#island pit viper dragon

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: HELLO, wow. Thank you for all the love as per usual! It makes me giggle and kick my little feet reading your messages ! I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point but this is a DARK FIC, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS. Please do not expect fluff and romance...

Without further adieu, enjoy <3

51: The Return to Kings Landing

You had walked quickly up to Dragonmont, finding Vermithor before mounting him, brushing his bronze scales as you looked about the island, to commit it to your memory. Footsteps of another had interrupted your gazing, as Aemond rounded a cliff and came to stop, looking at you atop the Bronze Fury. 

You could have sworn you saw your husband smirked, but paid no mind to it, commanding the large bronze dragon into the sky to fly back to what you used to call home. Not too long after, the sound of familiar grumble came from behind and your heart had skipped a beat, looking back to see Vhagar and your uncle seated atop.

This time she was not chasing you.

This time she flew with you.

The flight to Kings Landing was not too long of a journey, and you had allowed yourself to silently cry atop the dragon as Dragonstone became smaller, and smaller behind you. It was something you could do alone on your dragon, despite the burning presence of Aemond, who now flew ahead of you.

As King’s Landing came closer, the sun had begun to set, casting a rusty glow across the vast stone structures. Vermithor landed down near the entrance to the Dragon Pit, where Syndor had once waited for you. Letting you slide from his back, your fingers stroked the ropes Jacaerys had put on him before he took off to the skies again, leaving you at the mouth of the cave. 

You let your feet carry you through the pit, walking into the Keep alone. Not waiting for Aemond, and wherever he was, to escort you inside.

If this was to be your home, then you would act like it.

Although, it was odd to be back in truth.

To be back in a place where you had not long ago escaped from. To be back where so much had happened. To willingly walk yourself right back into the vipers nest. To where so many horrors had been witnessed and committed in the name of the crown. 

In the name of the Targaryen legacy.

And whilst you let yourself walk without purpose, you found your feet had led you somewhere you had always sought solace in times of need. 

The Godswood stood tall, and exactly where it had before. Its dark ruby leaves moved gently in the breeze and night began to fall over the realm. Its bark was still rough to the touch as you let your fingers graze over it.

It was the one thing in the Keep that had remained the same.

The one thing that had stayed true.

As you rested your cut palm against the bark, you watched as a small part of coagulated blood pulled away from the skin, causing new blood to flow. The dark, red liquid dripped gently onto the bark of the tree, starkly standing out against the brown of the bark.

You looked at the face of the tree, staring at it as you dug your palm sharply into its surface, feeling the sharp edges of wood dig into the open cut of your hand.

It was grounding, that pain.

Made you focus on one thing, instead of the racing thoughts inside of your head.

Servants walked through the halls and corridors, and passed through the courtyard where you stood. None stopping to greet you, nor stopping to report you. It seemed that they were all aware of the reasoning to your presence, and to your return.

You closed your eyes, praying to the old Gods to hear you. To save you. To take mercy upon you. To forgive you of your sins. Of your wrongdoings. 

To protect you from what was to come. 

And as you prayed, you felt someones gaze upon you, skin prickling with unease. You ignored it and kept on, lips softly moving as you begged for mercy and forgiveness.

“The God’s won’t hear your prayers.” Came the soft voice of your husband.

You balled your hand by your side into a fist as you were pulled from your prayers, attempting to desperately start again.

Please Gods, let me survive thi-

“Come. I will show you to our chambers.” 

Our chambers.

Our.

You let your hand slide from the bark of the tree, taking one last glance at the red leaves above you before you turned to face Aemond. He stood not too far way, in his riding leathers, hands held behind his back and posture stiff. His lips were pulled into a soft smile and it made you nervous. 

Why was he smiling at you like that?

What was wrong with him?

You lifted an unsure foot over the roots, and began to walk down the grass towards him, watching as your husbands smile grew wider. The blood on his lips had mostly gone, from flaking away or perhaps the gentle lapping of his own tongue.

Though the blood on his forehead was untouched. It had dried a darker shade, almost a deep brown like the bark of the tree.

His posture was so similar to how he had been at Storm’s End. Leg lazily jutted out with his arms behind his back. That smile you realised, was most likely a smug one. 

The cat who got the cream. 

The man who finally got the wife he wanted.

“I wish to return to my old chambers.” You spoke, and you watched as Aemond’s head tilted to the side, as he lazily looked you up and down.

“No.” Was all he said before he turned, not waiting for you to follow him. 

You stood unmoving as you watched him leave, feet carrying him swiftly across the grass to the cobblestones. You thought of not following him, and returning to your own chambers. But you did not know if it would be locked or guarded, nor did you know of how he would react. 

Now was not the time to be a steadfast fool. 

And so you let your feet carry you towards him, following the man like a dutiful wife, albeit ten to fifteen paces behind him. Watching his legs work, and his hands that were clutched tightly behind his back. Hands that were now permitted to touch you. Hands that would undoubtedly bring you pain and suffering. 

One hand gripped the others wrist, the cut hand on display as dried blood had begun to settle on his palm and finger tips. You watched it flex and tighten, fingers digging into the cut at random as he continued onwards to his wing of the Red Keep.

You wondered if it would be his chambers, or new ones. If you were to return to the chambers you had been in, not so long ago, makeshift dagger in hand as you plunged it into the soft flesh of his shoulder. You wondered if he would disrobe himself before he took you. If you would get to see with your own eyes the damage you had done to him. 

Not unlike how he would see the scars he had given to you upon your body. Almost too many to count during such a short period of time. He had truly put his mark on you in every way possible. 

Your body.

Your heart. 

Your mind.

Every piece of you now belonged to him.

The castle began to darken from the setting sun, and the torches along the corridor served to light the path ahead. Aemond did not pause, nor did he slow down as he approached his chambers. 

The chambers you had been in before. 

So there was no new chambers for you. Just the haunting memory of the old one. You wondered if it kept him awake at night? Or if he stayed there to serve as a reminder of what you had done to him.

As he approached, a knight pulled open the doors for him, nodding his head to you both. You watched as his silver hair disappeared into the chambers and you slowed your step. You could not make a run for it. You know you couldn’t, but your body wanted to. 

Your mind wished for you to run, to escape the inevitable of what was to come. 

You knew what was expected of you the moment you entered those chambers. Now that you were man and wife, it needed to be consummated. But this did not mean that despite knowing, that you would ever be ready for it. 

You had always thought it would be different.

Perhaps loving and gentle, shared with someone you loved. Perhaps if Aemond hadn’t grown into the man he was now, you would have willingly given it to him. The thought made your heart rise into your throat as you palms began to feel cold and clammy. 

Step after step, you slowly moved forward to seal your doom. 

When you reached the knight at the door, he waited for you to enter, not looking at you, instead looking over your head as though you weren’t even there. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back and held your head high, before swiftly walking into the dark green chambers. 

It was as you had remembered, though this time, brighter. The fire place raged with flames, and candles were lit upon every surface to light the room. Your eyes flitted to the side of the bed, and the passage in which you had snuck through to get him.

It was still there, and he had not blocked, nor barricaded it. 

“You wouldn’t be able to leave that way, if that’s what you are thinking of.” His voice called across the room.

Aemond stood to the side, filling two cups full of spiced wine, not even looking at you. He must have sensed or known that your eyes would flit straight there. As his large hands grasped the wine, he made his way towards you, holding a cup out.

It was almost like an offering of peace.

A treaty.

You timidly grasped the wine from him, and he watched you with a hum, before he pulled his goblet up to his lips and sipped deeply, turning to go sit in an armchair by the fire. You stood where you were, in the middle of the room, near a large round table that was surrounded by six chairs. Books sat atop the table, and one in particular caught your eye. 

Atop the table, in a pile, was your book. 

Faded red cover, golden lettering and all.

How?

“Sit.” Your uncle beckonned, eye not having left the fireplace. 

Slowly you walked towards him, before sitting in the chaise opposite, letting your eyes roam over his form. 

Aemond sat lazily, and comfortably in his large green armchair. Hand holding the goblet as he sipped, whilst the other rested upon the arm of the chair. It reminded you of the first night he had snuck into your chambers.

“Drink.” He commanded, and you obeyed. 

You would not argue with that.

You would surely need wine for what was to come. 

Would it be painful? Would he enjoy hurting you? Would you bleed as you had been told you would?

You pulled the goblet up to your lips and emptied it, resting the cup in your lap as your fingers trailer over the rim, waiting for his next command to strip and lay on the bed for him.

To lay spread for him.

To be ready for his brutality.

But he didn’t.

And instead, your husband continued to sip the wine, not talking, nor moving, until his cup was empty too. Once his goblet was dry, and he had sat for many moments more, he turned his face to look at you.

The light from the fire cast a sharp shadow across his face, causing his already pointed features to look more defined. He was hauntingly beautiful you mused.

A shame.

And a waste.

“The King wishes for us to dine with him this evening. To celebrate our union.” Aemond told you, eye roaming to where your hands had stilled at the lip of the cup.

Aegon.

You were to dine with Aegon this evening. 

Memories of your last meeting in the dungeon flashed through your mind. His hands on your throat, the feeling of his cock brushing roughly against your sex. Nausea began to roll through your body, and your heart ran a marathon within your chest. 

“He will not touch you.” 

Aemond’s voice pulled you from the dark memories of your mind. You blinked at him uncertain. 

Aegon may not touch you, but Aemond surely would.

And you did not know who would be worse.

For all of Aegon’s devious desires, they were laid bare to the world. He did not hide himself nor his actions. Where as Aemond held his close to him. He did not let anyone know of the man he truly was, nor what he truly desired. 

What was worse?

The knowing of such cruelty, or the unknown of what cruelty lies before you.

Aemond watched as you spiralled with your thoughts before he abruptly stood. He stalked towards you, looking down as you clutched harder at the cup in your lap. A large hand came towards you and you could not help but flinch at the movement. 

If he noticed you jump, it did not stop him, as he plucked the goblet from your hand, moving to the side of the room, to place both of your empty cups back where the decanter was. 

“I will have the maids come and dress you for the evening.” 

Aemond swiftly walked across the room, opening the door before exiting, leaving you in the vast emptiness of the space of the chambers that you would now call yours. 

Chambers that you would now live and breathe in for Gods knew how long. Chambers that you would eat, and sleep and bathe in. Chambers in which you would share a bed with your husband, and have him put his seed in you.

Chambers where you may begin to swell with a child. 

It was all so much, that you found you could not even cry at the thought. You do not know how long you spent sitting where you sat, eyes still on the fire, that when the maids came to pull the heavy riding leathers from your body, and replace them with robes for dinner, you did not resist. 

Nor did you resist when the familiar gaze of your now husband watched on as they stripped you. Nor did you resist when he crowded you so suddenly, hand on the small of your back, as he moved to lead you out of your chambers towards the dining room you had all dined in before. 

It was not until you were halfway there did you come back to yourself.

It was not until your feet had begun to feel heavy, and the scarring on your side began to feel tight, did you realise you stood in the corridor, with Aemond standing beside you, eye half lidded as he looked at you. 

It was not until then you realised you had stopped walking, and noticed your surroundings. 

“Zaldristos.” Aemond uttered, as he looked down at you. 

That was what broke the spell.

You swallowed thickly and looked down at yourself.

You wore a deep red dress, almost the colour of your combined blood. It was tight, but not too tight, the sleeves were soft, and upon each wrist were embroidered dragons.

One the left side, a black dragon, embroidered scales shimmering in the light of the torches. 

One the right, a green dragon.

A dress you had not seen before.

As you looked at the gown, Aemond hummed, moving forward again, neither touching you nor waiting for you to follow. You were left to trail behind him towards the familiar wooden doors, with their soft rounded tops.

He waited at the entrance for you, as the two knights held each side, only when you stood beside him did the doors open, and the room was revealed to you. 

It had changed. 

There were no familiar curtains or tapestry on the walls. The table had been replaced and the chairs reupholstered. The room had no sigils of the House Targaryen, and instead were replaced with gaudy green tapestry, and symbols of the Seven Faith.

