#g: love conquers all

[astramachina]

the copy of Death's End (the sequel to The Dark Forest) i requested from the library came in and i'm about a fifth of the way in and oh my god. i'm sorry, but i simply cannot wrap my head around a world that is now so culturally and technologically advanced yet continues to view gender in such a 21st century way. but i also cannot believe i just had to experience the sentence "and the men were so effeminate, their bones like bananas".

their bones like bananas this series won a kajillion awards obama sang his praises

"the sexes are indistinguishable HOWEVER the men still look at the women longingly" sir you don't have a single queer character in either of your near 1,300 pages combined, a saga that spans nearly 300 years (or all of human history if we take into consideration the historical excerpts even in to the far future where humanity becomes a space-faring civilization).

nothing grates my nerves more than a spec sci-fi that goes so in-depth into human culture, politics, economy, and philosophy yet misses the most basic of points because the author is so set on his misogynistic takes being "the only way humankind can continue on".

women can be in positions of power so long as they're gentle and kind and willing to raise children. there's only roughly a billion people on earth and we're not populating despite this now being a new eden where people are at peace and have no need to work in order to live because the men are too effeminate and women don't want them because they're useless. good thing the men who went into hibernation in 2050 are now here to get shit done! we FINALLY have a female protagonist but she's only driven because *tries to read smudged ink on hand* this one guy she never spared a second thought to bought her a star and now believes she's madly in love with him despite only having exchanged a total of one sentence to each other. cool.

but hey! at least the aliens invaders turned out to be literal weebs, so that's neat.

[cursedthingsshallwrite]

Unslaad prt 3 [wip]

“-and then Dov dove into the hole.”

Rhaenyra attempted to curb her laughter but couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped, hand out to accept Prince Lucerys’ help down from her stallion.

“After which Lucerys laughed so hard he tripped over a rock and fell into the hole with me” Dov bowed under Lucerys’ attempt to swipe at them. “He tried to climb out on his own for almost a full hour before he gave up and let me carry him out.”

What fortitude Rhaenyra was able to drag together was subsequently destroyed in less than three sentences as she clutched her stomach and let out a full-belly laugh. Surprising a large majority of the staff secretly bustling about the Red Keep as they paused to watch the Realm’s Delight quickly redden in embarrassment. She cleared her throat and ruthlessly attempted to cull the flush in her cheeks.

She watched as King and Prince exchanged looks again, one outright smiling while the other was doing his best to keep his lips flat.

“I apologize, I don’t know what came over me.” Rhaenyra straightened where she stood, in this moment she represented the Targaryens, and therefore needed to-

“Laughter is the best medicine in existence, you need not say your apologies where no offence was taken” King Dovahkiin said softly, then louder “besides, it’s good to know that I wasn’t the only one to find the moment humorous. Lucerys keeps trying to convince anyone who would listen that the ‘Dov dove’ is hilarious. Which I will say again Lucerys, a joke is not funny if it needs an explanation.”

Lucerys scowled “the pun is hilarious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

King Dovahkiin, in their infinite grace and courtly presence, stuck out their tongue at the Prince and blew a raspberry.

Rhaenyra didn’t laugh this time, but she did crack a smile at the antics.

She wondered if this was what was like to have siblings.

-

Despite the levity, and the surprising rapport two royals from Dremvothkrif built with the servants, the grand dinner arranged for Rhaenyra’s official announcement as heir to the Throne was a tense affair. Officially now, the Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra sat with her father and Prince Lucerys – while King Dovahkiin was sat next to her father’s remaining side. Decidedly pushing out Otto Hightower and Daemon.

She could feel her uncle’s stare like a weight upon her brow, but somehow, she didn’t quite feel the need to return the stare, not with Prince Lucerys’ oddities set before her like a particularly interesting puzzle. The Prince had no issues dining; indeed, his table manners were impeccable and his voice polite and actually riveting as he described some of the places that were safe for people in the Shadow Lands. Certainly, she could tell there was much he was hiding, but the very way he seemed to poignantly avoid speaking of it seemed to be a quiet message to keep away from the topic without lying to her outright.

She appreciated it, the older she got the more times she’s had to sift through the lies of the court even when she was still her father’s cupbearer. “now I must ask Prince Lucerys-“ she watched as another servant delivered a plate of carefully arranged cooked vegetables and fruits, adornments of which were clearly picked off another dish before being delivered to the Prince. “-why are you receiving so many of these odd dishes?”

Prince Lucerys swallowed before glancing around and leaning towards her, Rhaenyra leaning forward just a little closer so the younger of the Septums wouldn’t have to speak any louder than a whisper.

“Dov can’t stomach vegetables” he said quietly “and usually they prefer to eat meat raw, product of having lived in the Shadowlands for so long and they don’t really have enough Valyrian blood to counter it. We didn’t want to be rude so I just try to eat what I can while Dov quickly sends over the things they can’t eat.”

“Oh” Rhaenyra looked around “I can have the servants send it away.”

Lucerys seemed to wince before smoothing his expression once more, smiling at a passing servant who quickly emptied another plate of vegetables into his. “We can’t waste food, much of Dremvothkrif’s traditions stand on being the most efficient as possible with the resources we have so throwing out otherwise perfectly fine food is looked down on, but Dov just really doesn’t like it on a personal level, bad experience with it. Normally we would host a feast with the rest of the town but…”

Rhaenyra nodded sympathetically, “Of course, would you feel better if I merely had the servants off-duty take what they can and perhaps pass out the rest?”

Lucerys smiled gratefully “that would be wonderful if you can – but ah, if anyone questions it, please place the blame on me. We appreciate you being so accommodating. I don’t want you to have to go through any ire because of it.”

“You are our guests, and of the blood of Old Valyria, it is the least we can do” Rhaenyra rested her hand on his shoulder briefly before signaling for one of her maids to whisper the order. Lucerys in the meantime did a wonderful job distracting several nobles from interrupting her, regaling stories of storms and mountains that spewed fire. It wasn’t long before she could divert her own attention to the on-going conversation between her father and the King of Dremvothkrif; listening intently as King Viserys asked questions of Dremvothkrif and the Shadowlands.

“I apologize if I come off as rude Dovahkiin” King Viserys said “but I am personally intrigued by your name, it does not seem Valyrian in origin.”

“It isn’t” Dovahkiin confirmed, choking down a well-cooked piece of hog as quickly and as politely as they could manage given the circumstances. “it is a Septum tradition actually, usually the child receives a title of sort for their deeds in the traditional tongue made up of words in the Dragon Tongue. Dovah kiin, in my case, can be translated roughly into Dragon born. My personal name is kept secret save for family unfortunately I am unable to share it. It is the opposite for Lucerys as he is of Valyrian blood, and therefore it is his Septum name that is kept personal.”

“Of course of course, I do hope you can forgive my curiosity. I have always been somewhat of a scholar, and remorse the fact that the Targaryen clan had managed to save all but the barest hints of its literature and culture” King Viserys smiled, tired and weary. Reminding Lucerys of the King the man would become in a few years’ time. “I’m glad that Dremvothkrif was so open to reconnecting, I swear to you Dovahkiin that you and yours will be treated as close as family during your stay. Ah, I have noticed you have not drunken any wine, is it perhaps not to your taste?”

Dov winced “I apologize, it is a habit of mine not to drink any liquid that is inebriating. The surroundings of what is livable on Dremvothkrif is rife with danger and beasts seeking to reclaim and expand their own territory, so I am amongst the first to respond to attacks of the like. The largest one we had was a Hydra that would have almost destroyed Graolerin a few months ago had it not been for our paranoia. I am sure the wine is very delicious.”

Rhaenyra glanced towards Lucerys and noticed that he too had not partaken in a drop of wine. Interesting.

“A hydra?” King Viserys asked, intrigued.

“A three headed beast; one head spews acid, another of flammable gas, and the third lights the gas. Furthermore, they are known for their accelerated healing and cutting off one head merely rapidly guarantees growth of two more. We try not to kill any if we do not have to, as they are the natural hunters of the dragons that call the Shadowlands home. Though they are thankfully not as dangerous when still in their fledgling ages – they usually have only the three or five heads – thereby making it easier pierce the body through to the heart.”

“That sounds…” Viserys winced “gruesome.”

“Indeed” Dov laughed “I’ve many scars to prove their danger, but thankfully as much as they are territorial, many of the established Hydras keep to their own. It is the young ones that tend to press against the boarders on the rare occasion.”

“Then, a toast to you then King Dovahkiin” King Viserys presented his cup before Dovahkiin, standing and addressing the other guests now that attention has been called for. “May my daughter’s reign be a wonderful one when she comes of age and may yours be many years still, so that the Westeros and Dremvothkrif would stand together, as allies in this harsh world. To new beginnings!”

Dovakiin politely toasted with their cup before setting it down, a boisterous chorus of echoes repeated after the King.

Talks continued, with Princess Rhaenyra and King Viserys both taking in tribute from the other Lords for her official ascension as heiress to the throne. It was around the time of the party winding down and people beginning to drunkenly find their way back to their rooms when Dovahkiin spoke again in regards to a matter outside of sharing knowledge and history.

“I believe it would be about time to present gifts of our own” Dovahkiin said, a smile quirked on their lips.

“Oh?” King Viserys looked on as two servants came forward.

“Thank you Edward, Arthur” Rhaenyra’s eyes snapped to the King of Dremvothkrif as they greeted the servants by name. Rising from their seat to walk around and help support this massive square shape covered in a black silk. Daemon had moved up the tables by then, sliding closer with a drink in his hand to the scene while the guests that remained sober lingered in interest. Whispered gossip of this new ally coming to such an event without bearing tribute suddenly halted in the face of evidence otherwise.

Dovahkiin snatched black silk off, revealing what was underneath.

Rhaenyra allowed herself to gape before forcibly shutting her jaw closed.

Presented in a beautiful frame of dragon glass and a clear pane of glass was a map of delicate detail. Carefully drawn specs presented mountains and forests and rivers while washes of ink seemed to make each little detail rise up from the parchment. The map had some age, slightly yellow with time and slight scuffs at the edges where it must have been torn slightly in some places – it would have been an insult had the work of the map not been so fine.

Even the Shadowlands, normally a jagged blob of ink on any map, was beautifully rendered and revealed a mountainous landscape with slightly darker swirls that appeared like smoke.

“I will freely admit that Dremvothkrif has not been as isolated as we would like people to think” Dovahkiin explained with a mischievous quirk on their lips. “For the past ten years we have been sending teams of explorers to assess a large majority of the known world and record them to the best of their ability, to expand on the knowledge gathered generations ago closer to the founding of Dremvothkrif and the arrival of the survivors of the Doom. This is the most complete result of our labor for now. I hope you don’t mind the lack of lettering, it is the master copy and therefore I wasn’t to add any locations until the information recorded was certain.”

Daemon was the one who spoke this time. “You made this?”

If Dovahkiin was surprised by the sudden new voice, they did not show. “I did, sort of? It’s really just a culmination of the work my people did once they returned home. But having a hand in the creation of a gift is a type of tradition in Dremvothkrif. To show one’s regard and sincerity, the gift is usually of one’s own creation. Although admittedly-“ they reached out for one of the bags held by the servants and pulled out several very old set of books covered with a deep colored leather, as well as one in black that seemed very different from the others. “this one is a bit of a cheat, it’s merely my copy of some of the books we were able to save from Old Valyria, and my own findings regarding some of the translation work.”

Dovahkiin walked over, presenting the books to Daemon, drawing Viserys’ eyes, and barely held together hysteria as it was the first time in a very very long time the older had seen his usually mercurial brother flush and in awe as he carefully reached out for the books as if they were his own children. Which might actually not be too far off actually, considering the history of Old Valyria and anything to do with the Targaryen motherland was something of a precious hobby both brothers shared.

Rhaenyra just stared unashamed, though she herself was taken aback by the gravity of what her family had just been given, what can she say? Her uncle was quite fetching in that shade of red.

“And finally, to the Princess of Dragon Stone and Realm’s Delight, to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen” the Dovahkiin reached into a different bag, this one subtly glowing before fading back into the fabric, quicker than the eyes could catch. Dov presented a beautiful set of leather armor that gleaned with iridescent scales complete with a pair of trousers, gauntlets, and boots.

Instead of allowing the servants or maids to take it away, Dovahkiin presented the armor to Rhaenyra directly, not letting go until Rhaenyra clutched the armor between her hands. Surprised at the lightness of it all, and watching the scales shift in a rainbow of color under the light. It was then that Dovahkiin allowed others to take the gauntlets and boots, all of which seemed to be a hybrid of some sort of thick black material that seemed almost wood in texture, only select parts of it being lined with this strange leather. It was well made, and definitely created with her growth in mind – the armor having several carefully tucked and hidden straps for the ultimate ease of adjustment.

However, there was also a sword.

Bladed at one edge, it was a stretch of sword that seemed to be forged to almost look like an odd tree branch, twisted until coming to a delicate bend that met with a straight line at the back of the sword. The hilt was curved at the end with a gold pommel that had just enough space to rest a pinky within the bend, closer inspection would reveal the fine filigree carved into tiny details but not enough to make the sword particularly unwieldy. Near the tang of the blade was a sprinkle of what seemed to be rubies that shined in twinkles under the firelight, almost giving the sword a glow of its own. It would be long for her age, but in time the length would be comfortable.

Lucerys, who could recognize an enchanted weapon when he saw one, knew it fucking glowed.

The rest remained in awed blissful ignorance.

“Normally, I would have the intended wielder name the weapons I make” Dov said, voice seemingly carried by nothing more than the hush that overcame the party. “So I hope the Princess would pardon me for naming it before I would ask, the name of the blade is thus: Yolvey, the Fang of Flames. May it protect you well Princess.”

Dovahkiin manipulated the sword with nimble fingers, the metal singing as it cut through the air until they held it in front of them. The flat of the blade comfortably in the middle of their face. 

Suddenly it wasn’t just a King presenting gifts, suddenly it was something else. Something more. Something otherworldly, although there was only one person in the entire room who could figure out why.

The Laat Dovahkiin closed their eyes and placed a reverent kiss on the flat of it, the blade seeming to hum before settling – before Dovahkiin walked around to kneel on one knee before Rhaenyra, blade presented forth.

With shaking fingers, Rhaenyra accepted the sword, the handle warming pleasantly under her hands – and in her mind’s eye a voice whispered beneath her subconscious.

‘Master.’ Whispered the sword.

Now given life.

^0~0^

“It might have been too much, was it too much?” Dovahkiin asked, pacing the room.

“What exactly did you enchant her sword with?” Lucerys hissed “it glowed.”

“Oh you know, if she cuts it with the right motivation it may or may not make the victim burst into flames.”

“...Dov.”

“I thought it would be useful! Plus! Dragon rider, flaming sword? I couldn’t just give her a regular sword, what was I going to do? Make the thing poison whoever it cuts? That’s so boring.”

“It sets people on fire Dov.”

Dov huffed crossing their arms. “I was an adventurer too you know, before I took an arrow to the knee.”

“But did you have to do that whole ceremony? I think my Step-Father, Mother, and grandfather might have fallen in love at the same time for a short time and I am very uncomfortable with that fact” Lucerys said, partially joking, just to see the abject look of horror on the old dragon’s face.

He took a swig from a privately acquired pitcher of wine in front of his seat at Dovahkiin’s fireplace. They had given them what looked like the near best damn room in the entirety of the keep, he was fairly certain this room had been reserved for one of his siblings at one point, but he couldn’t really figure out if it was him or Jace.

“It’s Skyrim tradition” Dovahkiin defended weakly, suddenly meek “you can’t gift an enchanted weapon like that without blessing it, I had to. Besides, your family is too young for me Drog.”

“I don’t think that’s what did it Dov.” Drog made a vague motion with his hands, deliberately referring to all of Dovahkiin. “It’s…this. Being around you can be very intense very quickly.”

“Huh.”

Lucerys blinked, moving away from his drink for the moment. “You know I meant that as a joke right?”

“No, you aren’t as wrong as you may think” Dov’s fingers twitched, a chair dragging itself from the side closer than what would have been advisable to the open fireplace before crashing in. “I just didn’t expect them to be influenced by my presence to such a degree, I hadn’t realized it would be different here.”

Dov paused before turning to the blazing fire, reaching out and arranging the wood so that they were neatly stacked. Expression contemplative before taking back their hand and patting out what cloth managed to catch on fire. “I just didn’t expect the level of magic seeped into their bones; I could hardly tell them apart from the Dov that laid within that pit.”

Lucerys leaned forward “And I’m only learning this now? What do you mean you have an influence?”

Dovahkiin shrugged. “I don’t know the exact nature of it, I only know that my presence has an effect on living creatures. They kept my body the same, so I’m uncertain if it is something they added, or it is simply a result of my age. Could also be my magic or the souls of the Dov I carry. It could even be whatever magic Old Valyria had used to bond riders to wyverns. The only thing I know of for certain is that most Dov recognize me, perhaps on some level, that bond they share with their wyverns might give them more insight than most would have normally. And when we met…”

“Arrax had died” Lucerys muttered, taking a bigger gulp straight from the wine pitcher. “And I was dead.”

Dov tilted their head to rest on their shoulder, knee tucked into the seat. “Are you going to sleep?”

“No.”

“Me neither.” Dov drummed their fingers against the arm of the chair. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Lucerys straightened “trouble?”

“Not sure yet” they said softly “I just know it’s coming.”

“Yeah” Lucerys whispered, holding the pitcher close “I feel something too. Storm. Big one.”

“Mn.”

They sat in silence for the rest of the night.

-

The Targaryens that called the Red Keep home perked up as a maid came in and curtseyed before them at their breakfast.

She bowed apologetically “I’m sorry your Majesty, my Lady, my Lord. Neither their highness King Dovahkiin nor Prince Lucerys were in their rooms.”

Rhaenyra frowned “did they leave any note as to where they were going?”

Thunder ominously rolled throughout the town, shuddering through the Red Keep.

