#rose noble character of all time. i love you.

[lesbianliutana]

like i can not stress enough despite my issues with some things how much i respect russell t davies for getting the opportunity to write an anniversary special for one of The british pieces of media ever now of all times and deciding that the importance of loving and caring for trans children would be integral to it. you can save millions of people all you need to do is love your trans daughter more than anything in the world.

[elizabethemerald]

The Future of the Pantheon of the Gods

@prehistoric-catgirl added onto @stealingyourbones 's post about Random DC characters interacting with DP characters. Her character was Cassie Sandsmark and she created a prompt where-in Cassie is assigned to become part of the new Pantheon and to seek out other members of the new Pantheon, including Danny Phantom who will be the new God of Death.

Masterpost

***

"Is this true?" Cassandra Sandsmark asked.

Cassie, Donna Troy and Diana Prince, stood before the gathered gods of Olympus. Cassie had been surprised to be summoned alongside the original Wonder Woman and the first Wonder Girl, her mentor and greatest inspiration respectively, to stand before the Olympians.

"Yes. Though we have tried to stop the decline, the truth is the gods are dying." Zeus rumbled, ozone and petrichor filling her nose as he spoke.

Cassie hadn't wanted to bring it up, but the gods around them did seem... older... weaker than they ever had been. They were still far over any mortal, but even with all the gathered Olympians the air was suffocated by their power like it had been even a few years before.

"Is there some way we can assist?" Donna asked, looking around them and no doubt cataloging the same changes Cassie had noticed.

Hera smiled at the trio of Wonder Women.

"Your noble spirit is why we have summoned you, but there is nothing that can be done to save us now." The words had a weight of surety to them. Everything had already been tried. The end of the Olympians was inevitable.

"The worship from the mortals has declined in recent centuries." The ground rumbled and shook under her feet as Poseidon spoke. "We are not as powerful now as we were a decade ago and in another decade more our infirmity will only grow."

Hades spoke next, his voice cracking with cold that stole Cassie's breath away. "There were some of us who felt we should just fade away, if the mortals no longer wished to worship us, then they can see how well they do without our influence over our domains."

"However, the rest of us wanted to ensure our domains remained to serve the humans even after our passing." Hera said, her words like a gavel. "The solution we have reached is to pass on our mantels to new, worthy successors. Those who have some skill with our domains, unshakable moral codes, and a deep love for their fellow mortals."

Cassie pondered the words of the Gods in the following silence. Then her eyes widened and her head whipped up to meet the eyes of Zeus who smiled at them as she gasped.

"Yes, we plan to pass on our duties to heroes such as yourselves." He declared, his arms open, magnanimously.

Cassie could see that Donna and Diana were as shocked as she was, though both of them kept their gasps silent. Diana gave a short bow.

"If there is no other way, than is a duty I can bare." She said.

"Not you Diana." Hades said, his empty eyes capturing them each in turn. "You have your own purpose among the new Pantheon, God-killer."

Diana stiffened and rose to face the Olympians once more, her shoulders set. Hera was the one to speak next.

"We decided those best to handle the weight of the cosmos would be those who are young enough to grow into their new roles. There are many such young heroes in your world who could train alongside us before our decline is complete."

"And if they should fall short of your standards, you expect me to serve as their executioner." Diana's disdain could have only been more clear if she had spat on the floor.

"Yes." Poseidon snapped like the crash of wave. "The power we have, that we are offering is too great to exist without some kind of check to prevent its abuse."

"Besides," spoke Athena for the first time, her eyes still filled with power despite her declining worship. "How many problems have been created for the mortals by the petty squabbles of those who sit on these thrones? We believe you, Diana, will be a worthy mentor for our successors, but you will not be among them. Always apart, always with your sword ready."

Diana's fury burned off her in waves, hating the idea that she would have to turn her blade against some of the junior heroes that she had helped raise, and seen grow up. Cassie swore she could hear her grinding her teeth and was afraid that Diana would decide to end the Pantheon right there.

"So! Who is it you have decided to be your successors?" Donna spoke up quickly, clearly thinking the same thing Cassie was.

"We have consulted the greatest oracles and soothsayers and each of us have chosen one who will suit." Hera said. "Zeus, why don't you go first."

Zeus held his hands out towards Donna. His eyes locked on hers. He stepped down from his dais as Donna stepped back, her eyes the size of dinner plates.

"Who else could take my place other than the sister of our dear Diana, who has proven her metal through lifetimes of strength and suffering. Donna Troy, you will be the next Queen of Olympus."

Donna looked like she might pass out, but shook the shock off and stood firm, earning her a proud smile from Zeus. Cassie patted her on the back, proud of her idol for everything she has accomplished.

"And you Cassandra, daughter of Zeus will take my place as the Goddess of War." Ares declared. "As you should."

Cassie carefully kept her snarl inside, her problems with her "brother" Ares was better left for when she was away from the rest of the Pantheon. At least if she were the Goddess of War, she wouldn't revel in the violence like he always did.