What was left of the small reminder of home was now gone. 

Alicent had been busy.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen, and his Lady Wife, the Princess Y/n Velaryon.” Came the low timber of Ser Criston Cole. 

Lady Wife. 

His.

It felt so strange.

Your eyes settled to the table. 

Aegon sat where your Grandsire once had.

It was wrong.

Unnatural.

To see the seat where Viserys had sat, and laughed, and smiled with vigour, to now be replaced with someone who sneered, and drank, and whored, was blasphemous.

The conquerors crown sat heavily atop his wavy hair, and deep green robes were upon his person. On his right sat his mother, the Dowager Queen Alicent, and his left, Ser Otto Hightower. 

Further along the table sat Lord Larys Strong.

And as you looked at him, you could scarcely see any resemblance to his brother, Ser Harwin Strong. You wondered what he thought of Aemond slaying his entire House?

But he was most likely just as vicious, having become the Master of Whispers to the Queen, and now your uncle, the King. His face held an odd look to it. He had sad brown eyes, and was built thinly.

A lean man with no strength of his body, only his mind. 

A dangerous man indeed.

You had heard and only witnessed once yourself that the man had a clubbed foot. Perhaps his family gave him grievances like yours had to Aemond.

Perhaps he was relived to be rid of them.

Lord Jasper Wilde, and a familiar blond head of Lord Tyland Lannister sat at the table, watching you silently as you walked up the few small stairs to the table. 

You were in the presence of the Kings Small Council. 

They had all been invited to witness the proof of your union, and proof of your despair.

“There they are!” Came the sickening boom of Aegon’s voice as he roughly pushed himself up to stand, palms opening out widely as he smiled smugly at you.

“The newly weds! Congratulations on your union brother,” Aegon kept his eyes on you as he spoke, “And welcome back to the Keep, Princess. You left without so much as a goodbye last time you were here.”

He was goading you. 

As you reached the level ground, Aemond stepped forth and pulled a chair back for you, looking at you expectantly to sit in it. You hesitated, before coming forth and sitting in the chair as he pulled out his own and seated himself.

Alicent’s watchful gaze did not leave yours.

Her face was unreadable, but the same sour, downturned lips you had gotten used to as a child was ever present. You felt the gaze of everyone at the table upon you. You held your fingers in your lap, digging your nails into the cut of your palm, which was now bandaged from the maids. 

You had not even felt them do it.

“Apologies that I could not make it to witness such a beautiful union. But now we can celebrate together.” The Usurper King continued, clapping his hands loudly together.

You did not take your eyes from Alicent, keeping your gaze locked on her as he spoke.

This is what you have done.

You started this.

Your only solace was knowing that you had taken one of her sons, the way she had taken Lucerys from you and your mother. 

You heard the giggle of Aegon as his hands clapped together again in excitement.

“I don’t think I’ve heard my niece be so quiet before. Have you broken her already, Aemond?” 

You grit your teeth, and pushed your finger deeper into your palm, feeling the bandages wet, and still, you kept your eye on the woman who started it all.

Aemond simply hummed, before acknowledging his mother who sat opposite him.

“Don't tell me she has snatched your voice too, brother? One minute in her cunt and already you’ve gone soft.” Aegon snickered.

“Aegon.” Came the warning voice of Otto Hightower. 

The energy at the table was so tense, that even the guards and knights stationed about the room shifted uncomfortably on their feet.

“It is good to have you back in King's Landing,” Otto began, “I am sure that you and Aemond shall settle in together in no time.” He gave you a warm smile, and it made you more uncomfortable than Aegon’s comments. 

Aegon let out a high pitched laugh though his nose, before clicking his fingers out beside his head. The noise and movement made you stiffen.

Alicent witnessed the reaction.

And soon the table was being filled with foods and more wine, your own goblet being filled, which you snatched from the table and emptied rapidly. Aegon watching, smile widening. 

As the Usurper King sat back in his large chair and drank from his cup, he kept his eyes on you as he told you of plans for the treaty and how it would work. Insisting that the North would surely love to have your mother as their Queen, which the both of you knew; they wouldn’t. 

In fact, it seemed that everyone at the table knew.

Just as you had expected.

When your plate was filled with foods, you found that you had no appetite for it, instead turning to your cup, which you drank from heavily, having it refilled by the cup bearers more than thrice. 

And before long, conversation flittered around the table stiffly about the union, and expectation for children, much to Aegon’s delight, and your disgust. And so you let yourself retreat back into your mind, letting their words become a distant hum as you stared at Alicent, drinking from your cup.

The Dowager Queen did not sit still as you stared at her. Her eyes would meet yours and flit away to look at the three Lords at the table and her sons, before she would gaze back at you, finding that you had not moved her from your sights. 

“Tell me brother, have you bed her yet?” Aegon’s voice pulled you from your numb haze.

No reply came.

“Do you remember how it is done? I’d be happy to show you.” He snickered, and the Lannister let out an uneasy laugh.

Alicent growled Aegon’s name again and Otto began to speak before Aegon interrupted him. 

“We should hold a bedding ceremony, to ensure that the deed is done properly. I can talk you through it.”

You let your gaze leave Alicent for the first time, and turned your head to look at your husband beside you, who sat straight in his chair, hands bunched in balls by his side.

His jaw was tight and tensed, and his brow was furrowed. 

“Come now brother, surely you have not forgotten what I showed you on your thirteenth name day.” Aegon laughed, pulling his goblet up to his lips. 

You watched as Aemond’s mouth pulled into a sneer.

“The King is merely joking with you, My Prince. We are all in good spirits for this union.” Otto tried, and failed to cover for the King.

“You heard the old bat, we are all in good spirits! You are finally wed to the one woman who had given you any attention at all. Sure, she is a bastard-“

“Watch your tongue.” You sneered at the King, resolve disappearing.

“So she speaks!” Aegon declared proudly to the table, looking at the Lords as they all smiled unsurely, “Finally. There is my niece who I know and love. Though I fear if you are able to speak, perhaps my brother did not fuc-“

Aemond shot up from his seat at the table, fists tight on the wood near his plate as he stared down at his hands. You looked up at your husband who breathed deeply, knuckles white as he fisted them.

“Aem, brother.” Aegon mock cooed, “You know I am only teasing. Come,” He looked across the table, picking up his goblet, “Lets raise our cups to this fine union!” 

The Lord’s and the Dowager Queen picked up their cups, holding them towards you both.

You kept your gaze on Aemond, whose head slowly turned to you to meet your eyes, his violet orb half lidded and scowl upon his lips. He looked full of rage, just barely controlled beneath the surface of his bristling posture. 

Your hand came up on its own, to reach out to touch him, to calm him, but as soon as your hand moved, you found that Aemond looked down at in in disgust before he seated himself, no longer looking at you, instead stiffly grabbing his goblet before him. 

You mirrored his action, trying to push down your budding fear and anxiety, now that Aegon and riled him up. 

He had done it on purpose.

“To my brother, may she warm your heart and your cock, and may you make me a grand-uncle soon enough.” He smirked, before turning his gaze on you, “And to my wonderful niece, may you warm his bed, and birth his heirs, and feel the warmth of his love.”

“Hear, Hear!” Came the confident voice of Tyland Lannister, followed by everyone else, seemingly ignoring his crude remarks.

Or perhaps, they had gotten used to it by now.

He was their King, whether they liked it or not.

Neither you nor Aemond spoke, but drank deeply from your cups, before placing them down. 

A beat passed before Aemond spoke.

“Excuse us,” His voice cut across the table, stilling the King in his excitement, “I wish to spend time with my wife.” 

Your husband stood from his seat, moving to stand beside yours waiting. He did not hold out his hand, nor offer to assist you in any way, simply stood and expected you to follow as he bid the table a good night, bowing stiffly to his brother, anger rolling from him in waves. 

Standing you stared once more at Alicent, before turning on your heel to follow Aemond out of the dining hall, and back to your shared chambers. You did not spare a glance to Aegon, nor the other Lord’s, nor did you spare a glance at your husbands face.

You let Aemond lead you to the chambers, his strides quick and purposeful, until finally you reached the room, and you were inside, and the door behind you was shut softly with a thud by the knights. 

And then you were alone, with your husband Aemond, on the night of your wedding.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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[anothersarcasticdolphin]

🖤 Goodbye kiss between Laenyra please

Sorry it took me a few days to answer this one.

This is just about compliant to show-canon and quite angsty/tragic.

Under the cut for series-typical events

They are both still maidens the last time they speak properly. Alone. Rhaenyra had wished to keep her friend at court, but Laena's marriage to Daemon had put a stall on that plan.

It seemed each day brought another stab of guilt or pain. Rhaenys wrote of Daemon taking his new bride on a tour of the Free Cities, but soon enough the tour turned into residence in Pentos, beyond the sea.

At first it had been temporary - just until Laena was delivered of her child, until she could fly again. Rhaenyra remembers how she'd smiled at the message that heralded the birth of her dear friend's twins, even if the line she had looked to first hadn't been the names of the girls, but rather the one in which Daemon spoke of Laena's wellbeing.

But still, they linger in Pentos, in the East. It's not that Rhaenyra never sees her precious friend - Rhaenys summons them all to Driftmark often enough - but the dinners at the island that is the home of Rhaenyra's husband and of Laena tend to affairs that are endured rather then enjoyed. Lord Corlys is not a man who can ever be ignored, and he is always asking after grandchildren or the intrigues of King's Landing.

Part of Rhaenyra selfishly thinks to ask Laenor to watch the children for a day or two, just so she can fly over the sea and see Laena once more. Just so she can wrap her arms around the friend she loves so dearly. They hadn't spent years arm in arm the way Rhaenyra had with Alicent, but they understood each other in a way that no one else did.

For all Laenor had Seasmoke, he was a rider born of the war in the Stepstones. He did not ride for pleasure, only when he needed to. But Laena - the twinkle in her eye as Rhaenyra had tried to describe the sensation of flying all those years ago had said more than any words could. She understood.

But Rhaenyra never does ask Laenor. Never leaves the viper pit. For the sake of her sons, she tells herself. As much as Laenor was a warrior and loved them as his own, they needed the type of protection only a mother could give. And their dragons were far too young to mount, let alone to fly over the sea.

So she resigns herself to the brief meetings at Driftmark, the longing glances. The fond memories of their precious few days together. Of those days when Rhaenyra had been on Driftmark to meet her future husband, but had found herself far more enamored with his lady sister.

Laena announces that she is with child at one of the dinners. Corlys almost seems pleased, and Rhaenyra takes her precious friend's hands afterwards, murmuring that she is beautiful, glowing. Pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her lips, and wishing that they saw each other more often. That Daemon would move his family back to somewhere closer. Dragonstone, perhaps.

But Laena gives a soft shake of her head even as she blushes. Dragonstone is too close to Driftmark. Perhaps Rhaenyra should bring her children to see Pentos, to have a break from court. After the babe is born, that is. Rhaenyra's boys and Laena's girls are of an age. They should know their cousins.

The next raven is written in Daemon's own hand, and the parchment has stains that can only be tears. Laena, it says, is gone.

The funeral is a cold, distant affair. The vipers of court come to Driftmark, worse than any dinner with Corlys. All Rhaenyra wants is to mourn her friend. The sister she never had. Instead she spends the night fretting over Luke as her arm aches. Not from the cut - Valyrian steel was too sharp to hurt - but from the delicate stiches that held the wound shut.

The King and his retinue depart in the morning, not long after first light, Laena's dragon with tham. It is only then that Rhaenyra makes her way to the pier alone, and gazes down into the waves. A glimmer is just visible beneath them. Laena.

And just as it had been that first day they had met, there are no words. Flying was flying. It didn't need to be explained. Rhaenyra's tears are silent as she bows her head, thinking of the friend she had always wished to know better. She places a soft kiss to her own fingers and offers it to the deep. It had been another dream of their first meeting, that day at Driftmark. The Lady Laena was beautiful. And Rhaenyra so wished that she had kissed her properly.

