please give the young ones my love. -Prince Doran, Lord of Sunspear

“Again,” Y/N said, standing on the edge of the stone platform.

Aegon and Jon both groaned but Rhaenys held up her sword, ready for the next drill to be called out.

They had been training since the sun came up. While the breeze off the water kept them cool, sweat still poured down their necks to wet their tunics. It was a familiar sight—Y/N could remember her own time in Skilliga’s training rooms when she was younger than them.

It felt like ages ago.

She called out the next set of drills and watched as they worked through the steps, each with a bit of room for improvement, but not entirely terrible. As they worked through another set, and then another, Y/N reached for her own wooden sword and leapt up onto the platform as they caught their breath. Perhaps it was time for only one more exercise.

“If you each manage to land a blow, we can call it for the day, hm? I’ll even have honeywine brought in.”

The siblings looked at each other, a silent conversation, before they all turned like a three-headed beast and raised their swords and charged.

When it was all finished—Y/N had only two more sore spots on her arms but she still had honeywine and let them drink the entire bottle themselves. They had earned it. The manse grew quiet after their small celebration and Y/N sat in her room and listened to the sea beat against the city’s walls as she ran a cool, damp cloth across her face, trying to wash the day’s dirt and sweat away. It was strange, to know that she did not need to make sure that the three did not require a story to help them sleep. They hadn’t in several years. But she still found herself wanting to rise from her cushioned seat to check on them as the air grew still and soft.

A knock at her opened door had her turning and Rhaenys was walking into her room with her lips pulled tight. “Dany is alive.”

“How do you know this?” Y/N asked, rising from her seat. For almost a year, she had heard nothing of the two lost dragons. She knew someone had seen them, she had always known when someone was keeping a secret. But they never told. Again and again, she had thought she would learn of their deaths from a sneering nobleman or one of her missives from Westeros. But she had heard nothing.

“I’ve seen it. I’ve dreamt it.”

My Y/N, Thank you for the lace and silk. You are a generous soul; I had been searching for the right materials for my Obella’s nameday dress and your package arrived the next day. Oberyn speaks of you often, of little Aegon and Rhaenys, and Jon too. I hope to meet you soon, to finally know your face as I know your name. To know you.

It was two years later that she finally heard of where the two silver-headed dragons had gone.

The Dothraki Sea.

“Why would they go there?” Rhaenys asked with a frown.

“Viserys probably hatched some plan. Brokered a deal he did not fully understand with a man smarter than him.”

“A horse is smarter than him,” Aegon muttered. Rhaenys slapped his arm but Jon roared with laughter.

“Well, we must go to them. To Daenerys, at least,” Rhaenys said as she stood from her seat.

And that was how Y/N found herself selling most of their earthly possessions and setting out away from Braavos with an honest guide whom she trusted and paid well. (Balerion hated the wheelhouse but preferred it to being sat on Rhaenys’ lap on her horse. He curled himself around the petrified dragon egg and mostly slept through the day.)

From Braavos to Norvos and then down the banks of the Noyne to where it met the Rhoyne, the days trickled by.

For only a few hours, she let the three bask in the beauty of the ruins of Ny Sar—of the city Nymeria, their famed ancestor, had once called home—before they continued on. They could not afford to linger.

But she grew more and more fatigued with each passing day.

“What ails you?” Rhaenys asked as they stopped for the night.

“I never sleep well this far from the sea, sunshine.” She pressed a smile to her face and tugged at the silver lock of hair at Rhaenys’ nape. “I will rest when we find Daenerys and I can hear the waves crash against the shore again.”

But she asked again a few nights later as they settled again to make their small camp, quiet and hidden. They were too far south for the Pirates of Dagger Lake and too far north for the Volantene galleys to spot them, but it was still best to be cautious. Even in Skilliga, Y/N knew of the dangers of the Sorrows. And Y/N gave her answer. “We are too close to the Sorrows for me to sleep soundly, sunshine.”

They both settled on the high hill at the edge of the grasslands where it met the sparse forest, and watched the cursed fog slowly roll over the unseen waters she could only barely hear. It was strangely quiet here, in this desolate part of the world.

“This is where the Rhoynar made their last stand—before Nymeria and her ten thousand ships set sail and landed in Dorne.”

“Yes. Centuries ago, Chroyane, this was a proud and fertile land. Filled with celebrations and water magic. A place of laughter and prosperity.”

Rhaenys sighed as she looked out at the curling grey mist and barren trees. “But not now.”

“Before the Doom, when the Valyrians still ruled Essos, they tried to conquer the Rhoynar. Wars raged and, for a handful of years, the Rhoynar were able to hold the dragons off. But that did not last. In a last attempt to make the dragons rue the day they set their purple eyes on this part of the Rhoyne, Garin the Great called down a curse on the Valyrians after being captured.”

“And the waters rose and the fog rolled in, sweeping them beneath and holding them there beneath the waves for all the ages to come. The fog turned their skin to stone, matching their stone hearts and took their minds, too.” Rhaenys nodded. “I remembered that part. Mother would tell me stories of the Rhoynar when father was too busy wish his prophecies to sing me to sleep.” The young girl at her side heaved a heavy sigh as she watched the mist curl across the water. “This is my mother’s bloodline. Snuffed out by my father’s.”

Y/N huffed and knocked her shoulder against Rhaenys’. “You are not your parents. You are not some bit of rock that maesters scribble about in their chambers. You, my sunshine, are both Martell and Targaryen. You are the Sun and a Dragon. The fact that you are here means that the impossible is possible. You are water magic and fire in skin. You are the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. You are your mother’s daughter—her sunshine, my sunshine.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before she nodded and stood, sweeping her hands against her trousers to brush the dead grass from the fabric. Y/N expected her to say that she was retiring again for the night. But Rhaenys always kept Y/N on her toes.

She was suddenly sprinting down the hill toward the water and the cursed fog.

“Rhaenys?! What are you doing?”

Rhaenys would succumb to the curse, to greyscale—what was she doing?! Y/N sprinted down after her, pumping her legs faster and faster to try to catch her—but she was again too late. And she screamed as Aegon darted in after his sister.

But the fog did not engulf Rhaenys’ form. It did not choke the air from her young lungs. Instead, it curled around her ankles like Balerion had done so many times as a kitten. It was welcoming her. Welcoming her home.

For a moment, Y/N could only watch as the unnatural fog almost seemed to sparkle and shine as Rhaenys reached out her hands toward it. She knew Aegon was yelling, saying something to Rhaenys. But she couldn’t hear it. And she doubted Rhaenys could either as the fog closed around the pair.

She could only wait, with a panicked Jon at her side and a strangely calm Balerion in her arms.

“All will be well,” Y/N heard herself saying.

“Are you certain?” Jon asked in return.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

And when the sun rose in the morning, for the first time in hundreds of years, it shone on Chroyane. The fog lifted. She could see the broken yet still beautiful arches and marble columns of towering stone. Grand palaces jutting from the sparkling waters. Overgrown trees, once foreboding and covered in grey moss, had shining green leaves as large as her arm with delicate pink flowers blossoming. And it was beautiful—even with the bodies of the stone men piled, almost neatly, on the banks of the river. Finally at rest.

Y/N turned her head at the sound of splashing and saw one of the famed large turtles the Rhoyne was known for, sliding through the water, content.

In the center of the river, the water slowly moving by, stood Rhaenys and Aegon.

Jon sprinted to his siblings’ side. “What happened? What did you see?”

Rhaenys only smiled.

**

The siblings had insisted that they take a handful of days to explore the newly ‘recovered’ city. And Y/N could not tell them no—both out of familial duty and personal curiosity. While Aegon and Rhaenys traipsed through the ruins as if they had been there thousands of times before, showing Jon everything they could and telling him of the Rhoynish history, Y/N explored on her own.

The ancient scars of the last battle against the Valyrians were still seen, now dulled by the constant presence of the river water but she could see bits of armor beneath ivy and trees, sun-bleached bone where the water was shallow.

But the river was clear and cool and Y/N let it soak her breeches as she jumped from the small skiff she had found so she could look through the ruins of what appeared to be an ornate bathhouse. Mud and damp greenery sloshed underneath her boots as she walked through, trying to envision what this place looked like before the war and curse. But even now, it was beautiful.

Something clanged against her boot and she looked down to see an edge of a sword. Y/N frowned as she pulled the sword from the muck and wiped it clean on her already-disgusting trousers. The pommel had a head of lion and was inlaid with fine rubies and gold. The blade was long—too long to be wielded by one hand as she had trained to do—but it was far too light to be common steel. Y/N held up the blade to let it reflect the sun and saw the swirling patterns as her heart leapt into her throat.

This was Valyrian steel.

She spent the next handful of hours combing through the mounds of debris on the edges of the river, making sure to listen for where her three charges were and to know that they were safe, and collecting any bits of Valyrian steel—armor or weapons—she could find. And if she had to shake a few bones loose from it? That did not matter. This was not supposed to be the resting place of the dragonriders. This was not their land. So, she supposed that the Valyrians’ former belongings were free game.

They would catch a fine price anyway.

Balerion was perched on a moss-covered rock, watching another large turtle and probably mulling over if the creature was friend, foe, or food.

But Rhaenys eventually pulled her brothers from the ruins and said it was time to move on—“we will come back. I’m sure of it.” And no one argued with her on that, or asked how she knew. They all knew to simply trust her.

The wetlands of the Rhoyne gave way to the grass of the Dothraki Sea and their guide promised that he knew the fastest way to Vaes Dothrak, the one true Dothraki settlement where Daenerys had last been seen. And his promises were kept, thankfully. Y/N was sure if anything else had caught her off guard, she would have fallen off her horse and never risen again. She was so far from the sea. She could hear no river or ocean. No water.

The heat was nearly unbearable. She had nearly thrown herself from the saddle when the seventy-sixth bead of sweat trailed its way down her neck to pool in the back of her tunic. But Rhaenys remained ever positive.

“We are nearly there, I can feel it.”

Even when they learned that Daenerys and what was left of her husband’s khalasar had left Vaes Dothrak and started toward Lhazar, she still voiced her positive outlook.

And it paid off. As Y/N knew it would—eventually.

As the sun set on the fourth day after leaving Vaes Dothrak, they spotted the remnants of a khalasar surrounding what looked like a giant funeral pyre as a red comet bled across the dark night sky. Y/N slowed her horse to a stop and dismounted as she squinted toward the group, trying to find Daenerys. The silver hair quickly stood out and she felt her heart lift, unweighted for the first time since they had left the Chroyane. But it suddenly tumbled down to her stomach as she watched Daenerys light the fire and then edged closer to the heat.

“Daenerys? Dany!”

But the girl did not hear her. Did not turn. Did not blink as she stepped into the flames.

Y/N ran toward the fire but was held back by a strange man—Y/N barely registered that he was not Dothraki—who muttered something about not needing more death tonight.

Sudden movement at her side had Y/N turning and she could not stomach the cry that ripped its way from her throat.

“Rhaenys? What are you—Rhaenys!” She screamed and screamed and leapt toward her only to be too late—again—to stop the carnage. That was her curse.

Rhaenys stepped into the funeral pyre, the egg she had treasured for years held out in front of her like an offering.

Aegon and Jon were screaming for her, for Dany, to come out—come out of the flames and we can go home! We can go home!

But the pair of girls did not. They did not emerge from the flames. Around the large funeral pyre, the remnants of the Dothraki khalasar moved to their knees, watching at the fire burned higher and hotter. And all Y/N could do was watch.

She had failed. She had failed and she didn’t know why. Why did the girls walk into the fire, so sure of their fates? Why did they welcome it with open arms? Why? Y/N sank to her knees and wept. She cried for the first time since Arthur had died at her feet, wept even as the heat from the pyre drenched her in sweat. She had failed.

By the time the sun rose and smoke dissipated, she was certain she would be staring at the bodies of her two girls and once again facing immeasurable loss and now having to handle her boys’ own anger and sadness.

But then she felt her heart leap into her throat.

Surrounded by ash and soot, were Daenerys and Rhaenys. Unharmed. Unburnt. Alive.

And four baby dragons.

“Oh.”

The remaining onlookers yelled out something in their language, hands raised toward Rhaenys and Daenerys.

Blood of their blood.

Y/N, Aegon, and Jon stepped over the piles of ash and still burning embers and toward the two women, naked, and covered in soot—but smiling. Y/N pulled off her overtunic and wrapped it around Rhaenys’ shoulders as Aegon draped his cloak around Daenerys.

“I saw you come again.” Daenerys reached out and grasped at Rhaenys’ hands and the young women cried. “I saw you.”

“I saw you, too,” Rhaenys whispered before shaking her hands free of Daenerys’ grip only to wrap her arms around her aunt in a tight embrace. “How could he hurt you so? You did not deserve to be treated like that.”

Y/N watched Daenerys’ brows furrow over Rhaenys’ shoulder. “What did you see?”

But the answer would have to wait as Aegon and Jon, tired of waiting, all but threw themselves at the pair, and berated them for their actions but thanked them both for surviving.

“I don’t know what we would do without you,” Aegon murmured.

Y/N sighed as she watched them, watched the small group cry and laugh and smile. Aegon did not know how true that statement was—and she hoped he would never know what the world would be like without his sister and aunt.

Rhaenys stepped away from her brother from a moment and held out a soot-covered hand toward her, urging her forward. And Y/N quickly took it, not minding the strange heat. The yellow and gold dragon hatchling on Rhaenys’ shoulder chirped as Y/N stepped closer. Its little neck craned as she kissed Rhaenys’ forehead, trying to see what Y/N was doing to their mother.

“Never do that again, my sunshine.”

**

There had been a bit of an argument between Daenerys and her guard—Jorah Mormont, Y/N had learned what his name was—and Rhaenys and her brothers as to where they would go next. They could not stay in the Dothraki Sea. The other khalasars were still a threat.

Jorah suggested Asshai-by-the-shadow.

Their guide suggested traveling back to Norvos—and when that was turned down, he took his payment and left. “You will die out here,” was all he said. Charming.

But Daenerys, watching the red comet still bleed across the crystal-blue sky had a different destination in mind. “What is that way?” She asked, finger pointing toward where the comet was flying.

“Qarth, khaleesi. The Queen of cities.”

Daenerys smiled at the sound of it. “We shall go to Qarth.” She turned and looked at Rhaenys who nodded, both of them unperturbed by the dragons using their limbs like a crib. Aegon and Jon were both looking at the pair of young women with awe and almost-smug knowing on their faces. Like they had predicted this very sight. And mayhaps they did.

Magic had come back into the world. With water and fog and fire and dragons.

It had come back.

**

My dear Willas- I am not sure if Qarth is to my taste. I do not like how these merchants ‘princes’ and warlocks stare at my charges and their dragons. I do not like how they lathe attention and treasures on the children…young adults, I suppose. I know that these people, man, woman, whomever, they only mean to get their hands on the dragons. And Balerion truly poses more of a threat than the dragons do—and the cat is getting old, he is still something to behold, but his paws move slower now. The hatchlings are defenseless little things even if they are starting to learn how to breathe fire. But I suppose the comforts of this famed city are better than the alternative of getting lost in the Red Waste. But still…I could hear the whispers and feel the people of Qarth all around us. Even our host, Xaro Xhoan Daxos, who had been the first to welcome us into the walled city and has given us an entire wing to call home in his immense estate—I cannot trust him. There is a Shadowbinder here who seems to appear at all hours of the night and day, speaking in whispers and vague prophecy. Truthfully, if she spoke plainly I might actually like her. But enough of that! What news do you have from Westeros? The new set of hounds—are they still growing strong?

For now, in this strange city, they were comfortable. She could hear the four laugh and see them smile. Daenerys told them of her time at Viserys’ side, told them of how her brother had told her that Y/N and Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon no longer wanted the pair at their side. She told them of how they had become wards of Illyrio Mopatis who had promised to help them retake the Seven Kingdoms—a familiar promise. He had brokered a deal with Khal Drogo, all but selling Daenerys to the khal in exchange for the large khalasar who was supposed to help Viserys reclaim the Iron Throne. It churned her stomach, it hurt her heart. “You know that you are family,” Y/N had said. “You are always welcome, always loved.” And that gave rise to the question: did any of them actually want the Iron Throne?

And the answer, unsurprisingly, was complicated.

Aegon and Jon wanted to stop running. Daenerys wanted a place to call home, truly. And Rhaenys, her sunshine, revealed her steel core. Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before she stood and set her shoulders back. “Westeros will be mine. It will be mine as it should have been my father’s. As it should have belonged to my mother. The usurper and the lions stole it from her and I will wash them from this earth. I want it. The Seven Kingdoms belong to me—and I will have them.”

Y/N nodded. “You will, sunshine. I promise you that. You are the eldest. By Dornish right and custom, it belongs to you.” Y/N reached out and curled her finger around the silver strand at her ear, and she was suddenly so aware that Rhaenys was growing up. She looked so much like Elia. Where had the time gone? Her hand dropped back to her side. “You will be queen.”

“Y/N!”

She turned at sound of her name and saw Rhaenys walking toward her, draped in a silken Qartheen dress, and her little yellow dragon in her arms. She had named her Vēzos—it meant Sun in High Valyrian. She knew what Rhaenys meant when she had named her dragon. Elia was the Sun of Dorne. Rhaenys had been her sunshine. And now Rhaenys had a sun of her own. Beautiful and terrible and all hers. Y/N could not be more proud. “You are up early, my sunshine. Your brothers and aunt are still resting like the dead.” Last night a grand reception had been held by their host, filling his gardens with all the elite of the city. The Pureborn, the Thirteen, Warlocks—all of them, had descended on the lush grounds and had their fill of fine wood and drink while whispering about the ‘uncivilized’ Dothraki and stealing glances at the dragons while trying to make conversation with the four guests of honor.

It had been exhausting. Most of the party had been spent with Ser Jorah, trying to keep the Dothraki from pilfering anything worth value or Balerion from destorying the guests' fine dresses. Truthfully, Y/N wouldn’t’ve cared but Daenerys said it would not be kind to their host. Oh well.

“They drank much more than me,” Rhaenys said with a smile. Y/N patted the cushioned seat next to her but Rhaenys shook her head. “I have something to show you.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow but stood and followed Rhaenys out of Xaro’s manse, grabbing one of her swords on the way out and sliding it into the belt at her waist. The city was still sleeping and strangely quiet—quiet enough that Y/N could hear the ocean. The port of Qarth was one of the great ports of the known world and Y/N had grown up hearing of the treasure her parents had once plundered from the Jade Gates—it had been the trip they had taken just after they were married. Strangely romantic. The port was a little busier than the quiet of the city and Y/N stepped closer to Rhaenys as they neared the unfamiliar crowd. But, Rhaenys paid no one any mind until she spotted a man with a plumed hat who bowed when she stepped toward him.

“Right on time, Princess! Are you ready?”

Y/N had barely any time to ask what was going on before Rhaenys took her by the hand and ushered her onto the Swan Ship and it pulled away from the port. “Are you kidnapping me, sunshine?” She asked with a laugh.

“Only for a few hours.”

The ship made quick work of sailing through the Jade Gates and toward the East of Essos. And while the sun grew higher in the sky, Rhaenys steadfastly evaded any questions Y/N posed about their destination and she only grew more confused when the ship slowly stopped, rocking in time with the quiet waves—no land in sight.

And Rhaenys’ smile only widened. “Welcome to the Jade Sea.”

Y/N had to laugh and little Vēzos chirped at the noise. “Oh, sunshine. You never fail to surprise me.”

