#i love dragon age SO MUCH i desperately wish it was good

[boltlightning]

baldur's gate 3 is like. everything i wished dragon age would be, except with worse lore, but with infinitely better everything else. two characters i accidentally got on a romance path with were extremely cool and mature about my picking one over the other and we're moving on in a very natural and cool way. in dragon age that would've been a cataclysmic event of game-restarting proportions that would've otherwise ended with one or both of those party members dead. my god my standards are low

[nebulaafterdark]

Dragonseeds (Pt. 2)

Summary: If any man can claim a dragon, what good is the blood of Old Valyria?

Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon(Cole)!Reader

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut

Part 1

On the day Y/N Velaryon was born, King Viserys hosted a grand feast in her honor. On her twenty fifth name day, Rhaenyra sends similar gifts to King’s Landing, to feed the smallfolk. News which is ill received by her mother by law, Alicent.

“The King and Queen are missing, rest assured we are doing all we can to locate them, your Grace. Still someone must rule in their stead.” Ser Criston suggests, “a regent to guide us through their safe return.”

“A wise thought.” Alicent nods, “might I suggest myself?”

The members of the small council can hardly answer the dismissal of Rhaenyra’s claim by raising up a woman of their own.

The councilmen are inclined to believe they must first search of evidence of foul play. Though Ser Otto is not convinced. Pulling his daughter aside to scold her.

“These are the very same children who made themselves easy on the morning of her brother’s petition as heir of Driftmark. They are insolent and foolish but they do hold one thing dear and that is the other, and their children. They cannot see beyond their own desires.”

“You wished for Aegon to be king.” Alicent murmurs, “I’ve made him king.”

“I take full responsibility for my part in this, daughter.” Otto sighs, “knowing what I do now, it should have been Aemond upon the throne. He is closer in age to Rhaenyra’s daughter, he would not have been so pliable beneath her unyielding hands.”

“You could not have known for certain.”

“Everyone knew.” Otto admits. “To have Y/N is to have Aegon. He bends the knee to her and her whims because he…” loves her.

“Aemond might’ve fallen prey to her charms all the same. Y/N is not cold, calculated or cunning. She is only a girl, desperate to win her mother’s affection by any means necessary.” Alicent knows the role well.

“I want my mother.” Y/N pleaded with her midwives during her first labors.

Alicent developed a quiet fondness for her daughter by law in those days, more than she cares to admit.

————————————————————————

Princess Y/N and Prince Aegon are made comfortable upon their arrival, accepted with open arms by their Queen and left to their own devices.

Y/N and Aegon know little entertainment besides court…and the familiar comfort of the other. Without meetings to attend and their children still abed, they have no choice but to indulge.

Aegon finds his face between her thighs, drawn in like a moth to flame. Gods, how he loves her. Spelling it out over her pearl time and time again.

“Fuck,” Y/N cries, rolling her hips up to meet him.

Aegon’s hands encircle them, wide and full to bear his children. She finds her peak against his tongue, thighs clenched taut around his head.

They scarcely notice the door of their apartments creaking open until Rhaenyra is in their bed chamber. “Oh!” The woman shields her eyes.

“Mother,” Y/N gasps. Pulling the coverlet up to her chin.

“Forgive me. I thought you might be alone.” Aegon had been given his own chambers.

Aegon moves up toward the pillows, popping his head out from beneath the covers. “Did you need something?”

Rhaenyra huffs, “I need my daughter and heir, yes. We’ve much to discuss.”

“Of course, mother.” Y/N nods, “give me a moment to make myself decent and I will meet you in your rooms?”

Rhaenyra nods, before rushing out to the safety of the nearest corridor.

“That ought to keep her from barging in unannounced.” Aegon muses, brushing sweat damp hair from his wife’s face.

“You find it funny that my mother now knows of our…intimacies?” Y/N snaps.

Aegon chuckles, “I’m afraid she has known, darling girl.” He passes a hand over the swell of her belly. “Everyone knows, I fear.”

Y/N groans, burying her face in her hands.

“Do not despair, my dearest love.” Aegon murmurs, “you have laid your line of succession strong enough that no man may question it.”

Y/N nods, as his forehead rests against her temple.

“At all of five and twenty, you have provided the crown with nearly six heirs.” Aegon reminds her, “you have performed your duty. There is no shame in it.”

“When I was a girl, I thought we’d fly away on dragon back.” Y/N whispers, tracing the lines of his face with her finger.

Aegon smiles, “and where would we go?”

“Away on a ship somewhere, to live off the sea. We’d spend the rest of our days singing sea shanties, eating only cake…and fish, of course.”

Aegon chuckles, “of course.”

“We’d be free of all this.”

“We will never be free of this.” He understands better now, what it meant each time she took his body in her own to create life. The way they unknowingly sealed their fate with each kiss.

“Do you wish to be, husband?”

“I wish for your happiness and that of our children. The rest matters little and less.”

“You matter to me a great deal.”

————————————————————————-

“In your absence, Jacaerys and I have set down a difficult path…where it seems we now differ in opinion.” Rhaenyra informs her daughter. “As my successor, I must now raise the matter with you.”

“Of course.” Y/N nods.

“To stand against Vhagar, even with Sunfyre and Stormborn now amongst our ranks, we will need more dragon riders.”

“Our children are very young, their dragons still wet from the egg. It may be a decade or more before they take to wing.”

“You agree then, something else must be done about our numbers?” Rhaenyra asks.

Jace shakes his head, clenching his hands into fists.

“What do you propose?” Y/N wonders.

“There are many in our line who’ve…ventured outside their marriage bed. Those children have lived largely in the shadows, but they share the blood of the dragon.” Rhaenyra continues, choosing her words carefully.

“Surely there are those from our line who married into other noble houses-”

“We have lost Ser Stephen to such a venture. I fear the blood may be too thin.” Rhaenyra laments, toying with her rings.

“You disagree, Jacaerys?”

“When one of those baseborn, silver haired, dragon riders decide they want to rule the seven kingdoms, where does that leave you?” Jace turns to his sister. “They will leave you clinging to Aegon again, in hopes of becoming Queen. Even then they may question your claim.”

“I appreciate your concerns, you are ever vigilant.” Y/N takes his hand in hers, “I appreciate it more than you will ever know.”

“Of course.”

“I ask you now, brother, what other choice we have?”

“Together with Sunfyre, Vermax, Stormborn and Syrax do you not believe we stand a chance against Vhagar?”

“A chance, yes.” Y/N agrees, “but to put the people I hold most dear in danger for a chance? I can do no such thing in good conscience.”

“You are putting your claim in danger, perhaps your very life. Are you so blind you cannot see it?” Jace snaps.

“Better my claim be lost than any of you.” Y/N says, pointedly. “I want to be Queen. I have wanted it from the time I was a child and it was impressed upon me to want. Clinging to it like some prized possession. I married for it, birthed children for it. I was left behind in King’s Landing when I was no more than a child, to hold my place in our grandsire’s court while the rest of my family abandoned me for Dragonstone. I have given all that I am or ever hoped to be to hold this claim. Still I will choose any of you over a crown.”

“You should never have had to do that.” Jacaerys reminds her.

Rhaenyra runs a hand over her own face. “I did not mean for you to feel abandoned.”

“I know that, mother, and I do not fault you for it.” Y/N assures her, “you do what you must to protect-”

“Cole promised he would care for you, I should never have trusted him. I should have taken you with me, as I wanted. You wrote to me often enough that I forced myself to believe you were happy.”

“Cole did care for me, as best he could.” Y/N assures her, “I only meant…”

“You meant what you said.” Rhaenyra understands, “and rightfully so. I have made many mistakes in this life, most regrettably, with you. They have cost you more than even I understood, until now. Leaving you was the hardest thing I have had to do in all my years. I am sorry for it.”

“Mother, I do not fault you for decisions you made to protect me. You did the best you could.”

“I did not do enough, it seems.” Rhaenyra pats her cheek. “All the more reason I must do what I can for you now.”

“If you believe this is the way, then I will help you see it through.” Y/N decides, “tell me what I must do.”

“Nothing yet, the Lady Mysaria has already sent word to King’s Landing.”

————————————————————————-

When they are excused by the Queen, Jace makes haste towards his quarters.

“Jace,” Y/N calls. “Jacaerys!” She says a bit louder the second time to be sure he’s heard her.

“I wish for a moment alone.”

Y/N closes the distance between them. “I do not pretend to know what has happened here in my absence. But what I will tell you is that when Aegon and I first wed, he would not lie with me. After seeing Helaena birth her twins, he could hardly stomach it. He waited and waited.” Y/N confesses, “I too was frightened of the birthing bed.”

“You were a child.” Jace reminds her, “you’d every right to be.”

“When I turned ten and six Otto Hightower began discussing his fear that I might be barren, with Alicent. This was kept hush, but the whispers trickle down, they always do.” Y/N swallows. “In noble families requiring an heir, it is not uncommon to receive…assistance. They wanted to bring in one of the serving girls for Aegon, if I could not conceive. But before that though, I’d be expected to lie with another in our line.”

Jacaerys can only gawk at her. “And did you?”

“No,” Y/N assures him. “But had I not conceived, it would have been expected of me.”

“With whom?”

“Aemond is my husband’s closest blood.” Y/N averts her eyes, “they knew he could sire children.”

“Did mother know?” Jace demands.

“Everyone knew, Jacaerys.” Y/N huffs, “she was prepared to fight for me, as she always has. But I do not care to admit the number of times I’ve envied you…simply for being born a son. We cannot fault our mother for doing what she must, she is choosing between the lesser of two rotten choices.”

“I could not have done the things you have, I wish more than anything that you did not have to do them. But you are just, in your morals and your mercy. So if you believe this is the way, I stand proudly at your side.” Jace assures her. It never mattered to either of them that different men’s blood courses through their veins. Being the eldest, they are the only ones to ever know. Even sweet Lucerys had no inkling.

“Thank you, brother.”

Taglist: @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @kamcrazy123 @barnes70stark

[wandanatswitch]

Hour of the Owl

Pairing: Dowager!Queen Alicent Hightower x Targaryen!Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst w/ happy ending

Summary: “Love can become both a sanctuary and a peril”

Warnings: NSFW +18 minors DNI, age gap (reader is aprox 18, Alicent is aprox 37), step-cest?, mentions of targcest, fingering? (reader receiving) oral (reader receiving), semi-public sex, mentions of infidelity (not between the main characters), religious shame and guilt, mention of suicidal thoughts, emotional dependency/obsession, mentions of homophobia, kinda? Toxic relationship, manipulation, I kinda wrote the reader from a BPD perspective so she could have some traits. Let me know if there's anything missing! NO DANCE OF DRAGONS AU! Note: English is not my first language! And this is my first time writing a fic so please let me know what you think <3 Also there is very few use of Y/N! 

Words: 2.9K

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“May I join you, Princess?” 

The oh so familiar voice echoes through the empty gardens of the red keep perturbs your quiet late night stroll.

“Of course, Your Grace…” You reply while looking at the bushes filled with different coloured roses. “Is something the matter?”

 You wished to deny her, you really did… but as always, you failed to do so, you just could not bring yourself to say no to her, nor to reject her presence, the one that made you feel that stupid agonising passion that made you wish it was possible that two people were one. You wanted to be binded to her. You wanted to lay down under the same tree where you kiss her so desperately, and merge with her so you could never be separated from one another ever again.

She approaches ever so carefully, moving her hand slightly forward, making your hands faintly touch… An innocent mistake is what she would answer if you reproach her.

“Not at all” She gently caresses the edge of the rose petals in front of you. “I simply wished to know if you have received any letter from my son” A lie. “I know i have not received one since he left” Another lie. You knew for a fact that Aemond had written to the Dowager Queen, he told you himself in the only letter he had written to you, and you had heard Princess Helaena trying and failing to tell Aegon about what their brother had written to their mother… “Mother said he was vague , but that he was well… he wrote that he is not bored as he expected to be and that he is actually having a good time…” is what you heard Helaena say, but you stopped listening when Aegon groaned at his sister-wife’s words.

“What is your need to lie to me, Your Grace?” You did not look up from the flowers, you did not dare. “You always lie, at this point i find myself believing that lying is the only thing you know how to do”

That gained you a sigh from her “You are right, I apologize…” she whispers “I just wanted to be alone with you—”

“Please, do not say anything else and just leave” you cut her off in a hostile tone but whispered voice “You said it yourself, we are sinful. This is a sin. We are wrong and the Gods will punish us if we do not stop whatever twisted and vile-” she cut you off when she placed her hand on your cheek, caressing it gently with her thumb.

“I know, my darling but—” she tries to plead, but her words get cut off again. You step back, causing her hand to drop back to her side. “You always do this!” you whisper loudly “You always do this! And it is not fair that you get to treat me like a stupid toy that you only wish to hurt!” Tears are rolling down your face at this point, much to your dislike.

“I am so stupidly tired of this, and I simply cannot bear this anymore…” You closed your eyes and tried to be strong and take a deep breath, but it came out shaky and broken. “...I have two children, Alicent… What am I supposed to tell them when they see me cry in front of them because I just can’t take it anymore? That their grandmother's favorite pastime is to hurt me…? 

“Princess, you are speaking foolishly—” The Dowager Queen tries to say calmly, but once again, she finds her words being cut off.