“No my lady, but I did inquire to some of the morning hands and they said they had both sped out of the room near sunrise in a most urgent manner.”

Then another ran through the door, one of the watchmen stationed around the city walls, a younger recruit by the look of him as he bowed before the royal family hastily. Stopping short of crashing into the dining hall completely by the King’s guard “T-the guests- the Prince-“

“Take a breath boy” Daemon commanded “speak clearly.”

The watchman took a deep breath, lungs audibly wheezing as he did so before straightening to the young man’s full height. “At twilight his highness Prince Lucerys and the King Dovahkiin had run out and jumped off the wall.”

Rhaenyra nearly dropped her utensils. “Excuse me?”

“Something had sped past the walls and caught them, we weren’t entirely sure what to do save for raising the alarm but King Dovahkiin- they said not to and to call up however many able-bodied maester we could rouse to the wall. He- After an hour Prince Lucerys delivered two crewmembers who seemed on the verge of death. Another hour later two more. As far as we gathered, lightning had struck the main mast during the night and the combination with the storm had capsized their ship before they could make it to harbor.” The watchman took another breath “Just a few minutes ago I was ordered to report and request linen wraps to dress wounds.”

“Has the Prince returned?” King Viserys demanded.

“We saw something at a distance, but I had been sent off before it was confirmed Sire.”

Daemon rose to his feet “what the actual fuck is with these royals-“

“Daemon” King Viserys sighed.

“You can’t argue against their oddness brother” Daemon moved to walk out the door “I’m going to figure out what the fuck happened – you, get the linens that were requested.”

“Yes my Lord.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Rhaenyra” King Viserys sighed.

“You placed our guests under my responsibility Father, if they are still out there, I should be among the first to fly out for their return.”

“…very well” King Viserys grumbled “but come straight here after, I want to know what happened.”

“Yes father.”

-

“What in the fuck.”

Rhaenyra agreed.

“Move out of the fucking way.” The King of Dremvothkrif yelled.

Maesters and guards scrambled out of the way as the bird-like dragon dipped down in slow circles. Prince Lucerys sat behind the reigns by himself.

Which meant that King Dovahkiin was was hanging by the dragon’s talons. Daemon would be impressed if he wasn’t so damn distracted by the makeshift sling that was holding one man aloft in the dragon’s grip, a series of clothes tied in complicated knots that looked like they came out of a hodgepodge of rope, cloth, and what seemed to be two shirts that made up the handle of this strange looking sling.

The King landed on the stone wall without so much as a pause, reaching out to catch the bottom of the sling.

“Bo mulhaan.”

Daemon could feel his body freeze before he could wonder what happened, yet something in his mind whispered, ‘not you’.

Exchanging glances with Rhaenyra confirmed that she had felt the same thing.

Yet above them, the feathered dragon Rhaenyra had faced managed to hover just until Dovahkiin was able to catch whoever remained in the sling, setting them down gently onto the floor. Impressive considering whoever the man was laid wider than the foreign King was tall.

“Hi lost dreh” Dovahkiin yelled up.

“Mindoraan” Lucerys called out.

Riiziizul screeched before turning to land, Prince Lucerys leaping from the seat to land into a roll.

“Where are those fucking linens?!” Dovahkiin hissed.

“Here!” One Maester’s apprentice sped past Daemon and Rhaenyra, who stood in watch as the two royals seemed to command the chaos to heel in an admittedly admirable fashion. To the point where almost everyone present for the storm seemed to skip over their presence.

“Fascinating.” Rhaenyra muttered under her breath.

Daemon tilted his head in her direction without moving his eyes away from the scene before him.

“It’s as if they’re in battle” Rhaenyra continued “but what are they fighting?”

Daemon glanced at some of the rescued men that seemed to have glanced the touch of the Stranger. Some passed out with their wounds but breathing. Others awake and encouraging their fellows to stay awake, the few still standing was up to their necks deep in the chaos alongside everyone else. Whether motivated by the adrenaline running through their veins or the energy dragged out of them by the foreign royalties who told them to move or be moved was anyone’s guess.

There was a maniac energy in their eyes, a frenzied movement to each command with each moment of running from one injured man to another. Screamed or yelled or snarled over the thunderous storm and flashing lightning. Uncaring of wet clothes, uncaring of wet stones and the sweat that mixed with the cold rain. There were grim expressions on all the maesters of the like that Daemon had seen very few of; whatever this battle was, you’d think that everyone was racing to snatch away each and every soul from the Stranger.

“The hell are you two standing around for?!” Dovahkiin barked at them “help me hold this man down so I can set his shoulder back!”

Daemon moved forward before he realized he was doing it, and he swore he was going to get to the bottom of why that is.

As soon as he finished with whatever this tyrannical king wanted him to do.

Unbeknownst to any party, Lucerys was in a crisis.

The frantic chaos of a team of maesters, his stepfather and his own mother was bizarrely familiar. Even with the crazy old dragon ordering them around and somehow getting the two most stubborn people he’s ever known to take orders from someone who wasn’t each other or his grandfather.

Ignoring the storm was second nature to him now, ignoring the hair sticking down to his head and the wet fabric that clung to his form and made his entire body heat amongst the chill. He worked quickly and efficiently as he could afford, cleaning and wrapping wounds and carefully assessing and noting down any major injuries he could find. The years had taught him to be a passible healer, but he wasn’t quite good enough to fix every single thing.

As the storm slowly began to pass over King’s Landing, sunlight filtered through. Rain petering into a soft drizzle that washed some of the blood away into the crack of the stone walls. He wiped and cleaned and bandaged as he could, checked and double checked to make sure the man was breathing and the lungs were clear of water. Attempting to avoid looking at this man’s face as best he could until he could avoid it no longer.

High cheekbones. A handsome face with a sharp jawline that was showing just the slightest hint of beard, wet and long blond hair curled from the humid storm, one eye shut from exertion. Another that was no longer there.

‘How’ he thought, half hysterical ‘how are you here?! Why?!’

He felt someone nudge him at the edge of his mind, Dovahkiin, sensing his ongoing conflict. Pushing him back from the brink with a firm but gentle shove.

Lucerys bit his bottom lip as he carefully brushed away the damp near silver locks from his current charge’s face, fingers gently sinking beneath to assess any damage to the skull – and finding only one spot that was slightly beginning to swell. The coldness of the rain had halted some of the progress, but he could tell based on the size and location that he would be unconscious for some time.

No blood from there though, which he supposed was good.

“-ire? Sire? Does this man require anything” one Maester asked.

He shook his head “head injury and some minor bruising, he should be fine once he gets dried off and warmed. Are there any others who need assistance?”

“No sire” the maester glanced in a direction that drew Lucerys’ eye. Towards Dovahkiin who was hovering over someone’s leg, expression blank before twisting the foot back from its odd position and ignoring the howling screams of its owner. Daemon at the other side holding the man down while Rhaenyra’s brow furrowed in concentration to focus on their instruction, wrapping the splint as evenly as she could in such.

“Any dead?” Lucerys asked, startling the maester, counting the heads – what brief glances he was able to take of their ship had informed him that there should’ve been at least thirty crew members, it was a little over the number.

“N-no sire, all of them are alive, if not awake.” The maester bowed “I-I admit I haven’t- this is-“

Lucerys turned back to face the maester, rather young, maybe not quite a maester but an apprentice of one – or just someone who was misfortunate enough to have enough knowledge in the matters of medicine and healing to be dragged along with Dovahkiin’s orders.

“-why sire?” he was asked.

Lucerys blinked before shrugging. “They needed help. So we helped.”

“But they are- they’re just-“ the man tried and failed to continue his sentence, but the message was clear enough to understand. ‘They’re just sailors’, these men were just regular people. Why is it that a King and a Prince would try so hard to save them? Lucerys himself hadn’t quite realized that it probably was odd that a King and a Prince were trying so hard to forcibly drag a couple of sailors to the land of the living with so much vigor. That was just how things were in Dremvothkrif; he hadn’t realized it was so odd.

Lucerys whipped the water running down his face, the sun beginning to warm the rocks below as the whole world seemed to calm. Seemed to take a breath, a moment of respite from the chaos of the storm.

“I’m not sure” Lucerys said honestly “we just wanted to.”

He watched as Dovahkiin turned on their side to lie on the wet stone, heaving, just before laughing and yelling something into the sky in a language Lucerys had never heard before.

He laughed regardless.  

Daemon and Rhaenyra, wet and damp with dirt clinging to fancy silken cloth – sat near them, looking on incredulously.

-

“How soon are they leaving?” Daemon hissed.

Viserys looked up to find both his brother soaked to the bone and his daughter nowhere in sight, giving leave for the King to stare daggers at his brother in question.

“Do you know what we saw when we got to the wall?” Daemon paced in front of his brother’s desk “that Prince Lucerys flying in on a feathered dragon with the King dangling off its foot.”

King Viserys frowned “what for? That dragon seemed perfectly fine flying with the two of them.”

“They were transporting some injured man” Daemon hair flew into his face as he gestured “and then proceeded to order the rest of us around like we were some sort of pack dogs and the worse part is I followed, Rhaenyra and I just fell in line like a couple of pups and I cannot figure out how.”

King Viserys expression morphed, as if the sheer idea that either Daemon or Rhaenyra would just allow themselves to be ordered around without fuss was the true horror in the entire situation.

“We can’t just send them away merely because their presence is…unsettling” King Viserys motioned towards the pile of books “they gave us anecdotal literature from Old Valyria, never mind the map and the armor. These records and books provide a clearer image of Old Valyria than we’ve ever hand in the past few centuries after Aegon the Conqueror – and this-“ he lifted up the dictionary “has been the key to understand all of it.”

Daemon sighed, dragging over a nearby chair and crashing into it. “…I don’t like it Viserys. They’re too…strange.”

King Viserys snorted “you sound like every other preacher of the seven Daemon, are you sure your coin isn’t teetering?”

At Daemon’s continued silence, King Viserys paused in his reading to really look at his brother. Watching the younger’s expression twitch every now and then, no doubt going through plan after plan after plan.

“What is this really about Daemon?” he asked softly. “I’ve spoken little with King Dovahkiin, they seem kind.” He kept an eye on his brother’s expression – tracking every twitch and minute shift of expression with an expert eye. It could have been a number of things, but as much as he wished it wasn’t the case, it has been a very long while since either of them had really sat down to talk much about anything these days.

Especially after Aemma passed.

“I don’t trust that power they wield, and I don’t trust they won’t use it to burn us to the ground.” Daemon’s fingers tended to twitch a little when he was restless, drumming against his thighs or against the arm of the chair if he wasn’t up and moving around. If Viserys remembered their childhood correctly, the number of tutors who failed to train the habit out of it couldn’t be counted on both hands.

“Have we given them reason to?” Viserys rose a brow.

“…no.”

“Do we plan on giving them a reason?”

“…no.”

Viserys nodded, leaning back into his chair. “I spoke with the maids in charge of seeing to their needs.”

“And?” Daemon snapped.

Ignoring this, Viserys continued “she said that Prince Lucerys requested a pitcher of wine and entered the room after King Dovahkiin. Inside there was no noise save for the sound of conversation, the context of which we have no idea of. She did hear, however, that they were worried for an oncoming storm.”

Daemon frowned.

“Then, two hours before sunrise, when the morning servants were beginning their duties. Both ran out of their rooms as if the Stranger himself was at their heels. Ser Westerling told me that Dovahkiin bellowed loud enough that he thought a dragon was attacking the keep. They jumped off the ledge and onto the dragon just as soon as she appeared” Viserys let that sit for a little while longer while he poured himself something to drink. “Their ways of dragon riding is mysterious Daemon, even Rhaenyra couldn’t make heads or tales of it. Only that King Dovahkiin and Prince Lucerys of Dremvothkrif spoke, and the dragon responded to it. Which means a quite a few things.”

Daemon inched closer, head tilted sideways in curiosity.

“They have an entirely different way of dragon riding, one that could not have come from Old Valyria – but they do hail from the Shadowlands” Viserys nodded to the hand drawn map encased in a frame of dragon glass, now hanging in his office. “My guess is that much of both their behaviors stem from the dangers living in such a place entails.”

“Which is..?” Daemon drawled.

“One simpler, but more brutal than ours brother. I do not think Dovahkiin was attempting to make their accolades impressive when they described Hydras, there wasn’t any attached story of some grand battle against one of the creatures. It was condensed, informative. As if I was simply being told how to get to an inn faster through a shortcut. It means that the Septum clan most likely rose to power from sheer strength and home advantage, rather than cunning. They are dragons that happen to be resting Daemon, give them no threat and they will have no reason to retaliate.” Viserys took a drink before setting it down, a smile faint on his lips. “It’s honestly rather refreshing not needing to worry about political interests or manners of the court. I can feel safe knowing that if my daughter ever were to find herself in trouble with them around, they’d sooner more likely rip heads off the one responsible than see how they will make themselves heroes in my eyes and the eyes of Rhaenyra.”

After another moment of silence, Viserys sighed and turned to stare at Daemon amidst his brother’s obsession with preparing for every little moment of potential betrayal. Not that he blamed him too much for it, after the announcement of Viserys’ ascension to King, his brother had grown twice as weary when the whispers began of Viserys being ill fit for the throne. Too soft, too cautious, not daring enough. A scholar rather than a warrior. Daemon apparently took it upon himself to be the extreme version of what everyone wanted if only to counter-balance his brother and make Viserys seem the obvious better choice.

It isn’t’ that Viserys was ungrateful for it, but he mourned the man Daemon could have been if he didn’t have to lean into his extremes.

“It isn’t wrong that you’re so weary Daemon, but I truly believe they don’t wish to pose any threat to us so long as we do not give them any reason to. If you so wish, spend time with Prince Lucerys if King Dovahkiin is too influential for your liking. I know Rhaenyra has a soft spot for the boy.”

“She what?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh stop embarrassing yourself, it’s unbecoming of you. When I asked of Prince Lucerys’ marital status, his King said in no uncertain terms that any offer of marriage to the Prince of Dremvothkrif will be declined or ignored and rudely rejected if I so much as breathed such a request. They said, and I am repeating in verbatim: ‘My brother is uninterested in such prospects’ and changed the subject. Not that you would have known considering how hard you were staring at Rhaenyra and the Prince as they talked.”

“What the- no marriage alliances? How the fuck do they maintain peace between families?”

King Viserys shrugged “When I tried to ask, all they said was ‘I tell them to cut it out, and if they don’t I drag the ones pushing the argument and throw them into the sea to cool off’.”

Daemon snickered despite himself, “if only it were so easy.”

“Yes well, I imagine there’s a very good reason they made Dovahkiin King in a land known to be the home of dragons and what other man-eating creatures also live there for a very good reason.” King Viserys frowned “I only worry that I don’t know the extent of that power. Is it magic? Is it simply strength? Resourcefulness? Perhaps all those things combined in certain combinations – I am unsure. And we won’t know unless they remain as guests for a while longer.”

Daemon groaned “so you want me to hang around the boy for information.”

“I am certain they’re more genuine than most of the people in this kingdom Daemon” Viserys deadpanned “but I like the fact that we know virtually nothing about them just as much as you do. I will pursue the thread with King Dovahkiin, can I trust you and Rhaenyra will figure something out with the Prince? And no, you cannot deliberately humiliate him or pick fights with him.”

Daemon sighed but nodded. “Fine. You really are lucky I love you, you know that?”

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s more of a curse than a boon” King Viserys muttered to himself.

Daemon scowled.

“Yes yes, love you too, now get your wet ass off my furniture.”

[Previous]                                                                                                       [Next]

[strawmaerry]

megumi’s thoughts. | g. satoru & f. megumi

megumi fushiguro thinks gojo satoru is an idiot.

when he met this weird white-haired guy, he looked creepy while wiggling his long ass fingers. he also looked funny with those big, circular glasses.

i can’t wait to get away from this guy, he thought to himself at that time.

he thinks gojo is childish, weird, and an idiot, but he looks completely different when he meets you.

how can he have this kind of woman? he questions himself as he stares at you.

you’re pretty, very pretty. you are also kind. you also have a great sense of humor. being able to insult gojo is a plus for him. you didn’t also bat your eyelashes or blush like a schoolgirl when you hug him. women tend to squeal whenever they see him and it hurts his ears.

“well, you’re definitely the type of man that my mom warned me about. those guys who would entice you with candies just to get in a van? yup, that’s you.”

before he can think, he finds himself snickering at your response. megumi finds a soft smile when gojo whines.

he’s soon-to-be-guardian (ew) finally acknowledges him as if he has forgetten he’s there in the first place.

probably because all he sees is his girlfriend, megumi realizes.

“this is megumi. i’ve brought him from an auction.”

you two banter like an old married couple with smiles, giggles, and lovesick glances in between.

he can’t believe gojo can act like that. like a smitten fool who would do anything for you. a man who will show you his vulnerable and soft side. the kind of love that conquers everything.

love.

he does not have any opinion about that four letter word. how can he when he never experienced it? he is going to be sold off to his clan by his father until gojo satoru intervenes. is that how his father loves someone? by sending your children to the lion’s den? all he has is tsumiki.

and when he watches the two of you vow an almost proposal and satoru wanting to be on his knees for you, declaring you as his one and only; his forever girl, his wife. then he understands that—

oh. so this is what love looks like. this is what love feels like. this is what love sounds like.

completely in awe of the person you’re in love with that you forget the world surrounding you and focus on the object of your desires, grinning like a sunshine, bright eyes filled with joy and his name carved into your heart because you are his and he is yours forever and ever and—

megumi wants to have that kind of love.

[temiizpalace]

☆┊YOU DREAM OF ME??

SUMMARY: entering the dream world was such a strange feat.. especially seeing yourself in somebody else’s dream.

