#platonic emerald city

[tecnestheim962]

Emerald in Vacuo at some point probably:

Emerald: I’ve only known this kid for a day and a half, but if anything (else) happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

Nora: You know, I might actually be starting to like you.

Bonus:

*after Emerald’s statement*

Ozpin: *somehow sipping his hot cocoa from within Oscar’s consciousness* I second that statement.

Oscar: Wh- Oz how would that even be possib-

Ozpin: I. Second. That. Statement.

[angstandhappiness]

NICE

Things I want Emerald to go through in the upcoming volumes, especially with Oscar 😌

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Oscar: What’s sexting?

Emerald: I'm not having this conversation with you.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

A Dragon Does Now Bow Down 🐉 | HOTD Imagine P.1

GOT/HOTD masterlist | | Part 2

Characters & Pairings: Targaryen/Lannister!OC—Daerra Targaryen x the Greens (platonic) & the Blacks (platonic)

Content Warnings: follows episodes 1-7 of S.1, fluff (between oc and kids) angst, implied character death, blood, violence, dysfunctional family dynamics, eventual B&C, slight canon divergence | female!OC (she/her) | wc: 8k

Premise: The House of the Dragon is an impenetrable force when standing together. Bound by love, duty, and sacrifice. But when sides are drawn between kin, not even the glue that holds them together can withstand.

Note: this is a direct result of an AU idea I had where the children of the Greens had an actual motherly figure who cared for them and was also a neutral party between the Greens & Blacks. So yeah, I’m sorry this will be more angsty and dark in part 2.

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

Hand turns loom; spool of green, spool of black; dragons of flesh weaving dragons of thread.

It was believed by the Wise King Jaehaerys I that the only thing that could tear down the house of the dragon was itself. Oh how right he was. 

The threat of war loomed over with each passing moon. Bringing unease to his youngest grandchild, Daerra.

Born to his daughter Gael in 95 AC when she was only ten and five. The only legitimate child to her marriage to a lord of House Lannister who shared Targaryen heritage. He died shortly after her birth resulting in Gael returning to the Red Keep where she raised the babe with her siblings and cousins. They took a liking to Daerra--especially the Good Queen Alysanne. Her older cousins; Rhaenys, Viserys, and Daemon were around at times. Mainly at family gatherings since they were all 15+ years older than Daerra. 

A Targaryen beauty with signature attributes to Lannisters, Daerra was a sight to behold. Silver hair she often kept short and curly, and piercing green eyes that resemble emeralds. While her father may have been a Lannister, she only ever referred to herself as a Targaryen. Only ever wearing the colors of red and black. 

Unfortunately Daerra would know loss again at the age of four, when her mother drowned herself in the Blackwater Bay following the stillbirth of her younger brother. From then on, Daerra was under the care of her cousins Aemma and Viserys, who had their young daughter, Rhaenyra, two years prior to Gael’s death. Raising them like sisters since the couple were not blessed with another child by the Gods. 

As children up until adolescence the two were like peas in a pod, though they had their differences. Both enjoyed riding their dragons, though never together. Rhaenyra with her golden queen Syrax, and Daerra with the ferocious Cannibal. Whose eyes were a stunning green as though they were filled with Wildfire. Matching Daerra so closely, it made people wonder if it were the reason the wild beast surrendered to her. Earning her the title, ‘Daerra the Daring,’ when she claimed the mighty dragon on the eve of her tenth nameday at Dragonstone, after stumbling upon his nest when she ventured too far from the castle. Removing red from her wardrobe to only wear black with green trimming in honor of him. 

The bond between dragon and rider was something Daerra was taught by her grandmother the Good Queen. A longing feeling she desired to connect with their ancient heritage. Cannibal was a magnificent creature. When not on Dragonstone, Cannibal was free to roam the outskirts of the city away from the Dragonpit. 

So as to not cause an issue with his….particular taste for food. 

While Rhaenyra had to maintain the statue of a Princess, Daerra had much more freedom during childhood. Which in turn resulted in slight envy from the young heir. Daerra got to go to Dragonstone whenever she pleased so long as the King approved. She got to train under the Rogue Prince himself, Daemon--which fueled Rhaenyra’s jealousy, and learn to fight like a warrior. While Rhaenyra always had a book or quill in her hand, Daerra had a sword or her trusty leather whip. She was his protege. On her fifteenth name day, Lady Daerra was gifted a Valryian steel blade she named Destiny.

Daemon taught her strategy and ways to disarm a man. Not to mention he warned her of snakes in his brother's council.  

Speaking of the council, there were mixed reactions when it came to Daerra and the privileges her cousin gave her. Viserys didn’t rush to marry her off when she came of age, much to the displeasure of his Hand, Otto Hightower. The cunning man desperately wanted to rid the Red Keep of her when she grew to be a mini version of his political headache. Even tempted to offer his own son's hand, until whispers spread of young Lords attempting to court the Lady going missing. Fruitless accusations that were enough to ward off prospects. 

“Is it true,” Rhaenyra raced after Daerra, dressed in her riding gear as she brushed through the mane of her horse before departing to see her dragon. 

“What do you speak of, cousin?” 

Rhaenyra gave a pointed look, glancing over her shoulder before leaning closer to whisper, “People are saying you fed those men who tried to win your hand to Cannibal.” The princess received a snicker.

“So that is the rumor I’ve been hearing amongst the court,” her laugh was dry, turning slightly to face her cousin. “Don’t be foolish, Rhaenyra, he only eats his own,” Daerra denied, but her eyes told a different story. One the princess wasn’t sure she wanted to know. 

Whatever the truth was, it had the outcome Daerra wanted. And that was to avoid marriage for as long as possible. The main reason being when Viserys named his daughter the heir to the Iron Throne. Daerra was ten and seven, beaming with pride while masking the bubble of anxiety in her chest. Greedy Lords would race to win her hand, and offer up their daughters/sisters to the King now that his wife, Queen Aemma, was with the Gods. 

Daerra scoured the court intently. Observing everyone who crossed paths with the King. Particularly Otto Hightower and Corlys Velaryon, who both had young daughters and were ambitious for power. 

“Any ladies the object of your attention, dear cousin?” Daerra clasped her hands behind her back, matching Viserys pace along the gardens. He’d appeared solemn, stress making his features age. 

“Don’t tell me you dragged me out here to hear of my quarrels with marriage prospects. I thought you better than that, Daerra.” His tone was fond, almost fatherly like. Considering he practically raised her since she was four. The two were semi-close with each other.

The young woman snorted, “Oh, you know I prefer the training yard or the skies. But I worry for you.” She stops, making him do the same. The sun beating down brought heat to their skin as their thick clothing absorbed the rays. Illuminating their emerald and lilac eyes that would have any artist wanting to paint a portrait. “Daemon is off in the stepstones doing Gods knows what. Your council keeps bothering you about a wife--and for Rhaenyra to take a husband. Not to mention they still question your decision to name her your heir. Must be exhausting.”

“It is,” the King agrees with a sigh, looking down at his boots. Wishing nothing more than to return to his model of Old Valyria. “With everything happening, I find myself missing Aemma more than ever.” Daerra’s heart tightened, mirroring his saddened expression. Aemma was like a mother to her, raising her as a surrogate daughter following multiple failed pregnancies. 

“I as well. Queen Aemma was the heart of this family,” Daerra glanced up to the heavens, feeling a light breeze drift over them. “Her loss is felt within the Keep. And you should not rush to pledge yourself to another until you feel the time is right. Otherwise you are dooming the both of you.” 

Though she did not have experience with love, Daerra witnessed it throughout her life. The love her grandparents had with each other. The way Corlys and Rhaenys were. The devotion Viserys had to Aemma, and the stories of his parents, Baelon and Alyssa. Love matches were rare, but they existed. And if blessed, one may experience more than one in their lifetime. 

She had hoped that for Viserys. Unfortunately, her advice was met on deaf ears when he announced not long after his intent to marry Alicent Hightower. The daughter of his Hand, and dear friend to his own daughter. 

Daerra was enraged. Disgusted even. How could her cousin marry a girl the same age as Rhaenyra. Younger than her by three name days. Never did she see the two together during the day, and it took some convincing for the King’s guard to tell her the two had secret meetings during the night. 

‘Of course,’ she thought, clutching her fists as the need to break something became too much to bear. If there was one thing Daerra was also known for in the Seven Kingdoms….it was her temper. Rivaling that of Daemon when she finally burst after penting up frustration for days. Earning her another nickname of the Dragon with a Lion’s roar. However, she had to remain composed. This was the King, not just her cousin. And while he allowed her freedom and often glanced the other way when she gave cheek to Lords and Ladies of the Court, the same would not be directed at him. 

In the end, Daerra told Viserys, “I hope you know what you’re doing, cousin.” And when he questioned her statement, her reply was simply, “You lack to see the weight this union has put on our House. And I hope you are ready for the pressure that will come the moment you sire more heirs. For yours and Rhaenyra--and even Alicent’s sake,” she paused, narrowing her brows at the man who raised her. “I hope the Gods bless you with only daughters.” 

Of course, Viserys believed her to over exaggerate. Even when he caught her stiff expression at his wedding. Standing beside his daughter with her hands clasped behind her back, dressed in black with gold accents. The way she assessed him was almost like a warning. But again, Viserys took it like a grain of salt. In his eyes, Rhaenyra was his heir and the Lords of Westeros pledged to her before him and the Gods. Swearing fealty, which was more valuable than any gold in the country. 

He failed to realize they would not be forthcoming once he had a son. When that day came, Daerra felt the shift. As she glanced down at the babe in her arms, having taken him while Alicent rested before Viserys was to present him to the court, Daerra’s usual rough exterior crumbled. 

There was such an innocence to babes. Unaware of the harsh realities the world possessed. Small little things who only desired love and attention. “Hello, little one,” she whispered to Aegon. His bright lilac eyes staring up at her in wonder. Silver strands of hair on his head, skin soft and smooth as her finger stroked his cheek. “I’m your cousin, Daerra. Oh how the realm has awaited your arrival,” her gaze softens, a tinge of sadness in her tone. “But I’m sorry for what your life is set to be like. You’re the first born son--named after the Conqueror himself.” 

Of course little Aegon had no clue what she was saying. To him the only concern was when he would eat, sleep, and have his nappy changed. Still, he gazed up at her as though he was taking in every word. 

Helaena came a year later, with Aemond not long after. As she did with Aegon’s birth, Daerra was present in the Queen’s chamber. Offering support and watching the babes while she rested following the endless hours of labors. Though her and Alicent’s relationship was rather hot and cold, there was a mutual respect. Especially when it came to the children which the Queen greatly appreciated. There were times where Daerra was the only person who could calm them when they fussed. 

“You’d be a great mother, Daerra,” Alicent exhaled, waiting for the sleep to take her while watching Aemond in the woman’s arms. “You’re a natural with him. With all of them.” Still in her youth, the young Queen wondered why Daerra never seeked to marry or have children. After Daemon left for the StepStones a lot had changed for Daerra. 

Though she still had her reputation. 

Daerra only smiled, not taking her eyes on the baby boy, “Everyone’s destiny is different, my Queen. I don’t think mine was to birth the next generation of Targaryen’s. But I do think I was meant to help raise them.” 

Lastly a few years later, came the arrival of the last child of the King and Queen. A boy named Daeron. Who the King, with the surprise approval of his wife, named in honor of his cousin. 

“Gentle, Aemond,” Daerra brushed away a hair from his face and tucked behind his ear. Kneeling down on the ground so she was eye level with the toddlers, Daerra held a sleeping Daeron in her arms. Six-year-old Aegon had a toy dragon in his hand, while five-year-old Helaena sucked on her thumb. Aemond, the curious three-year-old, kept leaning over her arm to get a look at his baby brother. 

“Tiny,” his finger came down on the babe’s head, lilac eyes peering up at the woman in awe. Daerra beamed, a bright smile on her lips. 

“Yes, my darling, he’s a tiny thing. Like you were many moons ago,” a giggle left the boy’s mouth upon her poke to his stomach. Helaena leaned onto her shoulder, lightly tracing the leather and texture of Daerra’s outfit. Aegon himself found entertainment twirling the chains attached to her cloak.

“How come all our eyes are purple and yours are green, aunt?” 

Daerra felt warmth at the title, like it always did when the children referred to her as such. That they viewed her more as an aunt than a distant cousin. 

“Well, my father was a Lannister and said to have bright green eyes,” she explained to the boy.

“Like Cannibal!” Aemond exclaimed, causing Daerra to gently hush him and carefully adjust Daeron who made a sound at the movement. Daerra cooed at him before looking back at Aemond. He’d always been so fascinated by the Dragons in his young age. Especially Cannibal after learning of his reputation. Begging Daerra to one day take him with her flying. She also had a tradition of taking the royal babes to the Dragon, much to the horror of Alicent and Otto, presenting the beast with the new generation of their house. 

Daerra chuckled, petting the top of Aemond’s head, “Inside voice, little dragon.” He mumbled an apology. Daerra bopped his nose, “but yes, Cannibal and I have matching eyes. That’s why some say he chose me as his rider.” She turned back to Aegon, “Sometimes certain traits are stronger than others. My father’s mother was a Targaryen, but he inherited his father’s green eyes. You all took on after your father, his grace the King. The spitting image of the blood of Old Valyria.”