[writingsofwesteros]

This!!

Thinking about how Daemon deserves better. She left Kings Landing when she was 12/13 (she had no idea what she was doing at first she just wanted to leave) she’s now 18 and has lived a happy life away from everyone with just her dragon. She’s growing beautifully and prospering away from the hell that is Kings Landing, her dragon is growing bigger by the day because she’s free of the pits and has room to grow. She has her own little cottage, her own garden of vegetables and a few animals: chickens, two pigs, a cow and a goat. It’s nice she’s quite a shy person so being away from everyone is actually enjoyable, she has her dragon and that’s all she needs. Until Daemon turns up one day out of the blue, he had no idea she even lived in this little island, he was just exiled again, for taking Rhaenyra to a brothel (she never got punished though it was all him as if she didn’t want to go there too, as usual it’s his fault) everyone was looking for her for months and couldn’t find her, they thought she was dead. He had half a mind to tell Viserys his daughter was here, until he saw with his own eyes how happy she is away from that vipers nest. He couldn’t take her back there just to watch slowly as the light and laughter fades from her eyes. So he just stays there with her instead. She was happy to see him, he was always kind to her and he seems sad at the minute so of course she let him and his gorgeous dragon stay. He loved it there, it’s not war and fights but there’s something different about it, something that makes him feel better than war and whores and everything else that he thought made him happy. Caraxes loves it, he’s not stuck in the pits, he can hunt for his own food and he seems to fancy her dragon. He doesn’t plan on leaving, especially when he gets home made meals and kisses to his face at the end of the day, understanding from her. She shows him it isn’t weak to be seen with emotions, that not everyone will push his emotions to the side in favour of their own or power. She’s so kind to him and when he eventually breaks, she’s there. Cuddling him into her, stroking his hair, scratching his back, giving him words of comfort and actually listening to him.

So it’s no surprise when he falls for her, he falls for her so hard and he has no problem showing it (I imagine Daemon as a very affectionate person with the right one) she likes him just as much, he’s not an old Lord she used to see that treated their wife awfully, he treats her with respect and he’s lovely towards her, never gets too angry as she told him he should talk his emotions out, she’ll always listen to him. That made his day as no one actually listens to his problems they just assume he’s come to make issues for everyone. He gets heated sometimes but she’ll just tell him to explain so she understands and he does and the issue is sorted after that. He always kisses her cheek, temple, palm, forhead everywhere. He helps with the animals while she does her garden work - because she’d kill him if he touched her garden, that’s hers he’s not aloud to touch unless there’s a really hard weed that needs pulling out. They share the same bed now too, he holds her each and every night, she holds him back and they just talk about everything and anything, giggling and laughing at the stupidest things, just being together. He likes this life he has with her and has no plans of going back to whatever shit show Kings Landing is now. They only reason they ever left was to get married on Dragonstone and even then they only went for the day on Caraxes so her dragon wasn’t recognised, seeing Daemon and Caraxes every few months is normal. Now watching his wife dance about their garden in the flowers with her swelling belly is everything he realised he ever wanted and never admitted to, having his own family that will only ever know love. He’s not letting anyone take that from him. He doesn’t care who he has to go through to achieve that.

The prettiest, sweetest thing ever!!!!!!!

[the-yeens-art]

Royal Dragons of Dragod's Plane

Lore blurbs and inspirations under the cut! The sizes in the picture are not perfectly to scale it's more like jjba power levels are dictated by height lmao

🟦Queen Sky(she/her): Queen of the Chromatic dragons. A mile long(and 22ft wide just the body)! She takes a thunderstorm wherever she goes, thunderstorms are seen as dire omens in this setting. She's based on the blue pit viper.

🌟Emperor Magnan(he/him): Emperor of the Metallic dragons. He resides inside the volcano of an island called Wishstar Island. There is a temple on the island dedicated to the dragon full of monks and wizards who study the wisdom of the ancient benevolent dragon. He's based on Eastern style dragons in general.

🟥Lord General Cragdor(he/him): The general of the Red Army, the largest military force on the Chromatic side. He's the size of a mountain! Instead of wings, he uses jets on the bottom of his cross shaped feet to explosively launch himself into the air. He is based on bulls and volcanoes.

🥈General Clamor(he/she/they): They are the general of the Metallic Military, the largest force on the metallic side. Most frequently found in whatever shape shifted form holds their fancy that month. They have a habit of bedding a new person frequently and for fun. Their royal house is made up of 4 silver half dragons(that they carried +birthed as a female humanoid) that are considered the highest ranking. In addition, every half dragon made by them otherwise as well as the mother gets added to the royal court. They're based on Western Dragons in general, just a little thiccy.

⬜Count Fang(it/its/he/him): Count Fang is only dragon royalty on the Chromatic side out of technicality. It is the biggest most powerful white dragon, so it won the title. It lives on the upper region of the planet known as the Arctic ice sheet. Life is harsh there, while there are humanoids there, the rest of the world ignores it due to the climate. It is not even evil necessarily, it has a focus on growing bigger and stronger and better at hunting. As the apex predator of the Arctic ice sheet, other things living there worship it as a symbol of survival and hunting. Its wings are not for flight, they are thick and blanket-like webs of connective tissue and fur. It wraps them around its body when diving into the frigid water, as well as when it sleeps. It has black scales that hollow/white fur grows out of. It is based on polar bears and whales.

🥉High Captain Coral(she/her): High Captain Coral is the pirate queen and ruler of the seas. She spends most of her time polymorphed into a humanoid woman. She runs all of the important trade routes. She also manages a pirate haven island (Blackship) where her den is, as well as a pirate's hoard of items and treasure. Technically she is only a pirate by flavor standards, but she is not above attacking ships that steal from her. She does not like getting involved in the Dragon War, she prefers managing sailors to soldiers. Her dragon form is based on otters.

🟧Lord Bee(he/him): Lord Bee is child minded young copper dragon. He loves pranks and jokes. His Lair (The Sting Pit) has a comedy club-esque stage/stadium that looks like a colosseum but drilled into a flat clifftop. Wants to solve conflict via humor and pranks. He wants to make a travelling circus that cheers up anyone and everyone who sees it. When his pranks go badly and hurt others he becomes deeply depressed. He's based on a bee, obviously.

⬛Lord Strip(he/him): As the Chromatic royal torturer he enjoys torture of every kind. His name comes from his most common method of torture, stripping skin off of living victims. He then submits them to his acid bile breath weapon, or the acidic Black Swamps he lives in. Then if they still don't give up the information, he allows their raw flesh to get infected and rot while on their body. He wants to torture as many humanoids as possible. He dreams of also torturing the Metallic True Dragons or their children. He researches new methods, constantly trying to find the balance between most agony and slowest death. His weaknesses are sanitation and radiant damage. Abhors anything clean and soap and high proof alcohol. Holy light cleanses in this setting. Based on frogs and alligators.

🎺:Lady Gymdora(she/her): She spends most of her time polymorphed as a female dwarf. She wants to create a better world via an empire that she rules. She is trying to build a whole civilization with ideal living conditions for dragons and humanoids. She wants the Dragon War to end so that she can safely colonize more territory to build upon. Naive. Loves gossip and facts and can be convinced to do bad things if it seems profitable/beneficial to her plans. Her dragon form is based on bats and flying squirrels.

🟩Lady Thorn(she/her): She wants to rule the world without ever lifting a claw. To extend her influence past her current territory without having to leave it. She raises kobolds so highly trained as spies that they can be sent to colonize in her name. Her weaknesses: She can't fly. She isn't weak to fire damage, but the plants covering her body are. She gets deeply enraged beyond reason when her forest gets damaged.

[downtofragglerock]

Moving on to reptiles, we actually have quite a bit to look at

If you count birds as their separate thing, there are currently four main extant groups of reptiles: lizards, snakes, crocodilians, and turtles/tortoises, all of which actually get representation as rahi

For lizards, we have the inaccurately named furnace salamander, the Tunneler, the great swamp lizard, and most famously the Tarakava and it's smaller sandy cousin

The mu is chockfull of snakes, you have the air serpent, the crystal serpent, the fire serpent, the red serpent, the bog snake, the stone snake, the Lohrak, and doom viper, and the snake rahi from the cancelled pc game

Testudines-wise, we have the dermis turtle, the pit war tortoise, the shore turtle, and the turtle rahi from the cancelled pc game

And okay, technically there aren't confirmed crocodilian rahi, but given it's behavior, appearance, and habitat, I'm willing to bet the swamp stalker is one

That covers all the major extant groups, which really only leaves the Tuatara unaccounted for, but given that Tuataras are endemic to Aotearoa, and Bionicle famously and infamously took influence from Maori culture as well as other pacific islander groups, I have a hunch that a Tuatara rahi exists, either as an unseen unique species, or one the "lizard" rahi was misnamed, a phenomenon we know happens because the razorfish is a mammal and the furnace salamander isn't an amphibian

But then there's the other groups, because thanks to the Tahtorak and the rock raptor, we know that dinosaurs, at least theropods, are kicking in the mu

And then there's the longfang, which is only described as being a reptile and having effectively saber teeth, which if that's all we have to go off of sure sounds like a gorgonopsid

And then there's the dragons, because the mu has actual dragons, like the kanohi dragon, the phase dragon, the proto drake, and the Hikaki, which is described as a "dragon lizard" but given that it seems to have vestigial wings I'm counting it here

And there, that's all the reptiles

[cypher-gay1]

Ohh Circe, I can imagine you with an entire island full of various reptiles.

Do feel free to ask me anything, it’s basically a ritual for you at this point to play this little game of cat and mouse where you try to figure out who the other person is, isn’t it ?

Although I will be honest. I am not sure if I would call the reason I am sending you this “romantic”. More like an extreme curiosity slowly turning into a bit of an obsession.

My day has been going well, now at least. ;)

---₊✧

Omg yes. A island full of the most dangerous reptiles would be a dream. Like imagine all the adorble Komodo dragons and pit vipers. I would be in my element.

Oo ok, I love games of cat and mouse. I must ask since I only talk about wanting a anon in the obsessive channals what role do you have

Yandere , darling or both?

Oooo ok thats ok. Oo

I am glad your day have been doing well. Have some headpats *headpats

[usagirotten]

Cobra Strikes Back in 'G.I. Joe: Wrath of Cobra' Video Game Trailer!

Get ready to jump into the action-packed world of G.I. Joe like never before because today, the official trailer for the upcoming video game "G.I. Joe: Wrath of Cobra" was announced! 🎮 A new G.I. Joe beat 'em up is on its way. Hasbro, developer Maple Powered Games, and publisher Freedom Games announced G.I. Joe: Wrath of Cobratoday. The upcoming retro game will let you play as series stalwarts Duke, Scarlett, Snake Eyes, Roadblock, and other classic characters. It joins TMNT: Shredder’s Revenge and Double Dragon reboot as the latest evidence that 2D side-scrolling punch-fests are enjoying an unexpected 2020s renaissance. The game’s developers promise a variety of locales to bash and kick your way through as you try to defeat Cobra. “Navigate land, air, sea, and even space through iconic locations like Cobra Island, the Pit, Cobra’s top-secret underwater base, and more as you thwart the devious Cobra Commander’s latest scheme to take over the world,” the game’s announcement reads. It promises an arsenal of weapons, explosives, and more.  Key Features - Retro Gameplay in a Modern Era – Wrath of Cobra takes the classic arcade beats them up and brings it into the modern age: Easy to play, hard to master, and smoother than a ride in a H.I.S.S. Want to play with your friends? The game supports local multiplayer (eg. from your couch) and online co-op! - Play as Classic Heroes – Fight Cobra as your favorite G.I. JOE heroes, painstakingly recreated in beautiful pixel art. The differences between characters aren’t just cosmetic: Each hero has different movesets and unique abilities. From the fast and agile Snake Eyes to the rough and tumble Roadblock, each character is true to form! - Battle Iconic Villains – Cobra isn’t just the Cobra Commander, it’s its legions! Face hordes of troopers, armored Alley Vipers, artificial B.A.T.s, armed with some of the most iconic weapon systems in the franchise, including the H.I.S.S., C.L.A.W., and the notorious Trubble Bubble. - Retro-Infused Soundtrack – Foil the Commander’s plot to the beat of classic G.I. JOE themes, reimagined by industry veterans at Kid Katana Records, bringing a modern twist to classic arcade music! - Post-Launch Support – Like Destro’s plots, Wrath of Cobra will continue with extensive post-launch support, bringing more G.I. JOE heroes into the fray, adding new game modes, levels, and more to keep the G.I. JOE legacy alive!