“Am I?!” You are shouting at this point. The anger, the frustration, the pain, the hurt, everything, finally finding a way out. “Yes you are!” The older woman shouted, matching your tone. “My goal has never been to hurt you! Your pain is the last thing I would ever wish for! Ever!” “You are a liar! You have proven yourself to be—”

“I do not lie to hurt you, I lie so I do not lose you!” She starts to lower her voice, although her tone is still full of frustration. “I love you, you know that very well” “No you do not, if anything you despise me” The Targaryen princess tries to say firmly, but her voice wavers from the tears she has spilled “You would have to despise someone to hurt them like you have hurt me” You look at Alicent right in the eyes “Maybe is not me who you wish to hurt. Maybe you wish to hurt my mother and I am nothing more than a discardable piece to accomplish it.” Your breath quickens, your heart hurts and you feel like dying… you feel as if nothing matters anymore, and at this very moment you just wish to die. 

“You just cannot stand the fact that my mother is Queen, can you? And you are not only taking your frustrations out on me, but you are also trying to hurt her through me. That is what I am to you, right?”

“I will not allow you to say such idiotic, and simply untrue words” Alicent is angry. Angry at herself, angry at the Gods… but she is not angry at you, not fully at least. How can she blame you for thinking that? 

She should have been smarter about this whole relationship, the Hightower thought to herself. She should have never given into her sinful desires, but the want overpowered her… If she didn't know better, she would have thought that you were the reward the Gods had given her for enduring more than fifteen years of not only being Viserys' wife, but also a Queen… Turns out you were not her reward, but her damnation.

“I love you, Y/N” She states, her voice unwavering “I do. I love you more than i have ever loved anything before” The auburn haired woman lets out a tired sigh before walking closer to you. She lifts a hand to place at your waist out of pure habit, but she decides against it when she sees the anger and hurt still lingering in the younger girl's eyes. “I do not feel angry at the thought of Rhaenyra sitting on the throne, I promise you that. If anything, I am relieved… I do not have as much responsibility as I had before… And I do have more liberties too, the eyes of the court are not on me anymore, at least most of the time they are not… If Aegon had been crowned king, most of the responsibility still would have been thrown at me, besides I know he would have not been a good king…” Alicent fidgets with her hands as she continues “And the stupid anger i had for your mother, the foolish one sided fight i had with her for years… is over. I know the tension remains, but I promise you, Y/N, I do not hate her, nor do I wish for her downfall or to cause her pain. I wish her well in her reign.” The older woman’s hands grip the fabric of her dress in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay. “So no, you are not “a discardable piece”, Princess” The Princess does not know what to say, so she ultimately decides to sit at a nearby bench in complete silence. “My dear…” Alicent whispers to the younger woman. “I do not believe you.” The princess does not look up from the ground. “I do not believe a word of what you just said.” Alicent has to swallow a sob, but she cannot hold the tears any longer.

“...Why not?” The Hightower whispers as she tries to wipe her falling tears.

“Why…!?” You stand up from the bench and walk towards her, “Why do I not believe you, you ask?! Because like I said before, you have proven yourself to be a liar, Alicent!” The Princess looks up in an attempt to stop more tears to fall, but quickly realizes that it was a futile attempt to stop what she cannot control. “And because you have never once told me about what you just said. You never open up or tell me how you feel! So how am I supposed to believe you?!” The older woman tightens her lips before speaking up. “Alright. You want me to open up? i will.” Alicent steps closer to you and lifts both of her hands to place them on your waist, and this time she decides not to stop the action. “I wish I was born a man so that I could have you like your husband has you. I wish that I was a man so that loving you was not a sin, but I have slowly come to accept that I would gladly be damned to any of the seven hells if it means that I get to have you, to love you, or to even see your face every day. But I still wished that I was born a man… because it is not fair that my own son gets to have you but if I do as much as to touch your hand I will be considered a sinner by the Gods.” She sounds desperate… She looks desperate. 

“I wish I was a man, so I could grab you by your waist, and push you against a wall, and kiss you until you stopped breathing, and do it without fear” Her hands move to your hips. “….If I were a man, I would use you, I would spoil you, I would devour you, but above all I would love you without fear” Alicent’s grip tightens against your hips. “Oh, Princess… How I would love you… If only fate would have been kinder…”

You have stayed quiet up until this point, the words you are hearing have both made you feel like the most loved woman in the seven kingdoms, and the most doomed one at the same time. “...I do  not want you a man, I want you…” You whisper, but your voice does not lack certainty. “I want you as you are…”

Alicent’s eyes look at your own. She is looking at you with such love and tenderness… the kind that makes you melt and doubt if anyone has ever been loved like that before. “I know, sweetling…” The woman’s right hand moves to your tear stained cheek.

You look at Alicent with a pained expression “I love you” Your hand reaches her cheek as you lean forward for a kiss. You kiss her softly, trying to demonstrate with a kiss all the love you feel for her.

On the other hand, Alicent needs you. She needs to feel you, she needs to taste you, she needs to love you… So she deepens the kiss and squeezes your hips. You break the kiss, but not the distance. As you two look at each other, Alicent’s hands move up from your hips to your back. She wastes no time in starting to undo them with practiced ease. “Alicent—” She finishes unlacing your dress, making it loose on you. “Shhh my dear…  We will be fine…” The older woman utters before kneeling on the soft grass and extending her hand to you, a silent invitation.

As soon as you kneel, her hands are on you again, taking off your dress. You gently grab her face and pull her in for a hungry kiss, which makes her moan in your mouth. 

The princess’ hands are tangled in the Hightowers' hair, pulling her as close as possible, trying to become one with the woman that she loves oh so dearly.

As soon as your dress is out of the way, and you are only covered by your undergarments, Alicent’s mouth shifts to your collarbone, peppering kisses as she works on removing your undergarments. She was like a woman starved. She needs you, and you need her just as much. When your undergarments are not an obstacle anymore, her mouth reaches your breasts. She kisses the soft flesh with a mix of love and hurry, making your throat release sweet gasps and making your back arch.

Oh Gods, the sounds… They only fueled Alicent’s want more and more, and it did not help that your fingers had started to unlace her dress, making it each second more and more loose.

You needed that damned dress off of her, you needed to take it off of her just as she had taken yours off of you. You needed to feel her bare body against yours. You needed her in the way you have never needed anything else… In fact, you are sure that nobody else has ever experienced this kind of need and want.

Alicent continues worshipping your breasts as if they were deities themselves. Her tongue licks your nipple while her hand massages the other, and the moans that come out of your mouth are inevitable.

You finally manage to take the dress off of her, leaving her only in her undergarments… But still, that was more clothing that you wanted her in. “I think it is a little unfair that you have those on while I am almost completely bare, do you not think so?”

The older woman sits up a little bit, stopping her ministrations on your breasts. “You are right, princess… It is not at all fair” Right after she says those words, she removes the upper part of her undergarments, leaving her chest exposed to you. Your mouth finds itself immediately in her breasts… kissing, biting, licking…

A sweet moan falls from her lips , causing you to softly moan in return.

Alicent gently pushes you to lay on the grass, but not before putting your dress as a blanket for you to lay on, causing you to smile at her caring act. “I love you so much… I did not think it was possible to love this much…” You whisper to her, and those may be the truest words you have ever said.

“I love you too. More than anything” She lays down next to you, and instantly kisses you again while she runs her hands through your body. “You are all I need, and there is no such thing as something that I would not do for you, my sweetest girl”

Alicent’s hand reaches your hips and as soon as she grabs the hem of the bottom part of your undergarments, she slides them down your legs.

“We should go to my chambers… or yours, anyone could see us here—” Your words are stopped when two of her digits rub your clit in the way only she could “Oh Gods…!”

Any thought of getting caught had suddenly vanished from your mind, and instead, it was replaced by pleasure and Alicent’s name.

“No one will see us, my darling” She moves her fingers faster, while her other hand caresses your hair ���It is the hour of the owl…” She stops her movements so she can position herself between your legs “And everyone knows that this pacific garden is yours, my love, no one will come, do not worry in vain” She reassures you once she is kneeled in between your legs. 

The only response you could give to her was a weak nod, but that quickly changed once her tongue made contact with your core, making you moan her name. 

Your hands made their way to Alicent’s hair, tangling themselves between the strands. The only thoughts you had were of Alicent, nothing more, nothing less. 

One of Alicent’s hands grips one of your thighs, while the other one travels up and towards your chest.

The Dowager Queen was lost on you. On your taste, on how you feel, on how you sound… This is everything she could ever want.

“Alicent…!” You moan loudly as your back arches, involuntarily searching for more. “Alicent I’m close…!”

The older woman's hand reaches for your own, stopping her movements on your breast , and instead intertwines her fingers with yours.

“Go ahead, my darling” Alicent says without moving away from your clit, softly moaning at the taste.

Your grip on your love’s hair tightens, and your eyes roll back. It felt as if you were on fire, and you never wanted it to end… You moan and gasp Alicent’s name as you reach your climax,  your hips bucking up towards your lover’s mouth to ride the last waves of pleasure.

Alicent crawls up and lays next to you… Her hand gently caresses your body as she places a sweet kiss on your lips, when she pulls away she takes her time to admire you… spent, panting, and underneath the moonlight. 

“...Run away with me…”

[honeyynymphh]

An Ever-Fixed Mark

|| Otto Hightower x Fem!Reader/OC || Rating: T (for now) Chapter: 1 of 5 Words: 2.8k

Married to Aemond Targaryen, life at court has not been what Lady Brakenwyn ever imagined. It is monotonous and lifeless inside the Red Keep with a husband who does care for her and who would rather spend coin in the slums of Kings Landing than with his own wife. She can't help but let her mind wander and yearn for the affections of a man who pays her the slightest attention - a man that she cannot have: the Hand of the King. Tags: pining, forbidden romance, infidelity, author is prone to purple prose (tags will be updated as story progresses) Ao3 Link

A/N: This story is in first person so can be read as a reader insert or as an OC, she is not described nor does she have a first name. No Y/N. Reader is married to Aemond but he is barely in the story. I have not read any books so I am operating on vibes mostly. I just want to write about that old man.

How embarrassing it was to be wed to a child. At least, that was what I felt my life had become. While Aemond Targaryen was a man grown, he still clung to the temperament of boyhood and delighted too much in the station he had been born with. The banquet hall was loud and raucous with the sound of happy chatter and laughter. Though I felt no joy as I sat at the large table on my own, watching my husband whisper to some other lady in a dark corner. I knew our marriage was nothing more than a political alliance and also some sort of punishment for the prince. Or perhaps not a punishment, but a desperate hope that he would act more as a prince should if he were wed. So quickly had I seen the foolishness in such a notion that I was surprised anyone had thought our union was a good idea.

I sighed and stared into my wine cup. I wished to be anywhere but here in the Red Keep, and certainly not at this name day celebration for a man I had tried to love and only grown to resent. As soon as I had arrived in King’s Landing I felt as if I didn’t belong. Where I was older than the prince, I felt out of place in court amongst those my own age. The other ladies were polite but we had not grown together so to them I was nothing but an outsider. The queen was kind to me, in a sort of distant fashion. I felt her disappointment in me, as if I could fix Aemond and unite mother and son once more - more foolishness. I snuck a glance at her and could see the annoyance that caused her lovely face to frown as she watched her second son.

“My lady, would you dance with me?”

The words startled me from my musings and I glanced across the table to see Ser Henry, at least I was sure that was his name. I knew him to be one of Prince Aegon’s Kingsguard, though I frequently saw him speaking with Aemond. He seemed to be the only one who even acknowledged my existence. I was certain that my husband had sent him over to me, to entertain me…to keep me happy. Aemond treated me as if I were one of the family’s dragons, not that I was capable of much strength nor fire breathing or flight. But I was capable of making more little baby dragons and that was all my worth had become, not that he put any effort into such an endeavor.

I forced a smile on my face and nodded at the knight, before making my way towards him. I took his proffered hand and let him lead me into the crush of people dancing amongst the glowing candelabras. I barely paid attention to anything but the music, the glorious sound of lutes and harps mingling together to create such beautiful sounds as I let him lead me across the floor. This I knew would be the closest I ever came to flying, no matter how hard I prayed to the gods to give me wings so I could leave this place.

“He says you should try and look happy,” whispered Ser Henry, his lips barely moving.

My face twitched but I mostly kept it blank as I stared at a point over his armoured shoulder.

“Maybe he should try and make me happy,” I said.

“Lady Brakenwyn.”

It was just my name, my old name, but it was a warning. The ‘Lady from the Riverlands’ was all I was to those in King’s Landing, even though I had not set foot there since I had been a child. As a ward of House Hightower, I had spent most of my life in Oldtown and had assumed I’d be promised to someone in the Reach. How I wish my mother hadn’t been such a scheming woman and my father so happy let her do as she pleased.

“He will send you back to the Riverlands.”

In a box, was clearly left unsaid. Foolishness on my part, that had been, to think my mother would be content with a match from a noble house in the Reach. No, my houses’ army and fealty was worth a Prince.

I held my tongue, not wishing to argue when I knew it would be in vain. It was pointless the threats, I knew they needed my parents fealty and would not displease House Brakenwyn by sending back their only child in a wooden casket. How stupid I had been a year ago to think coming to King’s Landing would be like in the stories, that I would be happy to be wed to a prince and to live in such a castle with the rulers of Westeros. How I missed how hopeful and joyous I had been before coming here.