“But what about Jace?” 

Daerra felt her heart stop, eyes widening a bit at the sudden question by her surrogate nephew. As the years passed with many unions blooming and children born to the royal family, Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor Velaryon produced their first son. Jacaerys. Born only a few moons prior to which Viserys ordered the babes share a wet nurse, following rising tensions between the houses in hopes to restore the strained relationship between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. The former donning to wear only the color green, representing her house calling their bannerman to war. 

An act that had Daerra nearly tapping back into her destructive nature by driving her dagger straight through her heart. She resisted…..with a lot of hard work.  

Like most in the Keep, Daerra knew the boy had been sired from the honorable Ser Harwin Strong. Sharing his dark brown hair, eyes, and similar nose. Opposite of the traditional Valyrian features such as silver hair and lilac eyes. A kind man and dutiful knight, Daerra saw the behavior her cousin and her sworn protector shared when they thought no one was looking. 

Rhaenyra was currently carrying her second child, and rumors of the potential paternity of Jace and his unborn sibling were spread. Making Daerra’s brows narrow in question. 

Gently tugging the boy closer after confirming they were the only ones in the nursery, Daerra whispered, “What is this you speak of, sweetling?” Young and naive to the concern in her tone, Aegon continued to fiddle with her chains. 

“He doesn’t have hair like us. I heard mother shouting at the maid that Jace is a ba-ba-bast,” he couldn’t get the word out, and Daerra immediately stopped him with a soft hand on his cheek. 

“Jace is your nephew. Your older sister's son,” she told him sternly but also soothing as one would to a child. “You boys will grow up with each other--and there is nothing stronger in the Seven Kingdoms than the bond between kin. You mustn’t utter these words again, sweetling. Regardless of whom you hear them from.” 

Aegon only nodded, saying something along the lines of, “I won’t,” but Daerra already feared what was to come for the future of her family. Alicent already showed disdain for her Rhaenyra after her father Otto was released as Hand. Now with her voicing the questionable parentage of the Princess’ son, there was little to no hope of reconciliation. 

The rumors only got worse with the arrival of a second son, Lucerys. A spitting image of his older brother. Like Alicent’s children, Daerra was close to Rhaenyra’s sons. Making her often feel in the middle of the feud between the two. Thankfully when it came to the children, both were respectful and grateful for Daerra’s assistance. 

“Come here, my dreamer,” Helaena grasped Daerra’s outstretched hand, not clutching Luke to her chest, to help the princess step out of the carriage. The Lady turned to the knights, “You are to remain here. We’ll only be a moment.” The man’s face consorted to worry, eyes peering into the woods where he swore he heard the rumble of the beast lying ahead.

“My Lady, the Queen and Princess ordered that you must be in sight with the young prince and princess. You’re not to be alone with them and your dragon--for precaution as you can understand.” 

Having dealt with this a number of times already, Daerra’s face stayed neutral, “I appreciate your concern, and honor of maintaining order, good Ser. But you must know my Cannibal does not take kindly to strangers.” Her tone went cold, as did her eyes sending a shudder up the man’s spine. He visibly paled. “He will see you as food. So,” her head tilted in defiance, “do you still wish to join us? Or will you be smart and do as you’re told.”

“I-I-I shall await your return, my Lady,” he nodded, wishing nothing more than to wipe the sweat from his head. Or throw up from the anxiety he felt. 

Daerra smirked, nodding back and holding Helaena’s hand while cradling Luke in her other arm. Guiding the girl through the woods until they reached Cannibal’s nest. Once in front of the clearing, Daerra bows, “Rytsas, uēpa raquiros.” Hello old friend. 

A low rumble filled their ears, followed by the rustling of leaves. The clearing between the trees filling as Cannibal shook the twigs from his back, wildfire eyes focusing on the group. Daerra heard him sniff, letting go of Helaena’s hand to approach. The girl stayed put, gaze glued on the dragon with awe. She’d never seen him up close before, the only time Helaena had made his acquaintance was when Daerra presented her to him as a babe. Then when Daeron and Jace were born, she took Aegon with her. 

Daerra approached with caution. Glancing down at Lucerys while she untucked the blanket to show his face. 

“Nyke’ve maghatan ao nykeā irudy. Nykeā Targārien naejot kustikagon īlva ānogar. Rhaenagon prince Lucerys, tresy hen Rhaenrya se ser Laenor Velaryon.” I’ve brought you a gift. A Targaryen to strengthen our blood. Meet Prince Lucerys, son of Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor Velaryon. 

Cannibal leaned down, bringing his snout level with Daerra, who gently extended her arms. Holding Lucerys out as though she was offering him up to the dragon, making Helaena gasp lightly. Slight fear at what might happen despite finding the sight mesmerizing. 

Emerald eyes met wildfire. Dragon and his rider. Daerra kept her stare as Cannibal’s snout came only a mere inches from the babe. Feeling the heat radiate off him, the fire seeping through his veins. Cannibal sniffed again, Lucerys moving in Daerra’s hands though she kept a grip on him while never taking her eyes off her dragon. Watching him smell his Targaryen blood, the blood of Old Valyria. 

A sound of approval left Cannibal, his body raising to his true height. A stunning sight for anyone who dared graced the wild dragon with their presence. It made Daerra smirk, bringing Lucerys back to her chest when he began whimpering. She cooed softly, stepping back to where Helaena stood. Crouching down, Daerra said, “The dreams you have are not mere illusions or fantasies, Helaena. It is a rare thing for a Targaryen to dream the way you do--but it is in our blood. They are a window into the future--or what the future may bring. I know it’s hard for you to explain when they happen, but you must not be frightened. For you are a dragon,” the girl met her gaze, a mini Rhaenyra staring back at her. “And a dragon does not bow down to fear.”

Alicent’s distant nature for her children was observed early on. As well as the neglectfulness of his Grace the King. So it came as no surprise to servants and guards in the Keep when the children of the King and Queen often sought council and companionship from Lady Daerra and Ser Criston Cole. The two hardly acknowledged each other, only when the time called for it. She disliked his insults of Rhaenyra, and he despised her closeness to the Princess and her sons. 

But when it came to Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond, the two were a force to be reckoned with. Daeron had been sent to Oldtown once he learned to walk. A decision that put a small hole in Daerra’s heart, for she felt she lost a son, although the decision was a wise one. Alicent continued to drive hate into her children while Daerra fought to prevent it. And having Daeron away meant he had a chance to not sour like the rest of the Hightowers in the Keep. Helaena remained a sweet girl. The only solace as Aegon began drowning himself in wine and Aemond grew restless at not having a dragon. 

Like today as a matter of fact. 

Daerra made her way to Rhaenyra’s apartments, passing Laenor and the boys as he escorted them to the Dragonpit. “Aunt Daerra!” Jace bounded to her, excitement coating his entire being. “We’ve got a brother! His name is Joffrey.” 

“So I’ve heard,” she ruffles his hair, then leans down to scoop up Luke who had latched to her leg. “Are you excited to be a big brother, my prince? You’re not the youngest anymore and have to step up to the role Jace has had.” He nods frantically. Ready to prove himself to his family. 

“I can’t wait to go dragon riding with him,” he smiles but then pouts, “but that won’t be till Arrax gets bigger and his egg hatches.” Daerra lightly pinches his cheek, making him squeal.

“Fair not, little dragon, the time will come. Until then--,” she sets him down, bidding a nod to Laenor who returned a nod in respect. Silently thanking her for all the times she was there for the boys and not audibly questioning their lineage. “You gotta grow your bond with Arrax. And we shall pray to the Gods they bless Joffrey with his dragon. Now, I shall leave you to it. I have a new nephew to meet.”

With a kiss to each of their heads, the woman departs as they wave goodbye, continuing on until she reaches Rhaenyra’s chamber. The Whitecloak nods, moving to open the door and announces her arrival, “The Lady Daerra Targaryen, Princess.” 

“Thank you, Ser.” Rhaenyra sits up, grinning up at her cousin, who exchanges courtesies with Harwin. “Good morrow, cousin.” 

“Good morrow it is, my Princess,” Daerra clasps her hands behind her back. Slowly walking forward until she’s directly in front of the woman. Noting the evident exhaustion in her face. “My congratulations to you and Ser Leanor on the healthy birth of another son.” Her head gestures to the babe, cradled in the knight’s arms. “I hear his name is Joffrey.” At her silent reaction, Rhaenyra softly chuckles, giving a knowing look. 

“Laenor chose it. I believe it is a name dear to him--I recall him wanting to name Jace, and then Luke, it when they were born,” her smile was small, lingering with sadness at the memory of Laenor’s lover that’d been killed the night of their wedding. Knowing it was the reason behind the name. “But his father had a hand in naming the boys. Making sure their names were fit for Velaryons.” Daerra didn’t miss the way her cousin’s eyes flickered to Harwin. Or how he looked up from the babe to meet the Princess’ gaze.

Clearing her throat, the woman once again turned her attention to the babe. “Well they are certainly happy to be older brothers. Already planning to take him and their dragons out for their first flight.” Together they all shared a laugh. Daerra made the motion to Joffrey, “Might I?”

“Of course,” Harwin passed the babe, carefully placing her into her arms and lingering when he believed she had him settled. Daerra stayed silent, not wishing to make him uncomfortable by commenting how she'd held all the royal children as babes. 

Harwin took his leave, bowing to Rhaenyra and Daerra as he did so. Leaving the two women and Joffrey alone. That’s when Rhaenyra finally let out the breath she’d been holding, closing her eyes to soothe the tiredness consuming her. Daerra sat on the opposite chair, shaking head with a frown. 

“I’d hoped the maids were speaking nonsense when I heard what took place after the birth.” Daerra took in her cousin, taking her eyes off Joffrey, who fell into a soundless sleep. Rhaenyra opened her eyes, the small smile turning into a frown. 

“I fear it will continue, so long as I produce heirs.” 

Daerra sighed, face consorted with concern. “I admit I have some sympathies toward the Queen for her situation. Only a girl herself when she married your father and had the children. Still,” her face turned strained, indicating she was not defending Alicent. “That does not excuse her behavior toward you. And your boys.”

Rhaenyra looked down, muttering a ‘thank you’ to which the woman simply nodded. They stayed that way for a few minutes, Daerra requesting permission to take the babe to meet Cannibal after the two had rested. Once received, Daerra handed the Joffrey to the maid, gave a comforting squeeze to Rhaenyra’s shoulder, and left the Princess. 

As she migrated through the halls, she heard sniffles in a nearby room, the one belonging to Aemond. Once again the guard acknowledged her with a nod, moving to allow her to pass. 

Her heart broke at the sight of Aemond sitting on his bed, head tucked between his knees. Dust and soot covering his usually clean silver hair and green attire. An indicator he’d been in the Dragonpit. Alone, in an attempt to claim his mount he desperately wanted. After the many years of teasing from his brother and nephews.

Who only did it when Daerra wasn’t present. Fearing her wrath as she did not tolerate bullying in her presence. The one time they did it left them all crying. Mostly out of embarrassment and shame at disappointing her. 

His soft cries echoing in the silent room, until her footsteps entered as she strolled up to him. Daerra takes the spot on the bed beside him. “Aemond.”

“I do not wish for a lecture, Aunt Daerra,” he rubbed his nose, turning the other way to shy away his reddened eyes. He knew she already figured out his adventure in the pit. “Mother already gave me one.” 

“I’m not here to lecture. I’m here to ask if you’re alright.” 

Aemond turned back to face her, eyes glossy with tears and bottom lip beginning to quiver, “They gave me a pig.” Daerra tilted her head, confused at the statement.

“A pig?”

A tear escaped as he nodded, Daerra wiping it away with her thumb. “Aegon. Him, Jace, and Luke told me they had a dragon for me to claim. That it was finally my time to join them as riders.” His head frantically shook, leaning onto her side to which she opened her arm to embrace him. “But-but really it was a pig they dressed up and called it the pink dread.” 

Daerra listened silently, comforting the boy as he began to cry once more. Her fingers raked through his silver locks, as a mother would her child. A gesture he loved, considering his mother hardly showed affection. Unlike his older half-sister did with her children. 

“Why don’t we take a walk?” she suggested, pulling away from Aemond to stand. She held out her hand, “There’s something I want to show you.” Putting himself together, Aemond hopped off the bed and took her hand, letting Daerra lead him out of his room. They reached Rhaenyra’s chamber, where the lady told him to wait while she went inside. A moment later, she returned with Joffrey in her arms. 

“What are you doing?” Aemond’s eyes widened, standing on his tippy toes to see his nephew. Noting the babe was still asleep. 

Daerra smirked, “It’s been some time since a Targaryen babe has been born. Lucerys being the last,” she began to walk, Aemond trailing behind her with an eager pace. “And I’m not one to stray from tradition. Cannibal will be pleased to meet the newest member of the family.” Immediately Aemond lit up. Realizing what Daerra was referring to. 

It was his turn to join her as she introduced a Targaryen baby to her dragon. He’d been four when Luke was born, and Helaena was who she brought with her. Which had Aemond pouting as he wanted to go but Daerra refused. Now he was getting his chance. 