“My ladies!” The captain called out from behind the helm. “We only have a few moments before the Qartheen galleys stop us for taxes—I recommend you make the most of it.”

And that was how Y/N found herself diving off the side of the ship into the cool waters, uncaring that she had left her only weapon on the deck of the boat. Rhaenys was next to her, the folds of her dress floating around her like a sparkling sea creature. And little Vēzos, still unable to fly just yet, had taken to the water too, strangely enough. She flitted around the pair, yellow wings keeping her afloat.

This was paradise.

**

Oberyn- I cannot believe little Dorea has celebrated another nameday. It feels like yesterday you have told me of her coming into this world. Did she like the little jade sun we sent? Aegon had it commissioned at the market here in Qarth. The deal between the Pureborn and our little band of Dothraki and displaced regents is nearly solidified. We will have nearly twenty galleys with the small mountain of Valyrian steel we had reclaimed from the Rhoyne. (I, of course, have hidden several bits of armor and the lion-headed sword, and a few other weapons I had found, outside the city. Just in case. I am saving a spearhead I have found for you. I do hope you like it.) But it does seem like the deal is taking longer than I had ever anticipated. Or perhaps I should have anticipated it—the Pureborn, the warlocks, no one wants Valyrian steel. Not when dragons have come again. For now, everyone is safe. Thriving. I know you weren’t particularly keen on any of the names chosen for the hatchlings but I am still mostly unable to tell them no when they ask so sweetly. Drogon does seem to be the largest still, followed by Vēzos, then Aegon’s Viserion, and Jon’s little Rhaegal is still…little. Mayhaps that is a cosmic joke. But you should see them when they are all together. There is something magical there, powerful. The sun shines brightly on all of them. I am so proud. Please give Ellaria my love.

On the end of the fourth moon of their time in the city, the woman in the lacquered mask, the Shadowbinder Quaithe who still did not speak plainly no matter how much they insisted, appeared again in their rooms.

“You have not left the city, dragonriders.”

Y/N drew her sword but the masked woman did not flinch.

“What do you want?” Aegon asked.

“I have told you. You did not listen. Soon, you will not be permitted to leave the city. You all must learn the truth. And you must-”

“Pass beneath the Shadow,” Jon finished, obviously having heard the request before. “There is nothing for us in Asshai. Truth or otherwise.”

“You will learn.” The woman paused. “Do not trust the whisper.” And then she vanished, as if conjured by shadows herself and the door to their chambers burst open and the small khalasar filled in, shouting something in their language Y/N was still learning—but she caught “dragons” and “gone.” And that was all she needed. And her four charges all let out screams of anguish, as if they had lost limbs with the news. Perhaps that is what it felt like.

They all poured out of their temporary home and into the garden, past the dead bodies of a handful of Daenerys’ handmaidens, to see Pyat Pree and Xaro waiting for them. Y/N would not be able to recall anything they said, only the gist.

The other warlocks had stolen the dragons, seeking power. Xaro and Pyat Pree would lead the four (Aegon, Jon, Rhaenys, and Daenerys) to the House of the Undying, the warlocks’ seat of power in Qarth, where they were holding the hatchlings. In exchange, the two wanted Daenerys and her khalasar to help them establish a ‘new order’ in Qarth. They wanted to be kings.

In short, Daenerys agreed. She wanted nothing more than the hatchlings back and her niece and nephews happy again. But there were, of course, conditions. Only the four could go.

“This is ridiculous,” Y/N muttered.

But the four wanted to go, feeling the need—no matter how unsafe—to be near the hatchling that had chosen them.

“At least take a knife,” she said, pressing one of the (many) daggers she had into each of their hands when Xaro and Pyat had turned their backs. And that was all she could do. They would not be argued with. Y/N could only wish that she had been left in better company than Ser Jorah Mormont who seemed to be already in love with Daenerys. She did not like it. But she knew she could not always fight every battle for them, even if she wished she could, even if she wished she could shoulder the burden she knew they felt on their too-young shoulders. Their heartbreak, their anger, it was hers, too. And she would do anything she could to help make them smile again. And now? It seemed that meant waiting.

As the sun rose in the sky and then set and the moon soon followed, Y/N had not moved from the seat she had taken on the steps leading inside. Jorah had spoken to her, about his life in Westeros but she did not particularly care. He seemed to have received a lenient sentence for his crimes. But he had been proven loyal to Daenerys while Viserys had traded her to Drogo. An ally was an ally. Sending him away when they had so few this side of the Narrow Sea would be unwise.

Smoke rising on the horizon made her finally move from her seat.

But then the gate opened again and Rhaenys, Aegon, Jon, and Daenerys came rushing back, each with their hatchling carefully held in their grasps.

“We must go! Now!” Daenerys said—she quickly said it again in Dothraki and the assembled khalasar splintered, quickly picking up anything worth value as they moved.

“Khaleesi? What happened?”

Daenerys did not answer—but Jon did. “It was a trap. We’ve killed them. We must leave.”

“Where are we going?” Y/N had to ask, following them back inside to gather her things and to help pilfer.

“We will figure it out later! We must go!”

With a sword in one hand and a golden candelabra in the other, Y/N felt a chill slide down her spine and she turned to see Quaithe again. The woman simply stared at her, unmoving for a heartbeat or two, and then she slithered from the shadows. “You are their shadow, my lady. The sharp shadow. A shark with dark teeth.”

“That is not helpful!” Y/N hissed in return.

“You will learn. Just as they have—they listened. They did not trust the whisper they heard.”

“Y/N! We must go!”

She turned at the sound of the outburst to see Aegon, arms full of sacks filled with thieved treasures and Viserion on his shoulder. When she turned back to Quaithe, she was gone. Again. Y/N pushed out a sigh and turned, dashing out of the manse and not looking back. They only stopped for a moment for Y/N to dig up her buried treasure.

“You could not help yourself, could you?”

“Now is not the time, Jon.”

When they reached the port, she could already hear the screams coming from the city. Whatever had transpired at the House of the Undying was clearly more than anyone could have anticipated. Some of the Valyrian steel they had meant to sell to the Pureborn was handed over to a captain of a large ship—large enough for them and the small khalasar—and fast enough, too. Quickly, she bought a bit of ink and parchment from a vendor who seemed nonplussed at all the commotion.

She needed help.

She needed Oberyn. She needed Willas.

I do not know where we are going after Qarth, I only know that both Rhaenys and Daenerys seem to be answering a call I cannot hear. Aegon and Jon follow where they lead. Toward destiny or ruin or both, I do not know. But I do know that I cannot do this without you. I cannot guide them without you. I need you. Please.

She wrote a few lines more on each of them, asking them to bring who they wanted, pleading with Oberyn to bring Ellaria, asking Willas to continue to write to her if he could not or would not come. All of it. For the first time in over a decade, she prayed to any of the deities she could remember as she signed her name. She shoved the pair of missives into a familiar captain’s hands along with a small sack of gold and told him where to have them sent as their small group boarded the boat. All she could do was hope.

**

Astapor would not have been her first choice.

It would not have been her fifteenth choice. But Jorah had convinced Daenerys that they needed an army, a true army, not the small khalasar that they currently had. The famed Unsullied of Astapor could provide that…supposedly.

But there was a certain set to her jaw, and an unspoken look between Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon that had Y/N thinking they all had ulterior motives. She had seen that same look between Ellia and Oberyn years ago, a silent conversation only they would understand. While it made her sad, it also made her hopeful. Hopeful for a future where they could all love and care for each other without fear.

Fear. A terrible thing.

Another reason why Astapor would have been avoided if she had been asked. But Ser Jorah had Daenerys’ ear and had filled her mind of thoughts of Unsullied. An army made entirely of men who would follow orders without question, who were thought to not feel pain or fear.

But, Y/N found that his words had soured the more he spoke of their ‘training’ and they stepped into the red-bricked city. Daenerys grew furious when they were given a ‘taste’ of the Unsullied and the good master, a terribly mustachioed man named Kraznys, had bragged about how they did not feed them or give them water for a day and a night and they would stand guard until they dropped. ‘Such is their obedience,’ his translator, a delicately beautiful young woman from Naath named Missandei said. All of it made Y/N’s skin crawl.

“Khaleesi. The Unsullied are chosen as boys and trained-”

“I have heard and seen all I care for about their training!” Daenerys hissed before she cracked a slap across Jorah’s cheek, tears glistening in her eyes as they retired back to the manse they had ‘graciously’ been given for the night.

Y/N glanced back at Aegon and Jon who suddenly found the manse’s ceiling very interesting but Rhaenys kept her eyes firmly trained on her aunt.

Jorah clutched at his reddened cheek. “If I have displeased my queen-”

“You have displeased me greatly, Ser. If you were my true knight, you would never have brought me to this vile sty.” Daenerys’ bottom lip trembled as if she wanted to say more but she kept quiet and turned to Y/N. “We should not have come here; I am so sorry.”

Y/N shook her head and drew Daenerys into her hold. She did not have words to soothe her. What could she say? But she watched Jorah slink from the room and kissed Daenerys’ forehead as she had done hundreds of times in Braavos. Before all of this. Before dragons.

“I want to help them,” Daenerys murmured as she pulled back from Y/N’s arms. “They are people in need of help. They do not… they do not deserve this. If we are in a position of power, should we not help them?”

“Our position of power is fragile and small,” she stressed the word. “We must be smart. There are thousands of them and only a few dozen of us.”

“That has never stopped you,” Rhaenys said with a smirk that had Y/N sighing. “And there might be thousands of them but we have dragons.”

“Baby dragons,” Y/N murmured.

“But dragons all the same,” Daenerys said, reaching out to Rhaenys who quickly took her hand.

“We have been running all our lives, unsafe for who we are. Unsafe because of something we did not chose. If… if I am to be queen, I do not want to know that there are people in this world in shackles when I had the power to help them.”

Aegon and Jon stepped up, hands on their swords. “We will help you.”

Y/N nodded. “In Skilliga, all people are free—we were looked down upon because of that by the supposed Free Cities and the Valyrian Empire before the Doom. I will fight this battle beside you. As always.”

And that is how they found themselves back in the revolting company of the good master. At first, they offered the small mountain of Valyrian steel. But, just as in Qarth, the ‘good masters’ of Astapor did not want Valyrian steel. They wanted dragons. And Kraznys always posed his questions to Aegon and Jon—as if Daenerys and Rhaenys were not there at all. Missandei, however, seemed to understand immediately that it was the women who were truly steering this possible transaction.

Y/N liked Missandei.

“We will need time to think of your offer,” Aegon said as he stood from his seat. The rest of them followed suit. There was no way any of the dragons were going to be forfeited for an army, but Kraznys did not need to know that just yet.

Kraznys sneered as he looked at them and Y/N did not need Missandei to translate his next insult. And she really didn’t think ‘stupid sunset girls’ really applied to all of them. At all. But that did not matter. When they arrived at the manse and one of Daenerys’s handmaidens, a petite woman named Irri, greeted them at the door, she was speaking rapidly, and pointing toward the manse’s solar.

For a moment, Y/N had the horrible thought that the hatchlings had been stolen again but then she caught the words “sun” and “prince.” And then she and Daenerys were darting away from the group and running toward where Irri had pointed.

She could hear them before she saw them.

But she turned a corner and saw a head full of brown curls and a familiar, shining black cane and her heart leapt into her throat as he turned to face her.

“My lady-”

She threw her arms around him in a hug and held him tight. “Oh, Willas. Oh my dear, sweet Willas. You’ve come.” And she nearly wept when she felt his arms wrap around her back and squeeze, she didn’t even care that the handle of his cane was digging into her spine. She didn’t care. He was here and in her arms.

“You have not changed at all, my lady,” he murmured as he pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “Your latest letter was a…most welcome surprise.”

His warm hand gently cradled her cheek and she felt tears stinging at her eyes at the soft touch. It had been far too long since someone had touched her…at all. Especially with such care.

“I’ve missed you,” Willas whispered.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, to tell him that she had missed him more than she could have ever put into words and so she did not try, but then the rest of her brood were rushing by her and into the solar.

“Uncle Oberyn!” Rhaenys nearly wailed.

Y/N pulled back to see Rhaenys fling herself at Oberyn who was crying into her two-toned hair with a broad smile on his face. He was older now, true. But still as handsome.

Willas’s hand gently grasped hers and led her a little further into the room. “Let me introduce you to my fair traveling companions.” He smiled at her, as if feeling her sudden nerves through her hand as it clutched his. “They were kind enough to let me stowaway on their ship after we received your letters.” He laughed but then waved a hand at the woman nearest to him. She was tall with thick, wavy black hair, dotted with golden jewelry and soft yellow samite wrapped around her in a beautiful dress with a copper belt around her waist. “This is Lady Ellaria Sand.”

Ellaria was even more beautiful than Y/N could have ever imagined. She had a regal beauty and kind eyes. Her hands were soft as she reached for Y/N and she happily let the other woman pull her into her grasp in welcome. “It was kind of you to think of me.”

“I would not have Oberyn part with the love of his life,” Y/N said as she stepped back, still smelling Ellaria’s fine perfume. “It was kind of you to join us across the Narrow Sea. I hope your daughters did not mind the waves.”

Ellaria turned and smiled at the young girls who were already surrounding Aegon and Rhaenys and cooing over the still-growing hatchlings who preened with the attention. “This was their first ship ride of this length. But they are simply happy for a bit of adventure.”

Three more women were sitting with Jon and Daenerys, speaking quietly in the corner. “That is Nymeria, Obara, and Tyene,” Willas informed her in a whisper.

“Sarella is still at the Citadel?” Y/N asked.

Ellaria nodded with a chuckle. “I am sure it was a heavy decision for her. Oberyn has promised to bring her back all the relics our ship can hold.”

“And I shall deliver on that promise, will I not, my love?” Oberyn said, appearing at Ellaria’s side and kissing her slowly at the corner of her mouth before turning to Y/N. Before she could even try to think of an appropriate greeting, Oberyn reached out and his large hands were grasping at her face and he was kissing her. She was frozen, like a scared little mouse cornered by a viper. But he tasted delicious—like citrus and spice and heat. And as soon as it started, he stepped back. His smile was large, large still as he looked at her confused face. “It is good to see you, Little Shark.”

Willas’ warm hand on her back pulled Y/N back to reality before she glanced at Ellaria who only winked at her. This did nothing to ease her growing confusion but Y/N shuffled the group toward the small hall the manse provided, telling everyone to sit more comfortably instead of standing.

Oberyn told them of how the Usurper was dead and how the Seven Kingdoms had fallen into war. The War of the Five Kings they called it. “Your mother’s family,” Oberyn said as he looked at Jon, “seem to be the largest threat to the Lannisters. They have captured Jamie Lannister.”

Jon seemed pleased with that, in his own quiet way.

“Perhaps an alliance could be made,” Ellaria said. “It would be good to have a Northron ally,” She turned and smiled at Willas, “Aside from our sweet Willas and his band of fair flowers.”

Willas’ cheeks bloomed with color at Ellaria’s words. “My grandmother and I are ready whenever we are needed. Right now, we are letting Margaery play at being queen. She knows it will only be temporary, but she has been…trained by my grandmother in all the ways she knows to sway the opinion of the low and highborn. I am sure by the time we make landfall, they may be waiting for you all with open arms.”

“I do not believe it will be hard to sway them when Cersei Lannister and her little golden children are waging war and starving them,” one of the older Sand Snakes, Obara, muttered. Y/N liked Obara.

“But enough talk of Westeros! Tell us of your lives here in Essos.”

And so they did. They started from the beginning—the four of them told their family of how they jumped from city to city, evading assassins and would-lords in search of gold and glory, all while learning of their family and former homeland across the Narrow Sea. Rhaenys was nearly glowing as she recounted their time along the Rhoyne and everyone at the table seemed entranced, too, promising to see for themselves the land that had once belonged to their ancestors. And all of that led to Astapor and the possible deal with the good master.

“You cannot truly be thinking of giving him a dragon?” Tyene asked.

“I will play his game.” Daenerys slid her hand down Drogon’s neck and the ever-growing hatchling trilled as he looked at his mother, as if agreeing to what she wanted. “He will simply not know that it is my game, my rules.”

The rest of the night was spent filled with terrible Astapori wine and shared food and laughter. Y/N was yawning but smiled when she felt Willas’ fingers trace across the back of her neck as Balerion was curled contentedly on his lap beside her. He seemed to realize what he was doing and his hand snapped back to his side, disturbing the old cat who meowed, displeased, before leaping across the table to settle in Rhaenys’ hold.

“Sorry, my lady.”

But she shook her head, still smiling. “Never apologize.”

They spoke for a little longer before Dorea and Loreza started to fall asleep in their seats and Ellaria excused herself to tuck them into bed, letting Aegon lead the way to one of the guest rooms. The group dispersed, little by little, until it was only Y/N, Willas, and Oberyn left in the hall.

“I must take my leave, my lady,” Willas said with a yawn. “I am sure I will need all my energy for tomorrow.” He looked at her then, and she could not read his face though she tried. But his intentions became clear as his lips touched her cheek before his cane tapped against the floor as he retired for the night.

Y/N nearly leapt out of her skin when Oberyn’s hand enveloped hers when he settled beside her as she watched Willas walk away. But he only chuckled. “Peace, Little Shark, peace. It is just me.”

She huffed out a laugh and let her other hand cover his. “It is good to see you, truly. You and your family…you all seem so happy.”

“We are. My daughters are healthy and happy and Ellaria is the light of my days. And you,” he squeezed her hand, “you, little shark, have raised my sister’s children. You have kept them safe and healthy and happy.” He untangled their hands only to touch the sun pendant around her throat for a moment and a brief, sad smile pulled at his lips before he reached up to grasp her face again, gentle and warm. “You. Do not think to undermine yourself to me. You love them as they love you. You have taken on a responsibility you needn’t call yours—all because you loved my sister.” He kissed her forehead. “You have loved my family.” He kissed her right cheek and Y/N felt her breath stutter in her lungs. “You have helped them bring magic back into this wretched world.” He kissed her left. “And you…you still smile like the girl I knew all those years ago.” And then he kissed her again, brushing his lips against hers with a happy sigh and all Y/N could do was let him guide her, let him rob her lungs of air for the second time that night, let him fulfill a dream she had selfishly kept since her girlhood in Westeros.

But then she remembered Ellaria. Her hand found Oberyn’s chest and she gently pushed.

“What is it?” He asked, voice soft. “If I have overstepped-”

“The mother of your youngest is asleep in the other room, My Prince.”

“And she would take the time to kiss you properly as well. And she will, when or if you give her the opportunity.” His familiar roguish smile made her stomach twist with pleasant butterflies. “My heart may have found its match with my love, Ellaria, but that does not mean yours does not call to mine as well. We were made to delight in all the gods have given us. Ellaria and I often share in our delights. If you, my little shark, are amiable, I would like to keep kissing you. I would like for Ellaria to have her chance to kiss you, too.” And when she went to bed that night, slipping under her blankets, her mind hazed with thoughts of soft lips and kind words and the scent of roses she could not place.

The next day, they solidified the deal with Kraznys. He had tried to say he would only give them all of the Unsullied for all four dragons, but Daenerys stood firm and only agreed to one. The biggest. Drogon.

“And I shall take you as well,” Daenerys said as she turned to Missandei. “As a mark of a deal well struck.”

Missandei quickly translated to Kraznys who then waved a dismissive hand, allowing it. As if Missandei were not a person. It turned her stomach.

As soon as they were back at their manse, Rhaenys took the thick collar from around Missandei’s neck and threw it into the hearth, letting the leather smoke and burn.