CHARACTERS: jade leech-centric

GENRE: fluff, crackfic

WARNINGS: you act cringe because jade leech is a cringy guy with wattpad fantasies + BOOK 7 SPOILERS + canon divergence (some dialogue is not exact cause i lowkey forgot, some moments didn’t actually happen, and i shortened it a lil so i don’t have to write too much)

NOTES: while writing this, it turns out someone else had a similar idea so i was hesitant to upload the writing. however, I’ve decided to anyways. that being said, crediting said individual is still in order since they had the idea first.

please check out @.paralleljoys post here (IF ANY ISSUES PLEASE SEND ME AN ASK, TY!)

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🐬∘˙

you didn’t expect this. nobody expected this, actually.

jade leech, cunning, observant, quiet, and mysterious. he was one to keep his cards close to his chest and play it safely to ensure the best outcomes. and yet, here we are, in said eels dreams. a look inside of his thoughts, how he truly saw people, how he—

“jade you’re so cool! i love love love love loveeee the way your mind works sooooo much!” a voice, sounding similarly to yours, chimed. “fufu, you flatter me, my pearl..”

your jaw dropped, grims jaw dropped, you can hear idia falling out of his seat from behind the screen, jamil’s eyes had never been opened wider, floyd cringed, silver looked away, ortho could barely compute, and sebek had the most genuine disgust written on his face.

was that you? you thought azul and floyd looked stupid, BUT THAT WAS YOU? jamil slapped a hand over grims mouth, preventing the direbeast from cackling his lungs out at the sight of your pathetic image. “MYAHAHA, HENCHMAN YOU LOOK SO STUPI—“ “keep quiet.” jamil mutters, slightly smirking. you could tell he was also containing his laughter, making your face change in hue.

“eww, no way. i knew jade was all lovey dovey with the prefect but i dont wanna watch it. what a sap.” floyd groans, looking at dream you, real you, then at jade. “i dont wanna watch this either! if you guys are embarrassed how do you think i feel?!” you murmur, hiding your face in shame.

“my pearl, open wide.” jade grins, holding a piece of shrimp in his hands. “oh my, jade you sweetheart!” you giggle, opening your mouth so jade can feed you. idia snickers, holding back a laugh. you can practically see his smug expression in your mind. “he has the fantasies of a trashy middle school fanfiction, what comedy gold.”

silver clears his throat, trying to regain the attention of the group in order to free jade from his dream. while everyone with a logical mind held an equally logical discussion, you, floyd, and grim were too focused on the scene before you. “jade, you and shrimpy should just get married.” dream floyd grins, pushing you two together.

“agreed. you both are a match made in heaven!” dream azul says in between sobs, wiping his tears away with one of his tentacles. “why, what a splendid idea! azul, please make arrangements right away. we shall wed at once, my dear.” jade chuckles, holding you close in his arms. “j-jade!? i don’t know what to say..”

“do you not wish to marry me?” he asks, his thumb tracing your chin. his voice was low, yet soothing at the same time. “it’s not like i don’t want to..” dream you mumbles, avoiding his eyes by looking at the ground with a pout. REAL you, on the other hand, can’t bear the sight of it anymore. neither can floyd. or grim.

“let’s continue to overcome hardships and conquer many mountains together.” jade laughs, pulling you all in by the shoulders. as the dream variants of jades loved ones cheer, floyd swims in and swoops down, attacking his brother and his dumbed down dream him.

“I CANNOT STAND IT ANYMORE!” floyd grunts, scowling at his dear brother, who held an expression of shock. “f-floyd? there’s two of you..?!” he stutters, looking at his dream twin and his actual twin. “they’re mirror images of each other! how can you tell them apart!” azul exclaims, wiping his eyes to get a better look.

“who is this? can i hug you and eat you? hehe.”

“i originally thought you weren’t interested in other people, but you have a limited memory. “i dont eat dance and eat shrimps stuck in between rocks.” floyd scoffs, staring at his dumbfounded doppelgänger. “floyd.. doesn’t eat shrimps.. or dance..?” jade ponders, feeling his mind begin to waver.

“jade! im scared!” dream you screams, curling up in the boys arms. your eyebrow twitches, tired of the humiliation you witnessed thanks to jades horrible imagination. following your impulse, you run out with floyd, despite the shouts of your name.

“PREFECT! GET BACK HERE! WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU TRYING TO ACHIEVE?!” sebek shouts, but his voice falls on deaf ears. he made a point though, what were you doing? it’d be much safer to just stay back and watch this play out, so why the hell are you trying to get involved?! “p-pearl?!” jade gasps, eyes wide in disbelief.

“th-there’s also two of you.? what in the seven is going on here?” he swam back slowly, unraveling the scene before him. two brothers, two lovers (well not officially..), and a whole school of students that seem familiar, but unsure as to where.. you could tell jade was beginning to wake up! it’s only a matter of time..

“jade, don’t be fooled. floyd shouldn’t be that ugly bastard, he should be more innocent and cute. and look at [MC], they love you so much they don’t know what to do with themselves! don’t be tricked by that fraud.” azul sneers, pointing at you and floyd, much to your dismay. just taking a glance at floyd was enough to be able to tell he was this close to breaking every bone in dream azul’s body and frankly you don’t blame him.

“i see.. floyd has been very charming to his relatives and my pearl wouldn’t leave my side so quickly,” jade hesitates, glancing at his two brothers. “i should go. they all really need me.” he smiled politely, swimming towards what once looked like his loved ones, now forming into large piles of dark goo. as jade was nearly consumed by the darkness, floyd swims past quickly. you stood on the eels back, landing a hit on dumb dumb floyd, crybaby azul, and cringe wattpad you.

“I DO NOT SOUND LIKE THAT.” you finally yell, catching nearly everyone’s attention. “it’s no use. we have to help out.” jamil sighs, lifting his magic pen. “let’s go!” silver shouts, rushing into the spot where you and floyd had already began your attack. as the fight rages on, the others serving as a distraction for jade, floyd had continued to land hits on the watered down versions of yourselves with ease before they finally shouted for help.

“it hurts! help us, jade!” dream floyd cries. “rescue us, jade!” azul cries. “oww! protect us, jade!” dream you screams, finally catching his attention. “how dare you! you fake. get behind me, i got this.” jade hisses, attacking floyd directly. you felt your balance falter on floyd’s back, slipping before falling near the vents. “prefect!” ortho shouts, rushing over to catch you til you fell into jamil’s arms safely. “it’s not safe, the vents are crumbling due to the fighting. retreat for now!” he directs, running towards a safer location.

“your carelessness nearly got you killed, prefect.” jamil sighs, looking down at you with a concerned yet tired expression. “sorry, i just couldn’t take it anymore!” you groan, crossing your arms angrily. “you can set me down now, jamil.” you pat his arm, breaking him from his daze. “..right.” he mutters, placing you down gently. they began to discuss different ways to wake up jade, before sebek finally settled on just electrocuting them.

“be careful, sebek.” silver reminds him, patting his shoulder before the boy ran out. “pierce the cloudy sky, lightning! living bolt!”

the tweels stop their fighting, electricity trickling all over their body leaving them temporarily paralyzed and passed out. after a few moments, their eyes fluttered open, being met with millions of other stares. “jade!” azul shouts, pushing floyd at the way with a grunt. “thank goodness you’re alive! i could’ve lost my cute subordinate!” he sniffles, causing jades eyebrow to raise. “..cute subordinate?”

“i’ll cry if jade is gone! don’t go anywhere!” dream floyd sighs with a dopey expression. “jade you idiot! you could’ve gotten seriously hurt and id never forgive you!” dream you sobs, rushing over to hold his hand hastily. “hm. that’s strange. the floyd and azul i know would never say something like that.” jade scoffs, looking at the two with disgust.

“huh?” they gasp, staring at him as if he said something crazy. “was sebek’s lightning so powerful, jade is finally starting to awaken?” silver mumbles, raising a finger to his chin. “awaken.. why am i here in the first place..?” jade groans, recollecting his thoughts slowly. “so.. i am a student at night raven college.. on land? agh.”

“my head feels like it’s going to split!” he winces in pain, holding his head as he shouts. all his memories finally began to come back to him, all the moments he had during the year turning the gears in his mind til he was finally back to his senses. “how could i possibly have forgotten something so important?” he huffs, looking back at the doppelgängers behind him.

“floyd would never act so obedient, he’s much more domineering. azul would give orders to others without putting himself in danger as much as possible.” he pauses for a moment, staring at your fake before shaking his head. “[MC] would have never acted so defenseless. what an embarrassing feat. i was acting quite strange.” jade sighs, turning his back towards the trio.

they had all began to complain to jade, asking why he would believe such fake things. dream you broke into tears, curling in floyds arms with a sob. jade would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous, but it’s not the real you so he’ll hold back. a little. they all clung onto jade, begging him to reconsider his decision before he finally spared them a word.

“can you please not touch me? creepy.” with a quick slash, the floyd and azul clones were reduced to goo. jade looked at the fake you, slightly hesitating at your trembling figure. alas, they were spared no expense and fell back into the darkness, crying his name and dragging out each syllable.

“no mercy..” idia stuttered, chewing on his nail. “he was protecting them with his life, only to end them once he realized they were fake.” jamil states, scratching his chin while replaying the scene back in his head. “scary..” idia murmurs. “finally awake, jade?” floyd punches his brothers arm, earning a chuckle. “yes, thank you.”

they share a laugh before hitting each other suddenly, startling each and every one of you. “floyd, you dare have hurt your own brother? i thought my whole body was going to fall apart. have you no mercy on your own blood? how terrible.” jade wiped away a tear, floyd not buying it for a single second.

“jade leech.” his banter was cut short by the sounds of your voice, your stern tone telling that this will not end well for him. “w-why, [MC]! how might i be of service.?” jade smiles, remaining his composure well. “don’t “how might i be of service” me! you have some serious explanation to do once we’re out of this stupid dream.” you scowl, staring him down with an intimidating glare.

jade, seemed unfazed. he was certainly embarrassed, but who is he to let it show? “oh dear, is it quite wrong for one to dream of their mate while asleep?” he shakes his head, catching you off guard. “mate?” everyone collectively questions. “uhm, yeah. do you guys not notice?” floyd scratches the back of his neck as if it were the most obvious thing.

what the hell is he talking about? mate? what.. when? that’s.. it’s not possible. “what are you on about, leech?” you sneer, causing him to grab your hand with a smile. “would you care for me to show you?” he grins teasingly, pulling you in til you rested on his chest. “hey! why you—“

“enough. you two are more than free to discuss this mishap after malleus is defeated. right now, we’ve got bigger problems to focus on.” jamil frowns, separating you two from each other. “..right. im not done with you yet.” you glare at the eel in front of you, much to his amusement. “i look forward to it.”

despite the topic being held for later, you couldn’t help but let jade’s words and fantasies linger in your mind for a moment longer. the statements he had said, the actions he had performed, all of it made you feel.. special.

“he dreams of me?”

A/N: i got lazy at the end whoops. anyways what if i write a jamil one?? double anyways what if jamil and jade love triangl— *gunshots*

im not used to writing long fics for characters by themselves and i think you can tell

date published: 8/22/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[lilianasgrimoire]

Herbs & Correspondences G-L

Galangal Root - Also called Lo John the Conqueror or Lo John. Carry into legal proceedings to help win. Money, gambling and hex breaking.  Also aids luck and psychic development. Element Fire. 

Garlic - Magical uses include speed, health and endurance, also protection, exorcism and purification. Use also to promote your inner strength.  Element Fire. 

Gentian - Increases spell power. Good luck and works well in love & romance spells. Element Fire. 

Ginger - Increases magic power. Success, love, money and power.  Element Fire. 

Ginseng - Promotes love, beauty, healing and lust.  Element Fire. 

Hawthorn Wood- Associated with Beltane. Magical uses include chastity, fertility, fairy magic, fishing magic, and rebirth.  Success in career, work, and employment. Use it to work with the fae. Used in weddings and handfasting's to increase fertility. Element Water.  Hawthorne Berries aid chastity. Hope, protection and happiness. Element Fire.  

Hearts Ease - Also called Violet.  It helps to mend a broken heart. Aids rebirth, peace, wishes and luck.  Calms the nerves and promotes peace and tranquility. Element Water.  

Hemlock - Use to paralyze a situation and a funeral herb. Highly Toxic.  Element Water.   

Henbane - Dried leaves are used in the consecration of ceremonial vessels. Used in love sachets and charms to gain the love of the person desired. Highly Toxic. Element Water.  

Hibiscus - Attracting love and lust.  Use in divination. Associated with lunar magic.  Element Water. 

High John - (The Conqueror) An "all purpose" herb.  Use it for strength, confidence, conquering any situation.  Good luck, prosperity and protection. Element Fire.   

Holly Hock - Protecting, all Fairy magic, abundance, personal growth and aids passing. Related to Lammas. Element Earth. 

Horehound - Protective against evil doings. Helps with mental clarity during ritual; stimulates creativity/inspiration; balances personal energies and healing.  Element Earth.  

Horsetail - Use for strength and resolve. Protection, cleansing and clearing unwanted emotions.  Element Earth. 

Hyssop - Used for purification.  Banishing, protection and healing.  Element Fire. 

Irish Moss - Used for luck. Ideal for gamblers!  Attracts money and customers for self-employed. Offers protection. Element Water 

Ivy - Protection, healing and fertility.  Use for love and hang at handfasting's.  Element Fire. 

Jasmine - The herb of attraction.  Helps prophetic dreaming, money and love. Element Water. 

Juniper - See Cedar berries.  

Lady's Mantle - Aphrodisiac and transmutation. Use in love spells and those of fertility.  Increases magic power in spells and connects with fairy lore. Element Water. 

Laurel- See Bay leaf. 

Lavender - Magical uses include healing, sleep and peace. It also promotes chastity and love. Increases longevity of life, tranquility and happiness.  Element Air. 

Lemon Balm - Also called Melissa. Love, success and healing.  Aids psychic/spiritual development. Supports mental health disorders and compassion. Element Water.     

Lemon Grass - Psychic cleansing and opening.  Use in lust potions and when using Dragon Magic.  Element Air.  

Licorice Root - Love, lust, and fidelity. Also attracts passion. Element Water. 

Lilac - Wisdom, memory, good luck and spiritual aid.  Element Water. 

Linden Flower - Wisdom, justice, love and protection. Element Air. 

Lime Tree Leaf - Healing, calm and love.  Aids strength and tranquility.  Element Air. 

Little John - See Galangal root. 

Lungwort - Use in air magic or as an offering to the Gods of air.  Offers safe travel when flying. Element Air.  

[makenoplans]

all gale banter! (that i am currently aware of)

hiii gale enthusiasts, i just spent the past few hours picking through videos trying to find all of gales party banter and transcribing it! check under the cut for verbose details

copied directly from the doc i transcribed this into so youll have to bear with the initials to denote who is speaking when! generally speaking, initials are a=astarion, g=gale, h=halsin, j=jaheira, k=karlach, l=lae'zel, m=minthara, s=shadowheart, and w=wyll

(except for two minsc quotes that are also m, both where he mentions his name so like... it's obvious)

transcribed with attention paid to particular noises characters make that aren't quite whole words and also words that are emphasized!

please let me know if youre aware of any banter ive missed!

warning: long

G: Karlach! A hypothetical question for you. If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another… unnamed individual, erm, what might that someone… do about it?

K: Whoever it is, just talk to them, Gale! And leave out the hypotheticals.

G: Talking. Right! I'm good at that!

A: So, Gale, how is your sad, hopeless pining going?

G: [Ach!] I'm hardly pining! Been a year or more since Mystra cast me aside!

A: Oh, my dear wizard, I wasn't talking about Mystra.

W: I used to believe the beauty of first love was unable to be surpassed, but Gale, you are so much more tolerable now that you've found your second.

G: I'll take that comment with the sincerity and good will I assume it was intended.

G: Have you noticed any attachments of the more, er, romantic variety flourishing in our camp, Wyll?

W: I think I'm not the right person to be asking. I can recognize a troll silhouette on a far horizon, but I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

G: I see you waste no time pursuing your quarry, Astarion.

A: Hmph! I rather thought I was a little slow this time. Usually they're begging me to dream them on the first night.

G: Tell me - you always woo your lovers with such patient attention?

A: As the vampire ascendant I can grant my lover immortality and bind them to me forever.

G: Hmm. I trust you speak of the bonds of love, not the shackles of servitude.

G: Am I to understand that you are in love now, Karlach?

K: I sure am. [heh] If there's hope for me, there's hope for anyone.

G: I'm surprised you're permitted to choose a partner outside of your own people.

L: We had to use and misuse each civilization in the stars in every way we know. I do not conquer by blade alone, Gale.

G: I can't imagine Mother Gith would approve. Doesn't she prefer us lesser species enslaved? Or eviscerated?

M: You've been smiling like a fool of late, wizard. Explain yourself.

G: I found love. Surely even you wouldn't begrudge me some happiness?

M: All I can say on the matter is that you were wise to lower your standards from the godly to the ghastly.

G: Tell me, Lae'zel: is it common for githyanki to fall in love?

L: Love? Is that this feeling in me, then? This passion to peel every layer of one's heart to see what light and shadows lurk there? I doubt I am the first githyanki to… to feel this way, but few would ever declare it. Githyanki have playmates, thrill partners but I've never heard anyone profess love, nor read of it in our slates.

L: Gale, I've heard you talking in your sleep. Your mate needs better rest for our journey.

G: And deprive them of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations? I'd never be so cruel. The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.

G: If you're feeling faint after your bout with Cazador, Astarion, I don't mind donating some blood.

A: Aha! Well, you're still full of that Netherese bile, I'll pass, thank you! Besides, I have someone else to nibble on, and they are delicious.

G: I'm glad to know you have a softer side, Minthara. I was beginning to think you rather… heartless.

M: Loving another is not soft, wizard. It is one of the hardest things a person can do.

G: So you admit you found love! Aww. How delightful. I'm happy for you both.

A: So, how was your night with Gale? Did you have a long, hard debate?

G: Ugh. Ignore him. Astarion envies the depth of a bond because he's of a shallower inclination.