The first stop was to see his mother. Alicent’s already dampened mood increased when the two arrived at the Kings’ chambers. Alicent saw Joffrey and instantly knew what was about to be asked. 

“Is this really necessary, Lady Daerra?” she argued, trying to ignore the pleading eyes Aemond was giving her. Focusing only on Daerra, who did not break under her stare. “The babe was born mere hours ago. And I’m sure the Princess--.”

“Already gave her consent,” Daerra interrupted, keeping her expression neutral. 

From the side, Viserys let out a pained groan, catching their attention. “Let the boy go with her Alicent. All the children have met Cannibal when they were born, and Daerra has proven he will not do harm. Both Aegon and Helaena have joined her with the births of their brother and nephews. Aemond shall go with her to introduce Joffrey.” 

Alicent attempted to put up another argument, but with a 3v1 against her, she ultimately relented. Ordering that a guard must be present at all times and they are to return before the hour is up.

“Of course, your Grace,” Daerra bowed. “We shall make haste so that Aemond is not late to the training yard.” 

“You will be joining them, yes?” Alicent had a tight smile. She had mixed feelings of Daerra assisting Criston Cole and Harwin Strong in training the boys. For one, she admired the woman for being able to do things most women were frowned upon doing. She too, found herself mesmerized as a young girl watching Daerra train with Daemon Targaryen. She was a beauty to behold with her whip and sword. 

But Alicent also resented Daerra for it. Mostly due to envy she spent more time with her sons than she did. 

And that they preferred her company. 

Daerra’s chuckle brought her out of her thoughts, “Someone has to put these princes in line. They forget themselves when a Lady is not present.” Both women drew their gaze to Aemond, the residue of the dragonpit still on him. Pink tinged his cheeks as he looked away. 

“As I agree,” Alicent’s jaw tightened, but she quickly masked her disdain with a tight smile. Shaking her head while looking back at Daerra, “Very well. I shall leave you then.”

Daerra curtsied again, “Your Grace,” then she turned to Viserys. “My King.”

“Thank you, mother,” Aemond bowed, before doing the same to his father. Both wearing small smiles, though only Viserys’ reached his eyes. 

When they finally reached Cannibal’s nest, Aemond was buzzing with nerves and excitement. Heart pounding against his chest. For it would be the first time being so close to his beloved Aunt’s dragon. A moment he’d been waiting years for. 

He remembered Daerra telling him many moons prior that she brought him as a baby to the beast, where the dragon spit his wild green fire into the sky in celebration of the birth of a Targaryen prince. Then Aemond often watched from the Godswood as Daerra flew him around Kings Landing. His shiny black scales bouncing off the sun’s rays. Shouts of the small folk reacting to his massive form. Aemond was always in awe. 

Sitting down on the grass after Daerra presented Cannibal with Joffrey, they watched him find a comfortable spot in his nest to return to his nap. Daerra beamed at the sight, switching Joffrey in her arms when they started to ache. 

“I know you wish nothing more than to claim your dragon, Aemond. I too was upset with each nameday passing and not having one,” Peering down, Daerra saw the way his face shifted to sadness. “I was the age Jace is now when Cannibal chose me.” 

“He chose you?” He repeated, now displaying confusion. 

Daerra raised a brow, “To believe we have the power to control a dragon is a myth. They are who really chose us. It is why when you attempt to claim one, you must accept death as an answer.” Aemond processed her words, fiddling with his fingers that were clasped in his lap. 

“So I have to wait for a dragon to deem me worthy.” The dejection in voice pulled at her heartstrings. His shoulders dropped in defeat. 

Taking his hand in hers not holding Joffrey, Daerra signed and stroked his knuckles. “What your brother and nephews did was cruel. And I’m sorry you had to endure that, Aemond. But remember this, my darling,” Tucking her finger under his chin, she pulled his gaze to hers. Green eyes meeting lilac, “You are a Targaryen. Made of fire and blood, whose ancestors conquered Westeros with the dragons we hold dear to our house. Your time will come. And when the opportunity presents itself, you will know.” Her eyes turn serious, filling Aemond with hope. “And the dragon will choose you.”

Disaster struck an hour later. One that no one, even Daerra, could have anticipated. When Criston Cole decided to instigate a spar between Jace and Aegon. Leading him to antagonize Harwin Strong. 

It all started when all four boys took turns switching off against the four dummies. But not before they were lectured by the woman on their mistreatment of Aemond that morning. All their heads bowed, not able to face her which brought a bit of joy to the prince. Once finished, they took their spots in the yard. Daerra stood on one side while Cole took the other. Observing the four closely as they met their targets. The knight was not pleased or offered technique advice whenever Jace and Luke were by him. Whereas Daerra was equal. Pointing out mistakes for each boy. 

When they switched off again, Jace bumped shoulders with Aemond. An action he did on purpose which received a scolding look from Daerra. She didn’t say anything, her face alone brought a blush to Jace’s cheeks. The boy mumbled a ‘sorry’, embarrassed to have been caught and looking away to not meet her eyes. Daerra moved closer to him, right next to the dummy. 

“This is practice, not the battlefield. I expect better from you.” The red on his cheeks got brighter, nodding his head in silent promise to not do it again. Once satisfied, Daerra commanded. “Feet light, Jace.” Bringing his wooden sword up, he struck the dummy one, two, three times before pivoting on to attack from behind. A sound of approval left her, “Good.” 

Briefly lifting her focus, she caught her cousin and his Hand, Ser Lyonel Strong watching the scene below from the top of the Keep. Surrounded by his Kingsguard. The king raised a hand to wave, a smile on his face and pleased to see his sons and grandsons training together. He received a firm nod from his cousin before turning to speak with Lyonel. 

When she returned her attention to Jace, he had stuck his sword in the dummy, only for it to be smacked down by Aemond. 

“Don’t stand too upright, My Prince,” Cole lectured, tone laced with mocking. “You’ll get knocked down.” The glare from Daerra was ignored, moving his attention to Aegon, who got distracted by passing servants. 

Daerra’s disproving eyes went to Aemond, now facing the dummy Jace had left. “I understand what transpired this morning has made you upset. But to add fire will only make it worse. You are better than that, Aemond.” 

His brows narrowed, “It’s not fair. Everyone tells me to deal with it--why should I? Why does no one--apart from you--say anything!” he whisperer-shouted the last sentence, not wanting to draw attention to them. Daerra didn’t blame Aemond for his outburst. After years of teasing it was bound to take a toll. And part of her blamed his parents lack of involvement for letting it slide for so long. 

“Your anger is justified,” she affirmed, leaning down to lower her voice so only he could hear. “And judgment will come when the Gods deem it so. For now, display your frustration on the dummies. Not your kin. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Aunt Daerra,” came his mumble. Daerra straightened up when she heard Cole suggest a challenge between him against Aemond and Aegon. Her brows furrowed in suspicion, but made no move to stop the knight. Instead she backed up to stand between Jace and Luke. 

Their spar lasted roughly thirty seconds. Both Targaryen’s put their best efforts to disarm Cole. But the knight was faster. 

“Ah,” the sound of Harwin Strong came from her right. Daerra stiffening when the boys turned to him. Which did not go unnoticed by Cole. “Weapons up, boys. Give your enemies no quarter.”

“Thank you for your input, Ser Harwin,” Daerra gave a curt nod. Motioning for the two to approach the dummies, and much to her displeasure, Harwin turned to address Cole. 

“It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston.” 

Daerra cursed under her breath, panning to Cole who did not take lightly to the Lord Commander's words. 

“Do you question my method of instructions, Ser? Or that of the Lady Daerra?”

“Ser Criston,” Daerra warned, then sent a look to Harwin. Pleading to not say anything. Of course, it went to no avail.

“I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils.” It didn’t help that Aegon shoved little Luke to the side, the boy bumping into Daerra who had to stop him from hitting the ground.

“Aegon.”

Cole’s animosity breached his expression, “Very well.” Harwin’s face changed as the knight stunted forward. Daerra tensing where she stood. “Jacaerys,” his hand reached out and yanked the boy. “You spar with Aegon.” The silver-hair boys laughed as Cole dragged Jace to the other side. “Eldest son against eldest son.”

Daerra voiced disapproval, “Mayhaps we should continue as we were, Ser Criston.” 

Harwin appeared to agree, “It’s hardly a fair match.” Aegon patted Jace’s back as he passed him. An eager smile painted his lips while the younger became nervous. 

“I know you’ve never seen true battle, ser, but when steel is drawn a fair match isn’t something anyone should expect.”

Daerra hated that Cole had a point. When battle came there was no such thing as fairness. But still, this was training for the young princes. Not a duel between steel. 

She could intervene. Harwin and Jace’s faces were filled with worry. Silently pleading for her to reprimand Cole. Daerra knew better though. This was his element and had all the power. She was only to supervise and offer assistance when needed. But she did say one thing, voice stern as she looked all three--Cole, Jace, and Aegon--in the eyes, “Keep it clean. No blood or this ends as quick as it starts.” 

Cole tightened his lips, “Well said, my Lady.” Their glares on each other lingered, Cole breaking it first when he motioned at the boys. “Blades up.” They awaited the command. “Engage.” 

Aegon charged with a cry, Jace using all his might to counter his attacks. He was brought to the ground with a shove, sword still in his hands. The older boy laughed menacingly, retaking his spot in front of Cole. The smirk, however, left his lips when he caught Daerra’s cold stare. Then Jace came running at him with a shout. 

“Ahhhhh!”

They danced across the yard, the spar pausing when Aegon tried to push a dummy onto Jace. Resulting in Harwin to step in, “Foul play!”

“I’ll deal with him,” Cole announced, both men stepping toward their respected princes. Daerra stiffened, peering up to see her cousin looking awfully confused. The rigid posture of his Lord Hand was a telling sign they too felt unease.

“You!” Aegon yelled, startling Jace who quickly met his oncoming attack. 

“Close with him,” Cole ordered, all three adults following behind the boys. Daerra pointing at Aemond and Luke to stay put. “Push him backward!”

“Light feet, Jacaerys!” Daerra matched Cole’s tone. The brunette boy’s face painted red and stumbling with each step. Aegon was relentless, coming at him like a wild animal. 

“Use your feet!” A harsh kick met Jace’s armored chest, plowing him down. “Don’t let him get up!” Aegon brought the sword down, Jace barely able to counter. He was losing his breath, running out of energy. 

Harwin was losing his patience. As was Daerra, “Ser Criston, that is enough--.”

“Stay on the attack!” 

Aegon raised his sword, ready to charge it onto the already weakened Jace, but was stopped when Harwin grabbed it and pulled him away. “Enough!” With a single movement, Aegon was spun around and thrown to the side. 

“You dare put your hands on me!?”

Daerra cut in front of the heated prince as he hastily pushed up from the ground to challenge Harwin. “Calm down, now.” Her pointed finger while free hand hovering over her whip was enough to draw him back. His offensive stance shrinking down, mumbling curses more out of annoyance. 

“Aegon!” the King shouted, mirroring his cousin’s tone. Finding his son to be overdramatic by his choice of words. 

“You forget yourself, Strong, that is the prince,” Cole snarled. 

“This is what you teach, Cole?” came the response. Harwin picked up the disposed swords, spitting “Cruelty. To the weaker opponent.”

“Your interest in the Princes’ training is quite unusual, Commander. Most men would only have that kind of devotion toward a cousin.” 

Oh no.

Harwin stilled, picking up the last sword as Cole turned to face him with a cunning smirk. Daerra narrowed her eyes. Not blind to his indirect accusation, but vexed he would openly announce it in the yard. In front of onlookers. In front of the boys.

“Or a brother.” 

Harwin stood, Daerra unable to see his face to tell what he was thinking. Instinctively she motioned for Jace and Luke to get behind her. While throwing pointed gazes at Aemond and Aegon who were watching with amused expression. 

“Ser Criston, mind your tongue.”

Her warning was left to the wind. Cole let out the final blow, “Or a son.” Faster than they could blink, the Commander of the Night’s watch spun, fist raised to impact Cole’s cheek. Sending him sprawling to the ground as he landed another one. Straddling his chest to continue unleashing deadly hits causing Cole’s face to bleed in various areas. 

It came to an end when the man they called Breakbones was yanked off of Cole by the power of Daerra’s whip. The leather wrapping itself around his neck, the woman jerking it with all her might, letting out a cry until Harwin fell to the ground. A sight that shocked her nephews, all standing wide eyed with their mouths agape. 

They didn’t call her the Daring for nothing.

That was when the Whitecloaks seized him, taking four of them to drag the knight away from Cole. “Say it again!” He seethed, spit flying from his mouth. “Say it again!” Daerra marched up to Cole, surprising him with her strength as she hauled him to his feet. Dizziness filling his vision.

“How dare you speak freely and make that suggestion in front of them,” By her tone, Cole feared he was about to get a second beating. “Go to the maester, you fucking imbecile,” she didn’t care if he was concussed, thrusting him in the opposite direction, making him stumble. And seeing he was in no mood to argue, Cole obeyed, heading to the maester and left Daerra to clean up his mess. 