“Is there a family on Naath we might reunite you with? A father, a mother?”

Missandei shook her head. “There is no one left of my family on Naath, your grace. This one is…alone.”

Daenerys reached out and gently took Missandei’s hands in her own. “You are no longer alone. You are with us. You are a free person—if you ever tire of our company, simply say so and we shall let you go wherever you wish. We will give you gold, a ship—anything you may need. I swear it.”

Missandei’s dark gold eyes searched Daenerys’ face before looking to Rhaenys and doing the same. “I will be able to leave?”

Rhaenys nodded. “Now, tomorrow, ten years from now. If you want to leave, we will make sure you are given all you require to make a comfortable life for yourself.”

“And what of the Unsullied who become yours tomorrow?”

Daenerys and Rhaenys wore matching, Cheshire smiles. “We have plans for them.”

**

“Are you certain of this plan?” Willas whispered as he watched Y/N place one of her (many) swords into its scabbard around her waist. They had been speaking all morning, of his time at Highgarden, of him traveling to Sunspear under the pretense of meeting with Princess Arianne, all of it. And she found herself realizing how easy it was to speak to him—how easy it had always been. But then the topic suddenly changed as he ask of the plan Daenerys and Rhaenys had hatched.

“I am,” she said.

“They are all destined to rule, in one way or another. They are queens; I am only an advisor. I must trust in their judgement.”

“And if it fails?”

“It won’t.” She slid another blade up her sleeve. “But I am never unprepared.” Y/N turned to Willas and smiled as she reached out to press a hand to his cheek. The mustache he had grown since she had last seen him suited him. He was always so handsome. “It is good to have you here. I shudder to think of the state of my nerves if you had refused my call.”

Willas smiled and reached up to cover her hand with his. “You know I could never refuse you, my lady.”

Y/N wanted to say more—wanted to say something, anything—but Aegon appeared in the doorway of her chambers before she could. Her hand snapped back down to her side. “It is time to go, Y/N.” His dark purple eyes shifted to Willas, “and you as well, my lord.”

Y/N nodded and stepped away from Willas with a strange, shaking smile.

In a strange procession, their group, growing by the day, arrived back at the Plaza of Pride (a stupid name). Drogon had been wrestled into a small cart that morning, his little belly filled with fine steak and Daenerys had peppered kisses along his scaled head before she had sealed him away. The battalions of Unsullied were all standing at rest, spears and shields held in front of them. Slowly, Daenerys walked to the small cart and undid its strappings, pulling Drogon from his makeshift cage with the chain on his foot. He pulled against his bonds as he neared the master. He knew.

“Is it done then? They belong to us?”

The master answered and Missandei translated. “It is done. You hold the whip.”

But the master continued talking, once again calling them all a bunch of bitches and mongrels but Daenerys did not flinch. She merely turned toward the army she now commanded and held up the whip.

“Unsullied!” Daenerys called out in her perfect High Valyrian. Y/N watched Missandei’s head snap around to look at the petite woman.

They instantly moved to attention.

“March forward!” They did. “Halt!” They did.

Y/N looked to Daenerys and then to the other three, seeing them all strangely calm. They were conquerors. They were blood of Old Valyria. They were Nymeria’s heirs. They were her charges.

“Tell the bitch the beast will not come,” the master said as Drogon continued to pull against his hold.

Daenerys slowly turned to face him, still holding the whip. “A dragon is not a slave.”

“You speak Valyrian?” He asked, aghast. But still not embarrassed.

“I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue.”

Aegon had to hide his smile behind his hand.

But then Daenerys turned back toward the Unsullied, her face set in stone. “Unsullied! Slay the masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who holds a whip, but harm no child. Strike the chains off every slave you see!”

And they did. In the next breath, the handful of masters walking at the flanks of the Unsullied had spears through their backs.

“I am your master!” The man screamed. “Kill her! Kill them all!”

“Dracarys.”

Y/N watched Drogon open his mouth and scream. Fire consumed the ‘good master’ and he screamed, too. It was a glorious scene. And, all at once, the square devolved into chaos. The assorted masters, who had come to witness the glory of the dragon, were killed where they stood. Jorah drew his sword but Y/N simply crossed her arms and watched everything unfold.

And, it was over within a span of only a few moments. The slavers were burnt and bloody. Dead. As they should be. But they were not finished.

Daenerys and her niece and nephews mounted their horses and rode through the Unsullied ranks. “Unsullied!” Daenerys called out. “You have been slaves all your life. Today, we give you freedom.”

“Any man who wishes to leave may leave, and no one will harm him. We give you our word,” Aegon said next. Y/N looked out to see a few of the helmeted men covertly glance up at him.

“Will you fight for us? As free men?” Daenerys’ voice rang out and was met with silence. For a moment. And then a single spear was smacked against the sand. Another joined. And then another. And another until the plaza was filled with the sound of the strange sound of the spears in sand.

They had their army. The city was theirs.

**

They did not leave Astapor immediately. They could not leave the city unguarded or without a stable ruling body. And a way to stabilize the economy.

The city needed to rebuilt from the destruction and just…overall. It was not well kept outside the former masters’ manses. Weeks turned to months as they met with the city’s population, trying to establish a ruling council of men and women who knew the city best and wanted to see it thrive. The Valyrian steel they still had was traded for brick and mortar, food, and medicines. Weapons. And while the city seemed to be getting its metaphorical feet back under itself again, it did nearly deplete their coffers. The gold from the dead masters was seized and redistributed to the freedmen to make sure they could provide for themselves as they settled into the new normal of the city and started their new lives.

The new Kings and Queens of the city took up residence in one of the manses and Balerion found the large open windows a favorite place to nap when he was not harassing the hatchlings, unafraid of their literal ability to breathe fire.

Rhaenys met with a small council of freedmen who had been in charge of the city’s infrastructure and had devised a plan to irrigate the city and its surrounding lands by diverting the water from Astapor’s river, which had been called Worm since the city’s inception. A terrible name, if Y/N was being honest.

But the irrigation was quickly done with new aqueducts and small orchards for plums and olives and lemons were planted, the small khalasar carrying in the plants from outside the city. A vineyard for persimmons was also widened in the center of the city, as Rhaenys knew that Astapor had the ability to make a fairly expensive and tart wine with the fruit. It made Y/N smile to realize that Rhaenys had a gift for creating (an albeit small) fertile wetland out of patch of a desert landscape.

Schools were fitted into the empty manses and training schools were established. It was slow work, true, but Y/N could not argue with the tired smiles that she saw on her charges faces each night as they gathered for dinner.

Jon and Aegon were fond of training alongside the Unsullied who were also helping other freedmen learn how to handle a sword and shield. The army was a force to be feared, truly. Grey Worm, the man they had elected to speak as their commander, had become another advisor. He spoke only High Valyrian as the rest of the Astapor did, but Missandei had been taking the time to teach who she could the Common Tongue. He was a man of the sword in all ways—but Y/N did see how his eyes softened ever so slightly whenever Missandei was in his presence. Small rebellions from former masters were quickly dealt with. There would be no room for it under their new rule. Oberyn and Willas were firm and fair advisors to the four younger regents. When to dispense bloody justice and when to stay their hand, how to broker trade with foreign kingdoms and settle arguments and disputes between their subjects—they provided guidance that Y/N and Ser Jorah could not. Missandei was a voice of the people and helped them truly know their subjects. She was the strongest of them all, Y/N was sure of it. Ellaria had a strength of her own, endearing herself and the young regents to anyone and anyone she encountered by showering them with gold for their trades and commissioning songs.

And the hatchlings were growing even faster, larger by the day. Y/N often went to market in the mornings to buy goats and cows to feed them when the others were still asleep, trying to keep the dragons from eating someone’s livestock without being compensated for it (again).

Drogon nudged her side as she dragged the fresh meat toward him and she patted his warm snout in greeting. “Good morning to you, too.”

Viserion and Rhaegal were still sleeping, curled around each other over the remnants of a fire that had been burnt last night. But Vēzos was already high in the sky, yellow and orange scales glittering in the early morning glow. But she landed after spotting her breakfast and let out a puff of smoke around Y/N’s face in thanks before she devoured her share.

“Y/N!”

She turned abruptly at the sound of Jon’s voice and frowned when she saw the unhidden panic on his pale features. Rhaegal suddenly rose from the embers of his bed and huffed, sensing his bonded’s dread. “What is it?”

**

Mayhaps Y/N should not have been surprised to see Xaro amongst the ‘envoys’ from the other slaver cities. It was not as if they had left Qarth on the best of terms…or unscathed.

“We will give you all the boats and soldiers you want or will need to retake Westeros, as long as you leave Slaver’s Bay. Immediately. And allow us to rectify the mess you have made of Astapor.”

“Removing shackles is a mess? Freeing men, women, and children is a mess?”

Drogon and Rhaegal both rumbled from behind their parents and the envoys all stumbled back, some tripping over their ornate robes and gilded slippers.

“It is our way of life!” Someone from Yunkai shouted, voice trembling.

“And their lives have value—more than the coin that line your palms.”

“Astapor is prospering,” Oberyn said. “Our coffers are twice as plentiful now with our wines and citrus and olives as they were when they traded in flesh and bone.”

“And your slaves have heard,” Rhaenys said. She looked regal on the throne beside her brothers and aunt. The Astapori gown she had commission from a freedwoman was made of a beautiful soft yellow linen and her hair was braided with a pair of golden bells at the end, a gift from Irri who had said she had earned it by helping take Astapor and the defeat of the Warlocks in Qarth. “They have heard of our people prosper. How they are free.” And that was true, there had been whispers of a start of an uprising in Yunkai and Meereen since they had taken Astapor.

“You are suggesting that we should free our slaves for a chance-”

“You were the ones to demand an audience,” Daenerys said. “And we were gracious enough to grant your request. But now that you are here, we do have a request. Free your slaves, pay them for their labor from the time you have sought to own them, and set aside your whips and chains.”

“We will not!” “Never!” On and on, the envoy refused.

“The Harpy will have her due!”

Aegon moved in front of Rhaenys, not even bothering to put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “The Harpy is a legend. A statue you have all built from the gold you have accumulated through the blood of innocents. We have four very real dragons and an army better trained and better equipped than your pampered slavers. Send your harpies.”

**

Y/N groaned as she saw yet another slash she had not remembered receiving when she was readying for bed that night. She had taken to sparring with Jon and Aegon alongside the Unsullied who were not on guard or patrol duties. It had apparently been far too long since she had dedicated time to training of that caliber—not that any of them could even hope to compare to Grey Worm and his compatriots. For now, the threats from Yunkai, Meereen, and Qarth had been unfulfilled. But they were still on their guard. But she did take a few moments of the day to help Dorea and Loreza and Obella work on their fighting stances. Elia, the eldest of the Sand Snakes born to Ellaria, was already very comfortable with her spear and had been taking to training with the Unsullied. Well, they were very patient with her and very gentle—as gentle as they could be. They were a fearsome bunch.

Y/N pulled the linen chemise over her head and reached for her dressing gown after cleaning the small wound.

“My lady,” a soft spoken handmaiden stuck her head into the chambers. “You have a visitor.”

“Send them in, please. I am just about decent enough for company.”

The handmaiden laughed quietly and nodded as Y/N tied the sash around her waist.

“Willas has been quite beneficial—he seems to have a magic touch when it comes to those persimmon trees. They bloom more every day.”

Y/N smiled as she turned to see Oberyn walking into the room. “Well, I have been told he is quite good with anything green. I would not be surprised if he and Rhaenys managed to raise a forest to rival Qohor from the sand.”

Oberyn chuckled and he held out a hand toward her. “Come, take a walk with me before you rest for the night. The night is cool enough for us to enjoy the moonlight.”

Y/N happily took his offered arm and let him lead her out to the gardens around their manse. And it was true, the air was cool and she could hear the faintest rumblings of the sea alongside the murmurs of the city. The gardens were still blooming with flowers despite the heat and the strange flora was a welcome respite from the red brick and sand of the city. It curved and cornered in a strange maze, leading around small fountains, and statues of legendary creatures, never reaching higher than their waists.

“How are your daughters finding the bay?”

“They find the air much like that of Dorne, so they do not mind the heat. But they do enjoy putting their Valyrian lessons to use and trying to learn all they can from the Unsullied.”

“They are formidable.”

Oberyn chuckled. “I would have them no other way. Dorne may be kinder than the other kingdoms of Westeros, but I would not have them unprepared for the rest of the world.” He squeezed her hand. “Just as you have made sure that the four under your care are prepared as well.”

“I have tried my best, my prince.”

Oberyn pulled them to a stop as they neared a bench and they settled next to each other and watched two of the dragons test their wings above them. “We have entered a new world. Dragons have come again. The Martell bloodline is conquering cities.”

“They want to make it a better world. And I want to see them succeed.”

“I will help them in all of their goals, I swear that to you.”

Y/N smiled, knowing what he said was true. She had never known him to break an oath.

“It seems, little shark, that we are not the only ones who thought of admiring the gardens tonight,” Oberyn whispered. He pointed toward the other side of the maze with a growing smile. Willas was standing at Ellaria’s side, looking as red as could be and trying to hide it behind his hand. Ellaria was smiling at him as if she hadn’t a care in the world—but the glint in her beautiful eyes told Y/N that Ellaria knew exactly the effect she was having on the lord.

“He does not quite know how to hold his wine,” Oberyn said with a smirk. “If given too much, he would accept any challenge.”

“Is that why there is now a golden pearl on his ear, my prince?”

Oberyn only chuckled. “You must admit, he looks quite dashing.”

“Yes, he does. But you know I’ve always been fond of his shy smile.”

“And he has been fond of you.”

Y/N clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Perhaps when I was younger, still a young wife in the making with connections to a royal court or two. It has been ages since I have made him smile like that.”

Now it was Oberyn’s turn to shake his head. “Little Lord Willas, heir to one of the most powerful kingdoms in Westeros, has remained unmarried and unattached since you disappeared from Dragonstone, little shark. And it is not for lack of trying from the many unmarried women who know of his status.”

It would be a lie to say that her heart did not clench when it was said aloud and so bluntly. “It would be foolish to think-”

“Despite his family’s animosity, he and I have…become friends.”

“Friends?” Y/N parroted with an arch of her eyebrow.

Oberyn’s wolfish smile made her stomach flip, as it always did. “You know I treat my friends well.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile, biting her lip. “No wonder he has remained unmarried. Who could compete with the Red Viper?”

Oberyn’s warm hand settled over hers and squeezed. “You know I am not opposed to having a married person in my bed. It was not me who kept him from calling someone wife.”

Y/N scoffed. “You cannot be insinuating that I-”

“I’m not insinuating anything, little shark. I am telling you. The man has been in love with you since you first came to Westeros. When he was still a shy young thing and you were the foreign maid who acted as my sister’s shadow.”

“We haven’t seen each other in over a decade. I am now old enough to be considered an old maid-”

“And the heart wants what the heart wants. He has come half way across the world because you asked him to. Now, tell me, why did you ask him?”

“I…” She tried to think of an answer. Because he had helped her flee. Because he was a friend. Because because because. But none of those reasons seemed like the truth. “I do not know.”

**

A small skirmish had broken out on the borders of Astapor. The sellsword company known as the Windblown had allegedly been hired by Yunkai to deal with the ‘dragon kings and queens.’ It, of course, hadn’t worked and they were pushed back the Unsullied.

The fight had only given them all credence to continue to feed the rebellions in the other cities and slowly cut off their supply chains at the mouth of the bay. This morning, Y/N was reviewing the takings from the ships they had seized when she noticed a familiar face was missing.

“Where has Oberyn gone?” Y/N asked as she entered the kitchens, finding Ellaria there, pouring a bit of honey over a bowl of berries.

“He set off in the night, some mission on his mind.”

“You did not go with him?” Y/N asked as she slipped into the seat beside her, plucking a handful of berries from the bowl. “I am surprised he would not have you at his side.”

Ellaria chuckled and shook her head. “He asked, but I did not think our daughters would like to be too far from the excitement of the cities.” She popped a berry between her beautiful lips with a growing smile. “And I did hope we could know each other a little better. Oberyn always speaks of you so fondly. I feel as if we are friends already.”

Y/N felt a wash of warmth as she looked at the other woman and nodded. “I feel that way as well. But I would be honored if I could steal a bit of your time today, if your daughters would not mind.”

Ellaria gave her another dashing smile. “I am sure they will survive a few hours without me.”

And so, Y/N let Ellaria lead her around the city, mostly through the markets that Y/N had not had the chance to truly peruse. And it was true, they had settled into a camaraderie that usually took years to build. Ellaria might have been the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen, but she was also kind and funny and had a sharp wit with a matching, striking smile. Y/N only wished she’d had the fortune of having her as a friend years ago—but Y/N would take what she could get now. And hold to it desperately.

“This?” Y/N held up a pale lilac bit of silk, they had been trying to find the right fabric for a new dress for Y/N—apparently Ellaria found Y/N’s lack of dresses something to be rectified.

Ellaria shook her head and picked up a stretch of red lace, filled with delicate flowers with tiny golden thread woven within. Ellaria draped it over Y/N’s shoulder with a smile. “This suits you. The flowers. Just a touch of gold. It is delicate—like you.”

Y/N chuckled and let her finger slide against the edge of the lace. “I do not think I have ever been called delicate.”

Ellaria’s soft fingers gently grasped Y/N’s chin and there was a steely determination in her gaze as she looked into Y/N’s eyes. “You are delicate, Y/N. Your skin and soul may have been forged in steel, but your heart is delicate. You have a soft, gentle heart. And you are ever the more beautiful for it.” Her hand moved to cradle Y/N’s cheek, surely feeling its warmth. “Do you not see yourself as I do?”

“Apparently not,” Y/N said with a shake of her head, not too rough to have Ellaria’s touch leave.

“You are,” she said and then leaned close enough to just barely brush her lips against hers before she pulled the lace from around Y/N’s shoulders and turned back to the merchant. “We will take all of this. Thank you.”

And then Ellaria was all but hauling her back into the cooled shadows of their manse and out into the gardens again, dropping their lace and silks off into the hands of a smiling handmaiden who giggled as they walked by.

It was just the pair of them in the garden, listening to the trickling of water and the wind as it rustled the rigged leaves and branches of the maze. But all Y/N could feel, see, hear, was Ellaria.

Ellaria and her beautiful lips.

Ellaria’s mouth was soft as it moved against hers. And she sighed so prettily when Y/N tangled her fingers into her thick hair and tugged.

“Oh.”

Y/N pulled away from Ellaria’s beautiful mouth to see Willas standing near one of the fountains, a pink tinge to his cheeks and a white-knuckle grip on his cane.

“Lord Willas,” Ellaria called out, her voice husky, “join us.”

Willas looked away, cheeks still roaring with color, and shook his head. “I am afraid I would only…get in the way.” He cleared his throat and turned. “Please, excuse me.”

Y/N watched him go, mind clearing for a moment, and frowned.

Ellaria dragged her lips against Y/N’s cheek. “He will join us when he’s ready. I promise you that.” She sponged a kiss at the corner of Y/N’s mouth. “But I do not want to be interrupted again. If you are agreeable, I want to see what you have hiding under this hideous tunic.”

And well, Y/N could never tell her no and led her back to her chambers and locked the door.

Ellaria was even softer beneath her fine, silk dress that Y/N slowly pushed down her arms to greedily cup her full breasts in her hands.

“Eager,” Ellaria said with a breathy chuckle.