Read the full article

[beartoothbarry]

Decided to make up some lore on beartooth's behalf (you’re welcome oshie) Barry's snakes can shapeshift and they do so with each new album. Here's my ideas

Sick- dragon snake

Disgusting- black mamba

Aggressive- gray ratsnake

Disease- western ground snake

Blackbird session- hognoses wearing little cowboy hats :)

Below- common purple-glossed snake

Riptide- white-lipped island pit viper

Sunshine- banded krait

The Surface- grand canyon pink rattlesnake

[theblackdragon-studios]

(Some) Headworld Dragons

Some of the dragons of my Headworld (loose term), which is basically my fursona, BD’s in-character story.

I was listening to some Two Steps from Hell music (they’re a dramatic trailer and movie music-sounding I think group) and it got me feeling nostalgic for this “project” you could call it. Which is BD’s story, basically. The official, not brought into any other source story (and instead her husband Aara/vos has been written into it, but more on him under the cut with the rest.)

Story Summary: Meg had just graduated college when it happened. She was getting her future figured out and had been preparing to go about acquiring a position at a place of work she had been aiming for. She was getting ready to move out of her parents house completely as well, and start “adulting”

…until that summer something happens that changes not only her life, but her entire identity in one day.

Below is a bit of a briefing of the characters (right to left, top to bottom):

Meg/Pendara: The protagonist/hero of course, Meg starts out as a college student-to-graduate who isn’t happy with the degree she went for. She was going to try a different college to get a different degree, or another class that would help narrow her job choices...but during the summer she was dragged into going on a camping trip (or something. I haven’t worked out the details) with some classmates she considers friends. 

This is where her plans are thrown out the window, as the night progresses with some dramatic event happening (again...details under construction) where she transforms for the first time (to her knowledge or memory) and she has to run for it. She ends up in a reasonably-sized cave where she falls asleep from the stress exhausting her. The next morning being woken by ANOTHER dragon! And long story turned short...he teaches her how to function in her new body and they journey together to the nearest place he knows where dragons live safely away from humans...and so her story really begins there.

Megaera: By official title, she is the princess of the hidden kingdom Meg (renamed Pendara eventually) is brought to, and therefore heir to the throne. By actual character...as of now she is the Big Sister character type, as in she starts tough, but will be there for her friends and warms up to Meg soon enough. 

Her past is much less friendly, however. Megaera was once the infamous stereotypical dragons they write stories about. Arrogant, selfish, and tyrannical, she terrorized a specific spot of Europe until Arkelm the Golden arrived and used her arrogance against her to beat her in a fight she initiated. Later saving her life when she was finally taken down and about to be killed by the humans she once oppressed. He gave her a second chance, and she took it, traveling with him as his student and traveling companion for many years...but more on her later.

Arkelm: Not much is known about his early years, but over his centuries of life he was given the title of “Arkelm the Golden” by several, which spread around the world. He is one of the most famous dragons on the planet, known for his good deeds and heroic feats while remaining humble and kind. Megaera respects him deeply, as do many others, but they have a special connection (not romantic or parental, but their relationship is unique to them.) 

He also has an interesting relationship with Maziah (coming next) and is one of the first to give Meg a chance when she comes to the city. 

Maziah: Grumpy by default, Maziah would rather be in her study all day fiddling with her potions and pet projects relating to mixing concoctions and things. She is not a very sociable dragon at all, but is the city’s best alchemist. Arkelm is perhaps the only one you will see talking with her like they are close friends, and that is probably because they are. Anyone else is either treated to a long, hard look...or threatened with being force-fed poison. 

She is one of the coldest to Meg when she arrives, but that isn’t out of character with Maziah. Deep down she is very loyal to her city, though, and her king. 

Azure: At least for now, Azure is the dragon that found and brought Meg to the hidden city. He is a race of Serpens dragons (snake dragons) resembling and expressing mannerisms of pythons...and as of now I don’t have a lot to say on him. If I ever publish this story, he will have a different placement in it in Meg’s friend group.

King Aegeus: The king of the dragons, who rules and protects the dragons of the hidden city. When Meg arrives, he is wary of her, but allows her refuge in the city as he does all dragons that come here. He is a mysterious figure like Arkelm...but just and good deep down. He is also Megaera’s father, but they were separated when she was still a child, resulting in her eventual rise to power in the opposite way she should have. 

Island Pit Viper dragon (unnamed): I...don’t have much to say on this one. I think it will be male, and he is heavily influenced by the Island Pit Viper, a snake of these colors and with this plated look to it. Very pretty snake. As the name says, he is of the Viper race of Serpens dragons. 

Varsolus: One of the king’s most loyal and powerful soldiers, shown through the scars he has received in battle (though not all are from his service to the king.) Varsolus is very loyal to the crown...and to defending his city. (I don’t have a lot more to say on him. He isn’t a major part of the story I don’t think...)

Yandor: Varsolus’ younger brother and not near as brave or skilled in battle. He’ll probably end up being a traitor...because he doesn’t like how things are being run here. 

King Cobra dragon (unnamed): I don’t have a name for this guy either...he is also a soldier, and one of the Cobra dragons in the Serpens group. That’s all I have on him, though.

False Water Cobra dragon (unnamed): Originally this was going to be the King Cobra’s sister, who when they were younger thought she was a King Cobra as well but grew out of it...but I’m leaning more toward her being the other character’s mate instead. She still was raised by true Cobra dragons, but by the time of meeting her husband, had been set straight on her adopted status (it isn’t tragic or depressing either. They loved her as they did any of their other children.)

Aara/vos: For a disclaimer, he is a placeholder character. If I end up publishing this story, he will be replaced with a different dragon of mine which I have shared on here before... I’m still not sure what his story is yet, but he is one of the oldest dragons alive, a member of the most ancient race which Pendara (on purpose) has some features of. As for his status...I don’t know if he will be a criminal, or just a mysterious character that she meets and is taught more about her identity from...as well as other things. Also the love interest, of course, because my headworld, my rules. (He will also be redesigned a bit, but not by much.)

This is only some of the characters in the story. There are others I couldn’t fit...like the central villains...but here are some of them. If you read through all this, thank you. I hope you enjoyed hearing about them. 

[sydneysageivashkov]

Everything We’ve Done (Is There On Our Faces) 3/?

It started, once upon a time, with Ned Stark finding a litter of orphaned dire wolf cubs, with Robert Baratheon riding for Winterfell, with Ned becoming Hand of the King in the viper’s pit that was King’s Landing.

It restarts like this:

Arya and Sansa wake up as children again, a message ringing in their ears. The Old Gods need Westeros to be strong and united to defend the Wall, and the Old Gods don’t forget oaths easily.

(Time travel AU. Eventual Sansa/Theon, Arya/Gendry, Jaime/Brienne.)

AO3 | FF.net

“Maester Luwin,” said Ned gravely. “What are your thoughts on the Others?”

“That they didn’t exist, my lord,” said Luwin simply. “There was one work that suggested that the Others might be some mythicised memory of a tribe of First Men, living so far north to almost be in the Lands of Always Winter. The work itself has been discredited, but I have always thought it to be more likely than a race of ice-men.”

Ned tapped his fingers against his desk and asked, “And what would you say if I told you I have proof that not only they existed, but that they still do?”

Maester Luwin hesitated. “Do you have proof, my lord?”

“I may,” said Ned. “I am still waiting for confirmation, but I’m willing to trust the information for the moment.”

“Then…” Maester Luwin paused, recollected himself, then went on. “Then I would have to begin doing research, my lord. I never payed much mind to the stories of the Long Night.”

“Perhaps it is time to change that,” suggested Ned.

“Perhaps it is, yes,” agreed Luwin. “Are you quite confident in your evidence, my lord?”

The far-away look in Arya’s eyes, the cynicism in Sansa, the way Theon’s hands shook… They were not the same children they had been only a day ago. “I think so, yes.”

“It has been a long summer,” noted Luwin.” “The Citadel believes it will be a long winter, too. Even without interference from… the Others -” Luwin tugged at his chain nervously – “it will still be a long and difficult winter. Perhaps the first thing you should do in preparation is to increase the stockpiling of grain. It will be useful even if your – information – proves untrue.”

“Thank you, Maester Luwin,” said Ned. “I will send word to the lords of the North today, and write to the King. There is a good chance we will need to be resupplied from the South, regardless of how well we stockpile and ration ourselves.” As Luwin bowed his head in agreement, there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” he called.

“It’s Robb, Father,” replied his son, voice muffled through the thick door. “There’s more you should know.”

Ned dismissed Luwin with a nod. Robb, Arya and Jon bundled into the room as Luwin left. Arya stood stick straight, while Jon radiated fury from every pore of his body. Robb had furious tears in his eyes, fists clenching and unclenching unconsciously.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Sansa wasn’t entirely honest with you,” said Arya bluntly. “It wasn’t the Boltons who first sacked Winterfell and made Bran and Rickon flee.” Ned glanced over at Jon as she spoke, but the boy didn’t react to her words; he must have been filled in by his siblings.

“It was Theon!” burst out Robb, furious betrayal ringing through his voice.

“It was Theon,” echoed Arya. “Robb sent him to treat with Balon Greyjoy, but Theon turned cloak and helped to take Winterfell instead.”

Theon… Ned leant back in his chair, trying to take in the new information. He could still remember the boy, tiny but spitting in rage, as he was taken from his home. Perhaps he should have expected this from the moment Sansa had said the Greyjoys had rebelled once more.

“Why did Sansa lie?” he asked, keeping his voice as even as he could.

“Because she wanted to protect him,” said Arya. “He helped her, once, and she’s forgiven him for what he did because of it.” Arya’s lips curled as she spoke, unable to hide her disgust.

“Fetch Theon,” he told Jon.

“And Sansa?” asked Jon. “She was with him, the last time I saw.”

“If she’s still with him, bring her, too,” said Ned. “I want to hear every side of this before I pass judgement.”

Robb stilled and Jon paused by the door at his words. Arya met his eyes without flinching, flinty and unaffected. After another moment, Jon pulled the door open and slipped out.

“Father, are you certain?” asked Robb as the door swung closed.

“I don’t even know what my judgement will be yet,” said Ned. “But rest assured that no matter what decision I come to, Theon will not be executed.”

“What if he deserves to be?” asked Arya. “He tried to murder Bran and Rickon. Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik weren’t at Winterfell when I came home, so chances are he did murder them.”

“Because no crimes have been committed,” said Ned. “Bran and Rickon are safe in their rooms; Ser Rodrik is in the training yards, and you just saw Maester Luwin now. Can he be executed for a victimless crime?”

“It wasn’t victimless!” cried Arya. “He did it. Just because the slate has been wiped clean, doesn’t mean that it never happened.”

“If Theon is executed, Balon Greyjoy will rebel,” said Robb. “Theon’s not just a ward, he’s a hostage. If Father kills him, the Iron Islands will rebel.”

Arya narrowed her eyes at her brother. “You were ready to hit him just a half hour ago. You would have, if Sansa hadn’t arrived.”

Robb swallowed visibly, his shoulders hunching slightly. “I don’t want him dead, Arya.”

“Because it’s not real to you,” said Arya hotly. “It isn’t real to either of you! But it was, and he did it, and I’m not forgetting it.”