But I would not let my melancholy ruin one of my only pleasures as Ser Henry continued to sweep me across the stone floor, his steps were a little erratic and his grip unsure but it improved my mood drastically. The music changed, the melody becoming more upbeat and while I could not recall the name of it, I knew it well. It was accompanied by a simple dance that involved changing partners and swinging steps, it was the sort of dance better suited for warm nights outside, not trapped in a stone room. But that didn’t deter me, I was happy as I switched Ser Henry to dance with a stout but cheerful nobleman, red in the face from drink who laughed heartily as he spun me around. I couldn't help but laugh in response to his merriment, even as he repeatedly stood on my feet. My spirits grew when I heard the sound of Princess Helaena’s laughter drift towards me. My head turned to see her as she danced with her grandfather, who smiled at her in such a way that I wished so desperately to have bestowed upon my own person.

It would not do for me to stare, and I did try not to, but I couldn’t help it as the dance drew us near. Helaena smiled dreamily at me, as was her way, before I was suddenly in the arms of the Hand of the King. Unlike the unsure grip of Ser Henry and the over eagerness of the drunken nobleman, Otto Hightower held me with an assuredness and reverence that made my heart swell. The Hand was one of the few people I spoke to at length, as I frequently saw him in the castle library. His gentle manner and keen mind had managed to captivate me, and though I knew it was fatuous to have such thoughts about a man, not only so much older than I, but the grandfather of my own husband, I could do nothing to stop the growing fondness I felt for him.

I smiled at him, unable to help how earnest it was despite my inner admonishments. Afterwards, I would pray that he only thought my exuberance due to the dancing and not him. I didn’t wish to embarrass myself. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately in the case of idiotic fantasies, I was back with Ser Henry, watching as Ser Otto and Helaena were lost in the crowd.

“That’s better, my lady,” said Ser Henry at the expression on my face. “You look so much prettier when you smile. Perhaps you should dance more often.”

I merely nodded in response, it was pointless to speak any further.

When my feet throbbed, no thanks to the drunken nobleman, I returned to the high table and gave my thanks to Alicent, who had been busy attentively whispering in the King’s ear, before slinking out of the Great Hall and to my chambers. I had no desire to speak to Aemond, I had already given him my well wishes in the morning and that had been received as well as anything I ever said to him, which was mostly indifference.

It was much cooler in the empty corridors of the Keep and the silence a welcome respite from the manic noise of the celebrations. I walked distractedly until I pushed through the heavy door and into my room. My chambers were linked to Aemond’s, though it was a passage several feet in length with a heavy door at each end. His door was frequently locked. At first I had locked my own until I realised he had a key and would let himself in, usually to cast judgements upon me. I thought our shared interest in reading would have brought us close but all it did was earn his ire. He didn’t trust me and I had learnt not to trust him. I did not know where Aegon spent most of his nights, or more aptly, whom he spent them with. But I did not care, as long as he left me alone.

The next day dawned slowly, the sun's rays gradually filtering through the high windows of the windows of the Red Keep as if she too were reluctant to rise from her bed. I usually awoke early, preferring to spend the morning in the godswood as it was often empty, though I allowed myself a longer rest after the nights dancing. The bird calls were gentle and the breeze soft when I reached the godswood. Sometimes out here I could pretend I was not trapped in a prison of stone as I sat on a bench and let the wind gently caress my face, the fresh air lifting my spirits. It was a tranquil place that felt disconnected from the Red Keep in a way that I relished. I had chosen a dress of periwinkle blue, I so rarely wore the colours of House Targaryen - a small rebellion on my part, and I admired the way the sunlight made the fabric glitter, reminding me of the Honeywine River during twilight.

I did not linger long as I knew Ser Otto would be in the library at this time, he did not spend every day there but I had learnt his routine without even thinking to do so. Every so often, I made sure to arrive either early or late, so that it would not seem as if I followed him like some unwanted shadow. Perhaps all we would say to each other would be a greeting, but it was enough to keep my melancholy at bay. There were few comfortable chairs but many tables, usually covered in scrolls and other texts. Ser Otto was fond of a small desk in one of the alcoves as it was near a high window, the light filtering through making it easier to read. One of the few chairs that were nearby was my favourite as it allowed me to curl within it like a cat so I could read and bask in the warmth of the sunshine. I hadn’t even noticed him the first time we had shared that little alcove.

I took my usual spot, opening the book I had been reading and settled in. The Hand had not arrived yet and I was uncertain as to whether he would come today after last night. I knew a council meeting would be held soon and surely he would prefer to rest before attending. But my disappointment at these thoughts were short lived when I heard his measured footsteps, I knew the sound by heart. I pretended not to notice him until his low and soft gravelly words greeted me. That was all we said before he sat down to work. I did not ask what he did, I didn’t think it was my business to enquire into the workings of the Hand of the King, but I was glad for it.

I shouldn’t have observed him as closely as I did. My eyes shouldn’t have lingered over the way his hand held the quill and how deftly it would sweep across the page as he took notes. Occasionally, while reading, he would lick the tip of his finger so he could turn a page. I’d feel my breath stick in my throat then as if I could feel his mouth upon my own body. Aemond rarely lay with me, I think I could count upon one hand the few times we had been together as husband and wife. But when we had, he had been so bare, so smooth—the only hair on him that which was on his head. If it wasn’t for his eye, he would be a blank canvas. Ser Otto looked worn in the way that a favourite book did. There were stories there. How I yearned deep in the pit of my belly to trace the lines of his face and to feel his beard scratch against my inner thigh.

I took in a shuddering breath at that thought and looked away, feeling the heat suffuse my face. I knew he was looking at me then and I heard the creak of his chair as he came to stand before me.

“My lady, are you well?” His low voice rumbled and I nodded my head in response. “Are you certain?”

I gathered my scattered wits and looked up at him. “Yes, my lord hand.”

He smiled at me, a small but reassuring quirk of the lips. I treasured it, even though I knew it was nothing more than some sort of perfunctory affection on his part. I was the wife of one of his grandchildren and from a house aligned with the Hightowers. I knew this to be true yet I could not squash the terrible hope within me that he meant it.

I knew I needed to stop this ridiculous fascination. But I clung to it, even more so in the nights. When I lay alone and in the silence of the Keep, with nothing more than the sound of rain pouring against the glass panes, I would think of him and pretend he held me. That he would whisper such sweet things in my ear and offer comfort that I had not felt in years…comfort I don’t think I’d ever truly felt.

Perhaps it was the unattainable nature of it all that enthralled me so. It was a safe dream to have, even though it gnawed at my guilty conscience. Why should I not have such thoughts? It wasn’t as if I were the one spending most nights in the Street of Silk. Even if I had shared a room with my husband, I would have been alone.

The seventh day was tomorrow and I knew I would have to pray even harder for my fanciful mind. I looked down at the book in my lap and tried to go back to the passage I was reading but I barely took a word in.

“It was good to see you enjoying the evening’s festivities during Aemond’s name day celebrations.”

I looked up at Ser Otto again to find his attention was still fixed on me as he waited for my response.

“You dance very well,” I said, wishing I had something more intelligent to say.

“For an old man?”

I blanched and hastily tried to correct his assumptions. “No! I didn’t mean that, Lord Hand, I was simply expressing my commendation.” I shifted awkwardly in my chair. “I do not think you are old.”

The man smiled, an eyebrow raising in amusement. I realised suddenly he had been jesting with me.

“It’s been a long time,” he said with a sigh, “but if your only comparison is Ser Henry and Lord Lyrmount, then I would seem full of grace.” He smiled again at me, it was small but conspiratorial in the way it lingered about his mouth. “I hope your feet have recovered well enough.”

“Yes, thank you,” I replied even as my feet throbbed in remembrance of Lord Lyrmount's clumsy steps.

He said no more and I knew our conversation ended for the day, but how I treasured it and the small but pleasurable smiles he had given me. He packed his things then, I noted how neatly he always did so, and I was constantly drawn to the precise movements of his hands and tried to ignore the thoughts of said hands touching my skin with the same careful reverence that he gave those old books.

As he left, I felt I had achieved something momentous with him being able to jest with me, as if I were waging some little war for his affection - despite how foolhardy the battle was. I tried to tell myself he merely tolerated me because of my marriage but I couldn’t help but think he did like me, in a way. He could have sat anywhere else in the library or avoided me completely - I knew there was ample space in the Tower of the Hand and he had no need to be here.

I smiled to myself at this small victory and happily returned to my book as the footsteps of the Hand faded into the distance.

A/N: I wrote a lot of this with COVID brain fog so I apologise if anything makes no sense.

Title is from Sonnet 116 by Shakespeare

[theforgottenmcrmy]

live reactions to house of the dragon season 2, episode 1: a son for a son

i'm basically doing this for my own amusement and reference, but i'm also up for constructive discussions on the episode if anyone feels like commenting

(but if you feel inclined to yell at me for any of my comments, please remember that these are fictional characters, and everyone is entitled to their own opinions🖤)

spoilers beneath the cut

it’s still the s1 recap and I’m already tearing up, can’t believe s2 is finally here

Jaw is dropped, actual chills at new intro. I love it

Winterfell theme=instant tears

Cregan Stark, the man that you are

“Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince” YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT THEY DON’T 🐺

The cave dragon-mounting platform setup? Love it.

“The mother grieves as the queen shirks her duties.” ~ harsh, but the truth

“Would that you were the king” ~ the queen who never was 💅

Rhaenyra 💔

Not Corlys commissioning a dagger for Lucerys😭 he doesn’t give af about blood, that was his grandson through and through.

Here we go, what have the Usurper and crew been up to….

Am I misremembering, or weren’t scorpions a relatively new invention during GOT?

OMG

wtf

I literally can’t with these two 🤡 like

The BALLS of Criston Cole with the damn cape like wtf.

Aegon, did you really expect the North or the Vale to answer you? If your councilors didn’t give you a heads up that that was not likely, you ought to fire them and get new ones.

Tyland and Jaehaerys😂 a pony ride?! These writers were in a silly goofy mood. Although, I will say it’s interesting to see the Lannisters being the ones to take orders for once, rather than give them.

Aegon really shows his age and lack if maturity here doesn’t he?

LARYS

LARYS IS ON THE CASE 🕵️‍♂️

The real question is how will he react when he sees what the dowager queen and ser Crispin have been up to. I’m gonna wager it won’t be pretty

Not Arrax’s wing

LUKE’S CAPE?!😭😭😭

I get they’re trying to make Aegon a bit more likeable this season, but as a member of the audience, I can’t help but feel like that would be SO much more effective if we didn’t already know that he was a predatory 🍇 ist 🤷🏼‍♀️

Otto needs to retire.

Good ol’ Larys, already schmoozing up his next meal ticket. Can’t knock the strategy though.

Alicent’s really trying to justify what happened to Lucerys 🤡

I’m getting the sense Alicent will have wished she kicked Otto out of the Red Keep herself by the time he finally gets canned

House Velaryon theme = always a banger

Mysaria’s accent is SUCH an improvement this season! 👏🏻

Daemon’s desperately pointing fingers at ANYONE who was even remotely close to Aegon😂

That little moment between Rhaenyra and Daemon was so little but said so much

“I want Aemond Targaryen” HELLS YEAH YOU DO 🖤🖤🖤

Daemon- “your wish is my command” 😇

I love that Baela accompanied Jace to go see Rhaenyra.

Jace💔 can’t even get through his report…

Rhaena😭

NOT THE DAMN TOY HORSE FROM BACK IN THE DAY

Jace and Joffrey😣

The fact that Rhaenyra and Alicent both accept what happened to Luke at the same time, but in different ways…. Cinematic poetry right there

A son for a son🤷🏼‍♀️

We love those in King’s Landing who remain true loyalists to the Queen🖤

What would Aemond think if he knew what the Commander of the Kings Guard and his mother do together in their free time🤔

Something funny about a man with no dragon experience and a young prince with no true battle experience talking about a war with dragons as though they’re even remotely knowledgeable…

What vengeance does Aemond seek at this point? Alicent even suggested it was because Lucerys was never punished for taking his eye… Aemond literally unalived Luke. At this point, the Greens seem to have all the advantage. So, at this moment, what exactly does Aemond want?

If anything happens to the dog I stg-

Don’t think Aemond would appreciate you referring to him as a “hound”, Aegon, but go off, I guess

Okay kicking the dog was so not fucking necessary-

Lucerys died during a storm, and it looks like someone else is about to too 👀

The fact that Blood is the voice of reason rn

Helaena💔 you don’t deserve any of this

Okay these noises are fucking AWFUL 😭😭😭💔💔💔

Helaena, not knowing where to go, going to her mother’s chambers🥲

OF FUCKING COURSE these two are at it again like- will they stop now? Will Criston at least have the decency to feel immense guilt and put an end to it himself?

While one can argue Criston Cole has a power dynamic to contend with in both situations (though I would argue he still consented to both), the difference is Rhaenyra was 17, and and Alicent is a woman in her 30s who also prides herself on being religious and practically pious🤷🏼‍♀️ one of them really ought to have known better then sleeping with a member of the Kingsguard, but I won’t say which one.

The Blackwoods and the Brackens!!!

Dragon eggs?👀

[khaleesi-posts-stuff]

Betrayal? You know so much about it, don't you? (Daemon Targaryen)

"My lord, It has been a boy, they named him Aemond." The maester said, which led to her father rejoicing.

"Ahh yes, all enough to usurp the old cunt and then make one of them as King of the Seven Kingdoms!" Otto rejoiced, without seeing the lethal look he received from his second daughter

"Well father, I may leave to take care of the prince Aegon. He shall become a good King one day." replied the princess royal, the title which was gifted by Viserys on her 18th name day. "My daughter, he shall be!"