Y/N could only whine against her mouth as she felt Ellaria’s nimble fingers slide easily beneath the tops of her leather breeches. They were pushed down her legs and her loose tunic was pulled up and over her head before Ellaria all but shoved her back onto the featherbed, watching her bounce with a smile. Y/N didn’t even have thought to be a little shy over her nakedness—she just wanted Ellaria close again. And then Ellaria was crawling up the bed and settling across Y/N’s stomach, warm thighs bracketing her ribs. And there was something nearly magical with knowing she was the cause of the slick spot she could feel growing just above her belly button. She had made Ellaria feel like that.

Y/N’s hands slid up her smooth skin to hold her hips and Ellaria’s hands settled over hers with a widening smile.

“I like seeing you like this,” Ellaria said before leaning down to lick across Y/N’s mouth before kissing her thoroughly, oh so easily stealing the breath from her lungs. Then she moved. Her lips trailed down Y/N’s neck, to her chest, teeth scraping against the curve of her breasts as she slid down Y/N’s body, and dragged her slick lips against Y/N’s skin. Her mind was a warm mess—all there was, was Ellaria and her beautiful mouth. Ellaria and her perfect hands. Ellaria and her wet tongue.

Ellaria slipped between Y/N’s legs and kissed her left hip and then her right before licking a bold stripe against Y/N’s folds, wrenching a broken moan from her lips. “So pretty,” Ellaria cooed. And her grip tightened. Again and again the Dornishwoman’s tongue curled and twisted and Y/N could feel an unfamiliar coil start to tighten in her stomach as her thighs suddenly clamped around Ellaria’s head. The woman only laughed against her core and the vibrations had Y/N moaning, hands reaching down to tangle in Ellaria’s perfect, perfumed hair. Ellaria managed to wriggle her hand between them and curled one finger and then two into the wet heat of Y/N’s core and started to slide them in and out, in and out, wet sounds filling the air alongside Y/N’s growing moans.

It was perfect. She was perfect. And as soon as Ellaria curled her fingers, the coil snapped and Y/N sobbed. Her heart was racing, sweat and dotted her chest and brow but she felt beautiful and her vision cleared and she looked down to see Ellaria pressing her cheek against her hip, drawing shapes against her heated skin with the dull nail of her forefinger.

“You must teach me how to do that. I want to make you feel like this.”

And so…Ellaria did.

**

The next morning, Ellaria was still sleeping peacefully, tangled in Y/N’s silken blankets as she rose with the sun. Y/N gently pressed a kiss to her cheek and slipped away from her comforting warmth to ready for the day and found Daenerys sitting on one of the manse’s balconies, watching the four hatchlings soar above the gardens as the sun grew hotter and higher in the sky. Y/N sat beside her and had a bit of food brought out so they could break their fast together. Daenerys seemed…happy. Truly. Happier than she had been since Y/N had seen her last, as a child. But there was something she was not saying. Y/N knew it.

“Tell me what is on your mind, Dany.” She reached out and gently grasped the young princess’ hand and squeezed three times.

“I do not…” She paused. “I was born on Dragonstone. I am the princess of the rightful ruling family.” She pushed out a long breath. “I will see my niece on the Iron Throne and I know the kingdom will be better for it.”

“But?” Y/N asked, knowing there was something else that needed to be said.

“But I do not know if Westeros is my home. I have no memories of it. Jon and Aegon do not either but they still feel some sort of calling, a need to go back.” The wind blew a bit of her silver hair across her face as she looked out across the bay. “I do not feel that. Viserys sold me for the throne he thought he deserved and I found a small bit of solace in my few friends in my khalasar and then more here with the Unsullied and the freedmen of the bay.”

Y/N watched a few emotions flitter across Daenerys’ face before she turned back to the bay, too. “You have been pushed and pulled to one place or another your entire life, Dany. Finding a place where you feel at home is something to be proud of. Do not let other people’s opinions or aspirations dictate yours. You deserve a home. Peace.”

“And where is your home? Skilliga?”

Y/N shrugged. “Skilliga has housed me and raised me just as much as Westeros and Essos has, I suppose. I know my uncle and cousins are safe and happy there. I know that I will be able to hear and taste the sea from my rooms again if I ever went back.” She sighed. “But I think I have seen too much of the world to be happy on my little island again, for the rest of my life.”

“Mayhaps you can find a home with Lord Willas. I have heard how he calls on you—ever so sweetly.”

Y/N groaned. “Not you as well, Dany!”

The girl only laughed.

Y/N sighed. “Either way, if you want to stay in Essos, you can. What is a few thousand miles to a dragon, hm? Nothing. Your family will never be too far.” She tugged at the end of Daenerys’ braid and listened to the Dothraki bells she had earned ring. “But you mustn’t think of it just yet, Dany. We still have so much more to do.” She pressed a smile to her face. “We have time.”

Daenerys giggled and shook her head. “And we still have so much to do this side of the Narrow Sea.”

**

It had been ages since Y/N had thought of sacking a city. She used to dream of it as a little girl, bringing home riches and other pretty things to fill her rooms and make her parents proud. But perhaps her parents were more bloodthirsty than the rest of Skilliga—and that had been why Uncle Hammond had sent her away to Westeros, to try to quell that need for violence with the niceties of a foreign court and responsibility. But, she had to ask herself as she looked over the maps of the cities and waterways and tunnels, that hadn’t quite worked, had it?

Obara and Nymeria were near-master tacticians, easily finding ways Y/N did not see to surround the city and infiltrate even the thickest of defense walls. But their true expertise, it seemed, in planning diversions.

“I can take a small battalion of freedmen to the west gate and use the two battering rams we have made from the scraps of Valyrian steel.”

“That will give Grey Worm’s host enough of time to march through the South Gate which will be raised by Belwas.”

Dorea was seated on Y/N’s lap, as she often was during war room discussions, moving the pieces across the war map along with her sisters’ plans. Y/N never did mind when she first crawled atop her legs without invitation but had welcomed her every time it happened. She reminded Y/N of the quietly intelligent but playful Rhaenys used to be.

“I like this color,” Dorea said, holding up the Martell orange token embellished with the familiar red dragon of House Targaryen.

“It is pretty, is it not?” Y/N answered. “Can you put that at the West Gate for me?”

The little girl did happily.

“Thank you, Dorea,” She said as she gently swept Dorea’s hair away from her forehead, it had fallen from the intricate braid Ellaria had woven this morning. “We shall make a strategist out of you yet.”

She happily laughed and it drew more smiles from Obara and Nymeria. “I’m hungry.”

“I think the kitchens are just about ready for luncheon, little one. Why don’t you go see?”

Dorea leapt from Y/N’s lap and scurried away with another laugh.

“You are good with her.”

“I have had plenty of practice.”

“When you have your own, I am sure even the nurses will know less than you.”

Y/N huffed at Nymeria’s well-intentioned remark. “I am not sure if I will have any of my own.”

“Why not?” Obara asked, arching one of her dark eyebrows. “It is obvious you crave for some of your own.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond when the door to the war room opened and Tyene ran inside, her pale cheeks were filled with color and her eyes darted to her sisters.

“Someone has breached our walls.”

Y/N was running out of the room before she could hear the rest of what Tyene had said—she sprinted toward the kitchens, where she knew her charges were probably gathering for their next meal.

And she was, unfortunately, correct.

And it seemed the intruder knew their schedule as well.

Two men with golden harpy masks had Daenerys at the end of their swords. Little Dorea was standing behind her, eyes narrowed. The bodies of the kitchen maids were on the floor, crimson puddles staining the marble floors.

Y/N had meant to sneak up on them. Truly. They hadn’t noticed her presence just yet-

But Aegon and Jon burst in through the other door and drew the harpies’ attention. They pivoted and their swords raised. Y/N shoved Aegon out of the way and felt the warm steel sink into her stomach. And then it happened again, the blade finding the bone of her hip as it broke through. Blood bubbled in her mouth with her next breath and she watched, in a haze, as Jon took one of the men’s head from his shoulders.

“Y/N?” Rhaenys’ voice was fading in her ears as she fell to her knees, she barely saw her eldest standing in the kitchen doorway.

There was a scuffle with the other man, but she hardly noticed, feeling her heart beat in time with the warmth coating her hands. It drip drip dripped onto the marble in an uneven staccato.

It took her a moment to realize that both Rhaenys and Daenerys were trying to speak to her, their little hands pressing over her wounds and trying to staunch the bleeding.

“That hurts,” Y/N said, words tumbling from her mouth without thought. Of course it hurt. She had been stabbed.

“I cannot do this without you,” Rhaenys cried.

“You will be just fine, sunshine.”

Daenerys was yelling for the healers as Aegon and Jon held the other Harpy on his knees.

“Don’t speak like that,” she whispered. “I need you.”

Y/N wanted to say something, wanted to say that she knew Rhaenys and her brothers and aunt would be fine—they would shape the world into a better place with Oberyn, Ellaria, and Willas at their side. She knew because she had seen it—that maybe a bit of the old magic had finally stirred in her foreigner blood. But her blood was currently filling her mouth and her world went dark.

**

She remembered very little from her time under the healer’s hands. Pain, the smell of Milk of the Poppy, someone was crying. And then nothing. Nothing.

Nothing until a warm, soft hand gently cradled her cheek. “I will wait,” someone whispered. “I have waited years, I can wait a few moons longer.”

But she woke, fully, as soon as she could and was told that her movements would be stilted and painful for some time.

Willas was at her side when her eyes opened, clear for the first time in weeks even if her brain did still feel fogged with the Milk of the Poppy. “It is good to see your beautiful eyes again, my lady. We have all missed you.” She spotted Balerion at the foot of the featherbed, looking more content to be in her presence than he had ever been before.

Y/N reached out and scratched behind Balerion's ears before she touched Willas' hand and watched his shoulders sag, as if he had been carrying some unseen weight across his back and had finally been relieved of it. “I mean this in the best way, my lord. But you look as if you have not rested in weeks.”

Willas huffed. “I have not. Most of us have not. We have been taking shifts to be at your side. The healers have said it would be best to keep an eye on you. Lady Ellaria just left, she has been the most dutiful to be at your bedside beside Her Grace, Rhaenys. Oberyn has been diligent in making sure your wrappings were changed.” He squeezed at her hand. “Do I truly look so unwell?”

Y/N smiled, feeling her dry lips crack with the motion. “Still handsome. As always, my lord.”

“Please, call me Willas.”

“We are alone, I suppose it could be appropriate-”

“Always, please, simply call me Willas. We have known each other long enough. Willas. I am Willas just as you are my Y/N.”

“My Willas.” She liked the sound of it. She liked it even more when his cheeks once again bloomed a pretty pink. “Tell me, my Willas, what have I missed since I have come to this bed?”

Apparently she had missed quite a bit.

Yunkai and Meereen had both fallen under the weight of the combined armies of the Unsullied, trained Freedmen, and the Second Sons—and bolstered by the revolts Aegon and Grey Worm had started by slipping into the cities under the cover of darkness to speak to anyone who would listen. Daenerys had united almost all of the Dothraki under a single khalasar and had been named the Great Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, commanding a group of Dothraki the world had never seen. Ser Jorah had been sent away after it had been discovered that he had been sending information to King Robert about the movements of Daenerys and Viserys and had been the reason assassins had been able to track them across Essos. Norvos and Qohor had freed their slaves without the threat of dragons—both cities cited the coming of dragons and magic and prophecy (but Y/N hypothesized that the Dothraki might have ‘helped’ their decision). It was all very…strange. Whispers from the red priests and priestess of the Red God of R’hllor, the Lord of Light, were spreading through all of western Essos, calling the four The Princes who were Promised. Azor Ahai, a prophesized hero. And Oberyn had contracted his old sellsword company, the Second Sons, bringing them under his employ to help bolster their forces. That was where he had gone, apparently he had returned only a few moments after Y/N had been carted off to the healers. Blood was still covering the kitchen when he had come in.

“I have only seen him so distressed once before,” Willas said, still holding her hand.

“Oh?”

“Yes. Lady Ellaria, after bringing little Loreza into the world, she kept…bleeding. And Loreza was called ‘sickly’ and ‘weak.’ The maesters told him to expect to lose them both before the sun went down. I have never seen a man so in love and so enraged. He raged at the world. Pleaded with the gods, cursed them. Oberyn threw the maesters out of the palace and sent for a healer from the Orphans of the Greenblood, an elder wise woman who kept the old gods of the Rhoynar. And she came. When the moon rose, Ellaria was holding little Loreza to her breast and she was smiling.” His thumb drew small circles on the back of her hand. “He only smiled again when he kissed them, moon high in the sky and with river water on his skin.” He sighed and a small smile pushed up his lips. “And then he saw you, covered in your own blood and about to welcome the Stranger with both arms. And I saw that desperate, raging man again.”

Y/N looked at him then, watched his untamed, dark curls fall over his forehead and she reached out with her free hand to gently push them back. Willas leaned into her touch and her heart leapt into throat when he turned his face just the slightest bit to slide his lips against the pulse of her wrist. “But I am here now. I am healing.”

“You are. But there is much more to do, is there not? And you will not stop. Not while your hatchlings, Aegon, Rhaenys, Jon, and Daenerys, still need you.” His grip tightened on her hand just a moment. “You will not stop,” he repeated.

“You know I cannot.”

“Then I will be beside you until this is finished.” He brought their joined hands up to his mouth and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “And I still have more to tell you.”

The declarations of war from Lys, Myr, Tyrosh, and Pentos were more of what she was expecting. The might of Braavos and the few war ships little Lorath had were pledged to the Martells’ and Targaryens’ cause.

War had come to Essos again.

**

Y/N supposed she should not have been surprised that a few hundred people decided to leave the Bay and follow them toward the Free Cities. Leaving a city in search of a better life was something she had done, many times over.

Volantis had fallen, surrendered and another city had been added to the growing empire. Like in Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen, they had settled in the city and weeded out possible uprisings and subterfuge while redistributing the former masters’ wealth and resources to those who deserved it.

When they continued on, part of their army was left to help protect them and help the new council of Freedmen who had pledged loyalty to Rhaenys, Aegon, Jon, and Daenerys.

But before they moved on toward the Free Cities, who were already warring with Braavos and a few battalions sent by Qohor and Norvos, they stopped, once again, at Chroyane.

“I have never seen anything more beautiful,” Oberyn said, a large smile splitting his face. “Even in ruin, she is magnificent.”

The two littlest of the Sand Snakes shrieked at the sight and all but leapt from their horse and into the clear river water. Ellaria laughed as she watched them before tying up her skirt to follow suit.

It was a welcome reprieve. Y/N’s scars ached when she moved too quickly sometimes and the constant jostling of her mare sometimes only made it worse. It felt good to dip her feet into the cooled waters and listen to the children laugh and splash in the river. Balerion once again watched one of the giant turtles with calculating eyes as he let the sun warm his black fur.

Oberyn settled at Y/N’s side on the bank of the river and watched the sun set in a quiet companionship. “I never thought I would see this. I never thought the sun would shine on this part of the world again. And here it is, as beautiful as ever.”

“It is almost as if the Mother Rhoyne was simply waiting for them,” Y/N said, tilting her head just so to indicated Rhaenys and Aegon who were now splashing around with Ellaria and her daughters, dodging Tyene and Nymeria’s hands as they tried to dunk them into the slow moving waves.

The four dragons trilled above them in the crystal blue sky, as content as their bonded.

Oberyn’s roughened, warm hand settled over hers on the bank. Without a word, he leaned into her and pressed a slow kiss against the side of her neck but she felt him smile against her skin as she shivered. “You are magnificent, little shark. I owe you, my family owes you a great debt.”

“I am owed nothing. I only want to see them grow and succeed. I love them.”

“And they love you,” Oberyn said as he sat back to look at her, smile at her in the sun. “My family loves you. I love you.”

Her heart stuttered. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is. You have made it easy.”

Y/N dropped her chin to her chest, hiding her smile before Oberyn’s finger hooked under her chin and he kissed her briefly.

“Papa!” Dorea called out. “Come play with us!”

Y/N drew back to see his daughters waving him forward, all of them positively drenched. “Go,” Y/N said with a laugh. “You are being summoned.”

Oberyn kissed her cheek before rising and then making a show of running and jumping into the river near them, splashing them all in one motion.

Y/N roared with laughter at the scene but quickly stood when she saw Nymeria and Ellaria turn their gazes to her, hands cupped with water and ready to splash. “Not today!” Y/N stumbled to her feet and managed to evade most of the aimed water as she laughed.

She walked barefoot through the ruins and over the riverbank, seeing their traveling party all partaking in the clean water and cool air. For a moment, there was peace. She spotted Missandei and Grey Worm quietly speaking on the broken stone of a palace, their feet in the water. Irri and Jhiqui were happily watering their horses further downstream while a few other members of the khalasar were racing their mounts through the tall, green grass. Daenerys and Jon were both pulling more weapons from the muck at the opposite bank and handing them off to whomever was by.

But it was Willas, sitting a little further away from the river, which caught her eye. He was cross-legged on the green grass, fiddling with something on his lap while his cane was settled beside him. The sun was shining on his dark hair, curls once again a bit mussed.

“What are you making?”

“A crown,” Willas said, cheeks once again blooming with color as she sat beside him. “My little sister taught me how to do it a few years ago. We would sit in the fields around Highgarden and pluck wildflowers to string together. Hers were always much more polished than mine.”

Y/N leaned a little closer to see that while it might not have been perfectly braided, it was still tightly woven and the flowers were in full bloom. “I think yours is well done, Willas. Will you teach me?”

Y/N laughed as Willas dropped the haphazard crown of white blooms onto her head and it nearly fell over her eyes. “I will let you have mine,” he said, but he did tried to teach her—until Y/N’s indelicate fingers ruined her third crown and she gave up, throwing herself back into the soft grass with a laugh. She reached up for a moment and grabbed the back of Willas’ tunic, pulling him down beside her.

They spoke for a little bit, of magic, of Highgarden, of their adventures in the Bay—now affectionately and rightly dubbed Dragon’s Bay. It was easy.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Y/N hummed at the question, mulling the answers in her mind. “I have lived and crossed the Narrow Sea, the Summer Sea, too. I have tasted and tested the Jade Sea. The Shivering Sea holds no value to me and that only leaves…”

“The Sunset Sea.” Willas nodded. She might have noticed a bit of pink touch his cheeks but she did not mention it. “The Mander, the river in the Reach, rushes by Highgarden and empties into the Sunset Sea.” He cleared his throat. “I could… House Tyrell has barges which sail that route easily. I would be happy to make sure you see your wish fulfilled.”

Y/N smiled and shook her head as she turned in the grass to look at him. “You are far too kind, Lord Willas. But what of you? Where would you go?”

The pink was raging on his cheeks now. “I would wish to only be at your side.”

Y/N felt her next breath stall in her throat and she looked at him, his cheeks still filled with pink but his blue eyes were so earnest—they had always been so lovely. “I suppose I do provide a bit of adventure.”

“You provide much more than that. I promise you.”

She wanted to say something. She wanted to say that he provided so much more than anything she could have hoped for but, it seemed that fate had other plans. “Y/N!”

She sat up from the grass to see Daenerys and a still-damp Rhaenys waving her over. The ground shook as both Drogon and Vēzos landed. They made quite a pair, the black and the yellow. “What is it, my loves?”

“We are taking them up to test their wings with riders again.” It had been a new practice, apparently, for all four of them to take their dragons to flight. They were surely large enough for it now.

Daenerys quickly climbed onto Drogon’s back and Rhaenys did the same.

“Come with me,” Rhaenys said, extending a hand toward Y/N. “Fly.”