G: So Astarion, I hear your relationship has taken on a new aspect recently.

A: My life has taken on "a new aspect." It's only natural that my relationships change as well.

G: Halsin! You must have accumulated considerable wisdom on matters of the heart in your long life. Anything you'd like to pass on to a… strapping, lovestruck wizard such as myself?

H: [hehehe] Dispensing advice on matters of the heart would be like swapping boots. What suits me may be a… poor fit for you.

G: Ah. Well. There's no faulting that logic. At least you didn't tell me to "be myself."

H: Oh no, perish the thought. That can be outright cruel advice to offer in certain cases.

G: Indulge me, Lae'zel, as someone unfettered by Faerunian beauty standards: how would you appraise my appearance?

L: Your beard looks like the hairy tufts upon the [surlon], the largest of wyrmkind that sliver our skies.

G: Hm. I suppose that's… a bad thing? No. Don't answer that.

G: Wild-shaping must sprinkle some spice on your love life, Halsin.

H: Heh. Indeed it does. Did you… never experience such delights with Mystra? I, uh, hear the gods enjoy taking on the forms of swans, horses, eagles and the like when… visiting with mortals?

G: Oh no, quite the opposite, actually! She mostly preferred our interactions to be abstract, and incorporeal. Most invigorating.

G: So, Lae'zel, have you ever been tempted to use psionics in your, uh, romantic endeavors?

L: Only once. Did you know, in low-gravity settings, githyanki can maintain aerial suspension for hours at a time?

G: Fascinating! I think the arch-mage Tasha described a spell with similar affect! I really must look that up.

G: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Passionate! Primal! Capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort - or - inflicting the profoundest damage.

L: That's… pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But… now I will.

G: I've been pondering something, Lae'zel. Why is it that githyanki have bellybuttons, hm? When they hatch from eggs?

L: I did not grant you permission to gaze upon my midriff.

G: I- I wasn't gazing! Merely observing! Though that can hardly be said for a certain someone else.

G: Y'know, Karlach, there are other ways to express love beyond run-of-the-mill physicality.

K: Ugh! Are you going to try and teach me about exceptional uses for a mage hand or what?

G: W-well actually, I was thinking of poetry!

K: Oops. Sorry. But, uh, now that I think of it… is mage hand especially hard to learn?

G: Even shaped by shadow as it is, Sharran architecture has a kind of beauty to it.

K: Beautifully intimidating. This place was meant to scare people into submission.

G: There you go. Cutting right through the ephemera to the heart of the matter. Hm! Your finest quality, I think.

K: Uh. Here I thought I rubbed you the wrong way.

G: Nothing wrong with a bit of friction now and then. You help me keep my mind sharp.

K: Aw, thanks, pal! I think.

G: When we met, Shadowheart, your gaze seemed to linger in the distance on some unseen goal, some insubstantial purpose. But I notice now your gaze settles on something or someone much closer.

S: Is it that obvious?

G: Of course! There's nothing escapes a wizard's powers of observation.

A: I gave my return to Baldur's Gate a lot of thought. I never pictured this, though.

G: Ah, what did you have in mind? A quiet party? Toasting your own return with a few good friends?

A: Less "quiet party with friends", more "days of hedonistic debauchery", but otherwise… yes!

G: Hmm. Sounds like a recipe for disaster. But you know what? I'm learning to enjoy the taste of chaos. Count me in.

G: I've heard that in Baldur's Gate, "wizard" is also a term used for one who eschews their more, [hr-hrm] carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll?

W: Where are we going with this, Gale?

G: Oh, nowhere. Just think it's a rather cruel misnomer, not at all reflective of the glamor wizarding life affords.

A: So Gale, you laid with a goddess? You must have some sordid tales to tell.

G: Sordid? I lay with the Mother of Magic herself! What we had was… transcendent. Euphoric. Incandescent. Not sordid!

A: You actually made sleeping with a goddess sound boring. Hm. Incredible.

A: I am enjoying our walks together, aren't you, Gale?

G: Uhh… sure! In silence.

G: When you've loved a goddess as I have, people often think you less experienced in the way of romance.

S: She just lives on another plane! [heh] Only jesting. I'm in no position to judge, especially after what happened with Shar.

G: It's true for a time, I neglected the physical in favor of celestial euphoria. But our relationship was no less real for it.

G: I feel I've been rather hasty to judge you, Astarion. One heartbreak was quite enough for me, but to experience it as many times as you have… must change a person.

A: Thank you, Gale, but let us both hope that broken hearts are a thing of the past.

A: So, do you have loves waiting for you once this is all over?

G: You know what, that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.

S: You mean just… waiting? Like a lovesick puppy?

M: Do you have elder siblings, wizard?

G: You're about to say something awful, aren't you?

M: In Menzoberranzan, after a house has two sons, every subsequent male-born child is slaughtered at birth, as it is useless, even for breeding. You have the aura of a third child about you.

G: The architect who built this must have been remarkable. Pity their vision didn't stand the test of time.

K: All's not lost. I mean, just look at this place!

G: You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you?

K: Hope keeps you going.

K: So Gale, got any book recommendations for me?

G: You can read?

K: Hmph. Yes, very funny. I can read. School put me off big, boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing.

G: Ah! Say no more. I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep, ooh.

K: Ooh, something with magic please! And no devils!

G: Do you feel that? The darkness, pulling at the strands of the Weave?

K: Er, you'll still be able to do your wizard thing though, right?

G: Of course. Doesn't make the shadows less dangerous.

K: Joy.

M: Gale. Minsc worries you might send a fireball up his butt with all of this… stringy hair in your face.

G: Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed it was a custom of some sort.

M: Oh, no. Most warriors of [Rashinan] wear long battle braids weighed down with stone. Minsc can show you, when next we camp.

G: Thank you, but I'm more wizard than warrior. Not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting.

A: Gods! We're not back, are we?

G: On the Nautiloid, no. This is a different nursery. Similar, but not identical. There's likely one in every colony.

A: I don't care what's in every mind flayer colony, Gale. Nobody does. Except you.

A: Ugh, another ruined temple full of foul-smelling beasts spoiling for a fight.

G: No mere temple. This was a monastery, devoted as much to study as to worship.

A: Oh, how ignorant of me. So it'll be free of foul-smelling beasts then?

G: Quite the opposite. Some monastic orders celebrated their pungency as proof of their devotion. "To think is to stink" was the motto of one ill-fated brotherhood near Arm. Oh! Huh, but you meant beasts of the life-threatening variety. Yes I'm sure it's teeming with those.

A: Moonlanterns to keep the curse back? Burly guards to fight off any monsters? I could get used to this place.

G: Don't get too comfortable. We shouldn't overstay our welcome in such a place.

A: No, of course! Why stay somewhere safe and comfortable when we could be in mortal peril?

H: Ah, Last Light Inn. Half aglow and lanterns lit. Just like a hundred years ago.

G: I imagine the vista was more idyllic back then. As were its patrons' chances of surviving the walk home.

H: [Grunt.] Still though, when you are expecting nothing but desolation, even a small glimmer of hope fills the heart. To think long ago, the druids feared this market down would grow into a city and threaten nature's realm… little did we realize what the true threat was.

G: Divination is a skill few can master. The rest of us must simply muddle along, content to view the past with a clarity the future rarely offers.

H: Perhaps I can yet turn hindsight into foresight, provided the curse is lifted. The better way for all. Whole generations were denied their chance to flourish… I must put this right, for them.

A: That orb seems powerful. What could it do once it's extracted?

G: Nothing good can come of it unless it is contained. Why.

A: It might be useful. Who knows?

G: I must tell you, Shadowheart, the bathing waters here leave much to be desired. The ablutions offered at the Temple of Beauty in Waterdeep were far superior - and, they have the most excellent soaps.

S: Hmm. I was wondering why you always smelled like a wealthy dowager.

A: From sweet woodland to stinking swamp. Can you do tricks like that, Gale?

G: Easiest thing in the world. Though I'd do it the other way around.

H: Brickwork and stonework. This place is far out of balance with nature, but the Oak Father will reclaim this all eventually.

G: Not too soon, I hope! I've a craving for a soft bed, a hot bath, and a large glass of Arabellan Dry. None of which I've ever found hidden under a log.

H: Hah, you may thrive, but what of other life? A city is no place for wild creatures.

G: Cities teem with life! Rats, pigeons, flies… they count no less, for all their more pestilent qualities.

G: The Society of brilliance has quite the reputation. Even Waterdhavian academics refer to their works from time to time.

S: They talk a great deal but do very little. Which may be for the best.

G: I take it you're not inclined to study the wonders of the Underdark?

S: Its inhabitants and cultures, maybe. Its fungi and cave slime, no thank you.

W: Ethel mentioned Netherese magic. What in blazes does that mean?

G: Magic from the fallen empire of Netheril. Ancient. Exceedingly dangerous. And quite unrivalled.

A: Wonderful. I'd hate to be destroyed by any common old magic.

G: Home and hearth, reduced to ruins. The shadow curse stole more than the light from this place.

H: That is why it must be stopped. Imagine a whole century of life and love denied the chance to ever take place.

G: A hidden shrine dedicated to the Moonmaiden herself. Even amidst this darkness, Selunites are stubborn enough to cling on.

K: Pretty beautiful, isn't it?

G: Look around you! Indulge your curiosity! Sorcerous Sundries is the finest purveyor of magical miscellany for miles around.

K: Where's the axes?

G: What they sell is far more precious than mere sword or shield! They sell knowledge! Ingenuity! The wisdom of mages past.

K: [yawns] Ugh, sounds like more your thing than mine.

K: Doing alright, Gale?

G: Oh, you know. Still alive and kicking despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of… darkness and decay.

K: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

G: It strikes me that, for a mind flayer colony, there are remarkably few mind flayers about the place.

K: Squiddies have gone to war, is my guess.

G: On the Absolute's behalf? Now there's an alliance I'd've been quite happy without.

K: Aw, man, adventuring is thirsty work.

G: There used to be a monastery in this region known for producing a wonderful ale.

K: Ah, that sounds like heaven. Wait. Used to?

G: Oh yes, long ruined, I'm afraid. No chance of a frothing pitcher awaiting us there, but still. At least your thirst for knowledge is quenced!

K: Ugh!

W: It might seem a bit ramshackle, but this place is a boastworthy bar.

G: A bar is only as good as its cellars. Which vintages can we expect on its racks?

W: Here, a bottle is judged more by its ability to crack heads than the quality of its contents.

G: Ah. If that's the main criteria then I shall reset my expectations accordingly. Water it is!

K: We're not taking a boat to Baldur's Gate, right?

G: And give the Absolute free reign to use us as target practice from the banks? I think not!

K: Ugh. My mum always said the Chionthat was unlucky.

G: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep?

K: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say… a long way away.

G: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. No matter. What she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway.

G: Nothing like a brisk stroll through the forest to invigorate the spirit.

K: I was just thinking the same thing! But… poetically.

G: And without so much as a stirring from our tadpoles.

K: A girl could get used to this.

L: These children and their pets lack discipline. Were they githyanki, I'd recommend further training.

G: Not everyone approaches the raising of their young with such militaristic vigor.

L: That is the very purpose of training. To determine which children shall be warriors, and which are suited to other roles. As for the unruly animals, they would make for nutritious marching rations.

G: Mm, that's certainly one way to make them behave.

L: These flowers are quite vivid, not to mention pungent. Not to my liking.

G: Are there no flowers in [tunirath]?

L: In the city of death, the m'lar cultivate the fruiting bodies that sprout from the corpses of the slain.

G: Huh. I'd rather get them from my florist in Waterdeep, if it's all the same to you.

G: That zaith'isk you mentioned intrigues me. Care to tell me a bit more?

L: An intricate device crafted by m'lar, our most gifted artisans. I am sworn to say no more.

S: Why must the Dead Three be so obvious and ugly with their decor? Blood and bones, bones and blood… Pointy nonsense. At least Shar had some panache.

G: As did Mystra's home on Elysium. Her ribbed vaults and buttresses created a magic entirely of their own… not to mention their pleasure domes.

S: Hah! Pleasure dome.

G: It's a perfectly legitimate architectural feature!

G: The road to Baldur's Gate is a long one. Who knows how long it'll take these folks to get there on foot.

S: If they make it. They're slow, vulnerable. Half or more will die long before Basilisk Gate.

G: Doesn't seem to trouble you a jot.

S: What good would it do for me to be troubled? We can't save them all.

S: You seem to know a good deal about our condition, Gale.

G: Everything, really. Not to put too fine a point on it.

S: A humble specimen, aren't you?

G: On occasion.

G: They're not mutually exclusive! The weave is served best with a dash of eloquence.

G: There's magic here, but it's of a rancid, impure form. Nothing like the true Weave at all.

L: This is why I appreciate a sharp blade to a ball of fire or a bolt of lightning. The Weave is inconsistent, unruly.

G: The Weave is constant, but its users - anything but. We must be on our guard.

L: A githyanki warrior hardly needs to be told that.

L: What is this? This place makes me feel sad, melancholy.

G: Ah, so you're susceptible to the tragedy of a broken home. Maybe you've more in common with us weaker beings than you thought.

L: There's no call to be insulting.

G: Not to diminish our efforts, but. Was rather simple getting here in the end, wasn't it?

L: The obstacles ahead prove to be higher still, which will make the pleasure of overcoming them all the more potent. Imagine the glorious din of it all, the streaming banners, the charging knights. The piles of severed limbs and heads.

G: Mm, I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you.

G: Whatever I expected to find lurking in this cursed gloom, it certainly wasn't this. A glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

S: That's one way of looking at it. You could also say it's a prime target, the one pocket of light in the gloom.

G: Oh pragmatism, thy name is Shadowheart. You're not wrong, though. Best we keep our sojourn here to a minimum.

G: So! Shadowheart. Such a name implies yours is a difficult heart to find.

S: It's not that hard to find. Perhaps any difficulty is more telling of you, Gale.

G: I always wondered what a vampire's lair would look like. Can't say I pictured it being quite this… theatrical.

L: I find it surprisingly similar to Queen Vlaakith's aesthetic.

G: That makes sense. She does have a flair for the dramatic.

G: No day, no night. It's as though time itself has abandoned this place. Similar to the Astral Plane in some ways, wouldn't you say, Lae'zel?

L: Mm, hardly. It is said that the Astral Plane is threaded with light and silver, life-giving and wondrous in all directions. Nothing like this dismal abyss.

G: Tell me, Lae'zel, what is it like on the Astral Plane? Your home realm intrigues me.

L: Githyanki lay their eggs on other planes. They cannot mature in the Astral.

L: A tadpole nursery, as on the Nautiloid.

G: Quite right, so long as the attempt won't leave us similarly dismantled.

L: Caution is commendable. Boldness is extraordinary. In this case, I recommend the latter.

W: You're an impressive fighter, Gale. You should consider a new name.

G: I take it you have some suggestions?

W: The Wizard Wonder. Or, how about… the Master of the Weave?

G: Tempting, but I think we already have the maximum number of theatrical titles.

G: Pigeons, gulls, sparrows. These streets would make a fine hunting ground for a tressym like Tara.

M: In the Underdark, we have packs of winged hounds to deal with vermin like your precious Tara.

G: Flying hounds? Come now, you're pulling my leg. Aren't you?

M: Yes, I am. It is the bats that would make a meal of her.

M: Umberlee. Her clerics possess a nasty streak as wide as her oceans.

G: So their reputation suggests, especially among the good folk of Waterdeep. I'm curious to learn how you fell foul of them.

M: Blasphemy, said the temple priestess, but Minsc says do not give horns to your statues if you do not wish the visitors to try and make them toot.

G: Yes. That would probably do it.

W: I admire your courage, Gale.

G: Thank you! Any particular reason?

W: Between the orb and the bug, you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers.

G: What can I say? Mother always told me to be a gracious host.

G: My, my. Well I'll say this for the bonecloaks: they know their mushrooms.

S: Perhaps they should expand their horizons. Too much time spent obsessing over fungi seems to leave them a bit, well… like them.

G: Oh, a byproduct of their profession. Few can spend a lifetime inhaling fungal spores without turning out a bit… muddled between the years.

W: This is it, Gale. Today, we annihilate the heart of the Absolute's power.

G: Entirely unnecessary. Though, if they are so inclined, I might be convinced to share a stanza or two of my own for inspiration! Whatever outcome of what's just ahead… it will be the stuff of legends.

G: I knew you were a graceful man, Wyll, but I hear you're quite the dancer, too! I've been known to trip the light fantastic myself. Mine was a popular hand at the annual Blackstaff's Ball.

W: I'd have loved to have witnessed it, Gale. I wager you are as elegant on the dance floor as you are on the battlefield.

S: What did you mean before, Gale? "A woman with shadows for eyes", you said.

G: Merely that if the eyes are the mirror to the soul, yours have dark curtains across the mirror. No offense taken, I hope.

S: Not necessarily. I haven't made up my mind about you yet.

A: Ever heard of a vampire called Cazador, Wyll?

W: I don't think so, no. Why? Friend of yours?

G: He's patriarch of the Szarr family. Nasty fellow, if the histories are accurate.

A: I imagine they are.

L: The right of these prisoners to die in mortal combat was stolen from them.

G: Hardly the worst atrocity the Absolute's committed.

L: One of many, but by no means the least. To die properly is a matter of honor.

W: This is no aimless horde. The Absolute's forces are organized. What do you make of it, Gale?

G: All enemies have some chink in their armor, no matter how much they like to believe themselves invulnerable.

W: And if we don't find any clear weakness?

G: Then we hope our mutual strengths are enough to dominate them. Or! We die nobly in the attempt.

G: I was wondering about your queen, Vlaakith. What tales of her reach us are terrifying. I suppose that's not how you would describe her.

L: Vlaakith is unity. Fear and beauty, life and unlife… eyes like onyx, teeth like daggers. There is none more perfect.

S: Sounds vile. I assume the meaning of perfect was lost in translation.