*****

"My appreciation for taking care and loving my step-niece, Laenor." Leanora Hightower showed empathy to the boy who was forced to push away his feelings and marry a woman. "Tis I should be apologizing, princess. I have thought bad of your name."

"You are right. My father is a cunt and my sister is desperate to make her drunk son king. What shall I do?"

"You are the daughter of the hand? Don't you want your bloodline on the Iron Throne?"

"No, I don't want to risk my children's life to make them princes or kings. They shall be lords and noblemen." Leanora replied, making Laenor gawk at her, he had never seen a kind Hightower

"Aemond shall be a great warrior one day, he has the talent to be." Alicent joined in on the conversation with Laenor. Leanora was truly happy that Alicent was finally noticing her second son and not Aegon.

"He really does"

"I agree"

"Well, my Queen and my Prince, I shall go back to Rhaenyra and comfort her for the loss of her best friend" Leanora felt bitter saying that, as she was the one true friend the Princess of Dragonstone had. She had never acknowledged her after her sister's marriage to her father.

'Princess, I am very sorry for your loss, I shall pray for Laena's soul, she was a good woman. She will always be remembered"

"I'm sorry, what shall I address you again? Princess or Princess Royal?" Rhaenyra asked, mockery lingering in her tone telling her that she did not deserve that title, she did not even look at Leanora, her gaze was just on Daemon Targaryen. Leanora scoffed internally, the princess held too much pride to even talk to her. Let alone being smitten with a man who had just lost his wife.

"Princess Royal," that was all said by Leanora before she knew what she had to do. Daemon Targaryen was Laena Velaryon's husband, she knew that the princess Rhaenyra was in love with him when she was of age

"My condolences on the loss of your wife, Prince Daemon," said Leanora, Daemon heard the 'sincerity' in her voice

"She died the death of a Dragon rider, and for that she wanted me to be grateful." Daemon replied, making Leanora honestly fell bad for him, he was rejected in the name of a hand and was replaced with a cunt of a man, she felt bad for that. "Did your sister send you?"

"No, why would she send me to speak with you. I know that she does not support your actions, but she is not the kind of person to use weakness against her opponent, Daemon."

"Tis you know about your sister that much, hmm?" Daemon chuckled, making Leanora confused.

"Hightowers love to have power, don't you? Are you trying to seduce me, Leanora Hightower?" Daemon had already pulled Dark Sister with one hand and was gripping her bodice with another. He was aiming Dark Sister right at her chest, if she moved closer, the sword would be cutting her skin.

"Is it working, Daemon Targaryen," the moment she said that, Daemon's grip on her waist tightened and blood was pouring from her chest, the sword hadn't reached her heart but was only piercing on her skin, making her moan in pain.

"Is this because of Rhaenyra, are you afraid that she'll marry me?"

"You wish, my dragon can burn anyone into a crisp." Daemon chuckled "Dragon? What dragon?"

"You did not know?"

"what are you referring to?" Daemon asked "I am not a Hightower, my prince. I am the bastard daughter of your brother, my hair is hidden by the maester's dye."

"You're- You're older than Rhaenyra?" Daemon stuttered, it was his destiny to end up with a niece.

"Yes, but I have no interest for a crown"

"Listen, you are a Hightower, a house lower than Targaryens. I shall marry you and take you as my slave, nothing else."

"I am a princess royal, the title was given to me by my father I am not a slave to be bought" the words were no true, if Daemon had asked to marry her, she would be delighted. The words were given large spaces as Daemon had already started to kiss her neck.

"I shall not marry you."

Taking your silence as confirmation, his smirk widened, "I could simply reach out and take what I wanted, but I like to think of myself as a somewhat honorable man. So I'll give you a choice." 

Daemon held out his leather gloved hand to you, his fingertips nearly brushing the front of your gown he was so close now. "Make it easy and come with me now, or run and take your chances in the forest. If you can escape me, you have my word I'll let you go. But," Suddenly those fingertips were hooked in the neck of your gown, jerking you up against his chest and reminding you of his superior height now that you had to tilt your head up to meet his gaze, filled with wicked intent. His fingers slid lower, sliding between your breasts and resting against your skin as he inclined his head towards you, "If I catch you, I will not be gentle, dārilaros."

Dārilaros. Princess. His accented High Valyrian made your thighs clench. Or maybe it was his fingers rubbing soft circles against your skin. Your gown still clutched in his fist, refusing to let you stray so much as an inch away. 

"I'm not a princess." You breathed, your only defense sounded as useless in your ears as you knew it was. 

"Had your father given me what I asked for that night at my brother's wedding, you would be my princess already." The sudden darkness in his tone sent a shiver across your skin, but he didn't give you time to think any further, "Now make your choice before I make it for you." 

"Then release me, Daemon. I have a new life to begin now that you have taken a torch to my old one." There was a part of you that could have happily taken his hand. With his scent in your lungs and feeling every inch of his body pressed against you it might have even been easy. 

But you craved surrender no more than gentleness. 

You expected to see a flash of anger in his eyes. Perhaps disappointment. Instead he radiated satisfaction. Like you'd woken a sleeping beast he was tired of keeping contained. He released you, pushing you back a step into the trees. "Run." 

So you had. 

It felt like hours had passed. You knew it wouldn't be long before you reached the creek. You could follow it to the break in the trees and then into the hills. You knew the land better than Daemon. Surely it gave you the upper hand. 

Every sound had nearly made you jump out of your skin. Every shadow making you sure he was closing in. Your mind playing tricks on you in the darkness.

You told yourself that lie about having an advantage a dozen more times as your muscles grew sore, but you could make out the familiar path you'd traveled before in the distance. Just a little bit further and -

A pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you off your feet and spinning you around so quickly the world blurred until you found yourself pressed up against the rough bark of a tree trunk. Daemon's warm body pinning you there. Your gasp of surprise lost in his grunt of satisfaction.  One hand snatching your wrist and pulling your arm behind your back. He leaned in close, his breath tickling tendrils of your hair by your ear as his fingers twisted through the strands, pulling hard enough to make you gasp again, "I did warn you that I would not be gentle." 

Despite your lungs burning for oxygen you managed a breathless smile. You turned your head as much as his grip would allow, "Why do you think I ran?" 

You saw only a flash of that same darkly satisfied smile before he spun you around again, releasing your wrist but keeping his grip in your hair. Your back now against the tree as his mouth depended on yours in a rough, demanding kiss. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip to elicit another gasp before his tongue was invading your mouth. Claiming every inch for himself as his other hand settled on your hip. You could feel the curve of his lips as you twined your arms around his neck, pulling him closer still. 

Still feeling the spot on your lip that he'd bitten...wondering what his mark would look like in your skin. How it would feel.

"I'm going to make you mine," He promised against your lips, his hands slipping from your hip and hair to seize the front of your gown again. Only this time he tore the rich fabric straight down the middle, ripping at the fabric without ever breaking the kiss. Those gloved hands that had just claimed dozens of lives were ripping away the remains of the fabric, leaving a trail of heat across your skin. 

You reluctantly unwound your arms from his neck and instead grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling impatiently at until he raised his arms and helped you, tossing it aside  to the grass without a second thought. 

When your dress lay in tatters at your feet he pushed you back when you tried to kiss him again. His hand wrapping around your throat and keeping you pinned to the tree trunk as he took a small step back. Chuckling at your huff of annoyance, "Patience, my little qēlos. I didn't go through all the trouble of ripping it off not to admire what lies beneath." 

You felt a rush of heat across your skin at the way he studied you. His entire gaze focused on you and sweeping over every inch of your body. A sort of marvel in his eyes like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Naked hunger blazing in his emerald colored eyes. 

"What does that mean?" You breathed out, one hand resting over his. Trying to distract yourself from the cool night air nipping at your bare skin and the growing ache between your thighs waiting for him. Your study of the dead language was not nearly as robust as his.

"Star," He answered, his other hand working to undo his pants as he tilted your head up with his grip around your throat, "My light in the night sky that led me exactly where I wanted." 

It was your turn to study him without the barrier of his clothes. Just as his had, your gaze dropped to take in his muscular form. His peerless skin only disturbed by a collection of faded scars. His victories tangible in his flesh. 

He slowly stroked his hard cock, clearly enjoying leaving you tongue tied so easily. When your eyes found his in the darkness again, he flashed you another dark half-smile, "I've been dreaming of your cunt since the night we met; don't keep me waiting any longer." 

You weren't sure you could even if you wanted to.

You moved your hands to his hips, urging him closer. Spreading your legs wider when his foot urged yours further apart. Letting out a sharp breath as he ran the head of his cock along your wet slit. A stark reminder of the need that had been building since you saw him in the garden. 

Since you saw him at the wedding. 

Since every letter he'd sent you since promising to make you his no matter who stood in his way. No matter how many villages he had to burn to the ground to have you. 

Since the last one when he'd told you when he gave you a choice, he wanted you to run. 

Daemon's hand tightened around your throat as he pressed through your spongy walls, groaning with you at how tight he felt there. For just a moment he paused, looking to you. You nodded. No hesitation. 

With one sharp thrust he was buried in your depths. Making you gasp at the mixture off pain and pleasure. Need exploding through your entire body. You sunk your nails into his skin, feeling the roughness of the tree behind your back as his his ground into yours. 

His hand slid around from your throat to twist in your hair, cranking your head to the side as his thrusts grew faster. More brutal, claiming you all over again. Your hands moved up his back, letting your nails strike along his warm skin as you pulled him closer. 

He dipped his head down and began kissing along your neck. His warm breath ghosting against your skin. His tongue ran over your pulse point. He groaned again, lips moving against your flesh like he couldn't bring himself to pull away, "You taste sinful." 

He was sin. 

"Mark me," You begged breathlessly, rolling your hips into his. Desperate for more. For him. Ever since he'd bitten your lip you craved that same spike of pleasure again. You wanted to be his. You wanted everyone to know you were his. 

His hand slid between your bodies, palm flattening against your stomach, the rough pad of his thumb finding your clit as if he already knew your body like the back of his hand. You could feel his cock jerk with need in your depths, gasping as his cock rammed into your g-spot. You were so close to release. 

"Beg me again my desperate little slut, and I'll give you whatever you want." His fingers tugged harder at your hair. His words suggesting he held all the power, but his demand was just as much a plea. 

Ignoring the sting of pain, you turned your head, locking on to his gaze, "Please, Daemon." Your moaned out, barely capable of speech. God his name tasted so good on your lips. After weeks of seeing it written at the bottom of his letters you didn't think it could get better. But a piece of paper and ink couldn't show you the dark blaze of possessiveness burning in his eyes. 

"Hold still." He jerked your head to the side again, his teeth sinking into that sensitive spot his tongue had touched. You cried out at the flash of pain, at the pressure of his thumb against your clit, tracing rough circles against your throbbing bundle of nerves. 

"Not yet." 

His demanding growl left you disoriented. You could feel your muscles tightened like a coiled spring. That flash of pain almost pulling you into oblivion. 

In the blink of an eye he had withdrawn from your core, ignoring your confused whine. He pulled you to the soft earth beneath you, hovering over you. Caging you beneath him, pressing you into the dirt. 

There weren't words to describe how he looked towering over you in the moonlight, that wild hunger etched into every line of his face. 

In one harsh thrust he was inside you again, both your moans lost in the stillness of the night. He seized your wrists, slamming them down on either side of your head, holding them there more securely than chains ever could have. 

You wrapped your legs around him, savoring every second, feeling your body build towards your peak once again. Shivering at the feeling of your sweat running over the mark he'd left on your neck. 

You came together. The world shattering around you into a tidal wave of bliss. You screamed at the overwhelming pleasure. You committed the sound of his moans to memory, wanting to replay them again and again. 

Daemon fucked you through every second of the high. Your bodies pressed together. Your thighs trembling around him. The sounds coming out of your own mouth were foreign to you. You watched him tip his head back, his eyes rolling backwards and you were sure you'd never seen anything as addictive as his pleasure. 

In the aftermath he leaned into you, his forehead pressed against yours as you both struggled to catch your breath. His hands still clutched tightly around your wrists, his cock still buried in your core. 

Were you the devout lady your brother warned you to be, you'd be worried for your reputation. Instead you basked in the scent of sweat and sex and let your mind sink into the afterglow. 

"Thoroughly fucked is a good look on you," Daemon murmured, eliciting a smile from you as he pressed his lips to your forehead. 

Your eyes slipped closed as he shifted. You might have just drifted off then and there, but your body felt his absence like a physical ache. He moved again and you yelped in surprise as he suddenly flipped you on to your stomach, slapping his palm against your ass. Confusion taking over as he pulled your arms behind your back. You turned your head in time to see him bring the ruined fabric of your dress to his mouth, biting down and tearing off a piece. "What are you doing?" 

Daemon was already busying himself with binding your wrists together, pausing only long enough to press his finger against his lips, shushing you. 

When he was done he pulled you on to your knees. Behind you he pulled his pants back into place. He left the remains of your gown in the dirt, but grabbed his shirt to throw over your naked body. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. You didn't realize what it was until he bent and fastened the clasp around your neck. 

A silver necklace with a dragon's claw pendant. Clutched between the claws was an opaline stone, the same color as the stars above you that he'd compared you to. 

"Consider it a wedding gift." He kissed the top of your head before pulling you to your feet. Before you could ask again, he bent and tossed you over his shoulder, his arm looped tightly across your thighs to keep you in place. 

"And what should I consider this?" You asked, giggling. You could feel his smirk as he began walking in the direction of the manor.