Without thought, Y/N took Rhaenys’ hand and let her pull her up onto Vēzos’ back. And then, with a rumble, they were taking to the sky, the cool air whipping over her skin as she held, probably too tightly, to the spikes along the dragon’s back. But she listened to Rhaenys laugh and saw Daenerys smile and her momentary fear vanished. They were happy.

And she was flying.

When they landed, a small group of Freedmen were waiting for them and asked for an audience with Rhaenys which she quickly agreed to, always willing to hear anything her subjects would bring to her.

“Your Grace,” one man said, a timid smile on his face. “It would be a great honor if we could rebuild the palace for you and your family. The city.”

Rhaenys shook her head as she reached out toward the man and gently took his rough hands. “Your life is your own. You do not need to rebuild the city simply because I find it lovely.”

The man ducked his head, smile growing. “We know it is not an order you would give, Your Grace. We have made a…” he frowned, searching for the word, “council, as you have in Astapor and Yunkai and Meereen. And we want to stay here, rebuild. The soil is fertile, the trade possibility is strong. We could build a home here, beautiful and strong like it once was.”

Y/N watched Rhaenys’ eyes fill with tears and she diverted her gaze, letting the young queen compose herself.

“And you truly believe that your families could be happy here? It could take years before it is fully rebuilt.”

The man nodded and looked at Rhaenys, his small smile growing. “It will be hard work, but I know it would be worth it, Your Grace. A new home for us, for your family.”

Rhaenys was quiet for a moment before she squeezed the man’s hands again. “Then it would be an honor.”

**

The Disputed Lands had been feuded over and razed and rebuilt over and over again since the Doom. Lys, Tyrosh, and Myr all laid claim to them and would war with the others over the fertile soil. But they now belonged to Rhaenys and her brothers and aunt.

Braavos and Lorath were making almost embarrassingly quick work of conquering the cities with the help of another set of sellsword companies from the north and east, and with the Dragons and their armies making war on them from the west and Y/N and Willas led a small fleet of ships outfitted with weapons salvaged from the Chroyane sailing from the South, it was finished within a few short moons.

The Sealord of Braavos met them just outside the high walls of Pentos, presenting them with the signed surrender of the magistrates and city prince—and a few extra ‘gifts.’ One was the head of Illyrio Mopatis. The next two were faces she barely recognized—and truly, she recognized their names more than their persons. Tyrion Lannister and Varys both had chains around their wrists but seemed pleased with the situation. “They say they want to swear loyalty to your dragon kings and queens.”

“Yes, well,” Y/N’s eyes dragged over the pair, distrusting. “Most do after they see dragonfire.” The fire still blazing behind the walls scented the air.

Y/N left her charges to speak politics with their ally and went to check on the dragons as they rested in the fields. The four had fought bravely, if not a little erratically. They were still getting used to battles and they were still young. They were fearsome though, and Y/N loved them as their riders did. The large creatures huffed in welcome as she neared and she patted their sides in hello.

Oberyn carefully walked toward them, knowing that the dragons recognized him but was still cautious. When they accepted his familiar scent, they either lowered their heads to rest again or nudged him once in greeting. “They are protective of you,” Oberyn said as he watched Y/N stroke at Drogon’s nose, content. “You may not be their bonded rider, but they know you just the same.”

“I think it is because their riders smell like me.”

Drogon huffed.

“He disagrees,” Oberyn said with a laugh. “They recognize you because they feel what their bonded riders feel.”

“I would not argue with a dragon,” Ellaria laughed as she joined them in the field. She reached out and stroked Rhaegal’s side. “They are calling for the Queenmaker,” she said as she watched Rhaegal’s wings stretch.

Y/N sighed. She had earned a few monikers during the conquest of western Essos. She had been called Queenmaker. The Sea Dragon. Preposterous names, truly. The four had given themselves their crowns, forged their own paths. She just made sure they had survived to this point. She did not make them. And she had no dragon of her own. But she answered to the monikers anyway. It was less of an argument. “What has happened now?”

Ellaria chuckled. “I do believe it is to settle a dispute between a few of your Corsairs.”

Y/N nodded and excused herself but was stopped when Ellaria grasped her wrist. She kissed her quickly with a smile. “Come back soon. It has been a long day.”

And Y/N quickly hurried off, a smile on her face.

**

They settled in Pentos. The throne that once belonged to the Prince of Pentos had been divided into four equal chairs, just as all the thrones of the cities they had conquered had been. The rooms were thankfully spacious and an entire room had been filled with the scrap Valyrian Steel they had taken from the ruins and mud of the Chroyane. It would provide food and protection for their new empire if spent correctly—and Willas was already making sure that food was being traded responsibly and fairly between the cities while the sellsword companies they had paid were continuing to be paid to keep their loyalty. And he was also mostly in charge of the ‘care’ of their two Westerosi guests. Tyrion and Varys had proven mostly useful with their knowledge about the political turmoil currently engulfing the Seven Kingdoms and bringing news of the “terrible” death of Tywin Lannister while also providing possible battle plans when they finally did make land for Rhaenys’ crown. But Y/N still did not like them.

But that was not her mission for the day (despite realizing how handsome Willas looked while poring over the parchment detailing food storage and trade routes in his chambers with a slumbering Balerion on his lap). No. Aegon’s ten-and-six nameday was nearly upon them and Y/N had the perfect present in mind. She had given a set of Valyrian Steel-tipped arrows and a dragonbone bow to Rhaenys for her ten-and-sixth nameday, and now it was Aegon’s turn. The stupid lion head pommel was not Valyrian steel so she had no problem seeing it hacked off and reworked. The smith was quick and skilled, easily melting the gold into a puddle to be reformed. She watched him work, perching on the rickety stool in the corner and talking with him as the smoke and steam from his work clouded the forge. He was a genial man, happy to tell his story and hear hers in return. “They are blessed to have you, the little kings and queens.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head. “No, no. I am the blessed. They have been the lights of my life.”

“You have no children?”

Y/N nearly choked on her breath at the blunt question. “N-no. I have been… They have been my children, I suppose.”

The smith nodded at that and then continued to work in silence, attaching the new pommel to the rest of the jeweled hilt. He made it look easy and handed over the sword, now topped with a sun. It was perfect—and finished just in time.

She presented it to him at the end of his favorite meal and laughed when he tried to hug her, still holding the blade out in front of him.

“Let me see it!” Oberyn said with a laugh and Aegon happily handed it over to his uncle who inspected it with a practiced eye. Y/N did not expect the laughter that bubbled out of Oberyn’s throat but it made her smile either way. “Did this have a lion’s head, little shark?”

Y/N nodded.

Oberyn handed the blade back over to Aegon with a flourish. “You are holding the Valyrian steel sword that House Lannister once wielded. I find it…poetic that you will now call it your own.”

“But it needs a name!” Jon said. “All good swords need a name.”

Aegon held the sword up as Rhaenys and Daenerys cheered alongside their family. “It shall be called Sunshard.”

Perhaps she could convince him to change it later or Jon would come up with a better name for the Valyrian Steel axe she had stowed away for his next nameday or the dagger she would give to Daenerys for hers. But for now, she let Aegon swing the sword around like he was a little boy in the training grounds again.

For now, they were happy.

When the celebration died down and they dispersed for the night, the taste of honeycakes and lemon still on their tongues, Y/N found herself surprised to find Daenerys and Rhaenys waiting for her in the small solar connected to her chambers.

“This is a surprise, my loves. How may I help you?”

Rhaenys reached out her hands for Y/N to take and squeezed them both three times with a smile as she pulled her down on the cushioned bench between them. “Today was a joyous day. One finally filled without war or training or bloodshed.”

“We have all fought hard for it,” Daenerys murmured.

“You were a child yourself when you took us with you to Essos. Where had your childhood gone? The court at the Red Keep. Running and hiding with three babes who were not yours through a foreign land.”

“I made that choice. And I would make it again-”

“I am asking you to make the choice to be happy. To let yourself have an adventure without worrying over us.”

“I will always worry over you.”

“Just as we worry over you. You have been our guiding hand, our fiercest protector and staunchest supporter. Our most loyal older sibling. You have loved us. We love you. And we want you to be happy.”

Y/N turned to Daenerys as if that would provide some sort of answer. “Are you asking me to leave your side?”

“Never!” Both Rhaenys and Daenerys shouted.

“We will never send you away. But, we want you to know that if you are called to someone’s side, we want you to be happy.”

“What has brought this on? Have I said something?” The words caught in her throat but Rhaenys simply squeezed her hands again. One two three.

“No. But we have realized that you have set aside everything for us. And we simply want you to be happy.”

They each leaned forward and kissed her on the cheeks. The three spoke for a little longer, calming Y/N’s strange fear of being sent away, before they excused themselves with matching yawns. But Y/N could not sleep. Not with that strange revelation singing in her ears.

She pulled on her dressing gown and padded down to the gardens of the palace. She could hear the sea and it was a small comfort. But she turned at the familiar tap of a cane against stone and smiled as Willas settled beside her.

“You could not sleep either?”

He shook his head, curls sliding against his ears. “I suppose I am now accustomed to a little more excitement during the day to tire me out.”

Y/N chuckled and angled her head up to look at the glittering stars. “But it was a good day. I can sleep late tomorrow.”

The pair was quiet for a moment, the comfortable silence between them only broken by the inconsistent chittering of a bird or the sea crashing against the city walls.

“When this is over, will you rest?”

Y/N frowned at the question and turned to look at him. “Rest?”

“When the little hatchlings are settled in their kingdoms and safe. Where will you be?”

“I…” She tried to find the words she needed but she did not know the answer.

Willas reached out and gently grasped her hand. “You deserve rest too, my lady.” He looked at her, blue eyes shining and a familiar pink tint to his cheeks.

The quiet moment was cut short by a violent scream—one Y/N knew too well. She leapt to her feet and dashed back into the palace. Y/N pushed through the hall and burst into Rhaenys’ room to see her shivering on her bed. “Oh, my sunshine.”

Rhaenys reached out for her and Y/N instantly wrapped her arms around her as they sunk into the plush featherbed. “They have come again,” she whispered. “The cold. The ice. The terrible dead men. They are haunting me again.” Rhaenys reached up and played with the sun pendant. And then she was a little girl again and Y/N was reading her a story about talking turtles to help her sleep. “We have to go back to Westeros,” Rhaenys said, voice soft but steady. “They are coming.”

A/N: Please let me know what you think! Your reblogs, likes, and comments mean the world to me!

(and another banner by the lovely @thesadvampire​) 

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @pettyprocrastination @evyiione @elinedjarin @xsadderdazeforeverx @revolution-starter

[ckneal]

About a month ago, I had a fairly random revelation that Lilith was to Lucifer what Adam was to Michael. Not in the sense that she was ever his vessel, as all humans capable of serving that role are purportedly descended from Adam and Eve, and, while it’s never specifically confirmed to be true for the Supernatural universe, most lore surrounding Lilith sets her up as being too old for that.

And I also don’t necessarily mean that Lucifer and Lilith were in love—Lucifer is too egotistical and arrogant for me, personally, to believe he’s capable of a true romantic bond, and it is twice stated that he lost his virginity to Kelly Kline, in settings that leant themselves toward his credibility on this subject (musing aloud to an uncomprehending Kelly in the privacy of their bedroom, and awkwardly grappling for something to say in his first unplanned meeting with Jack, respectively)—leading me to believe that the recognizable sleazy substitute for love (lust) was not present between these two either. But, I do think that there was a connection there, and I do find myself curious about it.

After all, Lilith was willing to die to set Lucifer free from the cage. And yes, I am aware that she had made a deal with Michael to help set off the apocalypse, and she was obligated to carry out her part, but has anyone ever wondered what exactly Lilith got out of the bargain? She’s not exactly written like Eve, from season 6. She is not mothering toward demonkind. I can’t see her sharing Michael’s motivation to bring God back. The one who stood to benefit from her sacrifice, was, in fact, Lucifer. (And Michael, obviously.)

I think that the bond Lilith and Lucifer formed was a bit similar to what Adam and Michael had, in that it came from a lack of choice. I firmly believe that Lilith and Lucifer spent a decent amount of time together in Hell, just the two of them. Likely for a much longer period of time than Michael and Adam did in the cage. We don’t know exactly when Lucifer made Lilith, but we do know that he was out and moving around for awhile after the apple incident that Gadreel was incarcerated for—after all, Cain was a grown man when he caught Lucifer circling Abel and agreed to take the Mark. And bible ages are a little strange, but let’s say that that’s a good couple of decades in earth time. That’s much longer in Hell. Assuming that Lilith was turned prior to Cain, that’s a long time with Lucifer and Lilith being the only two occupants of Hell. (Well, except for Ramsey and her hellpuppies; remember she was pregnant when Lucifer saved her from extinction.)

And I wonder if in that time, the two of them could have developed a begrudging sort of friendship? Just from the forced proximity—Michael was clearly capable of decimating Lilith on sight if she went back to earth, and there weren’t exactly a lot of humans wondering around that early on in the species to provide her with cover—not to mention a meatsuit. She was pretty much stuck there, while Lucifer was presumably laying low, while he got his schemes together. Setting up the horsemen, binding Death, somehow getting and hiding the demon tablet, creating the Princes of Hell, and such. . .Just a lot of stuff, and where he used to have a vast multitude of siblings to talk to, he now just had this snarky little corrupted human soul, and I think—I think—they became friends.

And Lucifer considers this to be the filthiest thing that he’s ever done—on par with the most torrid, disgusting affair that anyone has ever had, and he still hates everything about it to this day. That’s why Lucifer never once talks about Lilith. He is nauseated by the fact that they were the original frenemies, completely disgusted and powerless to resist their intense conversational chemistry, and if they saw each other tomorrow there’s a tiny part of him that will still light up because no one has ever been more thoroughly on his level.

And it’s fucking mutual. If they saw each other tomorrow, they would exchange the most vehement of insults, maybe even physically attack one another, shouting their hatred at full volume—and then a few hours later be spotted at a coffee shop, passionately talking trash on Sam Winchester, and set terrible, terrible plans in motion that will plague Sammy’s life for the next several years. When they part ways, they would both feel intensely dirty, telling themselves that this will never happen again—but Lucifer has never been one to resist temptation, and at 3am finds himself sending that text message he knows he’ll regret later. . . “So what are your thoughts on Dean? ;)” And off they go again, all night long.

And that’s why Lilith was willing to lay down her life to set Lucifer free. And it’s also why she had her moment of doubt, when she nearly got Sam to agree to that demon deal. She had a moment of realizing that she was about to die for an asshole she doesn’t even like.

I personally like to think that Michael was the archangel who nearly came blasting in to defend Chuck that night, when Dean pulled the plug on the deal Sam was about to make (and before you try to tell me that wasn’t a real deal because Lilith was planning a trap—rewatch that scene, Sam was the one who played dirty by reaching for the demon-killing knife; Lilith was busy eyeing his crotch through his jeans and feeling up his chest). After Lilith smoked out of her meatsuit, I like to think that Michael followed her and gave a kind of prep talk, telling her that it’s important that they remember their motivations, shameful though they might be

At which point, Lilith just bursts into tears, crying, “Oh god, you’re right. . .He’s my best friend—how did this happen? How did this—Oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m going to be sick!”

Lilith sobs into Michael’s wings, while Michael is just sort of stuck standing there, because Lilith is gripping one of his four heads with both hands as she cries, while the other three are looking around for help, intensely confused because he, of course, was talking about bringing God back, and now he has no idea what to do to get out of this uncomfortable social situation that he does not understand.

And thinking about Lucifer and Lilith and Michael and Adam as parallels, it gets me asking these questions about how things would go if the roles were reversed. Would Adam willing lay down his life to free Michael from the cage? As a fanfiction writer, I enjoy the idea of saying yes.

In fact, I’m a little enamored with the idea of a parallel world where everything is flipped. Where it’s Michael in the box, and Adam running around breaking seals, Adam on that final, fateful night—after having had his moment of doubt in which he’d lured Ramiel into a secluded spot and offered to stand down and nearly banged Ramiel’s brains out in the bargain—but that’s all past, and now he’s firm in his resolve. Adam standing in front of a mirror—but instead of the white gown that Lilith wore, Adam’s in a black suit, dressed as if it were his wedding day, though he’ll never see his groom. And Raphael appearing at his elbow, looking concerned—instead of some random follower of Lilith’s, and Adam telling Raphael to be happy. Everything is going to be okay.

And it’s Adam reclining against the alter, all serene anticipation as Ramiel—the second Prince of Hell, who rejected his place in the succession because all he wanted was to live out a quiet life with his fishing gear, well away from the Pit and the Life—comes storming into the church with Zachariah at his side, assuring Ramiel that he’s trained for this, he can do it—only to have Azazel come bursting in behind them, shouting, “NO, RAMMY! IT’S WHAT HE WANTS!”

[1ddotdhq]

🌅 Thurs 22 Oct ‘20 🍋

Oh to be looking at the sunset in a lighthouse on the Amalfi coast! Well, if I can’t be there in person, I can at least make myself some golden themed postcards! How, you ask? Well, youraresogolden.com (because youresogolden.com was taken) allows you to make your own postcards with the Amalfi coast in the background. I told my friends that they were “golden”, “lemon over ice”, and “perfect now” (that last one isn’t H I know, I know it’s fiiinnneeee). The postcards have two different backgrounds, one of a cliff overlooking the sea, and one of the road that Harry was seen running on during the filming of the video. Do you think...maybe he’s running to the cliff? And then he’ll jump off? Oh, wait, wrong video, sorry! Anyways, this buildup tells us that Harry’s team is as ready as we are for this video to be available, if the eroda accounts are anything to go by. They posted the same sunny emoji that we did the other day (that’s cheating, guys!) and continue to edit the Eroda website by adding the word “golden” to some of the descriptions of the tourist attractions.

But not everything can be golden, can it? I guess its time to talk about the pigs in the pub: following Celebtm’s rather scathing article, Briana and Nick disabled their accounts, Brett went private, Tammi limited her comments, and deleted every single picture with Nick, including the engagement picture! I say that Briana and Nick have disabled their instagrams rather than deleting because you have the option to temporarily disable your account and reactivate it if you so choose to by logging back in at a later date. I know this because, um, I tried it, and fully locked myself out of my own instagram, just to see what would happen. A few stressful hours, that’s what happened! However, you can easily recover your account after a few hours, and Briana will likely be back. She’s spent too much time and money buying all those followers to throw it all away now, so I would be very surprised if she doesn’t come back when she thinks this has all blown over. It might be a little while longer before this HAS blown over, though, as TMZ picked up yesterday’s article and put it on their platform. We shall see where this goes from there, but goodness knows that TMZ looms large in fandom lore for actively taking on and ridiculing theories around Freddie’s parentage and pushing the narrative of Louis as the happy father back in the day, so for them to post an article actively raising questions concerning Louis’ involvement with Briana and Freddie is pretty exceptional! 

Micheal Straus, the man who claims to be the owner of the boobs that reside in Briana’s chest, came BACK today, in true twitter fashion, with RECEIPTS! Literal ones, as in it also shows his Whole Foods and Walgreens purchases, can you BELIEVE? He can prove that he paid $1500 to a doctor in Beverly Hills, though the reason is not given on the credit card bill he gave to Celebtm. He also told Celebtm to “show her fiance [the receipt]” if he “calls [them] again to say I’m lying”. Did Nick...call Celebtm? Are they going to publish that call too? This is, ACTUALLY, Brand New Information, if you’ll pardon the Friends pun. Michael went on to make some other rather rude comments about Briana, but also refer to himself as the love of her life. Is that enough mama drama for you, H? Because it’s CERTAINLY more than enough for ME! 