“No one is asking you to forget it,” cut in Ned. “Nor is anyone asking to forgive. Theon will be punished for his actions, but Robb is right. Theon cannot be executed. You and Sansa said yourselves that Westeros had to be united to face the Others.”

Arya’s jaw worked, staring at him defiantly.

“Sansa said in the Great Hall that Bran must have thought that he was saving,” went on Ned. “Neither Jon, Sansa nor Bran in your future, the three who had authority over him, passed the sentence. Tell me, do you think that any of them would have avoided doing their duty?”

Arya pressed her lips together before shaking her head.

Good, thought Ned. Even if he had failed to protect his children in Arya’s past, then at least he had done enough that they were still living by his principles. He must have done something right, somewhere along the line.

“I would like to hear a fuller story before I pass judgement, but Theon will still face justice for his actions, even if they are not as serious as we might like,” said Ned gently.

When Jon at last led Sansa and Theon back into the room, Arya glared at Theon from her spot in the corner of the room. Theon’s shoulders were hunched, eyes darting around the room nervously. Sansa held his hand, rubbing circles into the back of his hand with her thumb. She let go as Theon came to stand in front of Ned’s desk, stepping back to stand by Arya. Arya shot her sister a look, but Sansa ignored her, instead focusing her gaze on Ned.

“Theon,” said Ned.

“Yes, my lord,” said Theon, bowing his head.

“I am told that it is you who sacked Winterfell and forced Bran and Rickon to flee,” said Ned.

“Yes, my lord,” said Theon. “I didn’t sack Winterfell, but I did take it. Robb sent me to treat with my family. He was hoping that he could use the Iron Fleet. But when I returned to the Iron Islands…” Theon broke off, turning to Robb. “I should have stayed, I should have died with you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Theon,” said Sansa, her voice gentle. Theon started at the sound of her voice and quieted.

“Go on, Theon,” prompted Ned.

“When I returned to the Iron Islands, my father told me that he didn’t want to treat with anyone. He was going to raid the North in revenge, and he didn’t need any Green Landers – even me. I wanted to prove myself to him,” said Theon. “So I took Winterfell. Bran and Rickon got away with Hodor. My sister wanted me to abandon Winterfell. She said that it was useless for an Ironborn to hold a castle so far in land… I should have listened.” Theon’s hands had begun shaking.

“Winterfell was reclaimed by Ramsay Snow, Roose Bolton’s son,” said Theon. “He was the one to sack Winterfell. He held me hostage for years. I thought I was going to die with him, until Sansa came home to Winterfell to marry him, and I had to keep her safe, I had to.”

“You did keep me safe, Theon,” said Sansa. She looked over to Ned. “He gave himself back up to Bolton men to give me more time to escape. If Brienne hadn’t arrived, he would have been dragged back to Ramsay, and he did that willingly to keep me safe.”

Ramsay… That name had come up many times. He had heard Sansa say that she had fed him to his own dogs. What sort of person Ramsay, to bring Sansa to such a point? Sansa, a lady at three, who had dreamed of marrying a prince and who had sighed over stories of Florian and Jonquil – what had happened to that happy child?

“I went back to the Iron Islands,” said Theon. “My father was dead, so I supported Yara in the Kingsmoot, but my uncle, Euron, won. Yara and I sailed east and allied with the Dragon Queen, but when Yara went to retake the Iron Islands from Euron, I went North to fight for House Stark.” He hesitated and glanced behind him. “For Sansa. Bran was in the Godswood during the onslaught, and I protected him there until the end.”

Ned leant back in his chair. “Does anyone have anything else to add?” he asked the others, looking at Sansa and Arya.

“I do,” said Sansa. She swallowed hard, and looked at her siblings. “Can we speak alone, Father?”

“Sansa…” started Arya uncertainly.

“You don’t need to know this, Arya. Neither does Robb, and Theon doesn’t need to hear it,” said Sansa tightly.

Ned nodded at Robb, who bundled Arya out of the room. Theon followed, glancing back at Sansa worriedly. Sansa shut the door behind them before turning back to Ned. She smoothed her skirt down before running her hands through her hair. Her movements were jerky and agitated, and her hands were shaking.

At last, she took a deep breath and began to speak. “When I was wedded to Ramsay Bolton, I was told that Stannis was coming south from the Wall. If he won, I was already there to be restored as Lady of Winterfell, and if he lost, I was inside the castle to do what needed to be done.”

Ned opened his mouth, even though he couldn’t think of what to possibly say. A deep, distant horror ran through him, thrumming through his veins. Sansa spoke almost like she had been an assassin, ready to murder a husband in the dark.

“It was a mistake. It was a mistake on all of our parts, except Ramsay’s. When I arrived in Winterfell, I despised Theon the same as Arya does now. But he was broken, Father. He barely even responded to the name Theon, because Ramsay had tortured him into being Reek, instead. And Ramsay set out to break me, too.”

Bile rose abruptly in Ned’s throat. He forced it back. If nothing else, he owed Sansa this: to listen, to hear her story. To hear what he hadn’t protected her from.

“Joffrey had the King’s Guard beat me every time Robb won a battle,” said Sansa calmly. “That ultimately didn’t leave any scars. Ramsay did. He left my face, because he needed the face of Ned Stark’s daughter, but everywhere else… Well, he did what he liked with that, and he had a predilection for blood.”

Even though her voice was deadly calm, Sansa’s hands were shaking, and her bottom lip was trembling as she spoke. He couldn’t help but remember the placid way Sansa had spoken about what was to happen in the future. She hadn’t faltered once. Now, she shook in the face of her memories.

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty,” said Sansa. “I’m saying this to tell you what kind of person Ramsay Bolton was – is.” Sansa’s voice stumbled at last. She paused for a moment, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth as she breathed deeply through her nose. Eventually, she said, “Theon was with him for far longer than I was, but when it came to it, Theon saved me. He defied Ramsay to keep me safe, and he gave himself up to the Bolton men searching for us to give me a little more time. He came back to me in Winterfell and he protected Bran with his life.

“I’m not saying he never did anything wrong, Father,” said Sansa. “He did terrible things, and I understand why Arya has not forgiven him. But I believe that what Ramsay did to him outweighs anything you can possibly do. You might take his life, but Ramsay almost took his very soul.”

Ned stood up, walked around the table, and pulled Sansa into his arms. She went stiff for a moment, holding her breath, but then her arms wrapped around him and held tight. He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Never again,” he murmured. “It won’t happen again, Sansa. I promise you that.” Promise me, Ned.

He had kept his sister’s secret for fourteen years, at the cost of his reputation and the full trust of his wife. He would do what it took to keep his daughters safe now.

“I need time to make my decision,” he said, releasing Sansa. “Go to your sister and brothers.” Sansa nodded and slipped out the door.

Ned sighed to the empty room. What could he possibly do to Theon that hadn’t already been done?

His gaze drifted to where he kept past letters from his bannermen. Rifling through them, he found the letter informing him of Domeric Bolton’s death. It was still recent. Theon and Sansa had both referred to Ramsay as a Bolton, but Roose had only had one trueborn son – Ramsay must have been a legitimised bastard. There was still time, then, before Ramsay could gain any kind of power.

He sat back down at his desk, reading the letter again. And what can I do to prevent Ramsay Bolton from ever harming anyone else?

-

The silence in the hall outside Ned’s solar was deafening. Arya couldn’t help but glare at Theon from across the corridor. Theon was staring at the ground, unable to make eye contact with any of the Starks in the hallway with him.

Sansa slipped out of the solar and leant against the door, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her lips together, breathing heavily.

“You told him about Ramsay, didn’t you?” asked Theon. Sansa nodded and furiously brushed away a tear rolling down her cheek. He stepped towards her, but a death glare from Jon stopped him in his tracks. “It’s okay, Sansa. He isn’t here. You’re safe.”

“But he’s alive!” burst out Sansa. “He’s probably in the Dreadfort right now, training his dogs and gathering the Bastard’s Boys. He’ll come for us, Theon.”

“He doesn’t know who you are,” reminded Robb.

“He knows I’m the oldest Stark daughter,” said Sansa. “He’ll want me for that alone. He won’t stop until he has every part of the North under his grip, his to torment as he wants.”

Arya grabbed Sansa’s hand. “Come with me,” she ordered, dragging her sister down the hall.

“Arya -” protested Sansa, but Arya cut her off with a withering look.

“We have plans to make, stupid,” said Arya, glancing back at their brothers and Theon meaningfully. Sansa fell silent until Arya they arrived at Arya’s chambers. Sansa sat down primly on the edge of Arya’s bed, and Arya sat cross-legged next to her.

“You said you wanted Ramsay Bolton dead first,” she said to Sansa. Sansa nodded. “Then let’s make a plan.”

“He’s in the Dreadfort,” said Sansa dully. “How do you plan to get to the Dreadfort to kill him?”

Arya worried her bottom lip. “Father needs to meet with his bannermen sometimes,” said Arya. “If we can arrange for Father to ride to the Dreadfort, I can go with him.”

“Arya…” said Sansa. “If you don’t manage it, if he catches you in the act – you’re not going to get out of there. He’ll kill you – and that’s the best case scenario.”

Arya scoffed. “He won’t catch me.” She was Arya Underfoot, the Cat of the Canals, trained by Faceless Men – some Bolton bastard wasn’t going to catch her.

“He might,” insisted Sansa. “I can’t let you. I won’t let you fall into his hands. I won’t.”

“He won’t catch me,” repeated Arya. “He won’t even have a reason to suspect me, because I’ll just be a little girl as far as he knows. He won’t know anything else until it’s too late.”

“He killed Rickon!” cried Sansa. “If anyone should have been safe from him, it was Rickon, because no one even knew where he was, but he found Rickon and he murdered him right in front of Jon. I can’t lose you, too, not to Ramsay.”

“Listen to me,” said Arya, pulling Sansa’s face around so that Sansa was looking straight at her. “You are Sansa of House Stark, Lady of Winterfell and Princess in the North. You survived Joffrey and Cersei. You retook Winterfell and you fed Ramsay Bolton to his own dogs. You outplayed Littlefinger and sentenced him to die.” Sansa’s eyes were teary as she stared back at Arya. “I’m Arya Stark. I escaped King’s Landing when every gold cloak in the city was searching for me. I survived Harrenhal and served Tywin Lannister as his cupbearer without him realising a thing. I trained with the Faceless Men and I escaped them. If anyone can kill Ramsay before he can kill us, we can. Do you hear me, Sansa? We can do this.”

“I’m so scared, Arya,” whispered Sansa. “I think of everything we have to do, and I think of Petyr and Ramsay and Joffrey being out there right now, and it’s like I can’t breathe. There’s so much to do.”

“We have help,” said Arya. “We have Mother and Father, Robb and Jon. We even have Theon, however much use he is. It isn’t just you, Sansa.”

Sansa closed her eyes and whispered to herself, “I am Sansa of House Stark, the blood of Winterfell. I can be brave.”

“You are brave,” corrected Arya.

Sansa opened her eyes. “Not like you.”

“You could have fled to Essos and been shot of everything after you fled from Ramsay,” said Arya. “I talked to Jon; I know he considered it when he first woke up. But you didn’t. You went right back to Winterfell and you dragged Jon with you and you took it back for us. That was brave, Sansa. That’s one of the bravest things I’ve ever heard of.”

Sansa looked away. “We need to talk about what we’re going to do about Jon Arryn.”

Arya narrowed her eyes at the abrupt subject change, but let the subject drop. “We need to warn him,” she said.

Sansa took a deep breath. “Do we?”

Arya frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Everything we know about the political situation in the future stems from Jon Arryn dying,” said Sansa. “Father becoming Hand, the War of the Five Kings – it wouldn’t have happened without Jon Arryn dying.”

“So we let him die?” asked Arya, aghast.

“I -” Sansa paused, then said, “I’m scared of what will happen if we save him. Stannis and Renly will likely go to war when Robert dies either way, but who does Jon Arryn support? If he supports Stannis, do more Houses side with Stannis? What if he supports Joffrey? We don’t know what kind of effect he’ll have.”