G: Moonrise Towers lies ahead. We're nearing the heart of the Absolute, I'm certain of it.

W: Then let us push forward, head high, weapons in hand, and turn this tower to rubble.

G: Your confidence is encouraging, but a little premature. Let's keep our eyes on the task ahead- or eye, as the case may be.

W: Who's in charge of the mind flayers, Lae'zel? Is there a squid king or something?

L: No. Each ghaik is servant to an elder brain. No king unites elders, only their collective tyranny.

G: A mind flayer monarch! Imagine that. Such a thing could shatter worlds!

K: Ready to enter the belly of the beast?

G: Ugh. It's the stairs I'm dreading.

G: No sign of tentacles so far.

S: The same. Except for a knot of worry in my stomach that's in no rush to go away.

G: That I can relate to.

G: The masons here thought they were building something to last. How wrong they were.

W: Perhaps it's a blessing that none of them survived to see it fall to the shadows.

G: No need for such a grim assumption. Halsin helped many to escape these shadows before the town was consumed.

W: Then some masons were more blessed still, if they could put their talent to use elsewhere. Perhaps some of their work even graces Baldur's Gate.

S: You seemed quite forward with your compliments earlier. We'd only just met.

G: Seize the day, I say. More now than ever.

S: Careful you don't pull a muscle in this place.

S: Isn't it so that every time you speak as you cast a spell, you're endeavoring to call upon Mystra? I'm surprised she still listens to you.

G: She has no choice. She's sworn to hear all magic users. Even me. I'm sure she at least stuffs her fingers in her ears to muffle my invocations.

G: The history of the city itself is captured in the archives here. A fascinating resource.

W: I wonder what those archives will reveal about us a hundred years hence.

G: Only the most excellent and complimentary things. With some encouragement from us, of course.

G: Look at this place. Such horrors defy description.

S: Silence can be best. Give it a try sometime.

S: What if this creche doesn't work out, Lae'zel? What if your kin fail you?

L: If I can reach the creche, my kin will provide. Any failure will be mine alone.

S: If you say so. Just don't expect me to put all my eggs in the same basket.

G: That expression must sound curious to a githyanki ear, given the way they're birthed.

G: Gods. Who knew such a vile abscess lurked in the bedrock of this city? The very stone reeks of misery and despair.

J: Mm. A sad shrine kept by the lunatic and the lost. The last time I was here, I promised myself I would die beneath open sky. I have not changed my mind.

G: Nor should you. Far better to feel a cool breeze on your skin than whatever foul expirations blow through these halls.

A: Eh, can't say I love what they've done with the place.

G: Unsurprising, really. Fanatical cultists tend to care more for ambience then aesthetics.

A: Hrm. Reason enough to put them all to the sword, I say.

A: Heh, what's this? A clever little hideaway. A little too clever, if you ask me. Watch out for traps.

G: Not just clever. Rather ingenious! Somehow its construction keeps the shadow curse away.

S: The end must be near. No regrets, Gale? You may have been better off staying inside this boulder.

G: Unlikely. Had I stayed there much longer, the orb would have reduced it to rubble. Besides, think of all the fun I'd've missed out on.

S: Fun? Well, yes… I suppose we did manage to make the best of things.

[runninriot]

written for the @steddiemicrofic birthday bonus round to celebrate @steddieas-shegoes 🥳🖤

Surprise!

prompt: birthday | wc: 290 | rated G

"Thanks for coming. Take care. Okay, yeah, see you soon!"

Steve waves his visitors goodbye while slowly pushing at the door, exhaling deeply when it finally snaps close. He's exhausted, feels mentally drained and ready for bed despite it only being late afternoon.

Robin, Dustin, and Co came by to surprise him for his birthday and even brought cake. But he couldn't really enjoy himself, not when the most important person is missing.

Eddie is currently on tour with Corroded Coffin to promote their upcoming first record. And Steve's happy for him, of course, he is. It's everything Eddie ever wanted and what kind of boyfriend would he be not to support him unconditionally. But he misses him, especially today.

Steve woke up feeling weirdly emotional. Not because of the whole 'getting older' part, it's just- another year has gone by and he still hasn't figured out what to do with his life. He'll be stuck in Hawkins forever while Eddie is out there successfully chasing his dreams, will undoubtedly soon take off to conquer the world and-

The doorbell rings, drags Steve out of his thoughts.

"Forgot something Henderson?"

"Surprise!"

Steve thinks he must be dreaming when he's greeted by another familiar face.

"Eddie?! Aren't you supposed to- Why are you here?"

"Couldn't miss my boyfriend's birthday, could I?"

"But what about-" Eddie silences him with a deep kiss.

"We took two days off. Gotta go back tomorrow."

"You came all this way just to be with me for one day?"

"I'd do anything for you. I love you, baby."

Steve feels tears burning in his eyes, his heart is bursting with love as he realises: it doesn't matter where their life will take them, they'll always be together.

[aajjks]

Choice (m)

synopsis. Your tears were his ointment for the pain you caused him by escaping.

pairing. yandere mafia!ex boyfriend!jungkook x fem!captive reader.

warnings. yandere themes, extreme possessiveness, obsession, degradation, mentions of kidn-pping, mentions of a g-n, mafia!, sadistic!jungkook, hard yandere!jungkook, hostage/captor au, ex!boyfriend au. he is not cute at all in this yikes.

disclaimer: This one is pretty triggering and dark, viewer discretion is heavily advised! This is purely fictional so please keep in mind that this does not represent jungkook of bts irl! DO NOT ROMANTICISE THIS BEHAVIOUR!

note. NEW JUNGKOOK UNLOCKED! share feedback? ENJOY. *not edited*

He’s so glad that he was the one in control.

Jungkook starred at your figure, his eyes calculating as he watched your body squirm, fat tears lining around your lashes, your mouth gagged so you couldn’t scream.

He was loving it.

“Baby, stop struggling, or you can continue to hurt yourself.” He liked to be cruel, it gave him such pleasure. “You look so pretty like this, in all honesty,” he leaned closer to your face.

“You knew I’d find you.”

The armchair creaking as he moved his weight to stare you even closely, there was something so beautiful about your pretty face.

Especially when it was stained with your tears.

Jungkook loved it when you cried, the sounds you made? The way you looked at him so helplessly made his pants grow tighter immediately.

You were really fragile, he loved that about you. It wasn’t like you were physically fragile. Oh no.

It was your heart and your feelings that he loved to hurt so much. Because they were too damn fragile. He could stomp on your heart and then pick it up and kiss your heart.

Jungkook knew you two were not a match, and if you were? You were a match made in hell.

You were too innocent for someone so sadistic and fucked up like him, that’s why he grew so obsessed with you in a span of six months. Jungkook loved you in his own fucked up way.

So much that it was suffocating.

“How long are you going to cry huh? Your eyes are starting to swell, princess..” Jungkook clicked his tongue.

He loved you a lot but there was a limit to it.

He was never going to change himself for you, you had to understand that you couldn’t leave him just because you wanted to, just because you couldn’t handle the fact that he was a mafia don and a cruel man.

No, you had no choice.

“See, now you brought this upon your own head Y/N.” Jungkook sighed deeply, his words shouldn’t hurt you, he thought, you had known him for almost a year now.

You should know a lot better than you were acting like.

But he was always willing to forgive you.

“Why did you leave me? Huh? Who allowed you? How fuckin dare you!” He got up from his arm chair, sliding his hand down over to his white shirt, as if dirt was on it.

Jungkook focused his now angry gaze on you, glaring daggers into your face, you could only cry helplessly, blurry eyes at your ex boyfriends face.

You were glad you found out his reality and escaped.

But was it really worth it? This psycho had found within a span of two days. It didn’t take him long, of course.

You were fucked.

Your eyes widened at Jungkook’s next movement as you watched him take out his gun from his pocket.

“Mhmmm!!! MHMMM!~” you screamed into the cloth, spit gathered around the corners of your lips, your eyes crinkled with fear.

“Aw honey, want to speak?, you know I don’t like it when you talk too much, I like it when your pretty little mouth is quite or wrapped around my dick.”

Pervert, asshole!

“I know you’re going to say something to hurt my feelings, that’s all you’re good at, really.” He rubbed the neck of the gun around his jaw, “you drive me so insane, y’know that?” He chuckled, like a maniac.

You could only glare at him.

“Of course you do! That’s why you like it when I chase you, conquer you and punish you.” Jungkook growled, his laughing coming to a halt, his aura shifted.

“How… am I going to punish you this time?” The mafia boss pretended to think, the gun rubbing on his jaw, his hands were so close to the trigger.

“Should I,” he inhaled a deep breath. “Kill your little brother this time?”

The chair shaked violently as you pushed, struggling to break free from his captivity.

But no use.

“You know I can, it would be such a shame though? Princess. He’s such a smart little guy, and he’s pretty adorable too.” Jungkook pursed his lips together, tilting his head towards you even more. 

“So, you’re gonna try and leave me again? It’s going to be your choice princess.”

[writingsofwesteros]

https://www.tumblr.com/writingsofwesteros/765979122428248064/nsfw-quarters-trailer-park?source=share

TWO with Rhea Royce and Rhaenyra’s eldest daughter. Daemon didn't kill her and instead stayed married to her while publicly coupling with and marrying Rhaenyra under the traditions of their house. She didn't mind because she was rid of him and as good as divorced in the eyes of her people. Rhaenyra had tried before to right the wrong between them by inviting her to be both of their wife, seemingly not understanding the mutual hate between the two already. Rhea had sent her a letter telling her as much, but Rhaenyra would still send an encouraging letter every couple years until the woman finally finds it in herself to go to Dragonstone and deny the Princess. When she arrives there, she doesn't expect to find Daemon trying to rub himself against a young brunette's ass while the girl warns him she'll let her mother know every detail of what he does, the man tsking and telling her to stop acting so prudish before leaving her. The girl simply blushes and rolls her eyes before meeting Rhea's intense gaze, her body visibly shuddering as her doe eyes widen. The poor girl was absolutely smitten with the rugged woman! She practically pounced upon her, holding onto her arm and gazing up at her dreamily, pleasantly asking to know the woman's name. Rhea is stunned by the complete turn around and is quickly being pulled to the princess's bedroom where they somehow find themselves fully nude and in the throes of passion. Rhea fingers the young woman and finds satisfaction in knowing she got to her before Daemon fully could, the princess coaxing her to bed and even asking Rhea to teach her how to eat her pussy the way she liked, the older woman smirking and not showing mercy as she rode the girl's face... Rhaenyra gets a bit curious as to where Rhea disappeared to and is only a bit surprised to find her daughter had seduced the woman. Both mother and daughter had similar tastes and Rhea was one tough woman to pass up. Hence why Rhaenyra finds no shame in watching the woman absolutely conquer her all too willing daughter, the smell and sound of sex filling the room while they allow themselves to go wild. Rhea makes sure to stretch the princess nice and good with her fingers all night, wishing she had brought her special toy with her to fully take the girl's firsts from Daemon, the princess's slippery pussy clenching them so hard everytime they brush her g spot. Rhaenyra can't believe it, but even she begins to find an attraction to her daughter as she watches the way she thrashes about in pleasure and listens to her beg to be fucked by Rhea. To taste her pussy while she fingers her into oblivion. To cum all over her tough, calloused fingers. 👑💀

THE HOTTEST!!!!!

Rhea is so hot and she does love the idea of taking something from Daemon thank you very much.

[bangchansdirty-slut]

Hey, I've been reading your stories for a while now and I really like them. I would love it if you could do a shy male reader doing it for the first time with an experienced G!P Chaeyoung or anyone of your choice.

Let Me Teach You

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Paring: Top!GP!Chaeyoung x Bttm!Inexperienced!Male Reader

Genre: Smut

Requested

More: Masterlist

A/n: First Twice fanfic!

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⛦☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

The afternoon air had the scent of autumn leaves, a faint chill hinting at the season's approach. In a quiet apartment complex, the soft hum of a distant radio melded with the rustling of the trees outside. Inside a cozy room, a young man named M/n, his eyes glued to the screen of his phone, read through a series of messages from his new girlfriend, Karina. They had been chatting all day, sharing jokes and stories, and with every exchange, his heart fluttered. He had never felt so alive. Suddenly, the texts grew spicier, more intimate. Karina, it turned out, was feeling adventurous.

M/n's cheeks flushed as he read her words, the blood rushing to his face. She had suggested he come over to her place for the night, hinting at an experience she wanted to share with him. He had always been a bit shy around girls, but with Karina, something was different. Her confidence was infectious, making him feel like he could conquer the world. Swallowing his nerves, he typed out a message agreeing to meet her later that evening.

Everything was fine except one thing, he was virgin and she was not. The thought of this filled M/n with fear. He had heard stories, seen movies, but never experienced it himself. His mind raced with questions about what to expect, what to do, and what not to do. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that his roommate, Chaeyoung, had offered to help him out with the nerves. He had always been curious about her, but their friendship had remained purely platonic. Chaeyoung, with her black hair and piercing eyes, exuded an aura of confidence that could make anyone feel at ease.

M/n gathered his courage and approached her door. He knocked lightly, his heart hammering in his chest. The door swung open, and she greeted him with a knowing smile, her long fingers toying with the neckline of her shirt. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter the room that was a canvas of her artistic soul, filled with paintings and drawings scattered on the floor and walls. She knew what he was about to ask and she nodded before he could even utter a word.

They sat on the bed, her legs crossed comfortably. Chaeyoung spoke in a gentle tone, "You know, everyone's first time is special, and it's okay to be nervous." She took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze, her grip firm and reassuring. "But remember, communication is key. Ask Karina what she likes, what she wants."

M/n nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. He took a deep breath and looked into Chaeyoung's eyes, "But what if I don't…you know…please her?"

Chaeyoung chuckled, a warm sound that filled the room. "Don't worry," she said, her voice a comforting purr, "Pleasure is about more than just the act itself. It's about connection, about making each other feel good." She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But if you want some hands-on experience before the main event, I can give you a little crash course."

M/n's eyes widened, and he felt a thrill run down to his member, which was already standing at attention. Chaeyoung had always been open about her sexuality, but this was the first time she had ever offered something so personal. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should accept her offer. But the thought of being more prepared for the night with Karina was too tempting to resist.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice shaking slightly. Chaeyoung's smile grew, and she leaned in closer. "Just remember," she whispered, "This is just practice. It's nothing more, nothing less."

With that, she began to unbutton her shirt, revealing her toned stomach and the faint outline of something unusual beneath her pants. M/n's eyes followed the movement, a mix of curiosity and anxiety. When her shirt was open, she reached down and unzipped her pants, pulling them down to expose her girlcock. It was soft and pink, a stark contrast to what he had seen in the porn videos he had secretly watched. She noticed his surprise and chuckled, "It's a bit different, I know, but it's all part of the fun."

Her hand wrapped around it gently, giving it a stroke. It began to swell and harden before his very eyes. M/n couldn't help but stare, his own cock now straining against his jeans. Chaeyoung noticed his gaze and gave him a playful wink. "Ready to get your hands dirty?"

He nodded, his breath hitching. Chaeyoung scooted closer, straddling one of his legs. "First things first," she said, taking his hand in hers, "You need to learn how to touch it." She placed his trembling hand on her growing member, guiding him through a series of strokes. "It's all about the rhythm," she coached, her voice low and sultry. "Find what feels good and stick to it."

M/n listened intently, his thumb tracing the velvety skin. The warmth and weight of it in his hand was surprising, and he found himself getting lost in the sensation. Chaeyoung's breath grew heavier, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "Good," she murmured, "Now, let's try some different speeds and pressures."

As he explored her, she began to move her hips, setting a rhythm for him to follow. She was patient, correcting his grip when necessary and praising him when he hit the right spot. M/n's nerves slowly melted away as he focused on the task at hand. The room grew thick with anticipation, the air charged with a tension that was both electrifying and terrifying. His own cock was now painfully hard, begging for attention.

"Remember, it's all about the journey," Chaeyoung breathed, her voice a gentle guide in his ear. "The build-up is just as important as the climax." She leaned back, giving him more space to work. His strokes grew bolder, his confidence swelling with each passing moment. Her skin was smooth and soft, and the way her member responded to his touch was mesmerizing.

He watched as a bead of precum formed at the tip, glistening in the soft light. Chaeyoung took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her chest rising and falling. "You can kiss it," she suggested, her voice barely a whisper. He hesitated, unsure if he was ready for this level of intimacy, but her encouraging gaze spurred him on. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive tip. The taste was faintly sweet and salty, and she let out a soft moan that sent a bolt of excitement through his body.

M/n's strokes grew more confident, and Chaeyoung's hips began to rock in time with his movements. She reached down and began to touch herself, her other hand resting on his shoulder. "This is what you do to get someone ready," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "It's all about making them want more."

Her hand slid down his back, her nails lightly digging into his skin. He could feel her breath on his neck, and it sent shivers down his spine. He leaned in closer, his mouth closing around her cock. The sensation was strange at first, but the way she gasped encouraged him to continue. He took his time, exploring with his tongue and teeth, learning what she liked and what she didn't.

The room was filled with the sound of their combined breaths, the rustling of fabric, and the occasional slap of skin on skin. Chaeyoung's moans grew louder, and she began to thrust into his mouth, her movements more urgent. He could feel her body tensing, her muscles coiling like a spring ready to release. It was a powerful feeling, knowing he had the power to make her feel so good.

Encouraged, M/n's strokes grew faster and more deliberate. He could feel her cock swell in his grip, and he knew she was close. He increased his pace, his tongue flicking against the sensitive underside. Chaeyoung's breath hitched, and she threw her head back, her grip on his shoulder tightening. "O-oh, M/n~," she breathed, "That's…that's so good."

Her hips bucked upward, and she let out a low growl as she came, her warmth filling his mouth. He pulled back, watching as she rode out the waves of pleasure, her chest heaving. She looked down at him, her eyes glazed over with satisfaction. "Good job," she said with a soft smile, her voice hoarse. "Now, it's your turn."