Niall kicked off his interview with Ash London with a guitar serenade, then talked about golf (“You can tell that you have a husband,” he tells Ash when correctly identifies golf terminology, which, um. No <3). They also talk about his upcoming show (“it’s going to be...once in a lifetime”) and the logistics of it - the rehearsal will be the whole first week of November, and the set list will mostly be HBW. “It’s about the spectacle,” says Niall, and jokes that he’s gonna show up in full cycling gear. Um, please, PLEASE don’t do that, friend! That’s not a good look on ANYONE! Niall went on to say that, despite wishing that he was on tour, he has enjoyed his time off, and that it lit a fire in his belly. He has also admitted that, for the time being, he will not be putting out any new music because he does not think he can properly roll it out and wants to give it the attention it deserves.

Liam keeps making his rounds on Instagram, promoting his Halloween show and trying out new spooky makeup looks; he’s added a hashtag where you can send in your makeup/costume entry: #LPCostumeComp or #LPMakeUpComp. Hugo has also released a behind the scenes insta story of Liam’s LATAM Esquire shoot, where he’s looking great and smoldering to the camera like a PRO! He looks good, and he looks like he knows it, which, YES!  

Louis remains MIA but a video made by WMA was found and subsequently privated! They were the company behind the social media campaign for the four pre-Walls singles, and the video is three minutes of them hyping themselves up for getting such good fan engagement with their puzzle making skillzzz, but they definitely chose not to mention the way fans actually solved most of their puzzles by bypassing the clues and simply digging into or guessing their code! Finally, Free My Meal stepped up again to ask for the fandom’s assistance to bring attention to the issue of child hunger in the UK following a vote that did not go their way. Louies, of course, stepped up and trended #freemymeal worldwide. After all of the other nonsense happening, I think that this is a solid reminder that there are real things happening in the real world and that this fandom is also capable of showing - and often shows! - kindness on an international scale.

[siswritesyanderes]

This is a series of asks bc, while I do LIKE all the charas of Fantastic Beasts individually, much of the romantic pairings dont sit well with me. By that mean the messy love polygon w Newt & I think I finally figured out why & I'd like another's opinion on it. For starters, Newt's attraction with Tina is too fast for me considering he was friends w Leta, got expelled out of Hogwarts for Leta, carried Leta's photo in his case, & basically loved her for YEARS. But this is all undone by a [1]

jaunt in NY having met a woman, who he admittedly went on a huge adventure w, over the course of maybe a few weeks. He's so taken w her she replaces Leta's photo w her own &, after refusing to go to Paris for Dumbledore, leaves immediately once he finds out she's there. I just find this unbelievable. I can rationalize it from Newt's perspective where Tina is a fresh breeze sweeping into his life on (percieved) unrequited pining, but this is my conjecture based on my understanding of Newt. [2]

The audience shouldnt be left to rationalize endgame couple of the mc on their own. & the whole thing w Leta is so messily handled I dont think they can save it even if they bring her back in FB3. How she feels for Newt vs Theseus & unresolved lingering affection, etc. She & Newt were SO important to each other & we SEE that & they dont HAVE to get together, but they need proper resolution bc they have actual history between them. God Leta in general deserved so much better. [3]

But my main gripe is that this love polygon serves no purpose to what I believe is the main selling point of FB: the world. HP having love stories makes sense bc we're following the story of a boy as he goes through adolescence & his journey through that via school is part of that, which is why the romance feels fitting. It's a very personal story. FB on the otherhand is the best peak we have at the wider wizarding world beyond school. HP introduces the world of magic, but FB rlly expands it [4]

To that end Jakob & Queenie's relationship is the only one I find myself liking, bc it's deeply tied to the world setting, the series' biggest selling point (in my opinion, should have said this earlier). It underscores the attitudes of the period & the conflict they face feels suitably substantial & not like filler. There's a moral question between them of are they worth it? And how far should they go to be together?

Imma be real hear & say FB2 was rlly Queenie's movie & they should have been ballsy & just make Queenie the mc for FB2, bc her story was actually considerably more important to the overall development of the story than Newt's, which mostly came off as a rushed & a tad clichè soap drama. & making it about Queenie I think builds more room for good conflict & independent narrative for Tina that would serve her chara better. [5? 6?]

If I bad to be REAL ballsy, I'd say my big issue w/ the relationships in the FB series & how it enhances or impedes the main story & what I believe to be it's biggest attracter (the setting) could have been solved if they made Newt's romantic interest a muggle. It attaches a deeper meaning & relevance to them & the story so it felt more deeply that they truly moved WITH the narrative rather than beside it but I guess Im just picky. Thx for putting up w this! [Final]

(My response below the cut.)

Yeah, pretty much all of this is right.

Regarding the Tina thing, it was definitely rushed, especially since there was literally nothing romantic between them in the whole first movie, except maybe the end part where they're stumbling over their words. Despite knowing how movies work and knowing that they were the male and female lead, I still found that completely out of left field, because they don't really share any interests and I didn't feel like they felt anything in particular for each other before that. She really wants to be an auror and feels really intensely about it; he just wants to travel the world and write about magical creatures and take care of them. I don't see a lot of compatibility there, and the movie didn't really do anything to reconcile that gap.

Jacob and Queenie made sense, because they actually sowed some seeds for it. It's not even about the fact that they both like to cook; they showed an interest in each other throughout. They noticeably like each other. Newt and Tina never really had that, to me, so it was bizarre for her to become his primary motivation in the second movie.

Queenie's trajectory in movie 2 overall bothers me, so while I agree it would have been better if they'd centered it more around her, I definitely think they needed to drastically rewrite pretty much everything she did. Enchanting Jacob at the beginning never sat well with me; I usually only have to say this in the Descendants fandom, but if one half of the ship is magical and the other half isn't, we can't have the magical one enchanting the non-magical one for romantic reasons without addressing what a violation of trust that is. Like, Jacob would be justified for never trusting her again, over that. Also, the fact that she apparently holds it against people if they think bad things about her is not something I would expect from someone who has been a Legilimens as long as she has, and not a detail I like, at all. Especially since it was used to give her justification to be mad at Jacob after she enchanted him in the first place. I find it sad, because Queenie was definitely my favorite character in the first movie. (Also, joining Grindelwald was a nonsensical thing to do. I can only assume she's there to spy on him or something, because it makes literally no sense.)

As for Leta, I really don't like how that was approached. First of all, I don't like how their mention of her in the first movie was "She was a taker; you need a giver," because once we actually met the character, that only made me resent Queenie for representing her that way. Leta deserved better in pretty much every way, and they definitely shouldn't have killed her off like that. I find the whole situation really iffy from a racial standpoint. The first black character to be written three-dimensionally in all of HP lore, and they make sure to preemptively tell the audience that she's a "taker", kill her in the same movie we meet her, and manage to trivialize her death by turning it into a little "Who was she saying 'I love you' to?" mystery. I like her relationship with Newt and Theseus, and I'd definitely want to see more of it.

Yes, it definitely would have been better, thematically, if they'd made the love interest a Muggle. (I'd honestly say they should've paired Newt with Jacob, but I know they're unwilling to do that. That would be kind of cool, though, to see the movie shaping up with two male characters and two female characters and have the men end up with each other and the women just live their lives as humans.)

With the story they ended up telling, though, I don't think that is needed; since Queenie is already dealing with the wizard/Muggle storyline, Newt could have a different conflict. Maybe his love interest should be a werewolf or something, to tie in the wizarding world's unresolved dislike for "half-breeds". And if he were in a relationship with someone already regarded as a creature, the wider wizarding world might take a different view to his studies and look down on him a lot more. Idk, a thought.

And then, with Leta/Theseus and Grindelwald/Dumbledore (if they were willing to actually deal with that), they'd pretty much hit every controversial beat they've got: wizard/Muggle, wizard/"half-breed", interracial, homosexual. Credence and Nagini are both creatures, kind of, but I still like them together, so their relationship doesn't have to tie into any theme; it just has to be developed way more.

On the whole, Crimes of Grindelwald felt like they skipped a movie. It feels like they needed a middle installment to make these relationships happen, instead of jumping from "Do Newt and Tina maybe have feelings for each other?" to "Newt loves Tina and Tina is possessive enough of Newt to be outwardly upset with him when she thinks he's engaged to someone else," and creating a whole relationship between Credence and Nagini that we see none of.

The fact that Queenie and Jacob were done well in the first movie gives me a fair amount of goodwill for them, but that goodwill only offers enough cushioning from the botching that movie 2 did that I'm near-indifferent to the ship, now, instead of actively opposed. I'd like to see things improved, but as it currently stands, I'd be just as happy seeing them end up not together as together. The fact that Leta's relationships with Newt and Theseus were more interesting than any of the aforementioned makes it that much more ridiculous that they killed her. What ship am I supposed to care about how? If I can't go into the next movie delusionally hoping Newt and Leta will get some moments, or enjoying the Theseus and Leta content, then I'll just be sitting there waiting for Credence and Nagini to share a screen, and who knows when that'll happen?

[razorblade180]

Overall thoughts on V8? Assuming you didn't answer this already.

I meant to do a volume wrap up review but I got incredibly busy and it fell to the waste side. The thing about me judging RWBY I have to come at it from two angles or I won’t feel like I judged it appropriately. There’s the casual, first time seeing the episodes and seeing this through the lens as a casual watcher who probably only sees the episodes once or twice. But then there’s the other side to that coin. I review these episodes, write aus, theorize, check extended lore, listen to the music, etc; that means I have to go back and watch episodes several times for any given reason and that’s when you start noticing the holes or picking up on things you didn’t before.

As a casual watcher, I’d give this an 8/10. There’s plenty of moments where characters do things that got me excited and plot points I wanted explored. This volume actually gave a decent amount of things I wanted for quite some time and some things I didn’t know I needed. Certainly there are things I don’t like in this but I’m open and curious to see where RT takes their storie because it’s their story.

Okay, now as a someone who’s had to deep dive and take a step back multiple times for a variety of reasons. 6.5/10 maybe a 7/10 if I’m being generous. A lot of my problems with this volume are problems that aren’t new to RWBY and that’s just how surface layer portions of arcs are and how a variety of choices/bonds don’t exactly make sense with what we were previously shown, or they only make sense because the writers don’t want introduce other complexities even though they should be there realistically. I’ll give a couple examples of these and yes, I’m aware what I say doesn’t bother everyone but it bothers me.

Qrow was never angry at or brought up Robyn being the reason their airship crashed in the first place because she started the fight; which aids in Clover dying.

Emerald follows Cinder, not Salem. Even if Cinder is working under Salem, why would Emerald be so willingly to complete shift to the side that actively goes against Cinder? There’s been no grand revelation to make Emerald believe Cinder doesn’t give a damn about her. Leaving made sense because she was about to get tortured. Going full turncoat right now doesn’t. No change happened. Emerald always hated being near Salem but adored Cinder no matter the crimes and the show hasn’t done anything to switch that view point.

I’m happy Whitley and Weiss had a touching sibling moment that implies they’re okay and making/made up, but there was never a conversation about the actual problem and thoughts that had them at odds in the first place. Weiss saving his and Willow’s life shouldn’t be the thing that smooths things over. It would’ve been terrible if Weiss do something to save their life. Whitley helping Penny is okay I guess because he really had no reason to contribute but did anyways. Even so, a person doing a morally correct thing doesn’t automatically warrant the conflict between him and Weiss’s resolved.

We got Cinder’s backstory; it didn’t tell us anything about how she eventually came into contact with Salem. Honestly her back story felt more in line of her main goal through the series was an absolute freedom by the means of breaking down the systems that trapped and didn’t give a damn, rather than her quest for power. Yes you can argue gaining power means it’s easier to maintain her freedom to do whatever she wants but I personally think that’s a little off the mark when you gave her a story that involves her trapped by rules and time rather than being too physically weak to gain freedom.

This show has built up that the Schnee family has suffered various types of abuse because of Jacques and uses Weiss as a medium to build towards breaking free from that. Not just overcoming but confronting the abuse by cementing it’s place below you. We don’t really get that. There will never be a moment where the siblings and mother truly get to break out of Jacques grasps emotionally and then put him in his place because he’s dead! Yeah they never have to worry about him again but even last volume they showed Winter still having turmoil and being able to get strung along by him. We don’t even really know how Whitley perceived his father. It feels so lackluster. Then they care to mention how it’s Weiss’s idea to save him like it’s an empowering moment when in actuality, it would be against her character, values of a huntress, and morality to let a person die in cell when you’re the reason they’re in a cell! Letting him die in there would just terrible. I don’t even know why he wasn’t let out in that scene! He’s a coward! He’d follow their orders to save his skin. All he has to do is shut up and walk through a portal.

Ironwood and Oscar both knew they could remove that staff to use it and Atlas wouldn’t drop immediately. Why did nobody have any kind of compromise with one another since there’s nothing stopping them from using the staff for something and then putting it back? They had this morally gray thing going on which I liked but then they decided to make Ironwood go full evil. I’ve never had to say this before but the song he got in V7 and the character they made him be in V8 just don’t connect. I got upset listening to that song recently because I liked that Ironwood.

Clover’s importance. RT tried making a character who had no more than 9 minutes in the series and one meaningful line of dialogue into the cornerstone of a side plot. Clover is such a nothing character. Vine did more than Clover. They try to make him have such a profound impact to the people around him but we never see him bond with his team; Harriet specifically. We get one scene of Clover telling Qrow the kids are fortunate to have Qrow even if he doesn’t think so. First, I doubt Clover knows Qrow decided to get drunk in a ghost town and the kids nearly died and cellar while he did it so that compliment doesn’t hold much weight for me. Second, We see nothing meaningful between the two. V7 has a time skip and just expects viewers to be on board with Clover being this influential change on Qrow without showing anything outside of a witty remark and Clover flexing his semblance. I would’ve bought it more of Qrow almost relapsed and Clover stopped him then had a real meaningful conversation.

Ruby goes against Ironwood only to then want to do a plan that’s aligned to longer term thinking than even his, talks about how everyone should be working together, but then adds a part in her video to actively antagonize and vilify Ironwood. Afterwards, she wonders where everything went wrong and doesn’t think of a plan or do anything to immediately help either kingdom until the final hour between the ultimatum being made, to everything getting destroyed. The inciting incident was disagreeing Mantle should be left in favor of Atlas but the main character didn’t do anything to help Mantle 90% of the season and hindered Atlas’s safety up until the final plan.

Yang is used to be the devil’s advocate in a bunch of situations, but she’s wrong most of the time or her lines just don’t make any sense. They weren’t doing just fine before Atlas. They almost died every step of the way. The team didn’t beat a Leviathan; silver eyes and a robot take credit for that. Why would Blake think less of Yang for wanting to go save people immediately? Blake was never mad at anyone to begin with. Yang consistently calls out people for following orders as if it’s objectively wrong, but is never called out on the fact she hasn’t followed anybody’s orders but her own and added discourse to every situation. I get RT is making her ask questions because that’s what Raven told her to do, but all she’s really doing is picking fights and disobeying every order. Yang states to Ruby they accomplished more than they expected. That’s false, getting Oscar back is correcting a mistake caused by her own plan that she didn’t even complete.

It took 6 volumes before Yang had anything to do with the Summer Rose subplot again and 7 volumes before her and Ruby had a sister to sister conversations; 5 if you wanna count Yang telling Ruby to leave at the end of volume three. The reason I bring this up is because in V8 , they treat their argument as if it’s a big deal but then have every character say it wasn’t that big a deal; but then have two circle back to that conversation later after having neither character discuss to anybody that the argument actually did weigh on them. Yang doesn’t think about Ruby until she sees her again and the closest we get with Ruby is Blake reassuring her that people need her and how Blake admires her. I like that scene but it’s not the same as Ruby actually airing out the specific point that Yang said something that Ruby found hurtful. Vol8 in general people trying to comfort others but nobody ever actually addresses what made them uncomfortable to start with. Except Ren.

This one is a nitpicking but I’ll say it anyways. Penny getting hacked only served as a purpose to go to the vault, a thing Ironwood already wanted them to do. Nobody got her because she was hacked. You can’t even say her getting hacked is the leading factor to her actually dying because Penny became a vulnerable human afterwards that can’t be rebuilt. Pietro was gone, and already stated last volume he doesn’t have the aura to build Penny again. If she died as a robot then it’s still permanent death. No core, no Pietro, and no aura; hacking her was just to create a Hound reveal situation and make them go to the vault on a different set of terms. I’m not exactly upset with this, but I don’t understand why the extra steps. The Hound was hunting her anyways. I would’ve brought some kind of value if she hurt a friend and it caused them to potentially hinder the plan later on or remove them entirely. Penny could’ve rekt Yang and it only adds value to Yang getting one shot later. I don’t know. I’m rambling.

I think I’ve wasted enough people’s time. Honestly, I do like this volume. I’ve enjoyed a bunch of it. But there’s things that legitimately make me think it’s not as good others and makes V7 even worse.

[apocalypseornaw]

Always be Yours- 7

Word Count: 8,000

Story Summary: Inspired by the 2 part I did of the same title. Follows Dean and Reader through season 9 into season 10

Chapter Summary: An old friend of Dean's calls needing help

Warnings: the usual. Cursing, fights and NSFW warning. Some steamy stuff happens

The little talk with Dean or more so the way he worded what he said helped you to push the feelings you thought you’d been developing for him to the side. You decided to blame it on the fact that for weeks you’d only been in close quarters with him, Sam and Kevin. Maybe you just needed to hit a bar and get some tension out of your system. You knew it wouldn’t change how you felt but hoped it may take some of the sting out.

You were curled up on a chair in the corner of the library leafing through one of the lore books on enochian spells hoping maybe just maybe the passage Crowley had translated was wrong. Cas had so much hope in him still that there was a way to help the angels that you refused to give up simply because of him.

You glanced up when Sam called out Dean’s name but knew you were tucked in a far enough corner the only way you’d be spotted was if you let your presence be known. It’d only taken you a week in the bunker to figure out what spots you could actually have a few moments to yourself in and Dorothy letting you all know about the garage only added to that, the night before you hadn’t been able to sleep so you ended up detailing half the classic cars just for something to keep your hands busy.

When he called Kevin then your name you let out a low whistle and saw him jump “Y/N?” you laughed before laying the book down in your chair and stepping around a corner “Looking for me Sammy?” he looked over your shoulder then back at you “Where were you at?” you grinned “Oh that’s for me to know and for you to never find out” he let out a short laugh “Ok then. You seen Dean?” you nodded towards one of the tables “He came in a little while ago and plugged his phone in. He didn’t see me either” the moment you were through speaking the phone started ringing. Sam looked at you so you shrugged “Your brother’s phone, you answer it”

You followed Sam over to the table and he picked up the phone “Hello?” After a moment he said “I’m sorry there’s no dee-dawg here” you looked up when Dean came around the corner saying “I got it, I got it” and grabbed the phone out of Sam’s hand “Sonny, hey so what’s up?” you looked towards Sam for an explanation of who Sonny was but he looked as clueless as you were.