“Then we’ll work it out,” said Arya. “Gods, Sansa, you’re one of the most experienced people I know. If anyone can manoeuvre around Jon Arryn, it’s you. It’s not like he’s a second Littlefinger.”

“But that’s another thing,” said Sansa. “If we warn him, and Littlefinger gets wind of it, then he knows someone knows his plans and is interfering with them.”

“He’ll have to know it at some point, unless you’re planning on letting things go unchanged right up until I cut his throat,” said Arya.

Sansa looked down at her hands. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I’m just…”

“We don’t have to sign the letter,” offered Arya. “If you’re worried, we can even make a seal with Littlefinger’s emblem on it and use that to seal it. Now that will throw Littlefinger off.”

Sansa barked out a surprised laugh, then leaned over and hugged Arya. “Don’t let me be too cautious,” she murmured into Arya’s ear. “We need to be careful, but we need to change some things. Keep me remembering that.”

Arya sighed and said, “You’ll have to remind me to be more careful, then.”

“I will,” promised Sansa.

“The first time round, in King’s Landing, Father told me that we needed each other, even though we were different as the sun and the moon,” said Arya. “I didn’t really believe him. I never would have even dreamed of – this.” She held her arms out wide to gesture around the room.

“We’ll do better this time,” vowed Sansa. “The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.”

When the time came for them to hear Theon’s sentence, Arya stood next to Sansa. Theon was fidgeting anxiously as he waited, and Arya noticed Sansa had knitted her fingers together like she was keeping herself from reaching out to comfort him.

“After what Sansa told me, I knew there was little I could do to punish Theon,” said Ned. “Even execution would not be the first time he experienced death – he has already died, and in service of Bran, at that. There is little to nothing that I could to Theon that he has not already experienced, and I have no wish to be like Ramsay Snow.

“Theon does need to make amends, however. He did serious harm to people, even if they will never know the true extent of the harm. It is for that reason I am commanding Theon to act as Ser Rodrik’s squire.”

“That’s a boy’s job,” said Robb, not quite as a protest.

“It is,” replied Ned blandly. “He will also aid Maester Luwin in educating Bran and Rickon. You harmed people, Theon. Now is your time to make up for it by making their lives better and easier than they were in your last life.”

Arya bit her lip. It didn’t feel like enough, somehow. But she couldn’t help thinking of Sansa’s fear of Ramsay – maybe that same fear would have to be enough punishment for Theon.

Sansa let out a happy, high-pitched squeak, throwing herself forwards to wrap Theon in a hug. He caught her at the last moment, holding her fast.

“There is one other thing,” said Ned. Sansa and Theon let go of each other to look at Ned. “I want you to tell me everything you know about Ramsay Snow.”

Arya smiled. Now that was something she could work with.

-

The candles were burning low in Sansa’s chambers when she heard the knock at the door.

“Mother,” greeted Sansa when she opened the door. Catelyn was standing in the hall outside, hairbrush in her hand.

“We haven’t had much of a chance to talk,” said Catelyn. “I thought…” She lifted the hairbrush in her hand.

Sansa felt the smile spread across the face before she could even think about it. Tears stung at her eyes. She opened the door further. “I would like that, Mother.”

Catelyn smiled, surprisingly shy. Sansa led her back to the mirror, where she sat in the chair. Catelyn stood behind her, carefully unravelling the braids in Sansa’s hair.

“Your father told me a little of what you said to him today,” said Catelyn. “Not enough to betray your confidence, but enough for me to understand – for me to understand what you did to him.”

Sansa closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath. She opened them again and met her mother’s eyes in the mirror. “He was a monster.”

Catelyn began to run the brush through Sansa’s hair, gentle and slow. “I never wanted that for you,” she said. “I hoped that you would have a marriage like mine and your father’s. We may not have loved each other to begin with, but we were able to build it over the years, stone by stone.”

“Ramsay would rather have torn it down and ground each stone into a dust,” said Sansa.

Catelyn stopped and placed the hairbrush on the dresser. She knelt down beside Sansa and said, very seriously, “He will never touch you again. I promise you that.”

Sansa swallowed hard. If Ramsay did ever come near her, Arya would murder him. Arya had already promised as much. (She wasn’t so sure that Arya would go to as much trouble to rescue Theon, but at least for now if Ramsay went near Theon, he would be going near Sansa, thus incurring Arya’s wrath.) It had hardly helped when Arya promised it, and neither did Catelyn’s.

“I know,” said Sansa, because none of her thoughts would help. Catelyn nodded, took her hand and squeezed it before standing back up and taking up the hairbrush again.

“I can’t believe that my sister married you to him,” said Catelyn, the hairbrush flowing through Sansa’s hair once again.

Sansa’s heart seized in her chest. She could tell Catelyn. She could tell her mother the truth about Petyr. It would be so, so easy to open her mouth and tell Catelyn what Littlefinger was. But she couldn’t quite get the words out.

“It was a mistake,” said Sansa. “I don’t think she knew how – what he was. We thought that Stannis would retake Winterfell. We thought that I would be there for when Stannis came, ready to be made Lady of Winterfell. We didn’t know. No one did.”

“We do, now,” said Catelyn. Sansa offered her a tiny smile in the mirror.

Sansa sat in silence for several moments before she said, “You shouldn’t be so hard on Jon.”

The steady movement of the brush in Sansa’s hair faltered. “He took your birth right,” said Catelyn, a hard edge to her voice. “I warned Ned time and time again. He always ignored me, but he did it. He’ll do it again, in this timeline.”

“He saved me,” said Sansa, twisting around in her chair to look at Catelyn. “If he was what you think, he could have tossed me back out of Castle Black and handed me right back to Ramsay. He stayed with me, though, and he helped me to rally the North.”

“And why was he able to leave Castle Black with you?” asked Catelyn. “He deserted. He should have been executed for it, not crowned king.”

“He died,” said Sansa flatly. “He was stabbed in the chest by his own men for letting the Wildlings south of the Wall, and a Red Priestess raised him from the dead. He gave his life. He fulfilled his vows, and then he came south and helped me to retake Winterfell.”

“Sansa…”

“I spent years as a hostage in King’s Landing, then when I escaped, I was sold to Ramsay Bolton,” said Sansa, blinking back tears. “Jon was the first family member I had seen since Father was executed. I asked him where he was going to go when he left Castle Black and he insisted the right question was where we would go. He protected me when nobody else did, besides Brienne. He’s a good man, Mother.”

“Boy,” said Catelyn, more automatically than anything. “He’s a boy.”

“Not for long,” whispered Sansa, leaning back in her chair. She closed her eyes, letting Catelyn run the brush through her long, auburn hair. The future was rushing in on them. There was no hiding from the White Walkers, not even here.

[agirlinhell]

OKAY SO I’VE HAD A LOT OF ASOIAF / GOT RP BLOGS FOLLOWING ME LATELY AND I JUST HAVE TO LET YOU ALL KNOW THAT CLEMENTINE HAS SEVERAL VERSES, IN DIFFERENT ERAS AND IN DIFFERENT FACTIONS OF THE SERIES. I mostly follow book canon, as I’ve read all the books and I’ve watched all the seasons, but I am also show friendly, as well. I will be using Amandla Stenberg, Nyane Lebajoa and Indya Marie as her faceclaims. As this is A Song Of Ice And Fire / Game Of Thrones, there will naturally be explicit and mature content in a variety of different ways. She is bisexual, as in canon. There are six verses in all.

Although, they are not officially in my verses quite yet, allow me to elaborate them for you. Long post under the cut!

#1: Clementine is a skinchanger and a spearwife beyond the Wall whilst possessing greensight. She’s lived among the Free Folk all her life and was born near Hardhome. When she and the entire horde of the Free Folk are being driven south by the Others. she’s actually quite capable of defending herself even for a small girl, she’s taken out a few lone wights by herself. Clementine had faced the wrath of the likes of rangers of the Night’s Watch, slavers from the eastern cities, Hornfoots and Nightrunners, men and women of the Frozen Shore, men of the Ice-river clans who feasted on human flesh, snowbears, shadowcats and even other wargs. But worst of all the enemies she had fought were the wights, those moving corpses who only devoured the flesh of the living without a second thought. The girl had seen the likes of giants and mammoths, and she could see through the eyes of the beasts of the land and the birds in the skies, things that the girls of the south would hardly begin to imagine. Yet, at only age sixteen, she had managed to survive long enough to make it to The Wall. She wonders what the lands are like Beyond The Wall, survival is all she’s ever known. When the Free Folk are brought south of The Wall, Clementine is being taught how to read by Shireen Baratheon and the maesters at Castle Black. She has a shadowcat for a companion and can warg into it and take over its body as its host. The Free Folk both fear her and respect her, and several of the men of the Night’s Watch can say the same. Some think that she is descended from the Children of The Forest because of her golden eyes, but that is up to speculation. To put it very simply, this is her verse for any muses from the North or Beyond The Wall. I can easily see her being tangled up with Melisandre or the Boltons, perhaps she can possibly help Jeyne Poole escape Winterfell? She is age sixteen in this verse. This verse will be tagged as v; I MAY BE YOUR PRISONER BUT I AM A FREE WOMAN. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || THE FREE FOLK. )

#2: Clementine is a Princess of the Summer Isles. She serves Queen Margaery Tyrell as a lady in-waiting while serving as an intermediary between the Iron Throne and the Summer Isles as a princess of one of the isles and is one of their representatives so that trade between Westeros and the Summer Isles can continue further. Clementine is of Rhoynar, Summer Islander and Naathi descent. From a young age, she had been taught how to fight with a spear and shoot with her goldenheart bow and arrows that could pierce through even steel plate, as in the Summer Isles, women are considered equal to men. At age sixteen, she is well versed in many languages, the arts of love, music, song, dance and war. She leaves the Summer Isles on a swan ship to The Reach to broker a deal with the Hightowers at Oldtown at a young age while accompanied by an entourage of her own, and Alerie Hightower selected her to be one of ladies in waiting at Highgarden. Clem travels with Margaery and her relatives all throughout the events of The War of The Five Kings until they reach King’s Landing. When Margaery is betrothed to Joffrey Baratheon, Clementine is introduced in court, as well, and is seen as an exotic beauty by much of the court. She gets a lot of requests for marriage or simply sharing her bed from many lords of Westeros, including but not limited to Jhalabar Xho, Aurane Waters, Willam Wythers, Perros Blackmont and Daemon Sand, because many want the riches and treasures that the Summer Isles provide, and Clementine is an attractive young lady, something she will use to her advantage in court. ( **Note: this is what happens in my portrayal, if you portray any of these muses, this does not need to happen. )

She wears the feather capes that the Summer Islanders are known for and her loose silken diaphanous gowns from Naath, her hair is adorned with a myriad of butterflies and flowers in her hair and dressed in brilliantly colored feathers of exotic birds, silks, seashells and gemstones - rubies, sapphires, emeralds and pearls, along with the gowns and Myrish lace that Westeros provides when serving Queen Margaery Tyrell. Yet her heart always lies with her home. Afterward, she intends to venture to the Temples of Love in the isles and allow others to share her bed, as was expected of her and all other individuals on the isles, male or female, lowborn or highborn, as a way of worshiping her gods. She keeps to the gods of the Summer Isles and the Lord of Harmony of Naath and she’s been rumored to practice water magic, but this is debatable. She will protect her Queen with her life if need be.