M/n felt his cheeks redden as she turned her attention to him, her hand reaching for his erection. She undid his pants, her movements deft and practiced. "Relax," she murmured, "Let me take care of you."

Her hand wrapped around his cock, her thumb circling the sensitive head. He couldn't believe this was happening—his best friend, the person he had confided in so much, was now touching him in such an intimate way. But as her hand began to pump, the sensations overwhelmed him. It felt incredible, and all he could do was lean back and let her guide him.

"Turn around baby," Chaeyoung murmured, her voice thick with desire. "I'll show you how to get fucked right."

M/n felt his heart hammering in his chest as he did as he was told, turning to face the bed. He couldn't believe this was happening with Chaeyoung, of all people. But the way she looked at him, with hunger in her eyes, made him feel like he was the only person in the world who mattered. She grabbed a bottle of lube from her nightstand, the sound of the cap popping open echoing in the silence. He felt her slick fingers against his skin, spreading him open gently. He gasped at the coldness, but it was quickly replaced by a warm, burning need.

Chaeyoung's hand worked him expertly, her fingers delving into his inexperienced body. He squirmed, his eyes squeezed shut, as she found that special spot that made his toes curl. "Just like that," he heard her murmur, "You're going to feel so good." His breaths grew ragged, his body betraying his nerves as he grew more and more aroused. He felt her shift behind him, her legs straddling his.

The pressure against his hole was sudden, but not painful. Chaeyoung's member nudged at him insistently, and he took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was to come. "Relax," she whispered again, her voice a gentle caress. He felt the head of her cock push into him, and his body tensed. It was strange, but not unpleasant. The sensation of being filled was something new, something he hadn't anticipated.

He could feel her muscles flex as she pushed further, her cock sliding inch by inch into his tightness. He bit his lip, the pressure building until she was fully seated inside him. He took a moment to adjust to the fullness, feeling a mix of discomfort and excitement. "Okay?" she asked, her voice thick with lust. He nodded, his eyes still shut tight.

"Good," she whispered, her breath hot against his neck. She began to move, her hips rolling in a steady rhythm that made his body quiver. M/n felt like he was being split in two, the sensation overwhelming, but he didn't want her to stop. He reached down and took his cock in hand, stroking it in time with her thrusts.

Chaeyoung's grip on his hips tightened, her nails digging in just enough to sting. She started to pick up the pace, her movements growing more demanding. He could hear the wet sounds of their bodies meeting, a symphony of pleasure that was music to his ears. "Harder," he whimpered, his voice barely recognizable. She complied, her thrusts becoming more powerful.

M/n's hand worked in time with hers, the friction on his cock matching the rhythm of her hips. He felt a pressure building within him, a storm gathering strength. Chaeyoung's breath was hot against his neck, her teeth grazing his earlobe. "You're going to come for me," she said, her voice a command and a promise. He couldn't hold back, the feeling too intense. His hand flew over his shaft, his body tense and shaking.

With a final, desperate push, M/n's orgasm hit him like a tidal wave. He came hard, his eyes flying open as he shouted her name, the release so intense that it left his vision spotty. Chaeyoung's movements grew erratic behind him, her breath hot and ragged against his neck. He could feel her cock pulsing inside him, her own climax approaching.

"Fff-uck! C-an I cum inside you?" Chaeyoung's voice was a needy rasp, her grip on his hips tightening. M/n nodded, too overwhelmed by the intensity of his own orgasm to form coherent words. She took that as consent and picked up the pace, her thrusts growing more erratic. He felt the warmth of her seed fill him, her body shaking with the force of her climax. For a moment, they stayed like that, connected in the most intimate way possible, their bodies entwined and panting.

As the aftershocks of pleasure subsided, Chaeyoung pulled out and collapsed beside him, her chest heaving. "How was that?" she asked, her voice a mix of pride and concern. M/n rolled over to face her, his cheeks flushed and eyes glazed with satisfaction. "It was… amazing," he finally managed to say, his voice hoarse.

They laid there in silence for a moment, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing. Chaeyoung leaned over and kissed his forehead, her lips lingering there. "Remember," she said, her voice gentle, "What we did here was just practice. It's okay if it feels weird at first. It's all about finding what feels good for you."

M/n nodded, still processing the overwhelming experience. He had never felt so vulnerable, yet so alive. He turned to face her, looking into her eyes that now held a hint of tenderness. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Chaeyoung smiled, her hand brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. "You're welcome," she said softly. "Now you know what to expect, and I'm sure Karina will love it." Her words were meant to reassure him, but they also stirred a cocktail of emotions inside M/n. The intimacy they had just shared was something he had never expected with her, and it left him feeling both closer and more confused than ever.

Should I make a part two with Karina???

[amethystblooms]

🌸Elain Week. Day Three:

S t r e n g t h

She had looked at it that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger. >a court of thorns and roses, ch. 29<

"Ladies, eternity awaits. Prove to their Majesties the Cauldron is safe for ... strong-willed individuals." >a court of mist and fury, ch. 65<

Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light. >a court of wings and ruin, ch. 15<

“It could make you strong—” “There are many types of strength beyond the ability to wield a blade and end lives. Amren told me that yesterday.” >a court of wings and ruin, ch. 24<

“Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.” >a court of silver flames, ch. 29

──────────────────

@elainarcheronweek 🤍

elain's strength is one of her many amazing qualities.

wielding a weapon, like amren said to nesta, is not the only way you can show strength. especially from a female heroine.

yes, elain showed great strength when she struck the king with truth-teller, but there is a more hidden and different strength within her that we are yet to learn about. i am really excited to see that come to light!

elain is a gentle heart, and there is beautiful strength in her softness and femininity.

her decision to love and be kind despite all the war and hatred is powerful. and love conquers hate.

and that in itself is really strong. 🤍

[base0h]

Hi can I request Sabo , Ace and Luffy bonus if you want to include Shanks or Kid hcs where finding the reader who’s got her/their arm stuck in a vending machine?

Reader called them up for help because they got their arm stuck while reaching for their candy that was RIGHT on the edge and about to fall but wouldn’t. Basically “I paid for the damn candy, I’m going to get my damn candy!”

Please 💗

a/n - um. I did the same thing today 🧍how did you know 😭

Warnings - g/n reader, crack as usual

I’m getting what I paid for

- he’s afraid of vending machines specifically for this reason- he once paid for a fucking OVERPRICED water ($6.00) and it got stuck in the window

- poor guy was devastated, face on the glass and all as he stared at his overpriced Dasani water that seemed to be taunting him from inside the machine.

- came home and almost cried about it to you 😭 but he’s an big man so he held it in. you could tell he cried about it right outside the door before he came home tho.

- but guess what? You gotta conquer your fears right?? 💪🔥

- so, you two were walking around in the city, and damn you were thirsty, so you found a vending machine and took your wallet out. I imagine that Sabo immediately knew what was happening, he sensed the vending machine on his radar of fear

- he stared ominously as you took your wallet out, and as you took a five dollar bill out, you fed it into the machine, pressing the buttons. WHY WAS THE BEEPING SO LOUD ?? Was he sweating? Was it hot there? sabo honey it’s winter

- the machine slowly made the water come out, and it fell as usual, PHEW! Nothing bad happened… Maybe that vending machine was just weird before right?

- you reached into the machine and oh no. it wasn’t there

- “Damn it..”

- cue the dramatic lighting on Sabo- WHAT? IS IT STUCK?

- “These machines are so 50/50-“ -you

- “Is… is it- stuck?” -him

- “Yeah, just gimme a sec.”

- He’s now crying inside. Dead. Wasted.

- “Aw- I’m sorry y/n.. How much was it? We can go get coffee instead!”

- he was so sweet, literally offering anything in the world as if you just lost your dog or something 😭

- you put your hand in his face as you slammed your arm farther into the machine until only your shoulder was visible, and you were literally about to break the machine 😂😂

- mans was shocked- wtf were you doing?! “Y/N- IS YOUR ARM OK?!”

- “Babe- we can get something else!” -sabo

- “I’M GETTING WHAT I PAID FOR EVEN IF I HAVE TO BREAK THIS DAMN MACHINE.”

- you were his hero, his deity, his idol. How were you so brave to stick your hand in the machine? The thing of his nightmares? God he fell in love with you all over again

- he has spoken to the manager about losing 5 dollars to a vending machine (shanks don’t be a Karen)

- will not hesitate to fight the machine if needed 💀 he would put his hands up and shift his dad sandals into sport mode

- why is water so damn expensive? I mean it’s not like he’s poor or anything but DAMN Dasani 😭

- when you two were peacefully trying to get a soda from the vending machine nearby, OF COURSE. IT GETS STUCK.

- shanks tried punching the window, and shaking the whole ass machine and it just would not budge at all. He couldn’t fit his hands far enough inside the machine, so he asked if you could

- after about a solid 10 minutes of you fighting with this machine, he tried to tell you that he could just buy you a soda elsewhere but no. This machine better give you your fucking soda

- “I’m getting what we paid for shanks.”

- man was laughing, wheezing as you tried so many things to grab the soda can. Sticking your whole arm inside, your foot, hell- you even tried fitting your head in there at some point 💀

- finally… YOU GOT IT!

- if shanks had confetti right now he would be dumping it on your head- and you were so proud of yourself (you should be proud)

- “watch out vending machines, Y/N will not hesitate to fight you 💅”

- ace loved getting donuts… donuts, from the vending machines. (Please come and punch me for this joke) and you did too! Especially the little mini ones that just hit the spot :)

- it was your routinely night out with the amazing and wonderful Ace, and you two stopped by your usual vending machine. You fed the machine a 5 dollar bill and just waited for the machine to dump out the donuts

- you saw it fall, but… Why wasn’t it where the little door was? You reached in farther, feeling around for it, but it still wasn’t there…

- Ace just kept watching you struggle (bitch) and the little greasy shit had a grin on his face.

- “Ace it’s stuck!”

- “Yeah i noticed.”

- “Can you help me?”

- “I dunno it seems like you’ve got it! 👍🤭”

- “bitch.”

- after a couple minutes, you finally got it, and you triumphantly opened the pack of donuts. Ace reached out for one but hell nah. The unhelpful bitch wasn’t gonna get any 💀

- “Y/n please I’m sorry-“

- “No.”

- “PLEASEEEEEE?”

- “…no. Bitch.”

- “why are you so mean?” -ace

- “I know you could’ve just broken open the machine and saved me that trouble.”

- “But it’s funny seeing you frustrated with a vending machine!”

- Surprised you haven’t gone broke because this man raids vending machines. Will not leave ANY snack alive. (RIP snacks)

- “Ooo! Y/n that machine has cookies!”

- Your poor wallet was suffering but it’s ok, Luffy’s happiness was all you needed :) so you bought the cookies, and waited for the machine to drop the pack into the dispenser

- “Thanks y/n! You’re the best :D”

- “You’re welcome Lu, but next time please bring your wallet too.”

- The cookies got stuck in the window, DAMN IT! You shook the machine a bit, and it didn’t do much. Luffy reached into the machine with you, trying to grab the snack.

- “Luffy i got it! Take- your arm out!”

- “I’m getting what I paid for though! I want the cookies!” -Luffy

- “Excuse me what YOU paid for?! I paid for it dumbass!”

- you pushed his arm out before you shoved your arm all the way inside, painfully. Bro was shocked, the effort you were putting into getting his snack! He knew you were the best person in the world but this was yet another reminder of that :)

- you finally grabbed it, pulling it out before giving the machine a punch and a glare, “Stupid ass- machine.”

- “I love you y/n!”

- “Yeah Mhm..”

- “Here you can have… one. >:)” -Luffy

- “dumbass you better give me more than one 💀”

a/n - ace is such a bitch but I feel bad about the joke

[slytherheign]

AFTERGLOW | charles leclerc

PART 3/3 OF LOVER: THE TRILOGY.

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

SUMMARY: the dark nights may have already passed but the biggest storm is just beginning. the daylight is becoming harder to be seen, and now you see yourself questioning if love will be enough to conquer all—even the afterglow.

WARNINGS: angst, hate, doubts, cursing/swearing, and arguments. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S FINALLY HERE! this is way overdue and i apologize. i owe you guys a lot of fics for being absent for way too long. this is dedicated to ALL of you! thank you guys so much for the never-ending support.

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO TO TRILOGY MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

At first, it was just a few comments here and there, snide remarks about your differences—how Charles was way too good for you or how you didn't fit into society's expectations. You brushed them off, laughed them away, thinking that their words couldn't penetrate the walls you had built around the two of you.

But little did you know how wrong you were.

The online hate began to escalate, turning into a relentless storm that seemed to follow you wherever you went. Your private moments were invaded, dissected, and judged by people who had no right to pass such harsh judgment. Their words became a constant presence, infecting your mind, and sowing seeds of doubt and insecurity.

“So, she basically has nothing… and then she decides to date Charles, who obviously, has everything. I don’t know about y’all… but I feel like she’s just dating him because she knows he can provide for her.”

“She’s giving me golddigger vibes.”

“No cause fr what the hell did she do to get Charles to fall for her.”

Your eyes were glued to your phone while Charles was making dinner. No matter what application you seemed to open, you were all over social media. After Charles decided to launch your relationship to the public, both your names became trending ever since. 

“Chérie, do you know where the pasta is?” he asked. He was opening the cabinets in the kitchen quite loudly but all the noises were drowned out as you scrolled further down the comments.

“Imagine this… she leaves everything, including her family and friends, just to focus on herself. What makes us think she wouldn’t do the same to Charles?”

“Selfish. That’s one word I would describe her.”

Your hands began to shake and you felt the tears pooling in your eyes. 

“Nevermind. Chérie, I found it!” he cheered.

This time, you heard his voice. Yet again noticing how accomplishing little things seemed to cheer him up. God, he was such a light. His soul was so pure and innocent.

“Charles needs to leave her while it’s still early omg.”

“Give her a few months and we’ll see just how much she’d damage him.”

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed that everyone you come across with ends up in ruins. It was always dreams before relationships for you, life before love, and self before others.

Maybe they were right. You were selfish.

“Either she leaves him or Charles leaves her first. I hope it’s the second one.”

“He needs to escape. She’ll hurt him more the longer he’s with her.”

The more you read their words, the more they were becoming true in your head.

“Charles does not deserve someone like her. I said what I said.”

You glanced at him, his back facing you as he cooked dinner. He was humming a song, a soft song he would always play on his piano for you. It was impossible to stop the tears that started falling. 

You were scared. 

Scared that what they said was true and that the longer you were in his life, the more you’d damage him.

You were scared for him.

And scared of you.

“Pls even her best friend, Charlotte, is better than her.”

“If I was him, I’d leave right this instant.”

You didn’t want to damage him. You didn’t want to taint someone so pure.

What you wanted to do was protect him. Protect him from harm, protect him from any damages, protect him from getting hurt…

“We need to protect Charles from her.”

But what if they were right? 

They were his fans for a reason. They care for him.

Surely, they know what’s best for him…

“When is girlie going to realize that she’s the problem.”

They were right.

You were the problem. 

You were the harm, the person who does the damage, the person who would hurt him.

“I hope they break up. It’s what’s best for Charles.”

Charles took the phone in your hand and threw it on the wall. You stared at him in shock. How long was he behind you? You didn’t even hear his footsteps. Did he see the comments you were reading?

“What the hell are you reading, mon amour?” he asked angrily. But when he noticed you crying, he softened his voice. “I was calling your name, asking you to taste the sauce. You weren’t answering so I decided to come here.”

You stared at your broken phone on the floor. He followed your line of sight.

“I can replace it. Don’t worry about it.”

He put his hand on your cheek, moving your face so you were facing him. 

“I-I don’t know what the other comments said, I only read about the last few ones,” he wiped your tears. “And I can assure you, I won’t break up with you. I’ll never do that.”

“Maybe you should,” you replied.

“Mon amour, I understand what you’re feeling right now. You’re not used to online hate and strangers on the internet criticizing you, but I am. And the best thing we can do is ignore them. They have no idea what happens behind closed doors and cameras. They know nothing.”

“Charles, they’re your fans. They were there for you even before I came into your life.”

“That doesn’t mean they know everything about me.”

“I don’t know, Charles…” you turned your face away from him, his hands dropping from your face in the process. You slightly distanced yourself from him.

Their words were poison and they went straight to your head. It was painful to admit, but you started questioning the strength of your relationship. How could you build a future amidst the chaos and resentment? You tried not to pay them attention, to convince yourself that love could conquer all, but the weight of the hate grew heavier with each passing day.

“Do I really mean that little to you?” Charles asked suddenly.

You blew things out of proportion, and now he was blue.

You looked back at him but you kept your distance.

“Why would you think that?” 

“Because you’re just throwing everything away like the last two years didn’t exist.” 

“Charles, no–that’s not—” you walked closer to him but he was the one who distanced himself this time.

“I’ve fought for this relationship, for you—time and time again. And you can’t do the same?”

You were speechless.

You put him in jail for something he didn't do.

“I told you countless times, I can protect you—I will protect you. Don’t you trust me enough?” he continued.

You pinned his hands behind his back.

“Charles, it’s not about you protecting me… because I know you will. It’s about—”

“It’s about what?” he stared at you, his eyes glistening with tears he was trying hard to keep from falling.

Thought you had reason to attack, but no.

You looked at him with tears, lips quivering as you prepared to say the words.

“It’s about what, Y/N?” Charles held your face with his hands, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “It’s about what?” his voice was shaking. “Tell me, chérie… please?”

Fighting with a true love was like boxing with no gloves. 

“It’s about me protecting you, Charles,” you whimpered. “Maybe the things that they’re saying are true—maybe you need to run away from me before I leave you. Maybe I-I’m not truly what you need…”

You covered his hands with yours. “Charles… maybe we should just—”

Chemistry 'til it blew up, 'til there's no you and him anymore.

“No,” he answered.

“Charles, I think—”

“I know what you’re thinking. And no—that’s my final answer.”