"Enjoying The Revenge to Rhaenyra"

𝕸𝖞 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞/𝖔𝖓𝖊-𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙

(Plus, I can make this a series but only if I get 100 likes and reposts)

[mrdragonageherself]

Also related to dragon age I know I was super critical last night and I still have really low hopes but I do truly love the dragon age series I'm just so disappointed that EA keeps getting away with treating their fans and consumer base like shit thinking we'll lap up anything they give us for massive money when they abused and mistreated their staff and are so out of touch with what constitutes a good game because they don't care if we like it, they care if we BUY it.

But I am interested in Bellara and Davrin especially, with a special shout out to Lucanis and Taash. I'll always be sad they named a character Neve and spelled it that way so it tarnishes my opinion of the character but I am very excited for those characters.

I still maintain my criticisms. The voice acting in the ad sounded bad and low quality, with varric not even sounding like himself. I don't know why they made varric dark haired to show he's greying like... you can make him strawberry blonde and greying it IS possible. Harding sounded weird too and while I'm happy we finally have a dwarf romance option I wish it was a new character not someone we've met already. If they were going to give us someone we met already it shouldve been varric and it should've been in inquisition. (OR DA2 BECAUSE LETS BE REAL HIM AND HAWKE ARE SOUL MATES but varric *was* a new character in da2).

I also didn't love the art style but I didn't love it in inquisition either, i didn't mind if they went more cartoon-like, like they did in dragon age 2, I just wish it didn't feel like a different company made it every time and also I found the art style hard to process while in motion like the FPS was off, like I struggle with halo my brain just doesn't properly process what I'm seeing so I hope it flows better and is more comprehensive in game.

Also when people said they wanted it to be grim dark again we didn't mean literally get rid of lighting. Let's not pull a GOT here. And the criticisms of the script I think are still fair, DA:O and DA:2 were more grim dark than DA:I but they still had humour (it was in fact, a main draw in the game), people aren't looking to remove the humour from a grim dark they're just commenting it feels like very generic recycled and over used Hollywood phrases that lack real personality which is concerning.

I do have some hope and I desperately hope the game turns out to be good, and want to enjoy the characters and story, I just have really low expectations and the ad didn't make me feel much better.

Also whyyyyyy do all the handsome black male characters have a close shaved head like whyyyyy Davrin is an elf they could've given him soooo many cool hair styles, shaved sides and dreads, or long braids with beading, bantu knots, twists, an afro, ANYTHING but we got another shaved head. Which speaks to what we can expect from the character creator hair options as well, I suspect. I'm not even a proper curly girl if you're being GENEROUS my hair is 3A, but mostly 2C and there is never ANY curly options that are decent even a little bit I am always left wanting so I can only imagine how people with type 4 curls feel looking at the character creator options.

Anyways dragon age rant over.

[she-karev]

Mama Bear (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Imagine)

Previous Chapter Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Three

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Canon Season and Episode: Season 19 episode 9

AN: Hey guys, here’s the final chapter, be warned there is a pretty intense verbal fight ahead if your in the mood for a good scrap. The GIF above is Amber's outfit for the dinner party I hope you enjoy.

Summary: Amber and Andrew go have dinner with Owen, Teddy, Ben and Bailey that quickly turns sour as they fight with Altman and Hunt.

Words: 4965

January 13th, 2023

I walk out of my closet wearing my navy-blue blazer dress over my black lingerie and gold heels clacking the hard wood floors of our bedroom. My long blonde hair is down and wavy with an extra fluff to stand out. My makeup is done especially well with coral lipstick, nude eyeshadow and cat eyeliner. I’m in front of the oval standing mirror next to the closet in our bedroom putting the buttons through the loops so it can close fully. The dress is long sleeved, double breasted with big gold buttons and it reaches my knees giving me a businesswoman with style kind of look.

Andrew is still in the walk-in closet getting ready and I realize I forgot something, “Hey babe? Can you grab me a belt on your way out? It’s the gold one with a lot of circles.”

He comes out two seconds later in his blue thermal shirt with his leather jacket on and dark jeans. He tosses me the belt I asked for and I put it on completing my look sensing my husband’s eyes leering at me.

“Wow you look like a million bucks.”

I groan at how this dress is tighter on me post baby, “I feel like a million bucks stuffed inside a mini-Coach wallet. If there’s dessert we’re leaving because I’m afraid one piece of carb will make this dress pop and then Hunt won’t be mad about the ear after I gave him a peek at the goods.”

“You look gorgeous and that dress is tight in all the right areas, don’t worry.”

I walk toward him and give him a grateful kiss, “Your sweet. I wish we wouldn’t have to go to this thing but I’m desperate for human interaction even if it’s hosted by the parents of the child who bit ours. Twice.” I walk to the bed putting my things in my black crossbody still feeling mad at Hunt for allowing his daughter to bite mine again. I thought the ear pinching would soothe my anger but it didn’t.

Andrew looks at me slightly amused and slightly worried, “Will you try to behave? And leave Hunt with at least one good ear?”

I sigh but comply, “For you yes I will.” Carina walks inside the bedroom in her pajamas carrying Lucy in her arms, “Hey thanks so much for babysitting again.”

“Oh, it’s no problem it’s gonna be a fun night with me and Lucy isn’t that right booboo?” Carina babbles at the baby who stares at her blankly. She turns back to us with a smile, “I’ll call you if there’s any problems and I left the ringer on in case you call.”

I nod, “Okay I left breast milk in the fridge in case she gets hungry, she loves her little green dragon but in case she loses it we have about 10 more in the closet and I changed her about half an hour ago. Also, if she gets difficult just turn on-”

“Moana and sing along to her.” Carina repeats with a grin, “I know everything there is to know about babies cognata. Remember that you have two sister in laws who are OB’s.”

“Exactly I mean she’s basically Mary Poppins with a medical degree.” Andrew says to reassure me and turns me to face him, “She’ll be fine with her Zia Carina for the next two hours, maybe even three if we’re feeling crazy. We have about 18 years to go, let’s have at least one night as a couple instead of parents. Okay babe?”

I sigh and look at Lucy who looks content in Carina’s arms who nods reassuringly. I’m still worried but I know I need one night with my husband before I forget what I felt like pre baby, “Okay let’s hurry while I’m still brave come on let’s go.” Andrew quickly hands me my black coat and grabs the car keys. I stand in front of Carina and lean down to face Lucy with a smile, “Okay sweetie mommy and daddy will be back have fun with your Zia we love you.” I kiss her head and Andrew does the same.

“Love you bambina.” Andrew rushes me out of the house, no doubt thinking I’ll change my mind and turn around. And he was right to as every cell in my body aches with each step I take and not just from being away from my child for the night. I get the feeling that something really bad is about to happen at dinner.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Andrew and I exited the car parked outside of Owen and Teddy’s house. I carried the roasted peppers in a glass dish that Andrew made for the Hunt’s despite my insistence it wasn’t what they deserved. He already finished making them though so it was either eat it with them or throw it away and I am not one to waste good food. We spot Ben and Bailey walking down the sidewalk a few feet away from us, also carrying a dish.

“Hey.” They greet us back, “You brought something too?”

Bailey nods with a grin, “Yes ma’am apple pie my mother’s recipe what about you?”

“Roasted peppers on olive with lots of garlic.” Andrew goads as we walk with them, “You haven’t known what true Italian dishes taste like until you tried my peppers.”

“Trust me he’s not being arrogant he’s stating facts. The smell alone takes you to the land of pasta. I just wish we weren’t sharing that with Hunt and Altman two hours after their kid bit our kids.” I bitterly add.

“Yeah, that makes two of us.” Ben agrees, “It better be a good spread they have because I am holding as much back as I can.”

“Well at least you get to drink through this nightmare.” I groan, “I’m breastfeeding and I don’t want to risk damaging my baby with copious amounts of wine and vodka laced in her milk. Unfortunately, Altman doesn’t have to worry about that because I can smell the wine in her liver already.”

Ben chuckles, “And the rage in the air when she and Hunt are in the same room.”

“If this night goes bad, can you pull a Backdraft and start a fire so we can escape the dumpster fire that is a dinner with Hunt and Altman?”

“Were our spouses this grouchy when we decided to marry them?” Andrew asks Bailey who chuckles.

“Mine wasn’t but I think we both know the answer about yours.” We stop outside the door where Andrew rings the doorbell and Owen Hunt answers.

“Ben, Bailey, DeLuca’s. Enter at your own risk.” I try to keep a pleasant face as I enter the house with Andrew where Teddy greets us.

“Come on in.” She notices the dishes we brought, “Oooh look at that.”

Bailey hands her the dish, “Apple pie, my mother’s recipe. Maybe you can think of it when you are approving budget requests for the clinic.”

Andrew chuckles, “And I brought roasted peppers to start as appetizers.”

“Thank you, you shouldn’t have.”

I fake chuckle, “No we really shouldn’t have.” I thrust the dish against Owen’s stomach roughly and he takes it with a groan. I noticed that his right ear is bandaged at the top with gauze due to my handiwork from this afternoon. The sight gives me a sick sort of satisfaction that I keep to myself and Owen clears his throat to converse with Ben instead as we hang our coats.

“Hey, I heard there were some fires down in south Seattle. You been on those?”

“Uh, no, no, no. Uh, we have a little girl now, so I sit the crazy stuff out.”

Teddy laughs, “That never stopped Owen.” I grin slightly at his wife also giving him a hard time.

Owen looks peeved but grins, “Ah, please excuse her. She's exhausted after one day of the job that you and I did for years.”

“And how did that work out for you career wise?” I ask venomously with Andrew clicking his tongue no doubt feeling awkward.

Teddy purses her lips but keeps being the host, “Wine?”

“Uh, by wine, can you mean bourbon?” Bailey asks.

“Good idea.” Owen and Teddy walk to the kitchen and we follow.

“Cheese and crackers are on the coffee table.” Altman informs us.

“Oh, fantastic.” Ben says, “I'd love a bite.” I snort at his use of that word causing Bailey to smack us both on the arm telling us to knock it off. I keep a straight face as I enter into the belly of the beast.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tension is still in the air even as we sit comfortably in the living room waiting for the chicken to come out of the oven. We’re sitting on the couch next to Warren and Bailey with Owen and Teddy sitting across from each other in the armchairs. We’re talking about the challenges of parenthood and I try as hard as I can to keep the biting incident to myself even as I talk about what raising a baby has been like for us so far.

“I feel like a cow.” Andrew chuckles at that, “Oh you think it’s funny I’m a baby’s own personal soda fountain? Be glad you got the Y chromosome buddy because your body is still the same and you don’t have hormones to mess your mind up as well.”

“Well, I have bipolar disorder so I know a thing or two about adjusting bodies and messed up minds.”

“He’s got you there DeLuca.” Hunt tells me.

“Yeah, you don’t give an opinion here.” I snap and Hunt frowns at that as I continue, “You two ladies have already done this how long is it gonna take before my boobs come back to normal.”

“Never.” They both answer in unison.

I whimper at that, “I mean don’t get me wrong she’s my daughter, I love her and I’m glad I had her. I just really miss my perfect boxing body.”

“Hey, come on you still have it.” My husband holds my hand in comfort that I appreciate.

“How is Lucy doing anyway?” My mood turns sour at Hunt’s question, “Is she with a babysitter?”

I glare at Hunt who looks uncomfortable at my obvious disdain that Andrew notices and decides to intervene with an answer, “Um no, my sister is living with us while she and her wife are separated. She’s watching Lucy right now. I think she’s trying to fill the void of having an estranged wife with being an aunt. I mean don’t get me wrong I’m glad she’s helping I just didn’t expect to raise my baby with my wife and sister. Which now that I say it out loud is wrong and incestuous.”

“Well hey I grew up in a hell house I wish I had a hot, cool aunt to spend time with me.”

Andrew looks at me with a raised eyebrow, “Hot?”

I roll my eyes, “Come on your sister is a knockout I’m not gonna deny what’s obvious. Will I do anything? Hell no. I just think it’s nice for my daughter to have what I didn’t, someone by her side. I mean God knows there are kids in this life that are gonna attack her and make her feel less worthy than she is because those kids are either dicks or their parents are.” I turn to Hunt so he knows what I’m talking about, “Isn’t that right Hunt?”

Hunt sips his bourbon with a frown as the others sit around awkwardly after I called out the elephant in the room, “Well I’m still a little woozy from the blood loss due to my ear being pinched through so what do I know?”

“Not much as it’s been shown recently.” I grin maliciously with Andrew next to me tapping his fingers against my thigh clearly uncomfortable.

Teddy chuckles awkwardly, “Yep I definitely should have brought more wine.”

Bailey speaks up, “Okay people we are here to have dinner as friends and as coworkers but as of late some things have happened that have caused both of your families to be in the middle of a slight conflict. We need to clear the air and get it all sorted and get it out there before the oven dings because I for one am in the mood for a night without children present.”

“Absolutely, I completely agree.” Andrew nods looking at me as I stare at the coffee table for a moment before nodding, “Okay so how should we start?”

Bailey clears her throat and turns to her husband, “Ben do you want to be mediator?”

Ben coughs out his bourbon he was sipping and looks at Bailey surprised, “Me?”

“Yes you.” Bailey confirms with a ‘duh’ tone, “Diane trained you to talk to people through much more dire situations than this didn’t she?”

“She did and conflict resolution was a part of the Crisis One training.”

“Well there you go so…” Bailey motions to the four of us and Ben looks around awkwardly before starting.