Her fellow companions at court are Megga, Alla, Elinor and Leona Tyrell, Margaery’s cousins, Alyn Ambrose, Alysanne Bulwer, Meredyth Crane, Alyce Graceford, Taena Merryweather of Myr, Leonette Fossoway, Mira Forrester, Sara Durwell / Flowers and Septa Nysterica, a sister of the Faith. Through it all, even though she finds King’s Landing fascinating at first, she grows to yearn for her motherland… and learns that the capital is a pit of vipers. In A Feast For Crows, Clementine is accused of lewdness, fornication and high treason by The Faith and is arrested for crimes she did not commit. In a Dance With Dragons, Clementine’s currently awaiting her trial alongside the queen’s within the Sept of Baelor. To put it very simply, this verse is for King’s Landing and any shenanigans that may occur there, and it will be tagged as: v; YOU SHOULD SEE ME IN A CROWN. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || KING'S LANDING. )

#3:Clementine is a dragonrider, sorceress and noblewoman of the Valyrian Freehold, a daughter of the ancient House Targaryen, of the union of Aenar Targaryen and a princess from the Summer Isles. Keeping to the Gods of Old Valyria and the Deities of the Summer Isles, she finds herself praying to both deities, never truly having a preference of any of them over the other. One of the most striking things about her physical appearance are her violet eyes and her silver hair from her Valyrian ancestry, yet her skin tone is purely Summer Islander. It seems her lady mother won the genetics lottery. Clem has a good standing relationship with her half-siblings and most notably in Daenys Targaryen who would later to be known as Daenys the Dreamer renowned for foreseeing the Doom of Valyria twelve years prior to it’s fiery downfall. Clementine is dragonrider to the dragoness Zalliel. They practically grew up together from the time she was only an infant girl in her crib, as she’d been holding her egg to keep it warm. Zalliel, like her rider, had a thirst for adventure and freedom. Although not the warlike type, the dragoness would fight to the very bitter end to protect her rider. Her lord father, Aenar Targaryen, had paid a fine amount of gold for one of the best blacksmiths in the Freehold to make his youngest daughter a Valyrian steel sword, as Clementine had a intrigue for blades and the art of war, despite her calm and gentle exterior. Her lord father always knew that she had a fire burning in her heart. Clementine named this blade Dark Sister and so when she soared into the battlefield on dragonback, she would be seen fighting with it, as well as using one of her lady mother’s goldenheart bows and arrows. Clementine is a warrior through and through, and the blade has passed down to the future generations of House Targaryen, such as Queen Visenya Targaryen, Maegor Targaryen, Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lord Brynden Rivers, to which the sword is now lost to history.

Clementine was born - and grew up - within Valyria, and magic was at its height in the capital and in all the known world. At its apex Valyria was the greatest city in the known world, the center of civilization. Within its shining walls, twoscore rival houses vied for power and glory in court and council, rising and falling in an endless, subtle, oftsavage struggle for dominance. She enjoyed much of her childhood and adolescence there, loving to soar around the seemingly topless towers in the city, or spending time with her family in Lys. She kept monkeys, apes, panther cubs, and parrots from the Summer Isles as pets. She was taught in the arts of love and war, in many languages and was taught how in the magical arts by several sorcerers and mages hired by her lord father and lady mother. She is of Summer Islander, Naathi, Rhoynar and Valyrian descent, and was a member of the Young Dragons faction of Valyria. House Targaryen at the time was not considered a powerful house, compared to the forty other noble families of Valyria, but Clem cared little for court politics, but she was seen as a beauty amongst the dragonlords. In the Freehold, dragons were usually tamed with dragonhorns, sorcery and whips, but Clementine disliked the cruelty and thus attached herself to Zalliel in other ways, by way of kindness and companionship. After Daenys the Dreamer prophesied that Valyria would be destroyed, Aenar sold his holdings in the Valyrian Freehold and the Lands of the Long Summer, and moved with all his family, wives, wealth, slaves, and dragons, with House Velaryon and House Celtigar following behind them to Dragonstone, a bleak island citadel beneath the Dragonmont, a smoking mountain in the narrow sea. The Targaryens were far from the most powerful of the dragonlords, and their rivals in Valyria saw their flight as an act of cowardice. However, because Aenar had moved his family away from Valyria, the Targaryens were the only dragonlords to survive the Doom in 114 BC and the following Century of Blood. 

Clementine, however, was unhappy with the whole ordeal, feeling as if her entire future was being torn away to rot and sit at the very westernmost precipice of the Valyrian Freehold - Dragonstone, especially near a place as foreign and strange as Westeros. She helped her family with their affairs in Essos, most predominantly in the wars of the Free Cities. After staying for a few years at Dragonstone, deciding to rebel against her father and refusing to stay any longer in the bleak citadel before she withered away, took all of her things and her dragon and soared away from Dragonstone to travel the known world. What happens to her afterward is still debated by the maesters of the Citadel to this day, and her adventures vary depending on the tale. Some say she had affairs with several Westerosi lords - and even ladies, others say she eventually united the Summer Isles under her rule - something that was uncommon amongst the islanders, while alternate sources claim she was a consort of a YiTish god-emperor. What is known, however, is that she’s had many lovers - both men and women - and several adventures in her life and eventually returned to Dragonstone by way of a ship and brought Dark Sister back to the ancestral home it belonged to, and that she lived a very long and natural life. To put it very simply, this verse is for any pre-ASOIAF / GOT characters before Aegon’s Conquest. The tag for this verse is:  v; I AM THE DRAGON'S DAUGHTER. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || THE VALYRIAN FREEHOLD. )

( Note: Slavery, incest and polygamy are all a part of Valyrian culture, especially amongst the nobles. Her father had many wives and Clementine\s half siblings, as was common in Valyria, married and had children together. Incest is common among the noble families of Valyria and even then they’re often political with no romance involved and Clementine is a noblewoman, so it’s entirely possible she may have been betrothed. Slavery exists in this time period and Valyria profited off of slavery. Please keep in mind that I tolerate NONE of these things as a mun, but it is something that does happen and I will not be sugarcoating it in my portrayal, but I will always tag it when mentioned. )

#4: Clementine is a lady of Dornish, Summer Islander, Naathi and Rhoynar descent and owes her allegiance to House Martell.  Although mostly underdeveloped in comparison to the rest of her verses, Clementine was born and grew up in the Summer Isles before being sent to Dorne as an older child as a negotiation agreement for trade, and she grows fond of Dorne while staying there. Eventually, she works together with Arianne Martell, the Sand Snakes and Arianne’s entourage to crown Myrcella Baratheon as true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms by Dornish law. In A Storm of Swords, she attends Ellaria Sand and Oberyn Martell and saw the consequences of the trial by combat go horribly wrong, with the Red Viper’s death having a critical blow on the Dornish. During the later parts of the books, she stays back in Dorne and attends Doran Martell with anything he might need, all while taking care of Princess Myrcella. To put it simply, this verse is mostly for interacting with characters from Dorne and mostly southern Westeros. The tag for this verse is v; SHE WHISPERS INTO THE EARS OF MEN. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || DORNE. )

#5: Clementine is a Princess of the Summer Isles, and was born and grew up in the isles. She was sent by her lord father to negotiate with the Free Cities on matters of trade... only to be kidnapped by Basilisk Isles raiders and to be sold as a slave in Meereen, first as a female fighter in the fighting pits, before being noticed by some of the Masters and being taken to the Temple of the Graces to be trained as a Red Grace - all of this against her will. When Daenerys Targaryen enters the scene, however, Clementine is one of the first women to raise the sword for the Dragon Queen. Daenerys frees her from her bondage as a slave and a Red Grace and Clementine has been loyal to her - and her entourage - since. This verse is used to interact with any muses of Slaver’s Bay or any individuals who are aligned with House Targaryen in the present time. It will be tagged as v; I'D RATHER DIE ON MY FEET THAN LIVE ON MY KNEES. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || SLAVER'S BAY. )

#6: Clementine is a young lady trained to become the next Black Pearl of Braavos, one of the most proeminent courtesans of the city.  From a very young age, she was educated and trained in various cultural pursuits such as art, music, poetry, calligraphy, song, dance, history, literature and flower and fan language. She’s an educated girl of good social standing, who is oft present at festivals and entertainments, and is hired as a mourner at funerals. She, like her lady mother, enjoys high status and is famous worldwide. She, like every other courtesan, has her own barge and servants to work them, as slavery does not exist in Braavos. Her beauty has inspired many a song and she is showered with gifts from goldsmiths and craftsmen beg for her custom. Nobility and rich merchants pay her large amounts of money to appear alongside them at events, merchant princes pay royal ransom to have her on their arms at balls, feasts and mummer shows and bravos are known to kill each other in her name.

She is famous, respected and wealthy and enjoy a kind of celebrity status as well as a certain kind of mystique, and she is cultured and beautiful. She sleeps on rose petals and wears silken skirts that rustle when she walks, and great lords beggar themselves for her maiden’s blood. She can trace her descent through the female line to the daughter of Bellegere Otherys, a pirate queen who was the first Black Pearl, and King Aegon IV Targaryen, and thus the earlier generations of the Targaryen Dynasty as a whole, as well as having other bloodlines such as having royal descent of both a Princess of the Summer Isles and a Sealord of Braavos. She dresses in charcoal grey, purple, blues so dark that are almost black, and blacks as dark as moonlight. Clementine is age sixteen and is still in the process of following her mother’s footsteps. This verse is used for muses of Western Essos, moreso the Free Cities and particularly Braavos, but Clementine can easily travel elsewhere. This verse is tagged as v; THE BLACK PEARL. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || BRAAVOS. )

[sylverkitsune]

Hey everyone ART DUMP TIME!

first and second: Tot and Gynny’s child that has been lovingly named Santina and she sings a lot in atlantean.

third and fourth: Bottled Up version of Stella and normal Stella’s pet white lipped island pit viper fae dragon, Dew Stream.

fifth: I got bored at home and i did a goth chick appreciation day pic 

sixth: Fae!Inola in the house!

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Hmm... 4? :)

Learn About the Lore of my Fanfic

House Araval of High Hill–we see, we hear, we know

One of very few Noble Houses outside of The North to claim First Men blood who still maintain a bit of the typical “first men look.” House Araval is lauded as one of the oldest Houses of the Westerlands, and richest second only to House Lannister.

House Araval has, historically, been land barons and most Noble Houses within the Westerlands have at least a little bit of land purchased from House Araval. They are also known for a deep, long lasting rivalry with House Lannister.

All members of the House are preceded by a reputation of pride and wisdom. The House possesses the Valyrian Steel sword known as Widowmaker.

House Brimsblood of Scarwood Keep–by any means necessary

A Rhoynish house that branched off from House Gargalen in 639 BC, and even the modern House Brimsblood maintains a very strong Rhoynish look.

Early in the House’s history they founded the Pit Viper Mercenaries: a renowned group of warriors known for unsurpassed martial skill. It is not uncommon for members of House Brimsblood to join the mercenary company even now.

House Brimsblood is also known for unorthodox inheritance traditions, even for Dorne. Instead of the title Lord or Lady Brimsblood being given to the oldest child, it is given to who is deemed the most worthy by the current head of the House (by criteria of their own choosing).

House Brimsblood has maintained the double headed battle axe, originally wielded by their founder Roqhan the Bloodless, as a ceremonial weapon that is to be exclusively used by the current head of House.

House Brine of The Spire–forged in adversity

A relatively small, but fairly influential, Ironborn House known for their distinctive looks and ferocity in battle. During the height of power for the Iron Islands, House Brine was one of the most feared Houses by those on mainland Westeros.

Ever since the unification of the Iron Islands with the rest of Westeros, House Brine has maintained a strong naval presence.

Most members of House Brine will have a relatively short stature, solid build, green eyes, and hair ranging from auburn to bright red.

House Clement of The Iron Halls–the strong survive

A large, strong, and martially competent Northern House who claims decent from the mythic warrior Marack the Bull and the sister of Brandon the Builder. The blood of the First Men flows strongly in their veins and, in spite of close proximity to The Neck, most members of House Clement are tall in stature.

House Clement is known throughout the seven kingdoms for impressive and reliable war horses of intimidating size. In The North, they are known for a jovial nature and strong ties to House Stark, making House Clement some of their chief banner men.

The House possesses the Valyrian Steel sword known as Long Winter.