He let go of you and started to pace the room.

“Charles—”

“We’ve made it this far… and you’re just going to give up now?” he stared at you, looking at your eyes for some sort of indication that everything was just a joke. All of his defenses broke and he didn’t even care if his tears started to fall.

Why'd you have to break what you loved so much?

“I hurt everyone I get close to. Charles, I’m just trying to protect you. Please–” 

“I don’t need your fucking protection! You! I need you!” he screamed in frustration.

And then he did something you didn’t expect.

He kneeled in front of you, holding your hands as he begged you not to leave him.

“Mon amour, just fight for us. Please, that’s only what I ask.”

“Oh, Charles… I really don’t deserve you.”

“Please, just stay with me… I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t leave me, mon amour, just s-stay, please.”

“Charles, p-please don’t cry, I-I can’t see you cry—stand up, please,” you cried.

It was on his face, the clear image of pain, and you were the one to blame. At that moment, you thought of every possible way this argument would end. You were already hurting him right now, what more would you do if you stayed? How much pain would you cause?

Charles stood up and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “Do you think it doesn’t hurt me?” he paused, turning your face so that your eyes were looking at his. “When they say all that shit about you? When they drag your name through the mud? When they feast over you on the internet? Do you think it doesn’t hurt me?” 

You didn’t know what to say.

“It hurts me too,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “But I can’t control what they say. If I could, I would’ve done it way too long ago.”

“Charles…”

“This is the way the world works, Y/N. You have to realize that people say what they want to say and people do what they want to do. Everything is done with a choice.” 

He finally opened his eyes, pulling away from you and wiping his tears. He stayed standing in front of you, but he now maintained a distance.

“Y/N…”

You couldn’t deny the pang of pain you felt when he called you by your name instead of the pet names he loved to call you.

“I can’t fight for a relationship when the other one’s already giving up,” he said. 

“You deserve someone way better than me,” you cried. “Look what I’m doing, I’m already hurting you right now. I would just hurt you even more in the future.”

Instead of him getting sad, his face showed a different emotion. It was blank, it was as if the emotions that blew up moments ago exhausted him.

“If you decide to stay or not, just know that I love you.”

ONE WEEK LATER.

You fucking hated yourself.

What the fuck did you just do?

Why didn’t you stay that night and why did you have to break what you loved so much?

You tried living without his presence for a week and it was horrible. You convinced yourself that you would eventually get used to a life without the warmth of his body next to yours or the sweet messages he would send every day. It was getting hard to reassure yourself that this was the way it was meant to be—you, away from him—when the only name your heart was calling was his.

You were miserable. You were breathing but you felt like you were already dead because your life had been taken away from you.

And you only have yourself to blame.

The truth was, you were weak. Each time you experience a block in the road, you immediately turn away. And you were ashamed of yourself for that. You were scared of losing Charles so you pushed him away. You left him before he could realize he needed to leave you.

You were regretting every single thing you did.

You regretted how you lived like an island, how you punished him with silence, how you went off like sirens, but above all, you regretted how you walked away.

Now you found yourself in front of his home, shaking as you slowly raised your hand to knock on the door. You hoped he was inside.

You knocked on the door hoping it was not too late. The door opened slowly after a few minutes, and after a week of no interaction, you finally saw him.

He was in the same state as you, maybe even worse. It was evident on his face that he spent most of his time crying. His eyes which were full of life before became lifeless, and he gave you the most lethargic look.

You wanted to hurt yourself because you knew you did that to him.

“Can I come inside, please?” you pleaded.

He stepped aside from the door and walked straight to the couch, not even sparing you a single glance. You followed him, sitting beside him as silence consumed the two of you.

“Hey,” you couldn’t help but cry as you looked at him. He had his head in his hands and you knew he was stopping himself from crying. “I’m sorry,” you said. “You don’t have to talk, I just want you to listen.”

When he didn’t move, you took that as a sign to continue. Honestly, you didn’t know where to start but you just let your heart guide you on what words you needed him to hear. 

“It’s all me, Charles. I’m sorry,” you stated. “It’s all me, in my head—I burned us down. I know I said a lot of stupid things but it’s not what I meant. And I—” you wiped a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.” 

He stayed still, hands still covering his face. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew you were in no position to tell him what to do when you were the reason he was this way. And so, you just continued to speak, hoping that deep inside his heart, he would find it in himself to forgive you.

“At that moment, I felt like the walls were closing in on me and the world was spinning out of control. I let my emotions take over and lashed out in ways that were unreasonable and unfair. I see now that I projected my own fears onto you, and I regret it. I regret everything I said that day. I let my assumptions take control and I assumed the worst without giving you the benefit of the doubt. I realize now that I sabotaged something beautiful, something we had worked so hard to build together.

“I didn’t want to do this to you. I want you to know that I take full responsibility for my overreaction. I'm aware of the impact it had on you, and I understand that you are hurt and feeling distant. But please, Charles, give me a chance to make it right. Give me a chance to show you that I’m capable of growth and that I’m learning from my mistakes.

“I can't promise that I won't make mistakes in the future, but I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to communicate openly and honestly and I will seek to understand your perspective before jumping to conclusions.

“I don’t want to lose you, Charles. I know trust takes time to rebuild, and I’m willing to put in the effort. You’re right, you’re always right— our love is worth fighting for. Please forgive me for being too weak, for walking away instead of staying. I misplaced my hurt and anger and I hurt you. I love you, Charles, please, at least look at me?” you pleaded.

And he did. He finally looked up. His eyes were red from crying as he held your hands in his. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear from you. For you to say that you’re willing to fight for us. I needed you to realize that for us to work, we have to meet each other halfway.”

“I know, and again, I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“Thank you,” he cried, cupping your cheek with his hand.

“For what?” you asked him.

“For coming back.”

You smiled at each other, leaning in for a kiss when you both got distracted by the light that suddenly shined through his large window.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue across the sky, you both stood side by side at the window. The afterglow of the sun painted the room in warm tones, filling the space with a sense of something you haven’t felt for a long time… peace.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his. You watched in awe as the last rays of sunlight danced across the clouds, creating breathtaking shades of colors. For a moment, you swore the sky was pink.

"It's like nature's painting," you whispered, voice filled with wonder.

Charles nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the ever-changing canvas before the two of you. "Yeah, it's beautiful," he replied softly.

The two of you simply stood there, lost in the beauty of the moment. Time seemed to stand still as you basked in the quiet serenity of the evening. As the sky darkened and the stars began to twinkle overhead, you both reluctantly tore your gazes away from the window. But the memory of the afterglow of the sun lingered in your hearts, a reminder of the beauty that surrounded you each day.

For the longest time, you let hate consume you. It was like this dark cloud hanging over your head. You were so focused on what they all had to say that you forgot to appreciate what was right in front of you.

But then, something shifted. Maybe it was a moment of clarity or a whisper of wisdom from somewhere deep within. Or maybe it was him, Charles, that made you realize that conforming to hate wasn't getting you anywhere. It wasn’t making you happy, it wasn't bringing you peace. All it was doing was tearing you apart, piece by piece.

And in that moment of realization, everything changed. You finally made a choice—a choice to let go of the hate and embrace love instead. You knew it wasn't going to be easy, and it wasn’t something that happens overnight, but you were determined to commit.

You were beginning to see the beauty in the world around you. The fact that it could be the laughter of real friends, the warmth of the sun on your skin, or the gentle touch of a loved one's hand—you realized that true love was everywhere, if only you were willing to open your eyes and see it.

So now, you were choosing love by choosing him. You chose to appreciate the little moments of joy, the simple pleasures of life. You chose to let go of anger and resentment, and instead, filled your heart with kindness and compassion.

You would soon forgive your family.

Because in the end, love is all that really mattered. It was what connected us, what bound us together as human beings. And when we embrace it, when we let it guide us, we would find out that life is so much sweeter, and so much more meaningful.

So here's to love—in all its forms, in all its beauty.

And here’s to Charles, your lover.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx @c-losur3

FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry @fangirl125reader @tall-tanned-tattoo @aundercover @stevesworld96 @princessria127

[cer-rata]

I did it, I finished the fic.

Cover by the amazing @nicodrawings

It's 109k and fully complete, welcome to my oc's first cursed, sappy adventure.

"Heart of Gotham"

Fandom: Detective Comics

Rating: T M

Summary:

Conrad Bishop thinks he knows who he is: A nerd, a goof, a coward. But heartbreak comes along to destroy that version of him. As he shatters, an alien ring decides that the depth of his pain has the potential to forge him into a potent Star Sapphire. While grief may be a devastatingly powerful form of love, can he survive on it alone? Maybe not. But it’s what he thinks deserves.

Everyone thinks they know who Damian Wayne is: A prince, a pariah, a hero. The truth is worse. No one thinks he’s easy to love, and he agrees. It’s fine. He doesn’t need it, he’s got duty and a body to spend in service of it until there’s nothing left to hate. But sometimes? Sometimes he wonders if that’s all he can be.

By chance they share the same science class, and--for better or worse--that's all it takes to send them on a path that neither of them would have ever dared to consider.

Love conquers all.

...Maybe

Excerpt:

Damian started changing out of his uniform and Conrad awkwardly looked away. He cleared his throat. “Hey, so, I’ve been thinking…”

“Hmm?” Damian grunted as he unclasped and slid his tunic off.

“Well, you used the ring to save me, right? But you know...the whole bit is that if you want to heal someone you have to…uh. You'd…you'd have to love--"

“Philia.” Damian cut in quickly.

“Did…did you--was that a slur?”

“…No! Philia is the Greek concept of love between friends. That’s what the ring was pulling from.” It was mostly true. It was mostly philia. Mostly.

Conrad considered that for a moment, then beamed. “Oh. Oh! So you admit it? You think we’re friends?”

Damian finished pulling a hoodie on and turned to squint at him. “How are you this stupid.”

“Oh my god you do!”

“If you’re like this for the entire ride back, there is a high likelihood that I will change my--oh come on!” Damian complained fruitlessly as he had to endure yet another hug. “I should have let you bleed out.” He hissed, and Conrad just laughed.

“I love you too, buddy.”

A tip of the hat:

Before I get into anything else, again the cover and reference sheet were done by the amazing @nicodrawings. She's terrific, professional, easy to work with (and I am ANNOYING), and I think the quality speaks for itself. Her art is tremendous and her covers are maybe the highest quality I've seen from an indie artist.

And those colors.

Her commissions are open right now and she's making a fan comic that looks so cool, and she does all this other cool stuff. Check her out, okay?

Concepts, Themes, and Character Focus

The core questions I wanted to ask were:

"Can two broken people ever be good for each other?"

"Can you actually move past the pain of loss?"

"How do you love someone?"

I love Lantern lore, and Star Sapphires specifically. Maybe too much

I was fascinated by a Corps that represented love but was usually fueled by despair and anguish instead, and wielded one of the harder to control colors of the Emotional Spectrum. So I decided to create one from scratch and place them in Earth's most notorious tragedy factory: Gotham City.

Conrad is shamelessly emotional and ruled by his affections, and was like that even before the ring. The only son of a pair of Haitian immigrants, Conrad grew up feeling very loved, and even his parents terrible handling of his attempt to come out wasn't enough to shake that. But his parents never really pushed him, and his easy-going nature meant he didn't develop a lot of self determination. Then he suffers an incredibly traumatizing loss, and suddenly his carefully laid carpet of normalcy and avoidance is torn up to reveal some structural problems underneath.

Damian is emotional and ruled by his affections, and is a little ashamed of it. He also felt loved when he was growing up, but unlike Conrad, much of the love he received was in the form of praise for his success, which had the unfortunate effect of making him seek approval in ways that were often unhelpful, most often to himself. He's tried so hard, and done so much work to be a better person, and he's even accumulated a group of peers who adore him. But he's still lonely, has trouble accepting his own progress, and the guilt he carries making new connections difficult.

Everyone is a couple of years older than they are in canon, which I did to make the content more appropriate, and also so I could play with the ambiguity of those three undocumented years, and hand wave away some of the more...uncharitable parts of canon without having to rewrite everything. This is Damian still on his early Rebirth character track, before the many resets to his character development. He's still harsh and somewhat antisocial, but he's also older, more mellow, and has worked through a couple of things. He's settled enough to allow for some honest introspection.

I didn't initially plan for this to be a love story, but their internal conflicts were complimentary and their deepest wishes slotted together so neatly that the direction felt natural. They cover many of each other's weaknesses and blind spots, while making some of their other hangups worse.

The romance isn't even the critical part really, it's just the way they end up expressing emotional intimacy. They are friends first, and that's what holds everything together. It's all about them showing up for each other in ways that are sometimes difficult, and the fact that they always will, regardless of whether they're in a relationship or not.

It's an awkward, intense, teen relationship, and it's not always a good thing for either of them--even before factoring in cosmic super weapons and secret identities.

Also, there are... a lot of cameos and odd side characters.

[celtigxr]

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. ix: Protector

Chapter Summary: Riddled with regret, Aemond searches for Valeana after what had happened in the library.

Word Count: 3843

Sneak Peak: “Nonsense,” He shook his head and extended his hand, “Take my hand, and you’ll be fine.” “But what if I fall–” “You won't,” He gave her a reassuring smile, and flexed his fingers to encourage her to take his hand. “I won’t let you fall, ever.” 

Warnings: Active anxiety attack due to ptsd.

T H E  G R E E N S 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Aegon never held a strong friendship with his sister, Helaena. They had nothing in common and having a conversation with her felt like navigating a labyrinth. A labyrinth full of riddles that he needed to solve in order to pass through doorways. His love for Helaena only ever extended as much as a brother’s love for his sister could in normal families. He was equally as protective of her as he was annoyed by her. 

He would get annoyed at her hyperfixation of insects and other vermin. He would get annoyed when she moved at her own pace, or flat out didn’t listen when being commanded to do something by him or literally anyone else. He’d get annoyed when she didn’t look at him when he talked to her, or derailed the conversation to talk about something unimportant. Most of all it annoyed him how much his mother ran to her and coddled her whenever Helaena was slightly uncomfortable. However, when Helaena was uncomfortable, even by small things by the standards of everyone else, it was like the world was ending. 

That was when Aegon’s protectiveness would come through. Helaena’s fits would be explosive, sometimes destructive. It had gotten better as she got older, but that only meant that if something was happening, it was much worse than rearranged furniture, or a stain on her sleeve that she was convinced was an omen of death. From the day they were betrothed, Aegon was forced to spend more time with her (to establish some sort of romantic bond with her. Really, his mother asked for the impossible), and over time he recognized the warning signs and learned through trial and error how to calm her down. These fits had started to become fewer over the years, and eventually the possibility of them being married dwindled with his father’s growing health and dislike of the match. Despite all that time wasted, Aegon was still the first to be summoned to calm his sister when she needed it. 

That night, Aegon returned from Flea Bottom from a failed quest to find a new platinum blonde to conquer in his usual preferred whore houses. He was drunk, blue balled, and a bit frustrated when they only offered brunettes that he’s had dozens of times. By the time he reached Maegor’s Holdfast, he was tired beyond belief. He silently cursed his ancestors for making the castle incredibly inconvenient to navigate, particularly for drunkards such as himself. 

Aegon rounded the corner, just in time to see her stumbling and groaning in pain, hands grasping at her leg. He quickly sobered and went over to her, hands reaching out to grasp her shoulders. Her eyes were glazed over by thick tears and a fog that reminded him of his sister. 

Something happened, something terrible had happened. But a quick glance of her form showed him no physical wounds. She wasn’t bleeding, but her leg seemed to pain her a great deal. Valeana was a disheveled, and the thought that someone raped her had immediately crossed his mind. 

“I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!”

Aemond? Would his brother actually be capable of such a thing?

Fear and doubt flushed out the alcohol from his veins. He wouldn’t get straight answers from her, not when she is in this mind set. Brushing her tears from her face, Aegon concluded that a distressed Valeana Celtigar was almost as bad as a distressed Helaena. Perhaps it was divine intervention that he happened upon her in this state before anyone else. 

The apartments he shared with his siblings weren’t that far from there, so he guided her to his quarters. When the guards posted at the doors looked at him curiously, veiled with concern and assumptions on their minds, Aegon gave them a pointed look.

“It is not what it looks like. Something’s happened, but I do not want you to alert a Maester until I figure out what it is. Swear to me your silence?”

The knights bowed their heads, then replied in unison, “I swear it, my Prince.” 

With a stiff nod, Aegon helped Valeana enter the apartments and into his private solar. He would not be able to keep her there until dawn, he knew. If people saw her exiting in the morning, the gossip would be like wildfire and before he could even blink, they would be at the altar in front of a Septon, swearing their vows and exchanging cloaks. First, he needed to get her to calm down, then he would summon his sister.

They entered his bedchamber, and he nudged the door closed with his foot to give them privacy. Then, Aegon helped her onto the edge of his bed after he pried her arms from his neck. Her entire body was shaking; her trembling fingers grasped at her leg, as she gasped in pain. 

“Let me see,” he bent down, but when he tried to lift her robe and nightgown, she panicked and shrieked. Immediately Aegon lifted his hands and stepped back. 

Valeana folded into her body, her forehead nearly touching her knee, and both of her hands grasped at her calf as long groans emitted from deep in her chest. She was starting to gasp for breath, allerting Aegon immediately. Bending down to a knee, he grabbed her hands, forcing his fingers under her grip. 

“Valeana, look at me,” He craned his neck down to her knees to try to catch her eyes, “I need you to breathe.” With his free hand, he cupped her cheek and gently forced her to look up so he could anchor her stare to his. Her pupils were completely dilated, like how Helaena’s got when she had lost her grip on reality. Aegon’s grip on her cheek was firm as she tried to pull away from it. 

“Eh-eh, it’s just me, Egg. Just silly ol’ Aegon, remember? Darling, I need you to breathe, like this—” He took a deep inhale through his nose and exhaled through his lips. 