Turning to where Harwin struggled in the arms of the guards, she bit the inside of her cheek. “Release him.” Once unhanded, Daerra stepped up to the knight, voice low. “Commander, I do not fault you for the rage you just displayed, but It is disappointing you let yourself go so easily--allowing the Princes to be exposed.” Sharply inhaling, she drew her gaze around the yard, displeased to find most in hushed conversation. Not hiding the way they watched the two and eyed the boys. 

Daerra motioned to where his father stood, pale face with fear at what this meant for his house. “You are dismissed.” Turning on her heel, she picked up the discarded swords and threw them onto the rack. “That is it for today,” she called to the boys, who stood like lost sheep waiting to be herded. Jace more so than the others, holding back tears as he was old enough to understand the implication Cole had revealed. “To your chambers--or wherever your Lady mothers need you. Go.” 

To say everything changed that day would be an understatement. Harwin was relieved of his position, and ordered to return to Harrenhal, leaving the boys heartbroken. Daerra, exhausted from the events of the day, found herself using the hours before dusk to ride Cannibal. Sensing her distress, the dragon flew for miles, passing Driftmark and circling Dragonstone. 

Caressing the scales of her beloved friend, Daerra succumbed to her thoughts. Letting her anxiety and fears come to the surface instead of masking them. The only witness being the dragon who’d never judge her. Only share her feelings. 

“Nyke gīmigon, issa raquiros, nyke gīmigon.” She stroked Cannibal’s rough scales. I know, my friend, I know. A grumble filled her ears, Daerra’s slightly curled up then dropped to a frown. “Nyke feel ziry tolī.” 

I feel it too.

[angstandhappiness]

LMAO ACCURATE

Emerald: So, you're basically the therapist for, like, the entire group?

Oscar: Pretty much, yeah.

Emerald: Who's your therapist, then?

Oscar:

Oscar, holding up a small pebble: I talk to this rock sometimes.

[five-miles-over]

Scavenger Hunt

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki has you go on a scavenger hunt one afternoon, not telling you what he has in store for you.

Warnings: a little angst, pre-established relationship (can be platonic or romantic)

"This looks like something stolen from the Graham Norton Show." You raised an eyebrow when Loki handed you an orange and purple card.

"It's a scavenger hunt." Loki said with a twinkle in his eye. "Every clue leads you to the next one."

"I know how a scavenger hunt works, Loki." You rolled your eyes and flipped over the card. "Was this your idea, or is this some ridiculous team-bonding activity put together by Steve Rogers?"

"No. You see,…I have some errands to do, but at the same time, I have an obligatory excursion with the Lady Valkyrie."

You crossed your arms. "So why the scavenger hunt?" Loki brightly answered. "Well, it makes the errands all the more fun!"

"Alright, but you owe me, Loki." 

"Good girl." The God of Mischief kissed you not the cheek and disappeared into thin air.

You glanced down and saw that the first card, which told you to pick up six cupcakes ordered under Loki's name. The cupcakes were from a specific café….that just so happened to be the place where you and Loki had your first date, which was set up by a far-too-enthusiastic Thor. The moment you got there, a waiter brought you a "complimentary" cupcake of your favorite flavor…along with another orange and purple card. 

The second card took you to the library, on the pretext of picking up a book that was on hold for Loki. There, the librarian handed you the book - Divine Comedy by Dante - and another book that you recognized. It was Pride and Prejudice, one of the first pieces of "Midgardian literature" that you introduced to Loki, a book that you were all too happy to fangirl over. But inside the book was - yes- another orange and purple card. 

The third card sent you to pick up Loki's dry-cleaning. (Really, Loki? Dry cleaning?) At the dry-cleaners, the person at the register handed you a transparent garment bag containing a black tuxedo with a ruffled white shirt. And then you were given a second garment bag with an emerald green gown embellished with diamonds. You couldn't help but stare a few moments at the pretty, expensive-looking gown. Before the person at the register could hand you another card, you made a mental note to ask Loki about the gown and whom it was for. You guessed it was probably for himself for the times he was feeling fabulous. Actually, Loki also liked to wear absolutely nothing when he was feeling his most fabulous…but that didn't matter right now.

The fourth card took you to the park where Loki confessed his love for you for the first time, on the pretext of picking up Loki's forgotten jacket and buying a bouquet of white flowers.

The fifth card took you across the city just to get a particular bottle of liquor that Loki had liked. Okay, now this guy was having a little too much fun with you right now. 

You were relieved when the sixth card, given to you by the liquor store clerk, led you back to the Avengers compound, to the same room where you began this entire scavenger hunt. You huffed a little, setting the box of cupcakes, the books, the two garment bags, Loki's jacket, the flowers, and liquor gently on a table. "Loki? Loki, where are you?" Loki stood in the middle of the Avengers' common room, wearing polished gold armor over a black and green leather tunic with long, dark trousers. His hair was combed perfectly in place, and his hands clasped behind his back. He stood surrounded by a few candles and fairy lights hanging against the curtains. "Okay, I need answers…" You sighed, already tired from running around all afternoon. "Loki, I got your things, just tell me what the gown is for and the…the liquor and the…Are you throwing a party or something?" "I'm getting married."

"What?!" You gulped, reaching for the nearest couch. "I…what? You're getting married, why didn't you tell me? And…" You felt your head start to spin, preparing yourself for the worst. Whatever happened to all the times he said he loved you? Was he just using you to put together some kind of romantic gesture for someone else, just a tool?! Perhaps this is what you get for letting the God of Mischief into your life. Betrayal. "Well, I hope they make you happy, Loki." You relented, putting your head in your hands.

"She does." 

"Good." You murmured, trying your best not to cry in this moment. That was the last thing you wanted him to see. "Is that gown for her too?"

"Hm-hm. Of course, it'll probably end up on the floor after the engagement party, hehe."

"Loki, I am in no mood for your jokes right now." After a few moments, you looked up. 

"Come on,…have a sense of humor."

"NO!" You yelled, getting up from the couch. "No, I will not have a sense of humor right now! You used me! You used me, and lied to me. You told me to do all of these errands, like picking up dry cleaning, and buying liquor, without telling me that you were going to propose to someone else! You could have at least told me, just so I'd have some kind of closure. But no, you couldn't even think to do that. You told me it was a scavenger hunt, like I wasn't worth knowing the truth.

I...I did this because I care about you, Loki! I care about you like some kind of idiot who actually thought that you might like me the same way that I liked you. That right there, making me like you might just be the worst thing you have ever done me." You took a moment to breathe, and ran your hands through your hair. 

"Ugh…And you made me even pick up her engagement dress! What kind of person makes someone do that?!" You couldn't even think about the words you were spitting out, too busy with the hot tears clouding your vision. 

"The kind of person who knows how good it'll look when you wear it."

"What?!" You were taken aback all of a sudden. 

Loki approached you with a hint of nervousness. "Darling, you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I know I'm not easy to be with, that I drive you mad sometimes, and I make you put up with a lot. I...I should've practiced this more." He laughed under his breath. "Why didn't I?" Blinking, he pushed his hair back before continuing. 

"What I'm trying to say is,...my life has never been the same since I met you. You're the most steadfast ally, a wonderful friend, and best of all, you are the most passionate and loyal person I have ever known. I could never imagine my life without you, and I never want to. That's how much I love you." The God of Mischief fell to one knee, and held up a small emerald ring with a gold band.

"Will you marry me?"

[pinkskytwst]

A Witch's Siren

Azul/Siren!Reader (Romantic) Octatrio/Siren!Reader (Platonic Poly)

=============

Despite what many land dwelling races believed, there was more to merfolk culture and biology than what was written about in tourist brochures and grade school textbooks. 

The Coral Sea, for instance, was only one of many diverse districts that had been built by their people. The tropical Emerald Coasts that bordered the Land of Pyroxene and had a vibrant culture that was closely tied to the nearby port city;The Great Chasm that was home to the deep sea merfolk who’s mysterious nature brought all kinds of unique trade and art with them; the Glittering Fjords where merfolk who preferred colder climates created trailing pockets of close knit villages that were a hub of textile traditions sought after even by land royals; and the Crystal Caverns where all kinds of rare flora and fauna that could be used for potions and alchemy were nurtured by the glowing, magic infused caves were only some of the most populous. 

Another preconceived notion was that merfolk biology was a direct one-to-one with other sea life, while the truth was that while many merfolk forms did have recognizable similarities to, say, an octopus or a dolphin, they were not actually related to fish at all. In fact, they had more biological similarities to fae than any other living creature in the oceans and some ancient tales spoke of fae being merfolk who decided to leave their watery homes and take on legs to walk the forests.

Of course, for fae, the fables were the other way around, but whatever the truth, merfolk were incredibly diverse and more than simply ‘a part human fish’. 

Sirens, for instance, were a group of merfolk who, historically, had the most interaction with humans. It was said that the princess that betrayed the Great Sea Witch was a spoiled, selfish siren who gave her voice to try and win over a human prince but when her attempt failed she tricked the witch and cruelly turned on the one that had helped her in order to regain her voice and put the prince under her spell. 

In the end the Great Sea Witch had sacrificed herself to undo what the siren had done to the poor man.  With her own siren powers she saved the human kingdom from being ruled under the princess’s demanding thumb. Incredibly inspiring. So inspiring, in fact, that it had been written and then refilmed so often almost every generation of merfolk had their own edition they had grown up with. 

The films were so popular that they were even well received in land kingdoms and few children grew up without seeing it at least once. For the music if nothing else. Which also, unintentionally led to some common assumptions that fae, humans, and therianthropes had about merfolk.

It was widely known that music played a big part in merfolk culture. What those on land asusmed was that all merfolk could influence others with song, when in reality sirens were the only type that held actual magic in their voices. 

They were also, unsurprisingly, the group of merfolk that interacted with land cultures regularly through trade, living in cities and towns nearer coasts and the ones most frequent to taking lovers or partners outside of their own kind. Mer-blood was potent, however, and nine times out of ten a child born of a merfolk would have all mer features or a combination where their genetic makeup still heavily leaned towards mer instead of human, fae, or therianthrope. 

Sirens, unfortunately, had the hardest time conceiving but without fail, their children would be born with their hypnotic power of song. 

This meant they were greeted by other cultures as well as their own with a confusing mix of reverence and distrust. Of praising them for their talents and captivating appearances while also whispering of unearned success and magically influenced business deals. A push and pull of opinions that would change as quickly as the tides but still could never quite overpower the fairytale of the alluring appearances and their enthralling voices that sang of happily-ever-afters.

Sirens were uncommon in the Coral Sea, however, far more comfortable in the warmer waters of the Emerald Coasts. It was quite a stir, therefore, when a family of famous sirens made the move to the capital. A trio and their child that was the same age as the youngest of the royal family. 

At the time, Azul hadn’t cared much about the news. His mother was excited about the chance to host a dinner for them and possibly set up a deal of some kind for performances at her restaurant but he didn’t pay much attention. It wasn’t like it involved him and he already had to deal with horrible kids at school. He definitely didn’t want anything to do with a pampered siren that was used to having people fawn over their every move. 

He got enough of that being in the same class as Rielle.

When the family accepted the special dinner invite his mother sent out, Azul prepared to hide for the night in her private lounge. It was where she held large business dinners and since she had closed the restaurant to all other guests for the night he knew she wouldn’t need it. He could slink away into there and work on his talismans or read. 

What he normally spent his time doing alone since he had no friends.

He was used to it by now, though, and he was just grateful that his mother never forced him past what he was comfortable with. Because of that he was able to get away with a quick greeting where he did his best to hide behind her and couldn’t even lift his gaze, before he fled.

He only caught a small glimpse of the other kid and he was grateful to be able to avoid them. 

With how breathtaking they were already, even at their age, he didn’t want to imagine what they thought of him or how willing they were to share their thoughts to his face.

To say that he was dismayed when he found out that they would be in his class as well was an understatement. He wasn’t surprised, however, when he barely caught sight of them before they were swarmed by the other kids in class and he did his best to try and block out everything going on around him. Instead he focused on trying to come up with a solution to why his newest talisman wouldn’t anchor the way it was supposed to. 

Maybe - he thought hopefully - they will forget that I’m even here.

He should have known better.

His peace only lasted until lunch. As soon as the teacher left them alone for their ‘recess’ the more aggressive of his classmates turned on him. Maybe they were trying to show off, maybe they were just angry that they weren’t getting the attention they wanted. Whatever the reason, Azul only barely managed to press himself into the safety of his octopot before one of them managed to grab him. 

Blood pounded in his ears. An unsteady stutter of three hearts racing against his ribcage. The familiar grip of panic and anxiety wrapping its claws around his lungs. Twisting and folding himself up as tightly as possible, he covered his ears and tried his best to hold in the tears.

It only ever seemed to make the bullies laugh and jeer louder.

One of the boys, though, had a growth spurt and his longer arms were able to reach deeper into his hiding place than before. Azul let out a cry as rough hands managed to catch hold of his hair and a tentacle. He felt the fingers digging in, the pain sharp as he thrashed uselessly to escape. 