“Um well you four have known each other for years and you respect each other and even consider yourselves friends so let’s remind you of that. Amber?” I look at Ben who speaks in a mediator tone, “You always say that your grateful to Hunt and Altman for saving DeLuca’s life that day because you would not have married him and had a beautiful baby girl with him if they did any less.”

I remember that day clearly as it was one of the worst days of my life. We were broken up at the time but it didn’t change how I felt about him it just changed how I viewed him. I felt terror and anxiety when I got that call and waited for five agonizing hours while he was in the O.R. when they came to me and told me he made it I felt like singing hallelujah! I am extremely grateful to them as Bailey reminded me and my resentment lessens just a tiny bit.

“…Yeah, I might have said that a time or two.” I admit.

“And we all know your not a flatterer and don’t kiss up to attendings like normal residents.” Andrew smirks at that as Ben continues, “So can we assume that came from the heart?”

I press my lips together as I admit once more, “It did.” Hunt looks at me grateful for that.

“And Hunt.” Ben turns to Owen, “You’ve expressed on more than one occasion that DeLuca when she was She-Karev was one the most promising and intelligent residents you’ve seen in her class?”

“Well there wasn’t a doubt about it.” I look at him touched, “And I’m not just saying that because Glasses was also in her class.” We chuckle at that memory.

“Okay good there we go.” Ben grins and pours more bourbon telling us he’s done to my surprise.

“That’s it?” Bailey asks and Ben looks up at us.

“We kind of thought you were just getting started.” I explain with a chuckle.

Ben shrugs, “Well Miranda wanted this spat resolved before the oven dings so I decided to rush it and besides it seems like you both got your digs in so your even.”

Teddy hmm’s, “Okay so I guess you skipped the conflict resolution part of your training. And besides Allison is three she didn’t know what she was doing biting happens. I was gonna have my husband talk to her and make sure this doesn’t happen again but as of late he’s skimmed on his adult responsibilities.”

I scoff, “The way you bite your husbands head off I can see where she would get the habit from.”

Teddy sighs, “Amber, I apologize for what Allison did and I promise you I will try to keep this from happening again.”

Andrew steps in surprising me, “Mmm that’s what you said last time and I have a feeling you were too busy hating your husband to do something about your problem child.”

Teddy stops sipping her wine to look at him offended, “What did you just call my daughter?”

“A problem child.” Andrew repeats this time sternly, “A child who is difficult to control and discipline and your kid fits that description after she bit both of our daughters. Twice.” Teddy scoffs at the insult, “Am I saying things that aren’t true or did someone else sink her little teeth into our five-month-old baby? Have our frustrations not been clear?”

“Well, your wife made her frustrations clear when she almost tore my husband’s ear off.”

“Are you jealous I did it before you could?” I coldly ask Altman who widens her eyes and I turn to Hunt to vent as well, “And you know what Hunt? You didn’t give me much choice when you weren’t willing to have an adult conversation but I guess you’d have to be an adult to do that instead of acting like a child.”

“Oh, I’m a child?” Hunt asks frustrated, “You called my daughter a devil spawn and brat does that sound like being an adult DeLuca?”

“You what?!” Teddy exclaims in shock and I turn to her ready to tear her down.

“Because she was being a brat and devil spawn!” Teddy’s mouth gapes at my brutal honesty as I continue, “How do you expect me to react when your child attacked mine?!”

“Okay people let’s calm down please.” Bailey tries to mediate but it falls on deaf ears as we’re too busy fighting.

“We apologized DeLuca you don’t want it to hear it and accept it that is on you.” Hunt coldly tells me.

“Your gonna lecture her on accountability? Really?”  Andrew asks mockingly, “You bitch every hour and every day to your wife about how you lost your job after you committed murder! You think you have the high ground when it comes to taking responsibility really?”

“That wasn’t murder!” Hunt explains in anger and I roll my eyes at him ranting again, “I did what I did to give soldiers who were denied proper medical care after serving their country and getting sick as a result the chance at a dignified death instead of slowly dying in pain in a hospital bed and leaving their families with more debt! Do you want me to be sorry for that?”

I hit a breaking point as I slap the coffee table in anger, “OH MY GOD! I…” I take a deep inhale to control myself, “You have not said one thing that none of us in this room or the hospital don’t already know Hunt so listen with your good ear when I tell you to shut up!”

Teddy speaks up, “Amber, watch the tone you use with my husband because as mad as I am at him-”

“You shut up too!” Teddy quiets and looks shocked at me turning on her now, “You’ve been bitching at him nonstop since the day you guys came back and believe me it hasn’t been easy.”

“Well, you know what I am sorry that I am angry DeLuca!” Teddy yells, “Our lawyers bankrupted us because of my husband so I am sorry if that can make a woman lash out at her idiot of a husband!”

“Oh, just say it again Teddy!” Owen yells after that insult.

I scoff at this display with DeLuca stepping in angry as well, “No Altman what you and Hunt should be sorry for is for turning into a couple of toxic, self-absorbed, rage consumed assholes that none of us can even stand to be around anymore!”

I clap in solidarity, “Preach it honey!”

Ben clears his throat as he and his wife listen clearly uncomfortable, “Okay you guys come on let’s just-”

“I mean at this point with you two fighting nonstop Allison is gonna spend a decade on a therapists couch wondering why she can’t form a healthy relationship and that will be because of you two.” Andrew scoffs and continues, “I mean is it any wonder with parents like you two why your kid is so screwed up?”

Altman sips her wine before narrowing her eyes at us, “Oh and you two want to talk about screwed up kids? I mean how do you think Lucy will feel when she finds out what genes she’s inheriting from both of your sides? Or how her daddy went insane in front of the whole surgical floor?”

“Excuse me!” Andrew bellows out next to me and I react quickly. I stood up and grabbed the glass of wine right out of her hand to throw it in her face in pure rage causing her to gasp. I’m too busy tearing Altman down to see the others’ reactions but I can guess their shocked.

“Amber!” Owen admonishes me but I ignore it.

I put the glass down the coffee table with a hard clink and point a finger at her as she processes being doused in white wine, “You will never, NEVER! Talk about my family like that or so help me Altman I will destroy you! My husband has bipolar disorder and he works hard to treat it. Yeah, he made mistakes but he tried to save a child from a human trafficker while you let the whole hospital hear you whoring yourself to a neurosurgeon while you were engaged.” Altman looks at me shocked but stays quiet, “And yeah, I’m screwed up, I’m a product of my upbringing. I’m a bitch, I acknowledge that. I had to be a bitch to survive my life growing up. A crazy mom, crazy brother, foster care, private high school I have had to be a bitch to survive all of that but now I am not a bitch for the sake of surviving anymore, now I am a bitch for the sake of my family. I know that and I am proud of that and do not apologize for how I reacted at your husband when your little brat bit my baby and when you just shamed my husband for his mental illness. And you know Altman you can judge all you want but I would rather be a protective bitch than-”

Owen tries to stop me again, “Thin ice here Amber very thin!”

I ignore him again so I can continue, “I would rather be a protective bitch than a sad, angry, pathetic drunk stuck in a dead marriage who was second choice for chief and third choice for a wife!” Altman is stunned in silence at my rant with tears glistening in her eyes that don’t incite pity in me. I turn to Andrew who is still sitting there with a blank face clearly agreeing with my rant as he didn’t step in at all. I notice Hunt barely spoke up confirming my points of her deteriorating marriage as he didn’t try to stop me while I was attacking his wife, “We’re leaving.” Andrew nods and stands up to follow me as we get our dish and coats so we can leave the house with our heads held high after the dumpster fire blew up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We sat in the car in silence with the engine off trying to reel from the events of five minutes ago.  I exhale as my nerves die down from giving Hunt and Altman a piece of my mind. I can sense Andrew also trying to mentally recover from the dinner that never was. He’s in the driver’s seat rubbing his temples before speaking first.

“Well, that was fun.”

I chuckle lightly, “Yeah I think I really won the new chief over with that wine to her face.”

“It was a very iconic drink to the face moment.” Andrew grins and holds my hand, “How bad do you think it’s gonna be tomorrow?”

I groan at that reminder that we have to work with them tomorrow, “How about we take Lucy, get on a plane and live out the rest of our days in Bora Bora? We can run a clinic there and never have to worry about crazy white people ever again.”

Andrew laughs at that suggestion, “That would be nice but I’m pretty sure your brother and my sister would kill us for leaving them to deal with the Hunt’s who will take their frustrations on us out on them.” He leans over to kiss me in comfort, “We’ll be okay babe. I mean we’ve handled a lot worse than an angry chief. We can survive anything as long as we’re together. That’s the advantage we have over Hunt and Altman and we can handle anything they dish out at us.”

I look at him in awe over his ability to ease my worries even after I insulted the chief in her own home. I cradle his face brushing my thumb across his stubbly cheek, “I love you.”

He grabs my hand from his cheek and turns his face to kiss my palm, “I love you.” He turns to the road and starts the engine, “Are you ready for a night of Moana with Lucy while she drinks breastmilk again?”

I grin at that before an idea comes to me, “Actually can we make a stop.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door opens revealing Alex inside the house in his casual wear surprised to see us on the other side of the door holding the peppers we were originally going to eat at the Hunts. I grin at him and see Jo approaching the door holding Luna also looking at us surprised.

“Hey guys.”

“Hi.” Alex looks at the dish I’m holding and back at me, “Is there a reason you guys came to my house at 11 and brought a plate of peppers?”

Andrew tsks, “It’s a long story but basically, we need a night to hang out with adult friends and no children present. The last ones we were with were…less than welcoming.” Alex raises an eyebrow, “We’ll explain more, can we come in and eat this dish with you guys? We kind of have to fill the time somehow and your our best option.”

Jo steps forward, “Who are we to turn down free food? Come in, let’s talk in the kitchen.” I thank Jo as we entered their house feeling safer here than we did at the Hunt’s.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And then I called her a sad, pathetic drunk who was chosen second for chief and third for wife. And then we left.” I finish telling the story as we sit around the dining room table eating the peppers with French bread and red wine that I’m not drinking opting for mineral water. We got to eating and talking once Jo put Luna down to sleep in her room. Jo and Alex look shocked at my last insult as they chew the food.

“Wow I wish I could’ve seen that.” Jo says, “So her exact words were Lucy might get the crazy gene since her dad went insane? She said that?”

“Yep.” Andrew confirms bitter as he sips his wine, “I was there and so were Ben and Bailey, you can ask them and they’ll say the same thing.”

Alex shakes his head at that clearly as mad as I was, “Now I kind of wish I took the chief job, then you wouldn’t be in danger of getting abused or fired.”

I shake my head at that, “Well to be fair how would you have known your sister was gonna go all ballistic on the chief of cardio after she insulted my family?”

“I think you let her off easy after what she said.” Jo says and I realize as a person who suffers bouts of depression she also feels triggered by Teddy’s comment like Andrew. I look at them in sympathy and decide to point out what me and Alex already know.

“You know neither of you are insane right?” I tell my husband and sister-in-law who look surprised by my change of subject, “You had mental health problems but you faced them and you’re better. It doesn’t make you weak if anything it makes you stronger.”

Alex nods holding Jo’s hand and looking at her with love and support, “Damn straight. Altman wouldn’t know how to face her problems if it bit her in the ass. Don’t listen to what she said and don’t believe it.”

Jo scoffs offended, “Well it was a new low of hers and that is saying something. It makes me wish I was there when you threw that drink in her face. I wish you recorded it.”

“It was very iconic it was like a fight at my family reunion.” Andrew says with a grin and I lightly push him, “Are you sure you’re not Italian?”

“Only by marriage.” I shove a whole slice of bread with a pepper in my mouth moaning in satisfaction at the taste and texture, “They really did not deserve these peppers.”

“Nope, not one bit.” Alex agrees with his mouth full, “It kind of makes me wish I married into an Italian family.”

Jo nods taking a bite of the bread, “Me too. So, what’s the plan after tonight? Are you gonna ask Avery for a face transformation or are you gonna take a really extended vacation?”

I sigh and remember what my husband said to me, “I don’t know but we will figure it out together. Besides what is she gonna do fire us? I’ll just go over her head and gang up on her with my attending brother, sister and husband.” They look at me amused, “It’s the one time I would use nepotism in my favor.” I hold up my water for them to clink their wine glasses against it as we enjoy this impromptu dinner party of ours.

[thebestbobaflavour]

one tries to fly away

and the other

…

another dragon age drabble! this one is super simple but i liked it enough to make it a part of my experimental publishings pairings: handers (f!hawke & anders) tags: hurt, angst

…

After the unspoken, Anders had become even more fragile; like those birds of glass nobility had on their shelves to fill out the emptiness of their lives – cracks all over, only waiting for the last impact that would destroy him for good – and Hawke treated him as such. 

She found reasons to loom nearby but not quite present, as if afraid that a mere glance would set him off. Some days she found him muttering something from under his breath, and then his hands would shake even though he tried to hide it. Hawke waited, conscience ripping a hole in her throat from the inside every time she cast a fond look over the man she so ardently loved. They had slain many enemies together, side by side; every little movement somehow – almost magically – mirroring and covering for each other like in a ballroom dance they both notoriously hated.

But where Hawke remained a champion, her lover had become a terrorist. It gnawed at her, day and night, the decision to remain by his side. Varric had pulled her aside back then, telling her he wished blondie the best, but this is where he drew the line – where Hawke should, too. But she couldn't. Nothing would matter to her, all those lives she saved weighed nothing if she couldn't save those she loved. Now that all was calm again for a fleeting moment, she felt worse than she had ever since she set foot in Kirkwall. Her friend had shook his head, but left her be:

“Some lessons you just need to learn for yourself.”