She blinked at him, which allowed a rogue tear fall over the apple of her cheek down to her dry lips. With shaky shoulders and a constricted throat, Valeana took in an uneven breath. When she exhaled it came out stuttering through pouted lips. 

“That’s it, that’s it, now again,” He inhaled the same time as she did, and then exhaled.

They stayed like that, breathing in and out for a few minutes until her body stopped shivering and her shoulders relaxed. Every few moments she would moan or groan from a wound that the prince still could not identify. Through the pain, he would gently encourage her with a soft, “That’s it, Val, keep going.” Eventually, Aegon felt his efforts working when the full weight of her head dropped in his hands, and the muscles in her limbs loosened.

He grinned, tapping his fingers gingerly on her cheeks, “There you go, Crab Cake. You know this isn’t what I had in mind when I imagined you in my bed. The breathing hard part, yes–” 

“Shut up, Egg,” her eyes fluttered closed, chest heaving heavily as she continued to level her breathing. 

He gave a soft laugh, “There’s my girl.” 

Valeana’s eyes gently opened, her mind still in a fog, but if she had to relate it to anything now, it was more like a dense humidity. The kind of humidity that makes every part of you exhausted. Her tongue ran over her dry bottom lip, “I’m sorry. It must be so late.” 

Aegon gave a shrug, “I should be thanking you. I’ve never felt more sober.” 

From a mixture of exhaustion and delirium, a chuckle shook her shoulders. She brought her hands to her face in an attempt to control her giggles. Aegon, still on his knees before her, remained silent, a small, kind smile upon his face as he watched her. He decided he quite liked her like that – laughing, that is. But then he was reminded of the distress she was in only ten minutes ago, and that smile fell. 

“Valeana,” his hand crept onto her right knee, palm facing up in an invitation for her to hold his hand. “What happened?” 

She stopped laughing to take in a sharp inhale, the butt of her palms reached up to press firmly in her eyes. When she finally pulled away, she blinked rapidly and looked down at his hand on her knee. Surprising herself, she dropped hers onto her thigh and allowed the tips of her fingers to curl around Aegon’s.

“He pushed me,” the words came out painfully. Her brows furrowed and her lips pursed, “In the library. I just-I just touched his arm and—” a stuttered sigh released through her lips. “It just felt–it just… everything all over again. I thought– fuck, I’m sorry, I cant–” Her hands were back on her face, fingers digging into her skin before combing through her hairline. 

“No, no, shh, it is fine,” Aegon took her wrists and pulled them away from her face. “It’s fine…. Are you hurt? Do you need a Maester? What about your leg…” He looked down at the one she was holding earlier. 

She shook her head vigorously, “No, no, please… don’t call the Maester. I don’t want my dad to know. He’ll make it worse, please, just… I’m just so tired.” 

“Are you sure? You looked like you were in a lot of pain.”

Valeana shook her head again, a little softer this time, “I’m fine, really – it does that sometimes… It feels like something is there, but there isn't.”

“What do you mean?”

There was a clear hesitation. Her eyes didn’t meet his curious gaze, but eventually her hands moved down to the length of her robe as she pulled up the fabric and then her nightgown underneath. Aegon watched intently in slow anticipation, until he realized what he was looking at. There was polished oak wood where her calf and foot should have been and a sophisticated and complex ball joint for an ankle. His eyes roamed higher, where he could see the wood cutting off at the knee, before continuing around her thigh where it was secured by various straps and buckles. 

This was beyond surprising for multiple reasons. He had no idea that she had lost her leg – he had clear memories of the Maesters at the time righting it properly, and putting her in a split. Clearly, it wasn’t enough. He didn’t know anything about infections or anatomy, but there had to be a reason for it to be amputated. The other surprising reason was that he had not seen this the other day when he was hiding under her dress. Then again, she was wearing very tall, thick red stockings. Now that he thought about it longer, he did see a strap around her thigh, but he had assumed it was a garter that was holding up her stocking.

Valeana put her skirts back down and wrapped her arms around her legs, “Sometimes I feel things there… But there is nothing, because there is nothing. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Aegon nodded stiffly, eyes still on her left leg, now hidden under the curtains of her robe. Finally he pulled his gaze away and returned it to her, “I’m going to get Helaena.” 

T H E  P A S T

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“We’re lost, Aemond!”

“We’re not lost, we’re just…” Aemond stopped walking as he craned his neck up to look at the leafy ceiling of the Godswood. “A little off track.” 

A simple picnic in the woods had gone amiss when Aemond insisted on going deeper into the thicket, away from the judging eyes of his brother and nephews. They were aware of his friendship with Valeana, but not the extent of how close they were. And while Aemond did not want to give up his companion, he did not want to give his brother more arrows for his quiver. 

Aemond also simply wanted a peaceful moment between him and his friend… quite frankly, his only friend if he thought too closely on it. No interruptions, no curious or amused stares by the kingsguard or other adults. Typically they remained around the fringes of the forest, near the Heart Tree, since Valeana wasn’t good with steep hills and long treks. But, he had a plan; there was a clearing near the bubbling brook that would only take them twenty minutes to get to. There was a large weeping mulberry tree that he wanted her to see. Valeana loved the berries, but he also thought a picnic underneath its protective canopy would be the perfect setting for… 

And he blushed at the thought. 

His first kiss…

Unfortunately, it did not go as planned, and he had no one else but himself to blame. Valeana sat on a rock, breathing heavy, face flushed and hair slightly wet from the sweat building up on her brow and upper lip. He could tell she was self conscious about it, the way she kept on dabbing a handkerchief on her face and looking away from him. Valeana was always hot, always sweating. He remembered she used to wear lighter colours, but her stepsister would scold her for having sweat stains under her pits. Then, Valeana started to wear darker colours, which did not help with the glare of the sun. 

Still, he always found her flushed appearance enduring. She looked like a porcelain doll with a red button nose, and peridot gems for eyes. 

They conversed, like they usually did. All the while Aemond tried to inch his way closer to her, but always found something in the way. A twig holding his tunic, or a rock prodding his backside. Val was blissfully unaware, too busy gazing up at the natural umbrella of the mulberry tree and the light that peaked through. 

Once he managed to worm his way to her side as subtly as possible, he found himself fidgeting with his hands nervously, barely listening to a thing she was saying. Something about how a specific berry looked like a mole on Floris’ back. Aemond turned to her just as she was munching on a particularly large one, with her tongue flicking out and licking up the juices that stained her lips. Subconsciously he mimicked the movement. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked when she noticed him zoning out. 

He chickened out. Once he realized he was staring, Aemond flushed and moved away from her.  

Now they were lost in the Godswood, and they were losing daylight. The bright blue sky was now becoming duller and grey as the clouds gathered for a possible light rain for the evening. 

“A little off track?” She repeated his words as she looked down at a steep hill they were expected to climb down. Valeana turned to him, face wholly unamused, “Aemond, my prince, my friend. We are practically in the Vale.”

Aemond couldn’t help but laugh, at both the overstatement and the look on her face. “We are still in the Red Keep, Val. We can walk in any direction, and eventually we will find a castle wall.” 

“And what will we do when we find the wall, Aem? Grow wings and fly over it? Will you launch me over it like a scorpion or katapult?” 

It was difficult to wipe the smile from his face, but he managed to suppress the chuckle. Instead, he started to scale down the hill, then waved for her to follow, “C’mon, if we go down here, it will save us time…” 

When he didn’t feel her presence next to him, he turned sharply to see her looking down the hill with a visible frown and worry in her eyes. 

“Aemond, that’s too steep, I’ll … I’ll go around. I’ll meet you there.”

“Nonsense,” He shook his head and extended his hand, “Take my hand, and you’ll be fine.”

“But what if I fall–”

“You won't,” He gave her a reassuring smile, and flexed his fingers to encourage her to take his hand. “I won’t let you fall, ever.” 

She looked at him skeptically, “Well, you can’t say ever–”

“Valeana!” 

With a huff, she took his hand, “Fine.” 

It took time, but the two managed to scale the steep hill with only a few close calls. When they made it to the bottom, Valeana heaved a long sigh of exhaustion and victory. 

“See? It was not so bad,” Aemond watched in mild amusement as she bent, hand on her knee – the other still in his – as she tried to catch her breath. 

She sent him a withering glare, “Oh, yes, string bean. Piece of pigeon pie.” Valeana straightened up, brushing the wrinkles of her dress – of all the good that’ll do – and looked about where they ended up. She could vaguely see the white spidery branches of the Heart Tree and its blood red leaves in the distance. 

“We’re almost there,” he confirmed her speculation, but there is still a great distance, even if they could see their destination from there.

“Uh huh,” her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Now we just need to survive an impending storm, and wolves and bears and hellhounds–”

“Hellhounds?” He snorted, “What do you think we keep in here, Valeana?”

“My imagination is wild,” She replied with a sigh. They started to walk onward, towards the direction of the weirwood tree. “It is especially vivid when I’m afraid.”

Aemond still had her hand in his. With her confession, he gave it a little squeeze, “I’ll protect you, Val. From whatever beasts that lurk around us.”

She raised her eyebrows at him, “And what of the beasts that lurk in my mind? Would you protect me from those as well, Aemond?”

His grip on her hand tightened, “Even those. Especially those.”

T H E  G R E E N S 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Another regrettable, regrettable mistake. 

But Aemond doesn’t make mistakes. Not anymore. And yet there he was, staring at his hand like it was a foreign appendage; like it had moved on its own accord. 

When he entered the library, he was tightly wound up after the bath. It had the complete opposite desired effect, and he blamed his cock for that. He was no better than Aegon in that regard, allowing depraved fantasies to weaken his will of mind. He wagered the celibate Cole didn’t have any words of wisdom for him to keep his loins protected from his own sinful thoughts, did he? 

Aemond convinced himself that in the throes of lust, his mind simply grasped at the first faces that came to mind. Much like the dreams of his own mother and step sister he used to have – those, he was sure, meant absolutely nothing. And what happened in the bath was exactly the same. It meant nothing.

Aside from the comfort of his own bedchamber, or on the back of Vhagar amidst clouds and sky, the library was his place of peace. In the dead of night, no one was there, not even the overseeing Maester. However, when he entered and saw that his sanctuary had already been breached by none other than the object of his ire, Aemond bristled like an overstimulated cat.

He didn’t realize how tightly strung up he was until it became hindsight. 

The heat of her hand, even through the fabric of his tunic, felt like hot iron. His body reacted impulsively, instinctually, and out of survival, like she was an enemy approaching from behind. Aemond immediately realized his mistake when his hands felt soft skin, familiar to him like a forgotten memory. 

He froze, embarrassingly. Standing, staring at his hand as if it was not his, and before he finally registered what he had done, it was too late. 

“Valeana–”

Aemond barely saw her in his panicked tunnelled vision. He saw the flurry of her robes and nightgown fall over her knees as she got to her feet, and a glimpse of the furrow on her brow just before she turned away and fled the library. He found himself taking strides toward her, but he stopped midway. 

This is for the best, a voice of reason told him. It sounded a lot like Ser Criston. Was this his mind protecting his heart? If it was, then why did it feel like he had stabbed it himself? 

He turned back to the book of his ancestors propped on the pedestal, and then back to the door. Remaining here would be easy, and probably the smartest thing he could do. But then came a second voice, more nagging the first, and it came to him in the form of his mother. 

She is a lady in distress, Aemond. It is not safe.

He shut his eye and sighed heavily through his flared nose. If Alicent learned of what he had done, and then allowed Valeana to run out of the Library during the hour of the owl, she would whip him herself. 

In the end, and as always, his mother won his eternal struggles. With stiff strides, he left the comfort of the library and stepped into the corridor, only to find it void of life. Looking left and right, and then ahead of him, he could hear nor see a living soul. Hedging his bets, he decided to walk ahead, and after a few strides he saw something on the ground: a woman’s red slipper. 

Aemond bent to snatch it up and examine it. He didn’t get a good look at her feet when she had pushed herself off the ground, but he doubted many women would leave their footwear behind unless they were running away. At least he knew now that he was on the right track. 

His steps became a little faster, though as he continued on for another minute or two, he realized he was getting closer to the apartments. When he reached the grand door that led to the wing he shared with his siblings, he paused to face the two knights guarding it. 

“Have you seen the Celtigar girl in these halls?”

The two men exchanged a look, one Aemond immediately caught with suspicion. He gritted his jaw and took a step towards them, “Where is she?”

The knight bit his bottom lip before speaking, “We were told–”

Aemond pushed passed through them into the doors. The vestibule between each private quarters was grand, giving room for a dining table, and a lounge in the balcony that faced the small courtyard. Aegon’s quarters were on the far left, to which he confidently strode to, sweeping through his solar until he got to his brother’s bedchamber door. That is when he stopped himself. 

He could hear heavy breathing through the wood, coupled by soft moaning and groaning. Then he heard his damnable brother’s voice: 

“That’s it, Val, keep going.”

That was it.

That was when winter claimed Aemond’s heart, and turned his blood into rivers of ice.

Note: I know you're wondering.... "Celt... this looks like an Aegon x ofc in disguise." I promise you it isn't. I am a slow burn novella writer. SIT TIGHT, BESTIES, IT'S GONNA BE A BUMPY RIDE.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[slotumn]

Some notes on how I personally like to write the lords + Rhea+ Shezleth wrt sacrifices and deaths and moral dilemmas they face when they make decisions

Basically,

Edelgard: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to bring change and ensure more don’t die in the future under an unjust system

Rhea: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to maintain stability and ensure more don’t die in the future under chaos and turmoil

Dimitri: People have died because of me and my decisions, I know it’s unforgivable no matter what and I will atone for it by avenging them (feral mode)/saving as much as or more than I have killed (post-feral clarity)

Claude: People have died because of me and my decisions, but that was the best I could do in my situation, and as long as I/we stay alive thanks to that I/we still have a chance to turn things around for the better

Byleth: People dying is people dying and nobody knows if any of your decisions will be “justified” until it plays out. I’ll help you get the results that will hopefully “justify” your decisions because I love and support you, but honestly, all that shit you're saying is just cope

Shez: Cool cool, where’s my fucking money

As you can tell the main foils/contrasts I like are Rhea <–> Edelgard, Dimitri <–> Claude, and Shez+Byleth. More rambling about it under the cut

For Rhea and Edelgard, I like to focus on them being similar people at different points of life/the project they’ve dedicated their lives to. I’m sure people have already made the analysis about parallels between them, from losing their families/conquering the continent/etc etc but basically, they have very similar philosophies/attitudes/outlooks, and the difference is whether the current system and dominant ideology is what they like or not.

I think that a young Seiros, fleeing a genocide and recruiting allies in the south, would have had faced similar objections Edelgard did; Nemesis may not be the most benevolent ruler, yes, and we don’t literally believe everything his regime preaches, but at least things are manageable and stable if we play along, especially down here in the south. Do we really need to risk everything we have to go up and fight him? Your ideas hold appeal, but some of us don’t find it appealing enough to die for it.

And similarly, I think Edelgard, if she grew old enough to see her system really take root in society, would say a lot of the same things that Rhea would've liked to say, when younger generations complain; look, what we have isn’t perfect, but you really don’t want to see what it was like before, and the fact you can have these complaints at all are a testament to the system I’ve made working. And if you try to burn all this down out of youthful passion, it’s more likely that we will regress instead of progress.

For Dimitri and Claude, it’s about how they deal with guilt; on a personal level, specifically. Politically I think they’d take or dodge responsibility as is necessary lol

Dimitri is straightforward, almost too straightforward. Not great at coming up with excuses, or rather, excusing himself. His way of facing the guilt is very one on one; taking blood for blood, while he's feral. Saving life for life taken, post-feral clarity. And even then, deep down he feels like ("knows") it's will never be enough. And he takes on all that guilt head on even in places where it's not his fault, a.k.a. survivor's guilt.

Claude, meanwhile, dude is a mental gymnastic gold medalist (affectionate). It's not that he doesn't feel guilt, but I think he's very good at seemingly minimizing it, excusing it, and convincing himself that he's better off focusing on other things. As for survivor's guilt, I'm not saying Claude wouldn't ever feel it, but he'd focus on the fact he survived, rather than the guilt.

Finally, Byleth and Shez. Honestly I think they have pretty similar outlooks, it's just a matter of how they explain it lol. The role I like to give these two is reality checkers; because the lords and Rhea can have their debates about Ideology™ and The System™ and Morality™ and Responsibility™ of it all they'd like, but in the end, it's people like Shez and Byleth doing the dirty work and dying on the field for the decisions.

And when people die, the physical, material reality is that they're fucking dead. Attach causes and justifications and obligations and excuses to their corpses as you want, but at the end of the day, it is a corpse and the person is dead. That's the reality they've always lived in, and not just as a one-off incident, either; the thing they do for survival is fighting and killing. They have a "It Is What It Is" type of attitude as a baseline, because, well... it is. Doesn't mean they don't feel things about it. Doesn't mean they don't want to save people where they can. Nonetheless— they know all too well that what happens is what happens.

For this reason, I like to think that grand moralistic judgements are not their thing, no matter the route; they don't even think the lord they sided with is fundamentally more correct/better. Like, come on, when they were asked to choose a house upon arriving at Garreg Mach, they probably weren't weighing their options based on who'd be the most "objectively" "morally" correct if a war broke out between the three (+the Church).

That being said, I think they definitely have a sense of what's good. But it's not the philosophical/abstract type of good you might hear the other four get into debates about. Shez and Byleth's idea of good is, in many ways, very small and inconsequential— but grander concepts of morality can't exist without it. And I like to think that the reason why Shez and Byleth become so important to the side they picked isn't just because of their powers, but also because the constantly they remind others of those small good things.

"Good" to Shez and Byleth is having enough to eat; having warm clothes and bed to sleep in and a roof over their heads; spending time with the people they care about and seeing them safe. It's quite animalistic, in a way; interesting, considering that Agarthans belittle their enemies by calling them beasts.

But I don't think those two would be particularly affected by being called animals for that reason. "These beasts are happy— what about you?"