House Everbright of Northstar–ice in our veins

Like all Northern Noble Houses, House Everbright is known for strong ties to the First Men. Up until the Conquest House Everbright continued to use The Old Tongue conversationally. The modern House Everbright does not hold much claim to fame outside of their history and occasionally unique looks.

In it’s history, House Everbright was known to have commanded and ridden ice dragons and warging was a relatively common ability. In the past 200 years, however, there have been no ice dragons or magically inclined Everbrights.

While House Everbright maintains a typical look for most Northerners (dark hair with gray or blue eyes) it is not uncommon for them to have completely or partially white hair, or to have eyes that reach an uncanny shade of bright blue.

House Grey of Moonstone–steadfast in duty

A small, relatively weak, Vale House; there is not much remarkable about House Grey, as they would be viewed somewhere on the “third tier” of nobility within Westeros.

The most important contribution to the economy of the Seven Kingdoms is a small number of large stone quarries that have been owned by House Grey since their founding.

While they had held a bit more influence in their history, the modern House’s reputation is tainted by having supported House Targaryen during Robert’s Rebellion.

House Ironbark of High Pine–reap what you sow

Similarly to House Grey of The Vale, House Ironbark is small and relatively weak.

The main claims of House Ironbark are of a presence in the production of Ironwood goods along with House Forrester, with whom they frequently intermarry.

House Orlion of Ivory Hold–fire in our hearts

While new in the grand scheme of things, the founder of House Orlion having only come to Westeros from Tyrosh three generations ago, House Orlion has made quite the name for itself. Their founder, Nyessapho Orlion, quickly established himself and set his descendants on a path towards becoming powerful and wealthy merchants.

A reputation of wealth, cutthroat business practices, and influence follows the House.

House Shield of Helmsford Hold–first in battle

Although House Shield has only existed for the past 200 years, they were quickly picked up by House Targaryen due to the unwavering loyalty of their founder: Ser Rohar the White Knight.

Over the course of the Targaryen Dynasty House Shield gathered an intimidating amount of political influence, rising far above their start as Landed Knights. Over the 200 years of Targaryen rule, House Shield served as advisors to the kings in various capacities.

Within the past 16 years following the start of the Baratheon Dynasty there have only been two living members of House Shield who have their whereabouts known: Dasina (wife of the late Visemarr Veltheos) and Brydan (ward of Lord Castor Brine).

House Veltheos of Amethystine Keep–born of fire and steel

A Valyrian House of Dragonlords who arrived in Westeros prior to Aegon I and once held a kingdom in part of The Riverlands and Crownlands. Their dragons were killed and kingdom revoked during the reigns of Maegor I and Jaehaerys I Targaryen. Ever since this, House Veltheos has harbored a deep seated resentment of House Targaryen and a yearning for their glory prior to this slight.

House Veltheos is known for having nearly as tumultuous a history House Targaryen, but not near as much madness due to the revoking of their kingdom and outside marriages putting an end to brother/sister unions. The House manages to maintain the typical Valyrian looks in spite of this.

In spite of the rivalries with both House Targaryen and House Tully, House Veltheos has managed to stay influential and carry quite a bit of political weight.

The House maintains two of their three Valyrian artifacts: the sword Firebrand wielded by King Gaehaemion I and a shield used by his sister-wife Queen Ilyana I. The sword Silencer, wielded by their brother Prince Visemarr has been lost since 213 AC.

[writingsofwesteros]

Ok so we’ve talked about garden girl with daemon but what about garden girl with Aemond?

GG could still be the second daughter of viserys and Aemma, more close in age to Rhaenyra or she could be (mirroring daemon and GG’s relationship) the youngest child of baelon and Alyssa, viserys and daemon’s sister.

Visenya (Alyssa died giving birth to an Aegon, right? And there’s already a Rhaenys around) grows up in the shadows of her older brothers, always feeling the blame of her mothers death on her shoulders. It only gets worse when her father dies because while he could never bring himself to look at her face or interact too much with her, she was the youngest child of the crown Prince.

But the baelon dies and the great council happens, driving a huge wedge between the two halves of the family. Princess Rhaenys was one of visenya’s best friends - both Targaryen daughters with heavy names.

But after the council, Rhaenys takes her children and lives permanently on Driftmark, taking with her the last shreds of visenya’s childhood. Cause now she moves from being a daughter to a would be king to the sister of one and somehow that makes all the difference.

Maybe in this universe Aemma had already passed away, giving Viserys Rhaenyra with her life and viserys has already remarried to alicent (hand waving away the weird ages) who has given birth to Aegon and helaena already, at the council visibly pregnant with another (Aemond)

After the great council, visenya lasts a year in the viper pit of the court before she flees for her isolated island.

Viserys’s kids grow up the same way, Rhaenyra heir above her brother, Otto scheming to get Aegon on the throne…

But this time it’s Laena and Laenor who gives Aemond his scar. He went and claimed Vhager before Laena could and she’s 15 and furious and Laenor loves his sister and has been poisoned against the green kids by his family

Viserys again does nothing - he doesn’t want to upset the second most powerful house in the realm.

In fact he does something worse - he promises Laenor to Rhaenyra as the future king consort.

Aemond isn’t surprised - he’s the second son to the second wife and viserys has never cared for his green kids

So kings landing gets worse and worse, until one day when Aemond is nearly 20 and now being pressured to marry to help secure Aegon’s bid to the throne - Aemond takes off on Vhager during one of the worse storms ever

He crash lands on Visenya’s island and is shocked to meet this beautiful aunt who’s been used as a warning to all the young dragon riders - don’t go flying during a storm or you’ll be killed just like visenya was.

Instead, he finds this soft motherly woman, with her gardens and her animals and her dragon, nursing him back to health, caring about him and his wounds and all his problems…

Well, his family did want him to marry didn’t they?

💋

MIF ALERT without the M part ;)

I love this !!! You know Aemond just melts for her and never wants to leave the island

The shock when he returns a year later maybe (he'll blame the storm) they are married and a babe ;)

[theotherpages]

Poison Isle

Prologue, Part v, from Wanderers, Book 3 of The Republic of Dreams

          Despite its infamous reputation, Chacachacare was a tiny place - a mere speck of an island off the coast of Trinidad. It was one of the Dragon’s Teeth - the chain of islands and submerged seamounts strung across the northern entrance of the Gulf of Paria between Trinidad and Venezuela. Small as it was, it had held the number one position on the list of most dangerous places on earth for most of a century.

          In the years preceding the Last War, a Swiss pharmaceutical firm had leased the island in its entirety, raised its elevation with extensive landfill, and built a research laboratory. Or at least, they claimed to be a pharmaceutical company. In reality they were developing biological weapons - using the native Manchineel trees and their poisonous fruit as a starting point. 

          The Swiss biologists also experimented with the venom of Bothrops asper, a pit viper found in abundance locally, and with Phoneutria nigriventer, a spider whose venom was particularly toxic to humans. In a very short time, through genetic modifications, they developed substantially more dangerous versions of all three species that produced virulent, fast-acting neurotoxins. 

          Just as they were congratulating themselves on their success, and dreaming about the lucrative markets their potential products would find among countries and disruptor groups looking for ever-more potent weapons, something happened. There are no records of what happened exactly, but tree pollen and spider eggs are microscopic in size and easily carried by air currents. And baby snakes, while not microscopic, can be very persistent in trying to find a route to freedom. Life does whatever it must to survive in this world. 

          As any philosopher, or a good statistician could have foreseen, there is hubris in assuming that mankind can play God, and subvert nature to his own purposes in a way that can be fully controlled. While the exact sequence of events is unknown, what is clear is that one day the laboratory went dark. Two investigative teams sent to the island never returned. Drones sent to the island sent back telemetry of grossly contorted bodies, strangely discolored and covered in huge, ruptured blisters seeping inky-black ichor. A hazmat suited team sent to retrieve their remains a few weeks later returned with nightmarish stories that spread widely among the local population, and across the Caribbean.

          The entire island was quarantined and sprayed with aggressive herbicides and pesticides to kill the snakes and spiders, but the weaponized plants and their animal counterparts proved impervious and rapidly covered the island. Its dense, lush, green appearance belied the dangers within. Trinidad evacuated adjacent Monos and Huevos Islands and clear-cut both islands and the nearby shoreline on Trinidad itself and patrolled these areas regularly to ensure that no Manchineel trees were able to take root.

          For a century the weaponized species proliferated and mutated and grew ever more toxic. No one set foot on Chacachacare again, until one day, almost a century later, when a daring group of researchers secretly came in search of the very poisons the island was feared for. Strangely, their mission had nothing at all to do with war or violence. They were interested in chocolate

[theserandomcharacters]

Balati’s Partners.

I know what Balati has is essentialy a harem of ladies 

KEY: Name - Type of Naga based on snake species* - Characteristics.

*Click on the name for an image of the snake mentioned!

(More Info Under the Cut)

Murala - Green Anaconda - The naga equivalent to an amazonian woman, dwarfing Balati at 9 ft standing. (Her length from tail to hips is 8 ft long). Brings home the meat if Balati is unable. They both share similar gross kinks and use that when having some fun time. Often times, Balati and her settle for tail-fucking and then lotsa snuggles afterwards. Doms Balati in most encounters. Can be subjected to Top frenzy. She loves to swim and is a big eater.

Jokumri - Burmese Python - Gentle “giant”. Would pick kisses and cuddles over sex. Makes an exception for teasing. She does have sensitive boobs perfect for Balati to fondle. She’s great at swimming and climbing, making her very adaptable to swamp-like areas. She often uses her climbing to get avian prey.

Vhakarsi - Pearl Island Boa - The artisan of body art. She’s mainly responsible for Balati’s various tribal facial marks. Hypomelanistic skin as well as scales. Into sensation play, light rope bondage, shibari and spanking. She’s big eater ever since she was a baby. 

Furhuko - White-Lipped Island Pit Viper - Hyperactive and somewhat bratty. She’s also light on her tail and petite in stature. She loves being spoiled outside and inside the bedroom and self-describes herself as a pillow princess. DON’T LET HER BITE!

Lirayu - Scarlet Kingsnake - Look like she could kill you but is a softie. Very shy. Be gentle with her. Finds comfort in fiddling/styling other’s hair.

Yuliko - Variable Reed Snake - Camouflage expert. Voyeurism/Spectating is her bread and butter, Is often submissive with Balati and other ladies but can boss you around if wanted to,

Urmokhai - Albino Corn Snake - The Softest and Squishiest. Most vanilla in terms of kinks. Loves food! Very sensitive skin! Least likely to lash out.

Sephku - Sharp-Nosed Pit Viper - Snooty Lady. Loves to dom Balati and powerplay. Waxplay is also a thing she likes (both giving and receiving.) DON’T LET HER BITE EITHER! One of a kind and she knows it. 

Tenkuhi - Phillppines Pit Viper - DON’T LET HER BITE!!! SHE’LL ASK YOU AND BEG BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SAY NO!!!!! Hypnotic red eyes. Loves having it rough, waxplay and even fireplay. 

Tarho - Dragon Snake - Picky eater. Is only awake at night. Rest of her body except her face is all her scales. Easily startled and will stiffen up if so. Cautious and gentle love-making will do just fine. Prefers dimly-lit setting for sexual intercourse.

Makardi - Common Purple-Glossed Snake - Natural digger. Very particular tastes for other lizards. Subject to subdrop so cuddles and reassurance after play is vital. Often keeps to herself around other nagas. Has a past that she doesn’t want to talk about too often.

Maotza - Red-Bellied Black Snake - DON’T LET HER BITE!! Knows how to look threatening, but isn’t too terribly confrontational. Will take a lot of foreplay to get into the mood. 

Perdeuxa - Velvet Green Night Adder - A little on edge - not afraid to fuck you up if she feels threatened. Most adaptable out of all the nagas (Balati included). Is game for a lot of fetishes.

Micharu - Indochinese Spitting Cobra - Night Owl. Coward by day, Defensive by night. Has a bad spitting habit.

Kulone - Greater Green Snake - Connoisseur for insects. Loves bright and shiny jewelry to match her bright green scales!