All those days getting to know the meaning of exile, she spent knowing she loved him, yet being unable to feel anything but fear and disgust of what had come to pass. Every time he moved, the very air felt sizzling with temporary satisfaction of Vengeance. It was like sharing a home with a demon, not a man at all. The base they had made into a cosy little cave somewhere along The Wounded Coast was hardly what she had grown accustomed to in the High City, but she wouldn't complain. She had known, ever since she pledged her love to Anders, that there was no other option for her than to stay with him. Whatever it would take.

A month had passed, while Merrill still lived with them along with Bethany and Fenris visiting where they could. Not once did the Champion leave her lover unattended, and Anders submitted to that. Every moment of his existence seemed to be tainted with a certain sense of tranquillity of someone who had come to terms with knowing they lived on borrowed time. She knew how much it had terrified him, the way Vengeance so seamlessly blended into his personality to the point where no one could be sure how much he had had to do with the whole destruction. But then the worst had happened, and there was nothing to be afraid of, not for him. What was done couldn't be undone. 

Hawke was afraid of it, though. She believed – or at least desperately wanted to – that Anders would never have done that if it was only him. To her dread the mage claimed from day one that she was wrong; it was them both just working towards a common goal. Now that their freedom was written on the walls with blood, Anders did not, however, share Vengeance’s satisfaction over those deaths. 

One night, after Merrill had moved back into her own Clan, Hawke sat on her bedroll and wrote. A year ago she would have laughed at the idea of keeping a diary, but once your head is a big enough mess the only way to start making sense is to materialise those thoughts into words. She was no Varric, but she had to try. Try to spell out the cries of your subconsciousness, then perhaps rip out the page and burn it, so that only the writer or the Maker could know about it. A prayer of the unbeliever –  a letter that would go unanswered – sealed with smoke and the smell of ink on the side of one’s palm. It had been one of those nights where tears were so close that her nose started running and breath hitched, and that was when she pulled out the journal.

Its empty pages shimmered mockingly, untouched and pure, until they’d be stained by regrets and spelling errors, but also bitterness and sorrow so many authors could only ever dream of knowing. After writing a few pitiful sentences about how Fenris had brought them to the cave, given them supplies and offered her a room in his mansion so that she would not need to be here, she hardly felt any better. 

“... 

He has been so helpful. I need to return the favor somehow.”

Fingers around the pen started to sweat, but Hawke found herself getting lost in the flowing of the ink.

“Now Fenris hasn’t been here in a week. When we last spoke, there was tenderness in his eyes that only me and Isabela were entitled to see. In a way he had lost both of us. I turned him down – a mistake? He said Anders didn't deserve me and I was a fool to do this. So many people have told me that already that I have started to really let it get to me by now.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, and her eyes stole a habitual little glance of Anders. He whittled a piece of driftwood, occasionally stopping to examine the light dancing on the blade of his knife. Hawke shuddered.

“So now I am here, being haunted by the living ghost of a man I love. I have avoided him, but kept him constantly within my sight, if that makes any sense. Hoping there’d be a way to just undo everything if I only willed hard enough. I don't know how to start unravelling it all; perhaps I had never truly known him – perhaps he had lied about everything else as well. If so, I would happily be known as a fool. But I do love him. That's the whole reason I am writing this.

Over the first two weeks, I didn't even catch his eyes – he kept them glued to the ground. At night I lay awake, watching as slivers of the Fade run across his temples. This sounds corny, but he is still so beautiful. And in the morning we sat in silence, listening to the distant waves crashing relentlessly onto the rocks. And kind of like the water, slowly and patiently, my affection started washing over him, carving new rivers in search of his heart. He has done nothing but waited, been helpful, silent and alert, but never pushed me in any way. Almost as if he was afraid of me leaving him as soon as he noticed my presence. I don't have any idea what that means for us. For anything. 

And like the current, it took ages for the situation to change. At least it felt like it. 

He was like a rock, and I steadfast as the river. It started with stolen glances, my fingers brushing against his hand as I handed him a bowl, a little approving hum as he brought firewood. It unearthed unpredictable reactions from him, but no words. Almost as if-”

“Maude?”

Hawke’s pen made a long, ugly stroke across the lower page, as she jerked her body up, brushing back her hair with her hand. The pen tip then traced a stripe on her cheek, too.

Anders sat propped against the wall, his hands loosely resting upon his lap, but brown eyes carefully caressing the rogue’s silhouette in the dim cave. She closed the book, smearing the ink on her skin by trying to wipe it off. 

“Yes?” she finally replied, as if she wasn't sure if she had imagined his voice and her name; no one ever used it, not since her mother had died. Gosh, that felt like such a long time ago.

“Could you come here for a moment?”

Following his soft voice – raspy from all the weeks of not using – The Champion heeded, afraid of what was to come. Her fear confused her until she realised: she didn't trust him. Instead she merely waited for another stab in the back, to add to the pile of her idiocy – another told-you-so from Varric and venomous scoff from Fenris. In his right hand the mage fiddled with a little white flame, watching it lick his fingers and knuckles like an obedient hound. Hawke sat beside him and followed it with her eyes, until his fist closed around the light. She flinched slightly, but remained quiet, studying him carefully. There was an old trail of scars across his forearm, one that the rogue used to trace with her fingers after Anders had already fallen asleep. It reminded him, he had said, of the importance of patience when befriending a feral cat. Long-built trust, broken in the blink of an eye. But like that cat, she eventually did bring herself back to his side in search of security and friendship it had already grown to yearn for; only this time it knew to be afraid of the lifted hand, however well-meaning it might be. Whether such things could ever truly be mended, only time would tell.

[sitp-recs]

hello! I love your recs so much, and have found some of my most favorite drarry fics and characterizations through your lists :)

I think I want to write my first drarry fic and it will include them as parents (of scorp and teddy) but I haven’t read any next gen canon (bc jkr avoidance) and have only occasionally encountered scorp and teddy in fic.

I’m wondering if you have any recommendations for fic that you think do a great job with the characterizations of Scorpius and Teddy so I can do them justice without checking out the source material!! In what I want to write they’ll be early hogwarts age so like 11-14 or 15, but I’d also love to read them at other ages that will help me get a strong sense of who they are. Thank you so so much!!!

Hi anon! How exciting, I’m so happy that you’re getting ready to start your own fic! I hope you have lots of fun writing it. I admit that I haven’t read many kid fics (especially with little kids) but I do love Scorpius and Teddy as characters, so I’m sharing below some of my favourite characterizations in fic. Good luck with your fic, can’t wait to read it!

Kid/Teenager:

Dragon Wings and Flying Things by rillalicious (NR, 6k)

The Annual Broom Race of Sweden is headed through the Swedish Short-Snout dragon reservation. Charlie has arranged for Harry to bring Teddy. In the midst of all the excitement, Harry finds out that one of the most famous Dragonologists in recent history is someone very familiar.

A Hippogriff for Christmas by @xanthippe74 (G, 6.4k)

Draco is desperately trying to fulfill four-year-old Scorpius’ dearest wish for Christmas: a visit with a real Hippogriff. Harry is desperately trying to be left alone, safely tucked away from the attention of the wizarding world as Hogwarts’ Keeper of the Keys and Grounds. It might take more than a father’s persistence to convince Harry to help make Scorpius’ Christmas dream come true.

Our Ordinary Days by Lomonaaeren (M, 8.4k)

Two men, both fathers of sons, meet in a bookshop. And the rest is the kind of history that doesn't make history.

Little Talks by Femme and noeon (E, 11k)

Draco's been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he's sure it's just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one.

The Strongest Affinity by eidheann (T, 17k)

Trouble finding a wand for Scorpius leads Harry and Draco to something they never imagined.

The Stars Above Us by 606, create_serenity (M, 19k)

It started as an innocent day out taking Teddy to visit the local observatory. Somehow it became so much more.

Young adult (Teddy):

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

[mel-0n-earth]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Oh goodness, I'm not very good at these, but I've also been bullying myself a lot lately, so maybe the timing on this is just right and I should give it a shot.

I'll try my best to put things in actual order. Here we go:

5. To Fix Their Hearts - This is a little Dammon x Tav oneshot I did to try my hand at writing from a trans perspective. It's not much, but my writing feels pretty tight (not too much fluff or "leftovers" that should've been edited out) and re-reading it gives me warm fuzzies every time, so it definitely makes the list.

4. Fear Me, Love Me, Do as I Say - Durgetash trash that I wrote after finishing the book A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G. Summers and the movie Bones and All. I wanted to write something with really gooey, indulgent prose and a lot of violent but romantic imagery. There are a few bits I probably should have cut in editing, but overall I think I hit my target here.

3. The Devil You Know - This was the first time I wrote something and went "woah, I might actually be good at this" because the response was so overwhelmingly positive. It was just going to be a little oneshot to scratch an itch, but turned out to be way more than that. Idk, this is just another sweet little story that will always have a special place in my heart.

2. Sunshine from Out of the Blue - The story that got me through COVID lockdown and studying for doctoral exams. I reread this recently during a writing rut, and while I wish desperately I could just scrap and completely rewrite some of the earlier chapters, I was pleasantly surprised by how things improved as the story went on. I grew a lot as a person and writer while working on this. For that reason alone, I'm very proud of it.

1. Phantom - This is an ongoing Solavellan story that hasn't gotten nearly as much engagement as I originally hoped it would, but I can't bring myself to care too much. Dragon Age and Phantom of the Opera are my two biggest obsessions/fixations, and smushing those two things together has proved a very difficult task. Still, I've been working on this story for a long time, and some of my favorite bits have yet to go live. Certain sections near the end bring up a lot of complex emotions for me. It's difficult to describe. This one just means a lot to me. I hope people will still be reading by time those bits go up, as I think they're some of the better pieces of writing I've created yet.

Thanks so much for passing this along!

[envihellbender]

Anders realising he’s forgotten his own birth name with joy and sadness

Characters: Fenris, Anders

Fandom: Dragon Age (2, specifically)

Content: fenders, angst, hurt comfort

“It’s strange," Fenris admitted. “I suppose killing Danarius was good in some ways but… Leto. Is that me? That’s what she called me. My…” His voice trailed off and his cheeks burned, he hated calling Varania ‘sister’. It created a hole in his chest and stomach. He hated speaking of her at all. It had been two weeks since Danarius was killed, and as Fenris did most say he was sat in Anders’ watching whilst he worked. As well as adding much needed muscle if the Templars decided to show up.

“Do you want to go back to being Leto?” Anders asked. He had paused mixing a healing potion specifically to turn to Fenris, he watched him sadly wishing he could help more. He looked so small and alone perched on the medical cot in the tiny clinic.

“I don’t know. I- it’s not me any more. I suppose it’s- someone else entirely. It’s not a name I can claim ownership over, I don’t think,” Fenris said carefully. “Does that make sense?”

“I mean, sure. Getting a name you connect with from your oppressor is hard. I- Anders… it’s a name the Templars gave me,” Anders said with a frown. “They couldn’t pronounce my birthname and I refused to say it. Because why would I give them that?”

“Why Anders?” Fenris asked.

“They took me from the Anderfels originally, they brought me over to Fereldan because… I don’t know. I spoke a little Common but not enough for me to understand their rapid, quiet way of speaking. They called me ‘the Anders g-’” Anders stopped himself. “The Anders child. Got shortened to Anders. And the name stuck. It’s a masculine name back in the Anderfels, you know? Bit like John in Fereldan in how common it is. That made be happy before I understood why.”

“I suppose I must be lucky, I can’t remember ever being called Leto. Fenris is… my slave name but all I know. I don’t have the pain associated with it like you do.” Fenris let out a sigh, a long exhale of breath that relaxed his body.

“I- yes, I-” Anders hesitated for a moment. He stared at Fenris and his brow furrowed, he desperately searched his memories but as hard as he could he couldn’t find it. “I don’t… I don’t remember it.”

“Remember what?” Fenris looked up suddenly, confused and worried at Anders’ sudden distress.

“My… my old name. I don’t-” Anders turned away and began pacing up and down his clinic. “It’s gone.”

“Is that … good?” Fenris asked. He honestly wasn’t sure, he didn’t know how he felt about not knowing his previous self and forgetting something so pivotal was horrific.

“Yes, it is, but no… i don’t know. It’s hard to explain.” Anders sighed and stopped. He turned to Fenris who was watching him intently. He was quiet, truly listening to everything Anders said.

“It’s… my past,” he said anxiously, his eyes watering and his throat growing cry. “It’s me from before the Circle. It gets harder and harder to remember every day. I can’t speak my mother tongue any more, my family’s faces are blurred, and now I don’t even remember my name.” He wrapped his arms around his body and curled in on himself as he began to shake.

“I see. That’s… yes, I see,” Fenris nodded, looking away in thought. After a moment of silence he stood up and stepped towards Anders.

“It’s just another thing the Templars took from me I guess. It’s as if all I am is what they made me-” Anders’ voice was becoming faster and was about to fall into incoherency. Fenris rested a hand on Anders’ bicep and squeezed, grounding him off a moment. He closed the space between them and pressed his forehead into Anders’.

“But you’re not. You left, you became a Grey Warden, you then became a healer here. You are far, far more than what they made you. Far more,” Fenris said assertively, his hands falling to Anders’ hips. “You’re my amatus. My love. My everything. And nothing I fell in love with belongs to the Templars.”

[invinciblerodent]

13, 16, and 17? 🥺

Veilguard hype asks!!!