A whimper escaped his lips as he tried to cling to the worn surface of his ceramic pot but his panic and the growing number of hands yanking on him simply had his skin and flesh scraping along it uselessly. He hit hard packed sand as he was finally heaved out of his sanctuary. Coiling his tentacles around himself in a bid to protect against attacks, he prepared himself for the pain he knew was coming.

“I bet you’re the reason they don’t want to be here.” one snarled. 

“Yeah, they probably don’t want to be in the same class as a stupid fat octopus.”

“Why would they want to let us hear their voice when something like you is here?”

Azul couldn’t stop the tears that bubbled from his eyes, biting his tongue to hold in cries and still trying to twist away from the grasping, bruising fingers. 

He didn’t care what the siren did or didn’t do! He didn’t want anything to do with any of them! He just wanted them to go away! He just wanted them to lea-”

“Leave him alone.”

A ripple of magic washed over Azul’s senses, causing an odd shiver to trail down his spine as the most beautiful sound he had ever heard met his ears. 

It was like the entire ocean itself stilled for a moment to listen.

Or maybe it was just him.

He looked up to see the new student not too far away. They almost looked like they were trembling harder than him, their beautiful eyes wide and panicked but glowing in the way he had heard their kind did when using their magic. It was clear they were as terrified as he was, but his addled mind couldn’t grasp why. 

All it knew was that he wanted to hear that voice again.

The four students let their grasps fall away from him, all staring in awe at the mesmerizing siren.

“That was amazing!” one breathed, her eyes locked on the figure that was starting to curl into themself. 

“Could you sing again? It was beautiful!” another begged, his hands reaching out to take theirs hopefully, his focus intense and near obsessed. 

Azul watched the siren flinch, shrinking away from the touch and how the four that had previously been leaving bruises on him now looked like they wanted to embrace the terrified figure. They all started talking at once, trying to convince them to sing again. Not noticing or ignoring the very obvious trepidation and quickly building panic, they surrounded them, pushing closer and closer until he could barely see them at all.

“Go away!”

Azul’s breath was stolen again.

The song was just as lovely, just as enchanting as before, but the tone of fear was unmistakable to his ears. The call tugged on his mind this time, however, and he found himself slinking into his octopot again without thought. 

There was a beat as the other students fell silent before they murmured goodbyes and left as well. 

A heavy tension clung to his shoulders as he waited.

He could tell the siren hadn’t left and he was unsure why. 

He also couldn’t forget how fearful they had looked, or how they had actually…helped him. Were they going to tease him themself? That didn’t make sense though, why wouldn’t they want the others there to watch if that was what they wanted? Why had they helped him?

After a minute and he felt the last of the influencing magic easing from his mind, he cautiously pulled himself towards the lid of his octopot and peeked out. 

His gaze instantly met a pair of large, brilliant eyes. 

The siren was right there, almost nose to nose with him.

A heavy, purple blush exploded on his face but his flustered panic was cut off by the startled sound the other made as they scrambled back, falling over themself. Their voluminous, silky fins rippled around them in a mesmerizing, iridescent show of color and shimmery scales. They flailed and darted behind a large outcrop of coral, leaving only the ends of their caudal fins and the tips of their hair swaying in the current.

Azul stared. 

Were they…were they afraid of him? Him?

He watched as their fingers - not yet developed enough for the elaborate claws adults tended to sport - curled over the edge of the coral before they cautiously peeked out at him. Their face was just as flushed as his, eyes still bright, still as beautiful even if they were no longer glowing. Their expression was wary and nervous. It didn’t seem right for such a pretty face to look like that.

Azul continued to stare for a moment, confused and trying to figure out just what might be going on. Eventually, though, he opened the lid of his octopot just a bit wider so that he could lean his head out more. 

“H-hello?” he managed a weak stammer. 

The siren hesitated, still flushing darkly before they gave a small, shy wave from behind their hiding spot, pulling back a little embarrassed. As if they thought he would yell at them for responding.

The fact that they hadn’t lashed out or even seemed like they wanted to get near him helped at least settle some of his more immediate fears. 

“Um…thank you, for…for making them leave.” he managed. 

The other’s blush darkened even further but they didn’t reply. Their gaze skittered away shyly. He had expected an enthusiastic boast of their talent. Rielle certainly would have.

But they didn’t say anything.

“I…uh…my name is Azul.” he tried softly, uncertain why he thought this was a good idea or what exactly he thought would come of it. “What’s…what’s yours? S-sorry, I don’t remember.” he muttered, not wanting to admit that he hadn’t even bothered to try and register it in the first place. 

He watched them shift, clearly uncomfortable and unsure as they chewed on their bottom lip. His spirits sank when they didn’t seem to want to tell him, or talk to him. The boy’s hopeful expression seeped away and he pulled back into his octopot, closing the lid. 

Clearly they didn’t want anything to do with him, just like the rest. He shouldn’t be surprised. They were probably scared that he was an octomer. Most didn’t leave The Great Chasm, after all, and his bioluminescence wasn’t exactly common in the Coral Sea. It only made sense. 

He was about to curl up in the back of his sanctuary, again, when a light tap came against the dark ceramic. 

Azul blinked and warily moved to push the lid open again. 

The siren was there, hanging back a little from the pot but at least no longer hiding. They were wringing their hands nervously, though, the finlets along their arms fluttering a bit in agitation. Their blush didn’t fade but they reached up to tap their chest lightly before pointing at the sea floor in front of the pot. 

Azul looked down and blinked when he saw a name drawn in the sand.

“Oh…that’s your name?” he said, eyes widening a little as he looked back up to them. 

They curled their shoulders in a little like they were trying to make themself smaller, but they gave a slight nod. 

The small crest of hope bubbled again and he offered a timid smile. 

“It’s a very p-pretty name.” he said before shifting and cautiously sliding his way out of the octopot, watching their reaction closely. 

They didn’t look disgusted, in fact they edged a little closer and reached their hand out. They stopped before they got near one of his tentacles, though, and turned a questioning look on him silently. It took him a moment but he realized they were asking permission to touch him. 

He didn’t remember anyone ever doing that before. 

His flush returned but he managed a small nod, reaching up with the closest tentacle to brush against their soft fingers. They were gentle and their expression was filled with a sort of curiosity that was so far removed from the fear or disgust from others that he didn’t even mind when they prodded one of his suckers, letting out a quiet giggle that sent bubbles drifting from their lips. 

Azul tilted his head a little as he watched them. 

“Do you not like to talk?” he asked carefully, inwardly wincing when he saw them freeze. “I-I don’t mind! Really!” he said quickly, waving his hands. “I just…uh, I was going to ask if maybe…if maybe you wanted to…play…with me. B-but I can get something for you to write on!”

The siren stared at him, eyes going wide before a small, fragile smile bloomed on their face. 

They nodded. 

-

Azul was grateful for whatever luck or destiny had brought his siren to him. That allowed such a bright and warm friend to become a part of his life. To break through the bleak darkness that he had existed in before.

It felt like his whole world changed overnight. 

School was still filled with awful people but with them at his side no one was willing to do anything. The first few times they tried his best friend would unfailingly send them off in a daze, no matter how frightened they were themself or how they always hid against him afterwards. They never abandoned him.

It was only a few months later when a pair of twin eelmers would wiggle their way into their sphere and suddenly life…life wasn’t so bad. 

His Pearl taught them all the hand language at his behest and he didn’t stop practicing until they could share silent conversations for hours without the use of a notepad or tablet. 

The tight hug they gave him and the kiss on his cheek had sent Azul fleeing into his octopot, but they just waited patiently for him to feel comfortable enough to come out again. Not once did they tease him about it or even act like it was odd.

Most of his free time was spent with them now. 

They would listen and offer up suggestions about his talismans, finding the whole idea fascinating. Their own interests became a focus for Azul as well and that was how he found out that they were terrified of performing for others. They loved music but they preferred quieter hobbies, solitary ones until they met Azul.

Attention focused on them was overwhelming and when they were scared it was like their ability to speak was stolen and the words would get caught in their throat. 

It was how he realized just how much they had pushed past to help him that first day. 

He vowed to get strong enough and powerful enough to ensure they never felt scared again. They never had to share their voice if they didn’t want to but he wasn’t going to let others steal it from them against their will. He would show them that they were wonderful, no matter what their parents wanted them to become, and if others didn’t see it then he would make them see it.

They were his Pearl, after all. His Angelfish, his Siren. 

His everything. 

And he would do anything to protect them.

-

Octavinelle was the house of the Great Sea Witch and was founded around her benevolent nature. 

Azul was the pinnacle of everything Octavinelle stood for. Handsome, talented, a genius. Unfailingly humble. Able to convince the Headmage to allow him permission to build a lounge on campus. He had taken over the position of Housewarden before midterms of his first year and no one dared to question his ability to do so. 

He was also terrifying. 

Not only did he hold his housemates to the highest standards, he insisted that each one become fluent in sign language within the first semester of being there. He held exacting requirements and lots of fine print in the contracts that he made with students and was ruthless in their payment. That wasn’t even mentioning Jade and Floyd who easily took care of any…troublesome clients. 

Their sharp smiles could be even more intimidating than the Heartslabyul Queen’s rage. 

The only exception was the Octavinelle Siren. 

It was said they turned down not only a placement at RSA but also an engagement with the youngest Atlantean prince. They were breathtakingly beautiful despite their attempts to blend in, and everyone had expected them to be placed in Pomefiore the moment they stepped up to the mirror. 

Instead they were sent to Octavinelle and the blinding smile they turned on Azul before hurrying to his side had caused more than one student to fall in love instantly. 

They were quiet to the point of being near silent most of the time, communicating through their hands and a tablet much like the Ignihyde Housewarden. Shy and timid, they only seemed to open up around their three protective friends, hardly ever being seen from the side of at least one of them. 

It didn’t stop them from gaining a fanclub within days of arriving. 

When Rook Hunt threw himself at them out of nowhere with loud, flowery prose that sent them into a panic attack, Floyd sent the Vice-Housewarden through a wall. 

A long, very tense meeting with Housewarden Schoenheit behind closed doors ended with a golden contract that assured Rook wouldn’t be caught within fifty meters of the siren unless required specifically for classwork. 

In return, the blonde human wouldn’t become a missing persons case. 

The fact that Rook continued to stalk Leona Kingscholar but refrained from doing more than tip his hat politely at the silent mer in greeting from across a room spoke for itself.

After that only very very stupid students tried anything with the siren. Considering more than one mysteriously dropped out of NRC after badgering them too much or saying anything about them refusing to talk or sing…well they were idiots and the school was better off without them.

They had a special, reserved table, at Mostro Lounge where they could watch when Azul would hire a special musician. They helped Floyd cook in the kitchen sometimes, as long as they didn't have to work as the waitstaff. Most of the time, however, they spent in Azul’s office. School work and helping him come up with ideas and plans for the lounge were all done behind the privacy of silencing wards. It was one of the rare few places that they felt secure enough to speak, trusting Azul and the twins after years at their side. 

They never pushed their Angelfish, never tried to force or coerce them into singing for the lounge despite the undeniable truth that it would bring more money in a single night than they made in a whole month. They would never force their Pearl into a situation that made them uncomfortable or that upset them. 

They knew this. It was why they never feared Floyd, always holding their arms open in invitation for his notorious ‘squeezes’ and bringing him snacks and drinks during club. It was why they always tried Jade’s mushroom dishes and braved the more tame hikes with him despite being terrified of insects. It was why they looked at Azul like he hung the moon whenever the Housewarden would skillfully step into any conversation or moment where they felt overwhelmed and instantly force the attention away from them and onto himself.

Why they helped whenever he would have too much work, shuffling the octomer off to sleep to recover. Why they left notes on his desk, in his room, tucked into his uniform pockets, slipped into his textbooks, always with words of praise and compliments. Why they helped temper his more ruthless plans to something that wouldn’t taint his reputation. 

Why they were willing to be disowned by their family just for the chance of remaining at Azul’s side just a little longer.

Because they knew that even without their voice, Azul and the twins loved them. They never had to fear that love being taken away because they didn’t sing. Didn’t enthrall audiences and build an empire on fake adoration for the hope of a shred of affection. They knew that even if they never sang again they would never be abandoned.

It was why, every once in a while - long after the lounge had closed and the rest of the house was meant to be in bed - the enchanting song of the Octavinelle Siren filled the VIP office as they sang for the ones they loved.

The only ones they trusted their voice to.

It was why they threw themself into Azul’s arms on their graduation day when he presented them with a very special contract. 

One that came with matching pearl rings.

==================

Hope you all enjoy! I kind of panicked when I realized I almost missed MerMay again! lol Hopefully this is good enough. <3

Part of @rose-tea-and-strawberries childhood friend! AU

[howlingday]

So you really really really really don't like Mercury so what are your thoughts on Emerald?

Okay, I'm gonna put this out there, and I am well aware of the hypocrisy of what I'm about to say.

I like Emerald and I think she's earned her redemption reformation.

Now I know what some of you reading this are thinking. "How could you like Emerald, but not Mercury?! She's just as guilty as he is!" To which I respond, "No, she isn't."

In her first active role in "Best Day Ever," she and Mercury murdered Tukson. But wait! If you look carefully enough, we see that Emerald did aid in the assault, but she didn't deal the killing blow on the rebel Faunus. But accessory to murder is still just as bad as murder, technically speaking.