Sam sat on the edge of the table so you leaned across his shoulders while Dean finished talking to whoever Sonny was “All right. Yeah just sit tight, I’ll be there as soon as I can” Once he hung up Sam asked “So what was that all about Dee-Dawg?” Dean took a breath and his eyes flicked towards you before he turned his attention to Sam “Remember when we were kids that spring in upstate New York?” Sam looked a little lost so Dean continued “Dad was on a rugaru hunt, we uh crashed at the bungalow colony with the ping-pong table” Sam nodded “Yeah, uh you disappeared. Dad came back and you were gone” that set off a red flag in your head as to where this story was going because Dean disappearing on Sam? No something unsavory had to have happened. Dean nodded then Sam added “He shipped me off to Bobby’s for a couple months that’s when I first met Y/N because her aunt had dropped her off at Bobby’s for a week. Then dad went off and found you, said you were lost on a hunt or something” hunt? You didn’t think Dean had started solo hunts until he was eighteen or older. 

Your suspicions were confirmed when Dean said “That’s what we told you. Right” you pushed off Sam’s shoulder and tracked Dean’s movements with your eyes “What you told Sam?” Dean shrugged and looked between you both before saying “Truth is, I lost the food money that dad left us in a card game. I knew you’d get hungry so I tried the five finger discount at the local market and got busted. I wasn’t on a hunt they sent me to a boy’s home” “A boy’s home? Like a reform school?” Sam asked. Dean nodded “More or less. It was a farm and the guy who ran it, Sonny..he uh looked after me” 

“Does Sonny know what you do?” you questioned and Dean nodded again “Yeah. he’s good people. I gave him the number to the bat phone and it sounds like he’s got something in our wheelhouse. So” Dean turned to walk out then stopped and looked back at Sam “You gonna be cool to do this or are you too tired?” Sam was mid yawn but said “Yeah, I’m just I’ll be fine” Dean looked over Sam at you so you nodded that you thought Sam was ok then inwardly groaned when Dean asked “So everybody is ok with heading out to the catskills?” 

Sam looked back at you “I think he’s talking to you” you smiled “Yeah, I’m good Dean” and hoped he got the point when you shot him a look when Sam turned back around. “All right, grab your stuff then we’ll all head out” before Dean could walk out Sam asked him “Why not just tell me you were sent to a boy’s home” Dean shrugged “It was dad’s idea then the story became the story. I was sixteen” then walked out to grab his gear. Sam looked back at you for help so you said “I don’t know either Sam. We were twelve at the time. Aunt Lena always said John could’ve done better by you two even with him choosing to be a hunter and I more than agree” Sam nodded then stood up “Well let’s grab our stuff so we can head out”

------

You sat in the backseat of the impala quiet for most of the drive only arguing with Dean over the radio a couple times. When he pulled onto the gravel road that had a farmhouse at the end and a sign that read “Sonny’s home for boys” you sat up straighter and grabbed your jacket to pull on. You were about to see a part of Dean’s past even Sam hadn’t been privy to before that moment.

You walked around the back of baby looking around at the property while Sam told Dean “You were here for two months and dad couldn’t find you?” You turned to look at them when Dean said “Oh, no. He found me. He found me quick. But he left me here cause I lost our money” “You were sixteen! You made a mistake” you quickly argued refusing to let Dean’s self deprecating nature win out yet again. 

“Yeah, I made the mistake. Look I know how you two think. None of this was dad’s fault” Sam rolled his eyes and looked at you so you took the opening to say “Just as quickly as he dumped Sam off at Bobby’s for the couple months he could’ve left you both there to go after the rugaru” then walked towards the house leaving both of them to have to catch up with you.

------

You knocked before Dean even made it to be standing next to you. He looked your way but you simply met his gaze refusing to give on what you’d said. A woman answered and crossed her arms looking between the three of you “What can I do for you?” Dean smiled “I’m Dean, this is my brother Sam and this is our friend Y/N. We’re old buddies of Sonny’s” “You boys prison buddies?” she asked and you stifled a laugh considering Dean had once been on the FBI’s most wanted list. Dean shook his head “No, uh you mind telling him we’re here?” She nodded “I’ll go get him”

She opened the door then looked down at the fact that all three of you were wearing boots. “I just mopped this floor so off with the roach stompers” you bent to pull your boots off while she walked away to find Sonny. “So Sonny’s an ex con huh?” Sam asked and Dean scoffed “What? Like we’re such angels?” you raised an eyebrow at Sam “Lena spent two years when she was in her early twenties Sammy. Someone’s past doesn’t define them”

Dean tilted his head at you and added “Trust me, like Lena he’s more than made up for it” You followed Dean into the house with Sam right behind you.

------

You were standing between the two of them when who you were guessing was Sonny walked around the corner with a smile “Dee-Dawg” Dean smiled before the two of them hugged and Dean said “Sonny, good to see you man” “You too brother” Sonny replied. When they pulled apart Sonny looked at Sam first “You must be Sam” 

Sam offered his hand and the two of them shook “Good to meet you” “Back at you brother” then Sonny looked at you “And this must be Y/N” you smiled and shook Sonny’s hand “Nice to meet you” he smiled “You too ma’am”

“Farm looks nice” Dean said and Sonny scoffed “Please man, it’s barely standing. Only got a handful of kids working around here now” “Why’s that?” Dean asked and Sonny shook his head “Cause these days the system would rather incarcerate a boy then redeem him” Sam looked off and you followed his sight to see the lady that had let all of you in but you weren’t sure if something was wrong until he said “Hey Sonny, um you mind if we talk alone?” 

Sonny got the message so he looked back at the lady “Hey Ruth, would you please go check on the boys? Make sure their morning chores are getting done?” When she walked away Dean asked “So, what’s happening?” Sonny took a breath then said “You remember Jack don’t you?” Dean nodded “Yeah the tough old leatherneck” “Well somehow that ancient,rusty broken-down tractor just roared to life and ran him over the other night” “Maybe it slipped out of park?” Sam offered but Sonny shook his head “Couldn’t have. You know I never believed any of this mumbo-jumbo stuff you all are into, but something ain’t right”

“What do you mean?” you questioned and Sonny explained “Well just things started happening. You know, flickering lights on and off, strange scratching coming from inside the walls. Window and doors slamming” you nodded “Yeah sounds like an us thing” “Think you can round up the boys while we take a look around?” Dean asked and Sonny nodded “Shouldn’t be a problem, most are home on breaks. Well, except for the ones with no home worth going to” you didn’t miss the way he looked at Dean when he said that last part. 

Sonny left to round up the boys so Dean turned back to you and Sam “Sam, why don’t you take the house? Me and Y/N will take the barn” “Yeah” Sam replied meeting your eyes before you turned to follow Dean out the door. You both stopped long enough to slip your boots back on then you followed him down the steps.

------

“So what was it like?” you asked walking into the barn behind him. He shrugged without turning around “Ok, I guess” you felt like there was a lot he wasn’t saying but you knew Dean well enough to know forcing him to talk simply wasn’t an option. 

You stopped when you saw the tractor in question and grimaced at the dark stains that you knew were blood. You saw Dean pull the emf detector out of his jacket pocket and watched it once he fired it up to see if it gave any reaction. The moment he turned it on it started going insane. He looked towards you then said “All right Casper, where are you at?”  

You walked next to him further in the barn then heard a little kid laughing, both of you following the sound. Dean knew the layout of the barn better than you so for once you had no complaints about having to let him take the lead. He slid open another door and waited for you to follow him through. “Hello?” you called out once both of you were into the other part of the barn. There was no response so Dean tried “Anybody here?”

You pointed behind Dean and he spun around to see the kid that had seemingly popped up out of nowhere behind him “Hey kid, what are you doing in here by yourself?” Dean asked him and his response? “Fighting monsters” ok point for the kid considering that’s what you and Dean were currently doing. “What kind of monsters sweetie?” you asked and he smiled and showed you the action figure in his hand “All sorts with Bruce the monster smasher” 

The little action figure was complete with cape and all. You weren't going to say anything but leave it to Dean to point out “Is that a cape? Little impractical for smashing monsters huh?” “Yeah flannel doesn’t sell as well” you muttered and Dean gave you a small shrug “Just saying”

The little boy hit the button on Bruce and it said “I clobber evil” Dean chuckled lightly “I bet you do” then held his hand out “I’m Dean and this beautiful lady with me is Y/N” you rolled your eyes at Dean but smiled when the little boy said “I’m Timmy” “Nice to meet you Timmy” you told him but when he shook Dean’s hand he barely gripped his fingers so Dean tilted his head then squatted down “Let’s try that again. If you’re gonna be a man you gotta learn to shake like one” He offered his hand to Timmy again “Give me your best kung fu grip” Timmy did what he said and Dean nodded “Good. Now look me straight in the eye. Let me know that you mean business and shake as hard as you can” you tried to look anywhere in the barn but at Dean being downright fatherly but good lord you were only human. 

Timmy’s smile got even bigger so Dean asked “Timmy, did you know Jack who worked here?” When he said that Timmy’s smile dropped “Uh huh” so you squatted down next to Dean “What can you tell us about him?” “He yelled a lot. He was yelling when he had his accident”

“How do you know that?” Dean questioned and Timmy replied “Because me and the other boys were playing here when it happened” “Did you see anything?” you asked but Timmy shook his head so you added “Is there anything about that night that you can remember? Anything at all” 

You could see the kid thinking hard about his answer before he finally spoke “It suddenly got really cold..Can I go? I’ve got to finish my chores before Ms Ruth gets mad?” Dean chuckled softly “Man that Ruth she runs a tight ship right? Yeah you better roll” Timmy ran out so you stood up and looked around the barn “Have there been any deaths here before Jack?” Dean shook his head “None that Sonny knows about anyways” you let out a breath “Well looks like we’ve got to figure out just who is haunting this place before we can figure out the why”

Dean nodded so you bumped him lightly with your shoulder and nodded towards where Timmy had left “You were good with him Dean” He scoffed “Please, he was probably just focusing on you the entire time he was talking to me” “No that was all you Winchester” you replied with a smile as the two of you headed back towards the house.

------

Ms Ruth had told Sam about the previous owners of the farm Howard and Doreen Wasserlauf and the fact that when Jack worked as a farm hand for the couple Howard got it into his head that Jack and Doreen were having an affair. He tried to kill them both but Jack got away, Doreen wasn’t so lucky. Howard had died in prison the year before and had always sworn he’d get his revenge on Jack so that led all three of you to Howard’s final resting place.

You sat on the edge of the grave watching as the boys shoveled dirt out. All three of you couldn’t fit and there was no part of you that wanted to get stuck between two guys their sizes. “Why don’t one of you take a break and let me shovel for a bit?” you offered so Sam held his shovel out “Have at it” you hopped down in the hole next to Dean and Sam pulled himself up to stand next to the headstone.

You felt your back bump into Dean’s but there was more room with the two of you digging than with him and Sam. Sam was quiet for a few moments the only noise the sound of the two of you shoveling dirt until he finally spoke to Dean “So, dad didn’t want you to tell me. How come? Was this place really that bad” Dean shrugged cutting his eyes towards you before he said “I don't know. I don't really remember. Look, nobody bad touched me. Nobody burned me with their smokes or beat me with a metal hanger. I call that a win” you stopped shoveling long enough to say “Fuck your standards are low arent they?”  Your shovel hit the casket so you reached for Sam’s hand and he helped you up out the hole then hopped back in next to Dean.

You handed Dean the salt and Sam the lighter fluid out of your bag. After they’d salted and soaked the corpse they both climbed out to stand next to you so you lit the match and flicked it in “Bye Howard” 

------

Dean decided that you and Sam had to try the banana pancakes at Cus’s place. While you and Sam were looking at the menu you glanced up and saw that Dean was looking at the woman working the counter and felt your heart fall. Fuck you had to find someway to get over whatever feelings you’d developed for him with a friendship still intact for Sam’s sake if nothing else.

You dropped your eyes down and pulled your phone out with the excuse of checking your emails. Maybe Garth or the Banes twins needed some assistance with a hunt. That would give you an excuse to hit the road without the boys freaking because you’re hunting alone amidst everything with the angels and Abaddon.

The woman in question walked over and you glanced up long enough to see her name was Robin. “Welcome to Cus’s what can I get you three today?” Dean had that patent smile in place so you rolled your eyes at him but refused to be rude to her. “Bet you never thought you’d see me here huh?” Dean asked her but you’d turned your attention to Sam where the two of you were debating splitting a breakfast plate since neither of you were exactly starving.

She brushed him off “Look, I’m a little bit slammed right now. Do you want to hear the specials?” you cut your eyes at Sam who was just as intrigued by whatever you and him were missing between Dean and Robin as you were. “Robin.. Dean Winchester? I used to live at Sonny’s?” “Oh, look sorry there’s just so many boys that pass through there it’s hard to remember every name and face” she looked towards you and Sam so you nodded “Oh I get it believe me”

You almost felt bad when Dean looked embarrassed “No, it’s fine. I remember you coming with your mom up there when she’d give guitar lessons. It was a long time ago” Robin smiled and you had to admit she was really pretty “Yeah mom loved helping out the boys. I guess that;s why I kept giving lessons after she passed” a woman from the back called Robin so she excused herself by saying “I’ll be right back”

“Dude!” Sam started but Dean cut him off “Let’s go” before you or Sam could react Dean was grabbing his jacket and walking out so you rushed to follow Sam behind him.

------

Once all of you were outside Sam asked “Dude, what was that?” you were just as curious but Dean said “Nothing” and his phone ringing saved a lot more awkwardness even though Sam being the perpetual little brother was asking you who you thought the waitress was. Dean shook his head and answered his phone “Sonny?” you and Sam both dropped any teasing when he said “What?”

------

Ms Ruth had drowned in the bathtub and according to Sonny he tried to get in to save her but the door wouldn’t open. When Sam questioned if it could’ve been locked Sonny shook his head and explained that there were no locks on the farm. “That means our little field trip to the cemetery was a bust” you uttered feeling like you always did when someone was lost on a hunt. You hated losing people.

Dean nodded “Sonny, is there anything else weird you can remember?” “What, cause we’re not chest deep in weird already?” you smoothed a hand through your hair “I know but Dean means anything like at all that you’d consider weird or out of the ordinary?” Sonny glanced away but you could see when a thought occurred to him “There was one thing. Ruth always had her rosary beads with her but now I can’t find them anywhere” “All right um let’s start with the vics ok?” Sam offered so you nodded “Both lived in the house, worked closely with the boys”

Dean agreed and said “Well let’s have a chat with the rugrats Y/N. See what’s up” You and him left Sonny and Sam in the yard and headed up the hill towards the house. 

------

You could hear the boys taunting Timmy before you ever saw them. Calling him a weirdo and asking if he was going to cry. You saw when it hit Dean that big brother instinct kicking in to the fullest. When you walked around the corner two bigger boys had Timmy shoved against the house so Dean hollered “Hey, hey. Hey!”

He pushed one back and snatched the other away from Timmy “What are you doing? Come here” You stood back choosing to let Dean handle the situation. He looked back towards Timmy and asked what was going on. Timmy didn’t respond so Dean turned to the older boys “All right you two where were you this morning when Ruth had her accident?” They looked at him then shook their head “Unless you’re a cop, We don’t need to tell you anything” You happened to have your badge in your jacket pocket so you flipped it out and whistled to get their attention “He’s my partner boys so speak”

Dean smiled smugly as the bigger of the two said “We weren’t even here this morning. Sonny sent us into town to get chicken feed. We swear” They seemed genuine enough but you still asked “What about Ruth? What can you tell us about her?” the boy who hadn’t spoken yet said “We used to call her the warden. She was a real bible thumping hard ass” way to speak about the dead before she was even cold but you let it go. “Obviously, what else. Anything different or weird?” “You mean besides Timmy?” The bigger boy joked and you narrowed your eyes at him before Dean said “Either of you touch him ever again. I’m gonna go all guantanamo on you and I’m the good cop here. Understand me?” they looked back at you so you smiled sweetly to push Dean’s point. “Now get the hell out of here you little rats”

They ran off so you and Dean checked on Timmy. He said he was ok so you headed inside to find Sam.

------

You were helping Sam go through records when a scream ripped out so Dean and Sonny ran outside to check on the boys. Robin hadn't long showed up to start her weekly guitar lessons. “You know Dean was Sullivan county’s one hundred and thirty five pound wrestling champion when he was here?” you looked up from the file in your hand “Really? You know I’m thinking he remembers more here than he’s letting on and I’m betting his time here was good”

Time passed and Dean walked back in the door “Kids good, gonna need about eight thousand stitches” “That kid was bullying Timmy before the accident right?” Sam asked and you knew where he was headed because he’d already bounced the idea off of you. You held out the file Sam had shown you “Timmy was found in an abandoned building a year ago by himself. No one was sure how long he’d been there” “What about his parents?” he asked handing the file to Sam “Well, they posted a picture on the internet but no one ever showed up”

The working idea was ghost possession which meant shoving salt down the kids throat for a forced ejection. Dean sent you back to the barn with Sam while he looked through the house.

------

Inside the barn you found a little hideout in the loft of it. In that hideout you found drawings which basically told you Timmy’s entire story, showing a wreck and how he’d come to be alone.

“We need to tell Dean” you said and Sam nodded in agreement.

------

The moment you and Sam were walking into the backdoor Dean and Robin were running towards you “Go!” you reached for the door but it was locked. “Damn it” Dean hollered so you ran to the cabinet and grabbed the salt then threw it at Sam “Circle!” so he set about making a circle around Robin.

“Dean, what just happened in there?” Robin asked. You shook your head “Robin just whatever happens don’t leave this circle” she looked at Dean then back at you and nodded.

Timmy walked into the entryway “I can’t control her” “Who?” Dean asked but you knew the answer “Your mom right?” Dean looked at you for an explanation when Sam asked Timmy to tell you both about the fire. Him recounting what happened broke your heart for the kid but the fact remained his mom was the ghost killing people and from what he told Dean his action figure was the anchor so Dean turned the oven on and threw the action figure into the flame as you pushed Timmy to Robin inside the circle.

Turned out it was in fact not the action figure but Timmy himself working as the anchor. Dean managed to get through to Timmy so he could break the anchor and let his mom go. You ran to check on both boys once she let them go. “I’m good” Dean grunted and Sam nodded.

You watched as Timmy’s mom finally got to move on with a small smile then he ran to you and Dean and threw his arms around you both.

------

You tried not to watch Dean and Robin but failed. Sam put his arm around your shoulders where you both stood next to baby “You good?” “Peachy”

All of you said your goodbyes to Sonny then hit the road.

------

You were sitting quietly in the backseat until Dean cleared his throat “Anybody up to stop for the night?” you still had a few states to go so you said “Why not?”

He pulled off at the next exit and stopped at the first motel which was the bluebird inn. He glanced your way in the mirror “What’d you think?” you shrugged “Dean you and Sam have slept in baby and I’ve slept in my jeep. This is a five star resort simply because if we have to sleep in here I’m taking the whole backseat and you two can fight over the front” He grinned “Here it is then”

You helped Sam gather the bags while Dean got a room then you both followed him. He unlocked it and you started to simply collapse onto one of the beds but the shower was calling your name. “First shower!” you announced running to the door before Dean and playfully stuck your tongue out at him when you got there first.

--------

While you were in the shower Sam went on a food run,him and Dean were eating when you stepped out the bathroom. “Who wants it next?” Sam had less food than Dean so he closed his plate “I’m next”

You sat across from Dean at the small table and picked at your food. “Something wrong sweetheart? I’ve seen you order orange chicken every time we get chinese” you shook your head “Guess I’m more tired than hungry, which Winchester do I get the pleasure of listening to snore tonight?”