13. What's one thing you've seen confirmed so far that you're a fan of?

One thing? Oh, that's very hard to pick. Is it a cop-out if I say the characters? Because if it is, I think I'll have to go with griffons being canonically and unambiguously back in Thedas.

I loved "Last Flight" when I originally read it (many years ago), I will 100% say that it's one of the better ones of all the Dragon Age novels (it might be noted that Last Flight and The Masked Empire are my favorites- it's unclear if that's because they're actually that good, or because I just hate Gaider's style of prose that much lol), but it's been ten years since the publication, so I was thinking that it might kinda just get handwaved away. But, I'm very happy to have very clear and canon, in-game confirmation in Assan that that novel is canon, and that griffons are not extinct.

I think that novel is set in 9:41, so the same year that Inquisition starts in, which (unless griffons mature very fast and there have been multiple clutches since, which I doubt) I believe makes Assan one of Crookytail's babies, and roughly 8-9 years old... which, if true, would honestly make Davrin a pretty important/high-ranking Warden. I don't really know how many Wardens are in Weisshaupt at any given time (gonna guess more than 13 lol), but one would think that if there are only 13 healthy griffon hatchlings to go around (or fewer, we don't know what happened in the ~10 years since), one would have to be a pretty big deal to get one assigned to them to raise and care for.

Davrin confirmed as the best dog-lion-eagle dad in all the realms. ❤️ Sometimes a family is you, your Warden spouse, and the gigantic winged beast who takes up a good three quarters of any bed.

(oh god, can you imagine trying to banish an adolescent griffon from the room. can you imagine the poor thing scratching WELTS into the door with those talons as he's crying desperately to be let in; his little voice, the heartrending cry of a rusted door-hinge. am I willing to put up with that just for Warden dick? ....... yes. yes I am.)

16. What's one crack theory you subscribe to (yours or someone else's)?

Well, I've kind of had this theory (which is in no way substantiated by anything, mind you) that... okay, hear me out.

There are 7 (or 8) Old Gods of Tevinter, and after five Blights, only Razikale and Lusacan have yet to be "corrupted" by the darkspawn Taint.

We saw two figures who are implied to be members of the Evanuris emerge from beyond the Veil in the gameplay trailer.

We also (very likely) still have Urthemiel's soul in play, with Solas having consumed Flemeth/Mythal's "essence" after she had already extracted the Old God Soul from Kieran, IF he exists and was conceived via Morrigan's ritual.

I don't know if anyone theorizes that the old Tevinter gods and the Evanuris have any overlap between them (which is... kind of possible, they did hint that there was an 8th Old God struck from the records which makes their numbers sans Fen'harel line up), but with the presence of the Wardens in Veilguard, there is a tiny niggling part of me that kind of hopes part of the plot will be to do the exact opposite of what Clarel had intended to do in Inquisition, and hunt down the uncorrupted Old Gods so that they can aid in the fight against the Evanuris, if they aren't one and the same.

I'm not going to descend into trying to theorize about potential outcomes and implications and all that, but there is a part of me that is very tickled by the thought of a "god"-on-"god" fight.

Aaaaaand as much as Ray was deeply pissed off and feeling utterly betrayed by Solas, and much as he vowed to stop him at all costs, I, as a player, do think that there have been heavy enough implications that we'll be forced to work alongside Solas, which sounds quite interesting.

Like... "I have no wish to be the villain in one of your stories"? Gee, Solas, that couldn't be some foreshadowing that you're doing, could it....?

Anyway, that's just me tho. I don't know if this counts as a crack theory or if it's a legitimate one, I have looked only little bits into the lore besides playing the games and reading the comics and the novels, but, y'know. All very curious, lol.

17. Are you interested in all the lore and speculation or do you focus more on the games and stories themselves?

And this is a funny question to answer right after the previous one, but in all honesty, I do try to not get into a lot of theorizing about the plot, and the lore, and what's going to happen. What I think about, I'm not at all attached to- really, I prefer to regard the stories as they come, as they are, changes and all, and not, you know, create elaborate headcanons that I then can't pivot from on a dime.

I've always been more interested in the small, interpersonal stories of RPGs, rather than the Big Sweeping Adventure plots. I've always loved a hero that's just an everyman, forced into a situation that's way beyond their pay grade, and just coping with it and rolling with the punches the best they can. So at the end of the day, I really just want to take the story as it comes, and play with my little toys in my favorite sandbox again. ❤️

[enbyleighlines]

Leigh plays Tellius prt 28

Okay, continuing where we left off! The end of the bridge map. This time I DID look up where the holes are, and yet somehow ended up falling into more than one of them. Ugh.

Anyway, I always found this comment from Tanith so delightfully hypocritical. I won't say why because of spoilers, but yeah. This comment just ages so poorly. Honestly, even without (spoilers), it's still just a rude thing to say. I do like you Tanith, but you have no self-awareness at all.

Uh-oh, there's trouble brewing in the polycule.

In all honesty, despite the blood pact being just a little too convenient of a plot devise, I do love this scene. Pelleas is in such a rough situation here, so I understand his desperation, but at the same time, I do not blame Sothe for wanting to get the hell out of dodge.

And this is why you always read the fine print, Pelleas. Though, I'm not sure if the terms of the Blood Pact are visible. Did Lekain use some magic invisible ink or something? Because I feel like, as gullible as Pelleas is, he at least read a sentence or two, right?

Okay, here we go. I'm finally able to talk about the parallels between Naesala and Ashnard. According to this story Lekain tells Pelleas, Naesala came into power very much the same way Ashnard did. Except, we are given no reason to believe that Naesala is the one who tricked the previous King of Kilvas into signing the blood pact, and instead was thrust into the position after many of his relatives died from some mysterious plague. (Although, didn't someone say that the laguz choose their kings by strength rather than by bloodline? Or does that only apply to the beast and hawk tribes? The dragon tribe, at the very least, goes by bloodline.)

Anyway, I wonder if this story is what inspired Ashnard's plot. But then again, how would he have known about this incident? It doesn't seem like common knowledge. (Unless Sephiran gave him the idea...)

Whatever the case, I do feel for Naesala a lot. Like Elincia, he probably had no plans for inheriting the throne. Maybe he didn't even want the job. But when it came time, he nevertheless took up the mantle and devoted himself to the people of Kilvas.

Look at this clusterfuck. Luckily, this map wasn't nearly as difficult as I thought it would be, but man, it was a slog to get through. It's so hard to maneuver my units where I want them in this narrow space, especially with a bunch of unpredictable ally units rushing around. I could have given them the command to just stay still, but I honestly needed their help to whittle down the numbers. Sothe was able to dodge most attacks, and Aran was defensive enough to survive being attacked multiple times, but neither of them could really do a whole lot of damage in return.

This was such a smart move on Ike's part. (Although, I am assuming that the initial idea came from Soren.) Yes, it was a cruel trick, but this is war, and besides, Micaiah had her soldiers pouring oil down on Sanaki's Holy Knights with the intent to set them on fire. So, you know, desperate times call for desperate measures.

I feel you, Ike.

And that's it for this part. I'm getting so close to the endgame of part 3, and it's making me nervous. I desperately want to unlock all that good extra content.

Wish me luck!!

[glagger-true]

Howdy, dear reader! I'm your host, Glagger, and today I'm here to bring you the first post in my medal analysis series for the visual novel Password by Grizz.

In this series I'll be discussing every medal in game. Talking about their signs and their important metaphorical meanings to the tale and main cast. And how their significance enriches both.

Before we can start properly, I would like to make it clear that this post has SPOILERS FOR THE NOVEL. So please, if you haven't read the novel yet and don't want to be spoiled, leave for now.

Aquarius. The medal of Freedom, Wishes and Inaction:

The first medal we'll discuss is aquarius. Found in all routes, but further developed in Orlando's route, which is the place where its meaning is relevant.

It is found in the middle of the hedge-maze in the hand of a statue. Orlando goes on a brief tangent about how he got lost in his grandfather's castle when he was little and how his father trained him in puzzle solving to build his character and dragon masculinity at a young age after it is found. He also mentions the star sign is an air sign, making it related to freedom.

Aquarius in astrology, is the fixed positive air sign of the zodiac. Meaning it's an inflexible and expressive sign connected to communication.

As a sign, Aquarius is said to be collectivistic and social. Its wish is to always work towards the greater good for everyone through cooperation rather than just what's best for themselves. Since it's and idealistic sign that constantly tries to change the world for the better, Aquarius is known for healing and spreading hope through their intellect and curiosity.

Aquarius is currently ruled by two planets. The old ruler Saturn, that represents tradition, order, structure, and the status quo. And the modern ruler Uranus, that represents innovation, technology, progressiveness, rebelliousness and the destruction of existing structures.

This combination of influences is said to be the what makes Aquarius the stubborn and organized big thinker they are. And also the reason why they despise authority and out-dated social structures so much. Sometimes to the point they forget about family and friendships in their chase for big, collective changes. A trait that makes others think of them as distant in relationships. But the truth is that they are actually very compassionate and empathetic when reminded that big changes start in a small scale.

Aquarius is the rebel and revolutionary, it tries to create something brand new from the traditions and rules it breaks free from.

In Greek myth, the water carrier the Aquarius constellation shows is Ganymede. He's the beautiful young son of Tros, king of Troy. While tending to his father's flocks on Mount Ida, Ganymede was spotted by Zeus, and the king of gods fell in love with him. He then flew down to the mountain in the form of a large bird, kidnapping Ganymede, and turning him into the cupbearer to the gods. Making him a constellation in the heavens.

To astrology, those born under this star sign are energetic and eccentric freedom fighters. Progressive, rebellious, and humanitarian are the main traits Aquarians tend to have. They love fighting for idealistic causes and always attempt to see people without prejudice. They also are usually innovative and spontaneous types who prefer to live life to the fullest. And as such, proudly display their non-traditional tastes and beliefs. They also have a deeply sensitive side that makes appreciation, support, and love, necessities in their lives.

Orlando himself, is a beautiful young man who's heir to a criminal king's heritage. He's an active and spontaneous gentleman that communicates well with others and is an idealist by nature. And is also notoriously inflexible in the love he feels for his toxic family. Being unwilling to change that stance until the circumstances become so extreme he's forced to chose between his friends and them.

He wishes desperately that his world was different, and that he could be free to express himself and his desires despite the expectations of his heritage. But also does nothing to actively change his situation, accepting his fate while simultaneously wishing he could be whisked away from it.

There seems to be an interesting parallel with the idea of a powerful man falling in love with him and taking him to a paradise. Because it reflects not only his own desires, but also how he attempts to make Dean do the same to Dave. He tries getting Dean and Dave together so Dean can whisk Dave away from the mess that is the dragon's life, so Dave can be happy while away from him once he's gone for good.

Despite these adversities, however, the end of his tale in both Paths A and B are marked by rebellion, freedom and the end of tradition. In path B, he directly confronts his father and kills him to protect himself and his friends. He takes over the mantle of crime boss to keep the peace and try to change things from the inside. In path A, he manages to completely restructure the mafia, turning it into an crime-free organization that has each member learn legal ways of work and actively do good to society rather than damage it.

Craig also mentions that Aquarius is the sign that flows unrestrained regardless of the whims of those around it. Like time itself. Which might be the reason why it ended in a maze.

This also relates to Orlando, whose personality and desires flow unrestrained in the maze of complications that is his life. Regardless of the homophobia, cruelty and greediness of his family, Orlando is still gay, emotional, kind and empathetic. Wishing for a future where he can bring happiness to others by giving rather than bringing them pain by taking. He tries to navigate and reach the middle of this "real life emotional maze", hoping the answer to his conflict lies there.

Banner and artwork were both made by Xernok on Discord.

[alphinias]

House of dragons has the problem a lot of other shows from the streaming age have, the truncated episodes make it so that it's really fast but also weirdly really slow at the same time. There's no time for organic character development and relationships and even events. Like how do you see people saying that 10 episodes felt rushed and then go you know what bitch how about 8, we really need to go back to lower budget shows that rely on writing and have 13+ episodes instead of needing everything to be a spectacle with millions spent on cgi and big name actors, I promise you no one cares, if the writing and acting is good that's all the matters and that's how the biggest shows on the planet like breaking bad and stranger things happen.

I 100% agree with you in the fact that we need more lower budget shows that come out more frequently and have more episodes/some filler, but I don’t think hotd is the best example to use. I think if any show is allowed to make us wait a year+ it’s hotd. It has a huge budget, lots of cgi, and an established fan base that justify it. Plus, game of thrones always had shorter seasons, and in all fairness, the bigger battles and bigger cgi stuff for got was mostly in later seasons which we did have to wait longer for as well. I will totally agree I was pissed when hotd got cut down to 8 episodes instead of 10 though. It’s still insane to me.

I think there is room for both types of shows. We just desperately need someone to see the value in making the more lowkey ones again because it’s what I’m really lacking as a consumer. Those shows had the best fandoms ever because it was possible to be active so often.

Back to hotd, I do also generally agree I wish hotd would show us a few more character moments and little things that show us the bond between the riders and the dragons, but I think that’s as much down to distribution of things they choose to focus on as it is as it is the low episode count. Like that cute little sunfyre and Aegon scene in the last episode had everyone going crazy. I love this season, but I would love it more if they would dedicate their time more to things like that, or giving Jace, Baela, etc some scenes instead of just having a hard on for having Alicent sitting around looking sad ALL the time. Her kids are interesting but I have to speak my truth I’m so bored of her lmao.