"But she's a thief, and thieves are bad!" is something I can also hear some of you say (starting to sound like Literature Devil here, but thankfully, I won't be as insulting). And yes, Emerald is a straight up thief and steals whatever lien she can, but that's kind of part of her allusion to Aladdin, who was also a thief, and both characters steal to survive. I would also like to direct your attention to other notable thieves that are just as beloved as Emerald, such as Sly Cooper, Catwoman, and Roman Torchwick, all of whom are bad guys, to some extent of evil or another, but all of them also have a chance to do good... Well, except Torchwick, but he's more interested in the thrill of the steal than in the mass murder of an entire city.

Which brings us to the defining scene that separates someone like Emerald from someone like Mercury...

Look at this. REALLY look at this. In this scene, we have Cinder Fall, admiring her handiwork at bringing both the White Fang AND the Grimm into Beacon, causing the deaths of hundreds, maybe even THOUSANDS of innocent people. And there's Mercury FUCKING RECORDING THE VIDEO WITH A SMILE ON HIS FACE! SERIOUSLY, HOW AM I THE BAD GUY FOR NOT LIKING HIM?! ...And then there's Emerald, who says, and I quote- Actually, you know what? Let's get the whole gang quoting here. Let's see what EVERYONE in this picture is saying. Oh, and in case you were wondering, this is from the transcript for the episode "Battle of Beacon":

Emerald is CLEARLY remorseful. So why does she keep doing this? Because of the same reason Harley Quinn was with the fucking Joker. Love.

Cinder: Beautiful.

Emerald: (with a sorrowful expression on her face) It's almost sad.

Cinder: It's horrendous. Focus on the Atlesian Knights.

Mercury: Oh, I'm getting all of it.

Cinder: Good. Continue the broadcast until the end.

Suddenly, a tremor rocks the three of them.

Cinder: And do not miss what happens next.

Cinder walks off as Mercury continues filming with an evil grin on his face, while Emerald's expression only grows more worrisome.

And that's her fatal flaw. She loved Cinder, either platonic or romantic, and she would have done ANYTHING for her. And when it turns out Cinder not only doesn't care about her, but about anyone, she leaves, but not before getting a teary-eyed good-bye with Mercury, who is leaving to help destroy the world with Tyrian.

"BUT WAIT! Why should Emerald get the redemption and not Mercury?!" Somebody cries from the distance. Because Emerald suddenly gets something Mercury doesn't anymore. Opportunity. She's got a chance to break free while Mercury is too far and away for her to help So sad for Mercury...

Anyway, where does that leave us with Emerald now? Is she truly redeemed? Is she only getting special treatment because she's a girl, like people on reddit are saying, and that Mercury deserves it more? In reverse order, no, no, and in a better place than she was before.

Emerald isn't redeemed yet, but she has a chance to be now that she's reformed. Real quick, I want to explain the difference between the two. When a character is reformed, it means that they are no longer doing something they were doing before, kind of like a guy who got out of jail and is now on parole. He's still an asshole, but he's not doing any crime things. When a character is redeemed, it means that they are no longer doing any of the harmful things they used to do and have completely made up for their mistakes in the past, kind of like a girl who used to bully kids in school but is now taking part in her community to not only stop bullying but preventing it from ever happening again. For an example of this, look at Discord and Sunset Shimmer from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Or for those of you who don't care for MLP, Zuko at the start of Book Three and Zuko by the end of Book Three.

In summary, Emerald hasn't redeemed herself yet to make up for her past mistakes (though mistake might be putting down "accessory to war crimes" just a nip), BUT she's on the right track for it. She's now out of Team Salem, with Team Ozma, and is now doing her part to save the world. And the fact that she's been like that since the start puts her MILES ahead of Mercury, even before her switch in Volume 8.

[tecnestheim962]

YES

And this is so important because in V5 when Yang first met him and found out about Oz and everything, she was so distrustful of him or rather Oz. And she hasn’t really been shown interacting that much with him. At least, that’s what I remember from V5 and V6, I would have to go back and watch it again to confirm.

And look at his reaction! He looks so confused like, “I thought you didn’t like me? And even if that wasn’t the case, I thought you just tolerated me like everyone else?”

I think after the stuff in V6 with Oscar going out of his way to help in spite of Oz, and his determination to try and fight even though he knows he doesn’t have much time and that Salem can’t be killed, working just as hard, if not harder than the rest of them in a completely new environment with no prior experience and not even the assistance of the old wizard that got him there in the first place, Yang views him differently.

She has always been the protective guardian (aside from Qrow of course) of the group. The confrontational one who is not afraid to use any means necessary to protect her friends and family. While Ruby is the leader that everyone looks to for a plan and hope, Yang is the one they look to for approval. If she doesn’t agree with something or someone, there’s tension in the whole group. If you get on her bad side, you will know it and deeply regret it.

Yang has always been one to speak through her actions, not because she can’t use her words effectively, because we all know that her words can and have been so powerful in the past. But, especially when it comes to affection, respect, and care, she uses her actions as her expressive medium.

I believe this was her way of expressing acceptance and letting him know that she considers him to be a part of the team just like everyone else. Her subtle way of letting him in. Not only does this reassure that she trusts and respects him. Not only is she letting her heavy guard down around him (her own walls and the protective barriers around her friends), but she is also pulling him within those barriers. He is now someone she wants to protect along with the others.

I think this contributes a lot to his “I was starting to feel like a part of the team.” He had just been completely let in. Everyone was finally starting to see him as Oscar and not just Ozpin’s successor. It was subtle, but Yangs actions no doubt made him feel integrated rather than separate from the rest of them, removing any tension that might have been left from her animosity towards Ozpin.

I could definitely be reading too much into this, but the fact that she was leaning on him for quite a bit of time was definitely intentional by the animators. I’d like to think that this is what it meant because I love my wholesome bean and I love Yang, and it just seems like something that’s plausible.

Let me know what you guys think!

Side note:

Another thing that I could see happening with this in mind is Yang leaning on him in a “Ha you’re so short that I can use you as an armrest!” Followed by aggressively ruffling his hair as if he’s her adorable baby brother.

I dunno, their sibling dynamic is so fluffy and adorable I love it!

Underrated character beat is Oscar realizing too late that Yang becoming the cool big sister you never knew you wanted is non-negotiable when you hang with this crew.

[mahvaladara]

Neer - BG3 Character Dev Questions

@cassieuncaged Baldur's Gate 3 Character Development Questions

For Neer (Neer is an OC from the Lore of Iasanera story). Applying the answers to the world of BG3

1: Where in the Faerûn is your Tav from?

He'd be a Reithwin survivor (as the Shaddowlands are simmilar to the Cursed Valley). A former noble and city ranger. He'd be a Selunite (though in the world he's from he's a worshiper of Nix, who's Iasanera's equivalent of Shar, having in count the goddess's behaviours and personalities, Selune is more like Nix than Nix like Shar).

2: What is your character's alignment?

Neutral good. Though he's usually quite lawful, he's not against bending the rules to fit his agenda and his morality.

3: Race and subclass?

Elf, high elf. Fey ancestry.

Druid - Circle of Stars multiclassing with Gloom Stalker.

4: If your Tav was a companion, where would they be found?

Last Light Inn or somewhere in the Shadowlands, scouting the abandoned battlefied on in one of the Reithwin building roofs with a moon lantern trying to map the corruption.

5: Dark Urge or no?

No. Noble background.

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

Gale. They both share a love for knowledge and an ambition for self improvement. They share a lot of knowledge with one another and Neer was actually the first to suggest to Gale that perhaps, he's just an educated sorcerer, the same way Neer is a wealthy druid.

Wyll. They have a simmilar background and origin. They do bond over baldurian history and feats of heroism. They have never met before, the Shadow Curse fell before Wyll and Duke Ravengard's time.

Shadowheart. They share some religious understanding and Neer understands her devotion and her religious crisys. Deep inside, he wonders if she's truly a Sharran. He respects her religion. But before she turns to Selune, he pokes fun at her.

He's indiferent to Lae'Zel. He doesn't get in her way, she doesn't get in his.

He loves drinking and laughing with Karlach and sees her as a friend.

Jaheira is his sister of arms, his mentor and both adores her sense of humor and has a large degree of admiration and respect for her.

But of all, he's more platonically close to Gale and Jaheira.

7: Romantically close with?

Halsin and/or Shadowheart/Astarion.

8: Who are they suspicious of?

Lae'Zel, Astarion, and Minthara. The Emperor.

9: Is your Tav from Baldur's Gate? Why are they travelling there?

No. He had been to Baldur's Gate, before the Shadow curse befell Reithwin. He was a member of a noble house and would often deal in diplomacy and politics, so he was often to Baldur's Gate dealing with a myriad of political businesses. Currently he was heading to Baldur's Gate in hopes of finding a solution for the Shadowcurse plaguing his home. Jaheira had sent him towards the Emerald Grove.

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

Piano and violin, as it is expected for a noble bred elf such as himself.

11: Weapon of choice?

Bow and arrow and Glayve.

12: What is their orientation?

Bissexual.

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

Necessary evil. They don't particularly enjoy killing, but they are an ambush ranger and are not against shooting someone down to achieve his agenda.

14: What hobbies does your Tav have?

Neer is into reading, playing music and gardening. And, though he'd never admit it or be caught doing it, Neer enjoys embroidery.

15: What NPC's do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

He likes Halsin, Zevlor, Duke Ravengard, Kith'rak Voss and Withers. Has a soft spot for Mol, and the tiefling kids. Adores Arabella but is also senses something brewing but has chosen to trust Withers. Enjoys Alfira's company. He also adores dame Aelyn. Has a healthy degree of respect for Nine-Fingers, Raphael and Auntie Ethel. He despises the Emperor, Mizora, Gortash and fuckiiing Oriiin.

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Faerûn?

Dire Wolves, dragons and tressyn. Adding owlbears to the bunch.

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

He does now. He'd never consider it when he was a noble man playing the politics game. But now he cannot see himself return to the posh, dull and pompous life of high-elven nobility.

18: What would your Tav be doing if they weren't kidnapped on the Nautiloid?

Probably trying to save Halsin from the Goblin camp anyway, as Jaheira would have pointed him towards the Emerald Grove and the Emerald Grove towards Halsin.

19: How do you think they'll meet they're end?

They had expected to be killed by the Shadow Curse or the abominations that dwell within it.

20: Would they destroy the elder brain or control it?

Destroy.

21: What is your Tav's favorite spell?

Telekinesis. Just yeet a bitch of a roof.

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

Common, elvish, druidic and celestial.

23: What do they do after the absolute crisis?

He returns to Reithwin with Halsin to run the commune.

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

Yes. He very much does. This was how the Emperor was so easy to manipulate him with the image of his late wife.

25: What arcana major best represents your Tav?

The Chariot Upright on his qualities, the Emperor Reversed on his flaws.

26: What animal best represents your Tav?

The Wolf - loyalty, strong family ties, good communication, education, understanding, and intelligence.

27: What was their life like before the events of BG3?

Neer, before the Shadow Curse was a noble man of a noble elven house, married and with a child. He was a very wealthy man with a high social standing and some political power in Reithwin. He worshiped Selune, and after the worship of the Moon Maiden was abolished he conformed (but worshipped Selune in secret) to maintain his social status and wealth and comfort of his family. After the Shadow Curse he became a lone-wolf ranger, working with the Harpers to find a solution to the curse. He started learning druidic magic under the guidance of Jaheira and the harpers.

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

He's the de facto leader. Neer was a noble and former politician. If he wasn't born with leadership skills, his parents made sure he learnt and acquired them from an early age. When Jaheira joins the party he suggests she takes the lead but she trusts his judgement. He's killed Ketheric and proved more than his worth.

29: Does your Tav want to utilize the tadpole powers or not?

Absolutely not. And now that he figured out who the Dream Visitor was? Absolutely not.

30: What's your favorite thing about your Tav?

Other than his overall looks? This guy is very confident and secure of himself and walks around with the smuggest of smiles ever. He has a "takes no shit" atitude. So yes, he told Lae'Zel her upside down bat nose was not any better than his dangling piece of flesh. He sometimes comes off as conceited, but he doesn't do it on purpose, just an overall result of his being of noble and wealthy background and having had the privilege to study and invest on his own personal growth.

[beneathashadytree]

Hello!! I wanted to request a cooking day with Albert? Just louis was out on a mission and Albert was there out of coincidence, and we find the true reason as to why hes not allowed in the kitchen

Pure crack really- considering nobody lets him in the kitchen for a reason LMAO

KITCHEN HAZARD - ALBERT MORIARTY X READER

Warnings : almost burning the house down, this can be read as platonic or romantic, Albert is a walking disaster, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : crack only ig?

Word count : 1.0K words

Additional notes : So sorry for taking a while getting to this, nonnie! I hope you understand my reasons for being so slow to get back to my writing routine. I hope you like this one! 💗

Requests: Are closed for the time being.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

They’d just hung their coat on the coatrack when an alarming clatter and clang came from the kitchen. They thought back to how they’d seen Louis set out earlier with William to meet up with the rest of the gang for a mission. And given that Jack had requested for a day off to get some affairs in order at the City Hall, that left only one possibility… one that had them running to the kitchen to put a stop to.