"I can take the couch” he offered and you rolled your eyes “Just for that now you must share a bed with me” he grinned “Is that so?” “Yes it is” you teased and by the time Sam got out of the shower you were already curling up under the blanket on the bed nearest the bathroom. “Night Sammy” “Night Y/N”

-----

You were half asleep when Dean climbed into the bed behind you “Y/N, it’s a little cold but I don’t want to get punched here” he whispered so you lifted the blanket and felt his feet bump the back of your legs so you rolled over to look at him “I can sleep however which position do you prefer?” he smiled at you “There are so many ways I could answer that but I’m taking the win that you’re finally in a bed with bed” you rolled your eyes and said “Goodnight Dean” “Night sweetheart”

You closed your eyes and felt him trying to get comfortable without invading your side of the bed so you opened one eye and threatened “If you do not go to sleep I will sleep on you dammit” “I’m in the room!” Sam groaned and you laughed realizing what you’d said “Sorry Sam but your brother is a fucking wiggle worm over here. Not like I’m the first woman that’s been in bed with him”  “First one I know will kick my ass if my hand slips” Dean muttered and you looked up at him. He was so damn close and you could smell that scent of leather and gunpowder that always seemed to cling to him and it took everything in you to not close the space between your lips.

"Y/N about what Charlie said.." You closed your eyes at the wave of embarrassment that came along with those words. Christ he knew, he knew and had flirted or tried to flirt with Robin in front of you. How much of a sign did you need that he'd never feel the same about you, you'd always be his little brother's best friend to him. "Can we just go to sleep?" You begged quietly both of you trying to keep your voices down as to not disturb Sam again.

You felt his fingers lightly brush across your cheek "If you open your eyes for me and just listen I'll gladly go to sleep after I say what I want to" you slowly opened your eyes and took a deep breath before meeting those green eyes you loved so much. "Dean I'm not some kid you can just say you don't feel the same ok?"

"What if I do though?" Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you weren't sure if you'd heard him right so you asked "What?"

"It's took me a little while to figure it out but sweetheart living in close quarters with you, hunting with you... I've got to see another part of you. I've always known you were smart and a damn good hunter but you're also the type of woman to make everyone dance in the kitchen first thing in the morning. You can make Sam laugh at any given moment and you make me talk about things going on inside my head when anyone would else would give up at it. You can comfort someone one moment and scare the fucking hell out of a demon the next. You're beautiful when you first wake up and a knockout when you go undercover and I really want to kiss you right now but.." You cut him off by pressing your lips against his.

The momentary surprise of you kissing him wore off quickly. You felt when he shifted slipping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. His lips moved against you gently, savoring the feeling.

A noise from Sam's bed made you pull apart quickly and you both looked over to see he was actually fast asleep and had just knocked a pillow off the bed. Dean let out a low laugh leaning his forehead over onto your chest "Guess that's our cue to get some sleep?" He asked leaving a light kiss on your throat before looking back up at your face.

You nodded trying to get your voice to work correctly "Um how do you want to sleep?" He settled onto his back and pulled you over to be laying on his chest. Your hand smoothed across the black t-shirt he was wearing trying to slow your brain down a bit to process what had just happened. "Already regretting wanting me?" He asked with the hint of a smirk but you could hear the actual hesitation under the sarcasm. You shook your head and laughed "Was just thinking Sam's reaction if he'd woke up to us kissing in the bed across from him" "He would've thrown something at us both" he joked then lightly kissed your forehead "Get some sleep. If you still want this come morning then we'll tell Sammy"

You fell asleep from the feeling of his fingers gently moving through your hair. 

-------

Sam whispering "So are you two finally together now or what?" to Dean was the first thing you heard when you started to wake up the next morning. You almost had the urge to remain quiet to see what Dean would say but instead you spoke as you stretched "Unless he's already changed his mind" making both of them look your way with a guilty expression. 

Dean was standing at the foot of Sam's bed repacking his bag and winked at you "Oh no Sweetheart. I'm a lot harder to get rid of than that" you smiled sleepily then cut your eyes at Sam "Unless you want to see me kiss your brother I suggest you make the coffee run" Sam laughed and grabbed the keys to baby "I'll grab breakfast too while I'm out" 

Dean watched him walk out then turned around and looked at you "So I got offered a kiss?" "Come get it" you replied and he grinned walking over to the bed. He slowly climbed onto the bed bracing his weight on his arms as he hovered over you "Good morning" he said before ducking his head down to catch your lips in a tentative kiss. 

You slid your arms up around his shoulders to pull him closer as he deepened the kiss. When you pulled away to catch your breath he moved down to your neck nudging at it until you moved enough to give him complete access. He kissed across it licking then nipping at the places that pulled a response out of you. When he bit down gently on your pulse point you let out a low moan "Fuck, do that again" he growled against your skin biting down just a little harder. You bucked your hips up against his letting out a light gasp when he ground down into you "Dean, christ either we've got to stop or this is going to go further than a few kisses" 

He made his way back up to your face and this time when he kissed you it was more possessive but just as gentle "I don't want you thinking that's all I'm after here" he whispered against your lips letting one hand trail down your side smiling at the little shiver you gave when his fingertips slid under your shirt and brushed across the bare skin. "And I'm happy about that Dean, really I am but waiting is easier said than done when you're touching me" he chuckled darkly then looked up at your face "Well what do you want to do here sweetheart? Because I'm yours no matter if we have sex or if we wait. You're stuck with me now"  

You took a few deep breaths then nodded "As much as I'd love to, I kind of don't like the idea of Sam waiting outside in the car for us to finish?" He smiled and kissed you once more "Fine by me. I'll let you get dressed and be a gentleman about it" he climbed off the bed and you saw him readjust himself in his jeans and had to stifle a laugh. He cut his eyes back at you "Laugh now sweetheart but the moment you tell me you want to, I'm going to do my best to make it hard on you to walk for a few days" you bit your lip at the promise and right before he walked outside you said "Well we are headed back to the bunker where we have two different bedrooms we can break in"  he winked at you then stepped out the door shutting it behind himself.

------

The ride back to the bunker you rode in the backseat as usual despite Sam's offer to switch seats. You didn't plan for that much to change about the dynamic you'd built with the boys. Just because you were now with Dean didn't change anything, did it?

You must have fell asleep at some point because the next thing you knew Dean was gently shaking your shoulder "Come on sleeping beauty, we're home"

You rolled your eyes then sat up straighter "Sam already head inside?" He nodded "We stopped to grab some food so he went to round Kevin up" You climbed out and reached back in for your bag but Dean beat you to it. You eyed the bag and he shrugged “Oh come on Y/N. You can let me shove my tongue down your throat but you wanna argue about me carrying your bag?” “Fair enough” you replied and was rewarded with one of those smiles that always made your heart flip. He held his hand out so you took it and let him lead the way inside.

-------

The moment the two of you made it into the interior door you heard Kevin say “I honestly thought they were already sleeping together” You stopped dead in your tracks and cleared your throat “Excuse me?” Kevin glanced up to see you and Dean standing at the head of the stairs and the guilt was clear on his face. He grinned then gathered his food “As I was telling Sam I am mid marathon on Netflix so I am going back to my room” you watched him scamper away and couldn’t help but laugh. Times like that you were reminded just how young he still was and it hurt your head to think about everything the kid had been through.

You followed Dean down the stairs and took your bag from him “I’m going to go put my stuff away, you two leave me some food” 

------

Dean watched you walk down the hall then looked back to see Sam was watching him. “What Sammy?” “Nothing, just you two are good together. I’ve seen it for a while” Sam answered with a shrug then grabbed his own bag and food “I’m going to go put my stuff away and grab a shower” “You headed to bed this early?” Dean questioned but Sam shrugged once again “Heading to bed, making sure I don’t stumble upon my brother and best friend in a compromising position however you want to put it”

------

You stepped out of your room and headed back towards the kitchen expecting to find Sam at the table but Dean was sitting alone and glanced up when you walked in. “I know Kevin retreated but where’d Sam get off to?” “Something about not wanting to catch us in a compromising position” he replied, taking a sip of the beer in his hand. 

Since Dean had already voiced the fact that he was concerned if the two of you slept together this soon you’d think he was only after sex you tried to act as if you’d thought about anything else besides how his lips felt on your skin. You walked to the fridge trying to ignore the way his eyes tracked your movement as you grabbed a beer out then walked back over to the table. “So what he thinks now we won’t be able to be around each other without you trying to throw me down on the nearest flat surface?”  Dean’s eyes skimmed up your body, biting his lip before he finally said “Something like that”

You took a sip of the beer and tried to look anywhere but at Dean as you said “So if I suggested we go to your room?” He was on his feet and to your side before you got the question out completely “I mean if you want” you took another swig of the beer then sat it down on the counter “Let me rephrase myself. Dean, can we go to your room now?” He smirked then pulled you into his arms capturing your lips in a lingering kiss full of unspoken promises. When he broke away from your lips leaving you a bit breathless he said “Lead the way sweetheart”

------

You stumbled into Dean’s door both of you working to kick your shoes off without breaking the kiss. Once you were inside he shut the door then pushed you back against it. He pulled back from you, both of your chests heaving slightly “Are you sure about this Y/N? About me?” “Just shut up and kiss me Dean” you replied with a slight laugh.

His hands went to the hem of your shirt and he hesitated for a moment before pulling it over your head letting it drop out of his hands once he had you bared. He started at your neck kissing down your jaw then across your collarbone savoring every sound he was able to pull from your lips. When he closed his mouth over your clothed breast you let out a low moan “Dean, bed please” he smiled against your skin and you felt his hands slide across your ass before he gripped your thighs to pull you up into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist capturing his lips in a messy kiss.

He walked the few steps to the bed then lowered you down onto it before pulling back long enough to pull his own shirt off then he climbed back onto the bed hovering over you. “I’ve wanted this for a while” he confessed, leaning his head down to kiss across your chest. “So have I” you whispered not trusting your voice to speak much louder. He chuckled then you felt his hands slide around you so you lifted up far enough he could unsnap your bra then he threw it somewhere behind him.

“Look at you, so damn beautiful” he murmured rolling your left nipple into his mouth teasing it with his tongue and teeth. “Oh fuck, Dean” you moaned tangling your fingers into his hair. He switched sides giving the right breast the same attention. You bucked your hips up against his and could feel how hard he already was through your jeans. “Use your words princess” he teased as he moved to leave a trail of open mouthed kisses across your stomach stopping just shy of the top of your jeans. “I need you” you whimpered not caring how desperate you sounded in that moment. Dean kissed your hip then moved to unsnap your jeans “Lift your hips for me baby” you did as he asked and felt the cool air hit your skin as he pulled the jeans off your legs and dropped them to the floor. A small part of you registered the fact that you were left completely bared to him but the rest of you could only concentrate on how Dean looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on. “If I do anything you don’t like, tell me ok?” he asked and you nodded. He winked at you before lowering his head down to lick into you. Your hips arched off the bed at the feeling but one of his arms snaked across your waist to hold you in place “Lay back and enjoy it sweetheart” he cooed before flicking his tongue across your clit and you felt the pressure in your stomach start to build. He slid one finger into you followed by another curling them up until they found that spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back. He kept pace with his tongue and fingers working you over that edge. When you came with a moan of his name on your lips he greedily lapped up your juices letting out a groan that vibrated through your core. 

When you became too sensitive you pushed his head away so he kissed his way back up your body until he got to your lips, kissing you sloppily and allowing you to taste yourself on him. “Please let me fuck you baby” he begged and christ hearing Dean Winchester sound like that was nearly enough to push you over that edge again   “Take your jeans off” you spoke and he quickly stood up long enough to push his jeans down off his hips then he climbed back onto the bed keeping his weight on his arms. You looked between you and felt your eyes widen slightly at his girth. He pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss “One more time, you’re sure?” you nodded “Yes Dean” He lined himself up with your entrance and you both let out a moan at the feeling of him slowly pushing into you.

Once he was completely sheathed inside of you he stilled letting you adjust to his size while he kissed down your neck. Once the sting of him stretching you gave way to the pleasurable fullness of him you moved your hips against his “Move baby” he started slowly rolling his hips into yours making your back arch off the bed at the feeling. “Dean, oh god” you moaned and that spurred his movements on. He snapped his hips forward into yours ripping a scream of pleasure from your lips. “Fuck you feel fucking amazing Y/N. God damn why didn’t we do this sooner” he groaned changing his angle just enough so that every thrust of his hips rubbed across that spot inside of you. “Right there Dean..oh fuck please don’t stop” you begged as your nails dug into his back. “Wasn’t planning on it” he grunted, keeping his pace the same as he slammed into you. You could feel that pressure building again and you must have clenched around him because he kissed your neck and said “Go ahead and come for me again baby. I won’t be far behind” his fingers came down to rub tight circles onto your clit and that was all it took to push you over the edge.

Your vision went soft around the edges as your second orgasm washed over you. You felt Dean’s hips falter as his thrusts started to become more frantic chasing the release. “Do I need to pull out?” he asked between gritted teeth. “No, I’m covered” you breathed, feeling yourself getting close to a third orgasm. He buried himself deep inside of you with one final thrust and the feeling of him coming coating inside of you pushed you over that edge again. “Holy hell Y/N” he spoke leaning his forehead over onto your chest while both of you worked to get your breathing back to normal. “Right back at you” you said then grimaced when you noticed the angry red claw marks littering his back “Shit, I marked the hell out of you Dean” He raised his head to glance over his shoulder at the marks and a grin slipped onto his face “Good, like I said I’m yours Y/N. Might as well mark your territory” you shook your head with a laugh that turned into a gasp when he pulled out of you. He reached down and found his shirt to use as a means of cleaning you both up. Once you were both as good as you could get he laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms “So, did I disappoint?” he asked and you cut your eyes up at him “Remind me to kick your ass for that question when the feeling comes back fully in my legs” he chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips “Sure thing baby”

Tags: @facadeformyrealblog @akshi8278

[greenteabtch]

your characterizations of sebastian are so interesting and got me thinking! how does meeting helena impact seb? does he go through some kind of development in his relationship to the chantry over their years? what point in terms of self-image would you love for him to get to?

Hi Gabi!! Thank you for asking :) you’re about to enter the #Deep Sebastian Lore. 

So before I begin to tackle this, I feel like it’s important to acknowledge that there are many different interpretations of Seb’s character. I consider him a lot more malleable in final interpretation than a lot of the da2 companions because his Rivalry and Friendship route actually results in two very different outcomes with regards to primary characterization. (Other characters like Merrill also have this, but I personally don’t consider a rivalry route with her or Isabela to be healthy or done well in any valid manner of speaking so I do not see it I am looking away.)

As a quick sum, Sebastian’s Friendship path commits him further to the chantry and quells his disagreement and conflict with his role as a brother, thus making him more complacent, while his Rivalry path spurs him to reclaim Starkhaven by encouraging him to give in to his dissent and impulses, eventually making him more headstrong.

Both of these are valid because each character trait that gets emphasized, depending on the path, all make up the whole of Sebastian as he is. He is compassionate, pious, and faithful, but also rash, stubborn, and witty. 

This is all set up to say that in my personal canon, I follow the rivalry path because it aligns the best with my personal experiences and identity, as well as (in my opinion) encourages Sebastian to fulfill his wants best. Unlike other rivalry paths, it is able to encourage growth and development in a manner that isn’t harsh and abusive, as it targets his ideas and ideology taught to him rather than his personality or integral core as a person. I like that it inspires him to question the chantry as an institution while maintaining his faith in a personal way.

In addition to that, (cw for mentions of neglect and abuse) the rivalry path allows him to take his faith, and his expression of that, into his own hands. From a young age, The Vaels believed that their youngest son of three, Sebastian, was a disgrace to the family name, and would be a weight around his brothers' necks. According to the wiki, Sebastian had always had faith but it was not his will to enter the chantry. His short story implicates how drastic the situation was for him, as he describes the Chantry as a prison, his room as a cell, the guard as his jailor, and even more, but notes how he is still wont to pray to Andraste for his safe escape. Even so, when he is given the “opportunity” (It doesn’t feel like a true opportunity, as I read it, but I digress) to leave, he is trapped, stuck by his parents’ descriptions of himself and what he will be if he chooses to leave. “Words race through my head: useless, aimless, selfish, alone.”

Because of this, I don’t truly believe that it is necessary for him to recommit his vows of chastity, poverty, or any others as a brother in order to stay true to his faith or his character. Traumatized by his parent’s neglect for him as the son “left in the cold,” for they already had the “heir and the spare”, Sebastian was forced to accept his position as one that would never be of value to his parents, purely because of his order of birth. He was resigned to be worthless (which, I honestly think was the reason he acted out so heavily as a youth), till his parents gave him an out by committing himself to the Chantry. As a result, I connect the friendship path of staying as a brother as one that is not the kindest (as it may appear), but the one that is the most affirming of his worst fears for himself. That he, his desires, wants, dreams, and choices, are worth nothing unless he resigns himself to a life of piety and service. In sum, there are many ways to keep that faith the way he had always had it without giving up the excitement of life and love he clearly thrives in by recommitting him to the Chantry.

Personal Canon: I believe that Helena immediately presents herself as an aloof and standoffish force for Sebastian, though one that does not deter him, but challenges him. He certainly has no trouble befriending any companion (except for Varric, but that’s more about his insecurities than Sebastian’s lmao), and Helena is no different. More than just his general disposition to making friends, though, he has a curiosity about her. Because she works directly and has no qualms about violence as a tool to aid others, he sees an inkling of his desires or questions about himself in her and she encourages that further just by her actions. Other than the attraction things (they both like to cook, they both think the other is hot, they have similar family situations, they’re both secretly compe-- ok i’ll stop) he has a vested interest in listening to her disagree with him because she is a part of a new perspective that he has never considered, nor ever been given the option to.

For my custom rivalry path, Helena expresses consistent disagreement with how Seb has been treated, both by Elthina and by his parents, and encourages him to make the choice that he wants, not what the chantry wants or what his family wanted. 

Throughout the acts, Helena allows him to vent his contentions with his role to her, usually over food as they watch the sunset outside the Chantry. For Helena, things run very simply, not exactly black and white, but in a manner where she knows exactly which group of grays each action lies in. I think this simplicity is helpful in getting Sebastian to confront his past. For example:

“My parents thought I was a disgrace to the family, so they forced me into the Chantry to make something of myself.”

Helena looks at him with wild and confused eyes. “They didn’t like how you acted so they imprisoned you? Didn’t they care for you?”

“Well… Yes, but it wasn’t as if I was a good son.”

“You were a son. That should have been enough for them.”

Additionally, her own complex relationship with Leandra allows her to identify the abusive behaviors of his parents and the manipulative actions of Elthina later. This pattern of confrontation and disagreement between them continues until Act 3, and along the while, Sebastian’s dissatisfaction with the role of the Chantry wedges him farther away from his possible recommitment. By the end, he is able to recognize that he has worth as a human being regardless of whatever choice he makes and that he doesn’t have to sacrifice his life as Andraste did in order to be considered deserving. 

It’s at that point that he solidifies his choice to retake Starkhaven, with the hopes of bringing Helena along if she’ll have him, and sticks it to his past controllers and manipulators by doing what he knows he can do better than anyone.

In terms of his self-image, I think Sebastian simply deserves to know he has worth regardless of whether or not he is the epitome of good service and faith. I want him to be able to be “selfish” and acknowledge his wants as not things that are impure and lower his value, but a part of what makes him a human being, and one that makes him a good one too. Because of his wants and desires, he retakes Starkhaven, which is ultimately the best choice for the people there because his contender for the throne doesn’t know the first thing about ruling a city-state. Sebastian, at his best, will acknowledge his desires with temperance and balance, such that is accomplished by his faith. When all is said and done, Sebastian will only be complete when he can find faith and life through his embrace of self.