Indeed, there Albert was, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a frown on his face as he made to pick up all the pots and pans that now cluttered the floor.

“Oh dear,” they mumbled, quickly helping him and earning a look of surprise and a sheepish smile in return.

“I haven’t heard you come in,” Albert offered in form of an apology, “I would’ve told you to leave it to me and not worry.”

They gave him a pointed look as his fingers fumbled around a pan’s rim and nearly sent it tumbling once again. “I think seeing you in the kitchen in the first place is enough to make me worry.”

The man chuckled a little, though a faint flush climbed his cheeks. “That was one time.”

Shaking their head, they gently pushed him to the side. “I’m not taking any chances. Let me do the work.” They began to pull out the vegetables they needed from their weekly stock, already formulating the recipe they needed in their mind.

“At least let me help out?” Albert asked, clearly feeling bad that they were overworking themself once again, which had partially been the reason why he’d decided to take up the post for cooking in their place.

After hesitating for a second, they nodded. “Alright, you can wash up and cut the vegetables while I fix up the chicken.”

An eager look in his eyes, he took them from their hands and settled in front of the sink. Having thought that this task, at the very least, they could easily entrust to him, they turned back to the chicken Louis had so thoughtfully bought himself.

Halfway through skinning it, however, they were interrupted by a clatter, and a sharp intake of breath. Alarmed, they turned to find Albert pulling away from the cutting board with a rather deep cut on his index finger that now oozed blood.

“Good heavens, get away from the food!” they cried, ushering him away from possibly posing a health hazard, unhearing of his protests as they forced him to sit down while they fumbled for bandages from the overhead cupboard.

“Really, it’s just a surface scratch. It’s nothing, honestly.”

“Well, it isn’t to me,” they huffed, quick to return and dress the wound, much to his embarrassment. “Infections are widespread these days. I’m not taking any chances.” Their eyes were sharp as they met his emerald ones. “It’s best you stay out of the kitchen until I’m done with lunch.”

“I could do things that don’t directly involve food, maybe help around?” he offered once again, refusing to stand down.

Sighing, they could only wave a hand. “Fine. But this time, just get some oil in a pan. I’m going to simmer some onions, bell peppers, and carrots.”

“Well, I was halfway through cutting these.” Albert attempted to sound optimistic, though one glance at the mangled-looking vegetables had them arching their brow at him. Really, he had no right looking as wounded as he did as they rolled up their sleeves to chop them up properly.

While they busied themself with that, they left him to his devices as he mumbled under his breath, taking his time to figure out how the stove worked. They knew him to be a bit of a genius in his own right, so surely it wouldn’t take him long, and they could focus on the task at hand instead, setting aside each vegetable into a separate bowl once they were done with them.

“Bloody hell,” he hissed from their side, as a thunderous roar sounded the kitchen and startled them into nearly cutting off their entire index finger along with the carrot at hand.

A choked scream left them as they saw the flames engulfing the stove and swallowing the pan whole. “What did you do?!”

“All I did was throw in the onions.” Albert sounded miserable, and looked the part as well—which was only made worse by them looking back in horror.

“All at once at the highest flame possible?”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t… I suppose there’s only one setting available—“

Groaning as the smell of smoke and ashes permeated the area, they practically ran to search for a solution. “Less talking, more putting out the fire!”

“Water then—“

“No!”

***

Louis sniffed as he crossed the threshold of the mansion. That’s odd. It always smelled the exact same every single day, even after meals, because he made sure to air it quite well. This time, however…

He walked into the sitting room, where a very distinctly disheveled duo sat slumped against the back of a sofa, one looking more particularly distraught than the other, who seemed to have an air of guilt about him.

“Does either of you know why the mansion smells like caramelized incense? Or… something stronger?”

Albert looked slightly uncomfortable as he answered. “Now, brother, let’s not—“

“That man,” came a hard voice from beside him, their eyes still squeezed shut underneath their hand, “Is never allowed to enter the kitchen. As long as I shall live.”

“Ah,” Louis hummed in understanding, all the pieces clicking into place and forming the full picture. “Let me take the reins from here.”

They could only wave their free hand at him. Poor thing, Louis thought to himself as he slipped his gloves off and made his way to the smokey-smelling kitchen. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, learning first-hand just why their older brother was banned from ever testing his culinary skills.

Taglist: @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights @whitecelluyu @wifeofkyojuro

[angstandhappiness]

LMAO ACCURATE

Oscar: Do you ever wanna talk about your emotions, Emerald?

Emerald: No.

Ozpin: I do.

Oscar: I know, Oz.

Ozpin: I’m sad.

Oscar: I know, Oz.

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Emerald: Alright, so the vampire's gravestone is—

Oscar: Cenotaph.

Emerald: What?

Oscar: It's only a gravestone if it marks the location of a body. A monument honouring someone whose body isn't present is a cenotaph.

Emerald: I'm… not sure that's how it works if the body gets up and walks away on its own.

Oscar: There's a precedent for gravestones being reclassified as cenotaphs if the body is later removed and reinterred elsewhere. There's no rule that says the body itself can't do the removing.

Emerald: Okay, but the body is very much coming back. That's kind of what we're here to accomplish.

Oscar: So it's a temporary cenotaph.

Emerald: And naturally our greatest concern here is avoiding semantic ambiguity.

Oscar: Semantic ambiguity is how vampires get you.

Emerald: Like the Fairies? Or Demons?

Oscar: the Fae and the Demonic/Devilish follow the Letter of their Deals. Vampires are not as beholden to the definition of the words in their contracts.

[theroseempress]

Weaving and Finger Painting for the ask meme!

(Weaving: are your works typically similar to one another? Pick two works, and share one similarity and one difference between them.)

I don't know if I'd say my works are similar per se, but there's most definitely themes I gravitate towards, and as such most of my works have said themes in common.

As to what said themes are... I'm honestly not entirely sure, to be honest. I definitely like writing character interactions, so I guess most of my works have strong inter-character relationships? I also really like exploring platonic love (and in general find exploring various types of love/relationships fun) so there's that as well.

As to the two works, I'll pick The Golden City and Mercy City (placeholder title) since they're the two I've been recently working on. Similarity- the main protagonist of TGC's name is Felix and the main protagonist of MC's name is Felice Aside from their names, Felix and Felice are pretty similar in some aspects. Also each of these stories currently has City in the title. Difference- Well, the first thing that comes to mind is that MC has a magic system and TGC does not, just average humans. There's also a lot more groups of people up to their own agendas in MC than TGC.

(Finger Painting: share a small snippet from your earliest work (or the earliest that you can get back to). How would you rewrite it today? Either share the rewrite itself or just describe how you'd do it.)

Oh wow, my earliest work... Actually, hang on, I might be able to get that. One moment... Yeah, couldn't find my actual earliest work. It's hypothetically somewhere in my email, but I emailed it to someone when I was like 11 or something, so yeah.

My actual earliest work was a fantasy book where the main characters were horses, believe it or not. I called it Isles of the Endless Sea (which is honestly a very cool name) and it had like 3 or 4 books before I got bored halfway through the ending of one and just. stopped writing them haha.

IotES was honestly quite a good series despite the rather clunky writing (not blaming my past self, she did her best), I reread it recently and there's quite a few moments where I was like 'huh that's actually a really cool concept/line'. The first book's title was 'Night of Shadows' and I honestly can't figure out if that's a bit too dramatic or if it's actually a very cool title.

I'd like to try rewriting it someday, to be honest. If I did, the biggest change I'd make would be changing the characters to humans. I'd also adjust the plot a bit so it's less convoluted, and definitely change how ALL THE CHARACTERS are somehow related. (I'd just discovered the concept of 'secret evil sibling' and was very enamoured with it).

There's a snippet (the first book's prologue) under the cut! Notes specifically on the snippet... not that bad honestly. Formatting could definitely use some work. If I were to edit it now, I'd probably rewrite some of the lines, but overall quite good, especially for what was basically my first time writing.

“She will see you now.”

The white attendant stepped out of the way, and Reikan strode past him, into the throne room. The mare who waited there was beautiful, a deadly kind of beauty, however.

She was the color of polished black ebony, and had striped hooves. Her face was neatly structured, suggesting a hint of Arabian. The only flaw was a long scar,running down her jawline. It was not a ugly thing, merely a line where there was no hair. However, it served as a reminder of who she was to her legions. That and the sabre, that deadly curved sword, that hung in a sheath at her side. It had emeralds studded down the handle, and a blade many suspected was dipped in poison.

It was, in fact. A narrow tube ran down the blade, feeding from the tip, to a reservoir set in the handle, that was filled with adders venom! It had a plug at the tip, so that when it stabbed something , that plug would give leeway for a thin trickle of venom. If you felt the tip, you could feel a slight bump, the plug. However, no-horse felt the tip, as Ziara made most of her kills without using the poison at all.

But perhaps her most recognizable feature was her eyes. They were black, which was not a strange thing. But the kind of black..ah, that was strange. They were a deep black that if you stared into, you felt almost as if you were being sucked into a vacuum. When she was angry, the black gained a strange gleam to it. She was also a master of stares, and could make almost any horse feel the way she wanted them to.

Ziara was studying a map when Reikan entered. However, she greeted him before the door had even closed

“Reikan.”

Somewhat astonished at how she had know it was him, he bowed, and replied. “Milady”

Eyes spitting fire, she turned around.

“Reikan! How many times must I remind you? Do. Not. Call. Me. Milady!” “Apologies General. It was a slip of the tongue.”

The lethal mare returned to her previous state, one so charming it was impossible not to be awed by her beauty.

“Your report?”

[hyperfixation-hideout]

I'm so sorry I couldn't come up with a better name for Blake and Oscar but the existing name is cattree and I don't want it. Blackpines? I've also heard Blakeberry but idk I don't associate Oscar with berries. Feel free to share your suggestions bc I'm drawing a blake. Emerald City is used for both romantic and platonic shipping, so I left it. Also there's no improving on "Data Farms" believe me I've tried it's too good a name :P

If you have a different favorite lmk! It only let me put 10 options >:(

If you say Ozpin you're cheating and if you say Hazel I'm gonna throw something /j

[quazart]

The Emerald Comes First

(Modern/ X)Knuckles x (platonic!) Reader

He'd finally gotten the last piece of the emerald back. But, it being in the city had taken a while. Finding all the lost pieces had taken a while. Here he is, almost two weeks later, and barely finished.

Pathetic.

It was already a shame he'd let himself be cornered by that idiot doctor, giving him no choice but to shatter the very purpose of his being. But taking this long to find all the pieces? That made the guilt eat away at him even worse.

A growling interrupted his thoughts. He looked down at himself, disgruntled.

Or maybe it was just his stomach eating itself. 

Frowning, he carries on. It didn't matter right now. Once he was back on his island, then he could relax and eat something. 

He finds a tall enough jump point and leaps into the air. His dreads catching a gust and allowing him to ride the wind home. Picking a new current every once in a while to take him to his desired destination. 

His eyes are dry and red from lack of sleep and it takes effort to keep them open. He's so very tired, having slept little to none during his quest. 

But the emerald came first. He could recover later. 

Unfortunately for him, his body disagreed. His eyes droop and shut for, what felt like, only a moment. This little mistake sending him diving into another current and traveling in the wrong direction. His eyes snap open at the shift and he attempts to right himself before he could fall straight out of the sky. 

He growls and searches for another current to get him back on course. He had to be quick. His glide making him fall miles and miles the wrong way, with each passing minute. 

'There's one!'

He feels for it and turns. The strong gust sending him back where he was originally headed. 

A couple minutes pass before he finally sees his island come into view. 

He sighs, so close.

His excitement and relief cause his muscles to relax, for the first time in a while. He is very close to passing out from exhaustion.

He'd been fighting and searching with no breaks for a little over a week and a half, and his body was more than ready for rest. 

His eyes were beginning to fall again. Only one thought floating around in his mind kept him awake.

The emerald. 

He's just a couple yards away now. Almost there. He begins to zone out.

Until he suddenly finds his vision taken over by a face full of, '(y/n)?!'

You both yell in surprise, not having seen the other until a second before Knuckles crashed right into you.

"Puah!!"

"Oof!!"

Both of you fall over, the echidna landing ontop of you and sending you back a couple feet before stopping. The emerald pieces scatter around you both. Having fallen out of Knuckles grasp, upon impact.

You stay on the ground, unmoving, for a moment. Temporarily, K.O.'d by the sudden echidna's arrival. 

Knuckles was left dazed, but not from the impact. Yes, he was surprised to see you here, but his body is finally getting what it's needed, and he's not sure he can fight its urge to rest much longer.

He was home, his friend was here, the emerald was here.

Everything was fine.

'Wait, the emerald!'

With eyes half-lidded, but still alert,  he lifts his head enough to count the pieces of the gem, ensuring they were all still there. They were. He releases a breath he was holding, in relief, and puts his head back on your shoulder. You wouldn't mind if he took two minutes to rest his eyes would you? 

You were greatly surprised by your friends entrance. How had you not seen him? How did he not see you? A bright red echidna, or a human, on Angel Island? You don't see many humans here. Or any for that matter. Even mobians! How did he manage to run into you?

You take a good look at him. There are bags under his eyes. When did he last sleep? His frame seemed slightly slimmer compared to the last time you saw him. And his tail, which naturally stood raised high, laid limp behind him. He looked exhausted. 

"Knuckles?... Knux?"

He groans as you boop his snoot. A violet eye peeks at you. Letting you know he's listening, more or less.

"Knux, when was the last time you slept?"

He weakly shrugs. Closing his eye. His fatigued brain and body wanting nothing more than some lovely sleep. A fuzzy, blissful feeling just from closing his eyes, taking over his senses. Making him not even bother to fight anymore.

You glare, what does he mean by a shrug? He doesn't know, or it doesn't matter? Either one isn't good.

But apparently not bad enough.

His stomach rumbles, strong enough to practically shake his little frame. He curls in on himself with a grunt. The grumbling lessening, but not going away.

'The idiot hasn't been eating either?!'

Now very worried for him, you quickly sit up. While upsetting your friend, you didn't care. 

He remains in a dazed sitting position, watching as you quickly pick up all the emerald pieces and gesture for him to follow you. He gives you a blank face, but gets up. Or, tries to at least. His shaky limbs not wanting to cooperate with their neglectful owner. No sleep. No food. And on the move for almost two weeks, it was surprising he hadn't full on collapsed yet.

You sigh and frown, this is gonna take forever, unless you do something.

You walk over to where he's standing, his legs shaking under his weight, and gently pick him up and holding him like a sack of potatoes over your shoulder. Your arm looping over his side and back, and his limbs hanging on either side. His head facing behind you as you began your trek to the shrine.

Knowing where you were headed, and having  nothing else to do, Knuckles relaxed and dozed off in your hold. Too tired to argue or fight against the ridiculous way you held him. 

Although, he wouldn't admit it for the life of him, he secretly loved any and all physical contact. Especially when it came from you. You being the only one, of all his friends, that he trusted the most. Besides Sonic and Tails. 

He fell asleep to the sound of your steps and sway of your walk.

The poor idiot.

You tell him, time and time again, 'Take care of yourself or there won't be a guardian to watch over the M.E.', but does he listen? No! Of course not! You're just a human who knows nothing about mobians, let alone an ancient tribe and their ways of protecting a big green rock. It's not like you're his best friend or anything, who he's repeatedly told the history and importance of the emerald and the island to. Or how echidnas, and any mobians in general, have the same basic needs as humans, such as the need for rest and food! No, no. You were an ignorant little human. You didn't know what you were taking about. 

You take a deep breath and sigh, looking at your friend. Sound asleep.  No. You couldn't blame him too much.

For neglecting himself, definitely yes.

His poor stomach still complaining, even after he'd fallen asleep.

You sigh.

You're upset, but you do understand where his stubborn efforts were coming from. 

His job, since he could remember, had been compromised. His self-claimed ,'soul purpose' ,being taken away from him. Of course he'd do everything in his power to get it back, a.s.a.p.

You just wish he'd also dedicate some time to take better care of himself, along the way.

You make it up the shrine. Kneeling down to put the emerald shards in the pile he'd started and covering it with a net like device you'd brought, that Tails had made. With the push of a button it would act as a cage that would camouflage whatever was underneath it. Along with a defense system that would electrocute anybody that doesn't have a programmed chaos energy reading or DNA signature within a ten yard vicinity on the x, y and z axis, so nobody could get anywhere near it.

You didn't know how to put the M.E. back together and probably couldn't if you did. It was his thing. An echidna thing. So you leave it as it is, and walk down the steps.

You make your way to a small house Knuckles had recently fixed up, after you'd scolded and cared for him after getting sick from staying out when it was snowing, a couple months back. You walk in, bend down a bit to get through the door, and take him to his bed. Well, it was a hammock, but he used it as a bed so, same thing.

You look for his blankets and pillow to set him up with. He always folded and put them away after using them. You guessed to either keep the house tidy, or to keep them as nicely kept as the day you brought them for him. Once that's that, you turn away from him.  Wondering when he'd wake up. And what to do in the meantime.

A groan from behind you brings your attention back to your friend. 

The sleeping echidna turns in his hammock with a grimace, curling into himself and holding his middle, but doesn't wake up.

You sigh.

That's what you'll do, while you wait, then.

It's not for another three hours before he wakes up.

At first, he's confused.

How did he get here?

'Where's the emerald!'

He quickly sits up. Vision spinning from the sudden move. He holds his head for a second, giving it a little shake. 

He looks around and finds you in the kitchen, washing a dish, he guessed you'd probably just used.

His senses finally awaken along with the rest of him. His stomach cramps at the smell of food. A pained noise escaping him. 

You hear his short cry and see him sitting up with an arm gripping his abdomen.

"Well good morning sleeping beauty." 

He frowns. You'd told him about human stories before. Human Princess stories, to be exact. So he understood your tease with little to no amusement. 

You laughed at his expression. 

"Put that face away you grump and come and eat."

His eyes gave away his interest for the food, but he didn't move. 

"Where's the emerald." He asks pointedly.

"Up on the shrine, and don't worry. It's protected."

Now he tries to stand up, but his legs shake under him and give way. He falls to all fours with a gasp, and you hurry over to him. Now slightly rested and fully conscious, his pride was touchy, so you just help him to his feet rather than pick him up again. He grumbles under his breath about being fine,  or something along those lines, but accepts your help nonetheless. 

"It's alright Knux, just sit down. I'll bring it to you."

He shakes his head," No. I need to get to the emerald."

Now it your turn to frown. "Um, no, I don't think so. You're staying here. "

"Oh? And who's gonna stop me? You?" He taunts, but not in an entirely joking manner. 

You glare at him and suddenly release him, for only a second.

"Woah!!"

Surprising him as he fell straight to the ground... almost.

You scruff him at the last second and stand him back up.

"You were saying?"

He turns away, crossing his arms. Glaring and mumbling again about who knows what.

You do pick him up this time, but just to get him back to bed.

"I don't need your help. I don't need anymore rest. I need to get to the emerald."

You look him over for a second."Not a chance."

His eyes widen, looking incredulous.

"Look kid, you can barely stand. Let alone walk over to and go up the stairs to the shrine. And then to use even more energy to put it back together? I don't think so."

He looks away from you. Angered by your argument and his predicament. His fatigued and starved body not helping his crabby attitude. 

"Well, then why can't you take me there? So I can see for myself it's safe, at least?!"

You walk away toward the kitchen again, getting a bowl and spoon.

" Is my word not good enough for you? The emerald is fine. And, no."

His jaw nearly drops, and he glares."So, that's it then! You're just gonna leave me here?! I thought we were friends! Isn't that what they're supposed to do? Help each other when one is in need!?"

You fill up his bowl and grab a glass with water. Bringing it over to him.

"Well, yes, friends help their friends. Especially when they're in need." 

"Well this is a need. A big need. I Need your help to get me to the emerald. Right about now would be preferable."

You sit beside him on a stool and place the water next to him on a little nightstand beside you two. The bowl of soup still in your hands, as you stir to cool it off.

"I thought I already said no?"

"Wha-! What is your deal?! Why not!"

"Why, so you can ignore my wishes and think,'Hey, I'm already here. Might as well put the emerald back together and get this island off the ground!' And then I'd have to pick up your comatose tail back to your hammock and fend off harder thieves like Rouge or Eggman by myself, on a floating island. Oh, yes, have the flightless, glide-less, not as durable as a mobian-human fight the tougher bad guys AND take care of you while you're unconscious."

He growls and crossed his arms again. Then you act like you'd just had an idea.

"Ah, you know what? I have a better idea."

He's about to snark and argue with you again, but you hold the bowl you had right infront of his muzzle. The strong smell of the broth and herbs getting to him, and sending another cramp through his torso. 

You look him in the eyes. A serious frown on your face. 

"Eat. Rest. Get better. Then, you'll be able to take yourself, whenever you want. I won't stop you."

He growls in frustration turning away from the bowl, but his stomach decides for him. A painful groan encouraging him to take the soup. Albeit, with a begrudged look on his face, but at least he's eating.

You walk away to give him space.

"And don't worry so much about the emerald. With the island already down, and you huddled up here, nobody would think to come here. Tails' invention will keep the emerald, along with it's energy signature, hidden. Without the emerald, the island doesn't float. No floating island or guardian, no precious emerald....I'll be at the shrine."

He watches as you leave the house. His earlier attitude fading away. You were right. What better time to recover than when the island looked emerald-less.

He looks down at himself. Cozied up with the blankets and pillows you'd gotten him. And a hot meal he never asked you to make.

His insides turn.

You'd been treating him like a friend since he'd gotten back. Maybe better than a friend. And he'd done nothing but argue and claim otherwise since he'd woken up. After you'd probably been watching over his island the entire time he was gone. Without him asking that of you either.

Thinking ahead, keeping the shards he'd already brought, safe. Keeping his home safe and secure.

And after all that. He just had to push and question your loyalty as a friend. All because he didn't get what he wanted. Even though you'd given him what he sorely needed.

He sighs. Setting his spoon back in the bowl. He was starving. Those couple of spoon fulls doing nothing but taunt his stomach. But after you'd departed, so did his appetite.

He set aside the bowl on the nightstand, beside his water, and tries to get up again. He knew if he didn't apologize now, he'd lose the courage to later.

He slowly stands on shaky legs.

He takes a breath and steadies himself. His feet holding firm enough, he begins a slow trek to the shrine. 

Sure enough, there you are.

He'd just come to the clearing where the altar sat and he could see you at the top of the stairs. Keeping lookout, especially now that all the emeralds pieces were together, you knew they'd need watching out for,  now more than ever.

He looks ahead and makes his way to you.

He doesn't make it very far before you disappear. Only to reappear behind him. Your sudden appearance startling him aback, he almost trips over himself.

He always hated when you did that.

You saw him coming even before reaching the clearing. Even among the lush forest greenery, a bright red echidna can catch your eye instantly. You looked away and fumed for a bit and quickly decided to mess with him. Not only for not resting like you'd told him, but to get a little even for how he acted earlier.

And it worked. 

Knuckles hadn't seen you leave the altar and so missed you coming up behind him.

" What are you doing here?"

You asked, making him nearly jump out of his sneakers. You knew he was a little out of it, but you didn't think it was this bad.

He turns to see you, his mouth opening like he had something to say, but closing again. He repeated this again, but still said nothing.

While amusing, you were still very much upset.

"While I do find your fish impression pretty impressive, once again, I ask, why are you here?"

He looked down towards his feet. A couple bugs scurried about, distracting him for a moment. He knew what he wanted to say. So why couldn't he say it?!

'She's your best friend. You aren't a coward, are you?' He repeats in his mind.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you.

"Look, I just wanted to say.. I'm sorry. I know you were trying to help me, but..I didn't see that. I thought you didn't care about what needed to be done. That you didn't respect me or my job. But you did.. you do. You didn't give me what I wanted, but you did give me what I desperately needed. Even if i couldn't see it and fought you over it, you fought back for my own wellbeing. And..I'm sorry for taking you for granted like that, and for questioning you and acting like a jerk. If anybody wasn't acting like a good friend, it was me."

You stare at him for what felt like an hour to him, then reply with a frown. 

"Knux, I'll always be there for you, whether you like it or not. And as much as I appreciate and accept your apology, you really shouldn't be here. You're still doing exactly the opposite of what you should be doing."

He doesn't understand. Shouldn't his apology have made things better?

"Look at me Knux, forget the emerald for now, it's safe. Forget about me for now, I'm safe, and I'm not mad at you, or going anywhere. You,-" you poke his forehead. He gives an almost cross eyed frown.

"You've done your job for now. You should be resting back in bed. Did you even finish the bowl I gave you?"

He frowns and dry swallows, giving you your answer. You roll your eyes. 

"How many times-."

You pick him up over your shoulder, the same way you'd done earlier, with one arm. And surprisingly, he doesn't seem to mind. His head turns towards you as you spoke.

 "You come first Knux. Before the emerald. Before the island. Without you, the emerald has no guardian." He tries to argue, but you quickly shut him down.

"But I-"

"shush*"

He blinks,"Ah? Did you just shush me-"

"Shhh."

He gave you an annoyed look, but doesn't comment anymore. Just glad you were still friends and you weren't mad at him.

You both get back to the house quicker than if you'd let him walk on his own.

You let him down to get to bed, while you get him a fresh bowl of soup.

He doesn't even bother to put the covers over himself. He just drops himself into his hammock. The hanging bed, swinging him back and forth. His fatigue weighing on him even more, now that he was accepting it.

You come over and hand him the food. With his appetite suddenly returned, he quickly sits up and eats.

After polishing off a couple bowls, he thanks you and hands you his dish after you'd come to take it. Laying down, he just stares at his ceiling. Listening to you moving about in the kitchen and then saying you'll be back, as you go to keep watch again.

He nods, and at the same time, thinking about you. His friend, who would keep a lookout for his island and the emerald. Looking out for him. The nice thoughts helping him to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

Just as your out the door, you hear his snoring and smile.

Finally!