"We will not transfer our power now." Zeus spoke up again, returning to his throne. "Once the New Pantheon is assembled we will hand over our mantels, retaining only a fraction of our power to train our successors."

"Your responsibilities, and the reason we called you first, is so that you may notify those who will join you by your side." Hera said, settling to the details of their mission. "Diana, you will inform the mentors of these young heroes to prevent a panic. Diana, many of these are known to you, and you are known to them, so you will be the primary contact."

Hermes and Athena stepped forward to hand off scrolls to the two of them. Cassie fought to keep her emotions neutral. She would help no one by pouting at being redundant. Diana and Donna looked closely at the scrolls, their faces journeying through emotions as they considered the names.

"And you Cassandra," Cassie looked up in surprise at being addressed by Hades. "There are other heroes that you must reach out to who are not known to your organization, including my own successor."

"Secret would be a perfect-" Cassie started, quick to suggest her own teammate before Hades cut her off.

"No!" He snapped, the word stealing her breath away, forcing her to gasp and clutch her chest. "Your companion does have skills with regards to my domain, but there is another whose power and dominion of death is absolute. He is already a king in his own right, and his connection to life remains strong enough that he would be able to sympathize with the mortals. While he is unknown to your Justice League he is know and beloved to me."

Cassie nodded her head as another scroll, this one cold as ice was handed to her by Hermes. She couldn't help but be impressed by whoever this person is. She hadn't heard Hades call anything beloved other than Persephone in all the time she had known him. She looked at the names and coordinates on the scroll.

"Who on Earth is Phantom?"

[jeankluv]

But daddy I love him - Satoru Gojo [ch.05]

short series

summary: If there was a phrase that could describe you, it was; good girl. You had been a good girl all your life, following your father's orders and being as modest as possible. You had focused your entire life on being a perfect lady, one who could be a good wife in the future. This is how you had been raised and how you had been instructed. But your whole world was shaken when one warm summer morning, your eyes met the bold, defiant and sharp gaze of a young man with white hair.

tags: 18, female!reader, set in 1700s-1800s, loss of virginity, misogyny language and thinking, oral sex, fingering, innocent oc, unsafe sex, vaginal sex, manipulative, eating disorders, abusive parents, no use of y/n, mention of pregnancy, mentions of abortion, character death, nightmares

words: 5,2k

Notes: enjoy this last chapter, just know that the epilogue still needs to happen 💋

ch.01 | ch.02 | ch.03 | ch.04 | ch.05 | epilogue

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist

Your gaze was on the window, you had barely moved a muscle since the sun had risen. But it had been like that since your father read that letter. You didn't know how much time had passed, you had stopped counting, the only thing you knew was that summer was coming to an end. Was it September? You didn't know, nothing mattered to you anymore.

You knew Rose was in the room, despite everything she still came and took care of you. Every morning she was there, trying to cheer you up and make you smile again, to pick up one of your books, to go to the market with her.

The only time you got out of your bedroom was when Mr. Harrison visited. You felt nauseous when seeing him and when he talked about how excited he was to take you with him to his house and finally have an heir. You felt sick to your stomach, but you stood there in silence, feeling how your heart didn’t beat anymore.

“My lady…” Rose whispered. “You need to take the herbs.”

You turned your head and looked at Rose. “Don't you think that if there was a baby, that baby is no longer there?”

Rose grimaced and sat up on the bed. “I don't know, my lady. But your mother insists that she keep drinking it until you bleed again.” You just nodded and took the glass from her hands.

You felt the bitter taste pass through your throat and the unpleasant smell invade your nostrils. It was so unpleasant that your eyes watered and a gag shot up your throat. You closed your eyes tightly and swallowed.

“I know you don't want to hear this…” Rose whispered. “But the wedding is in three days.”

“You won’t come with me right.” You raised your knees and rested your forehead on them.

“No, my lady.” You could notice the anguish and sadness in her tone. “Mr. Harrison doesn't want anyone from the house to accompany you, he will provide you with maids in his house."

You closed your eyes and nodded. “You can leave now Rose.”

“My lady… please eat something.” She said walking towards the door.

You heard the door open and then close. You sighed heavily and lay back down on the bed, looking again at the blue sky outside. No matter how much you thought about Satoru, you had a hard time believing, you had a hard time accepting that everything had been a hoax. That you had been manipulated by him.

Maybe it was the fault of your heart, the fault of falling in love the way you did for that man with white hair and crystalline eyes. Maybe it was all your fault and you should never have given him your heart the way you gave it to him.

But his voice and his words echoed in your head.

Trust me.

We will live in a house by the sea, you will have your own library.

I don’t plan on hurting you.

His memory was fresh in your mind and the pain was intense.

You rolled over yourself and you cowered between the sheets, mulling over the matter. The letter talked about some documents, something about the nobles. Satoru told you about it, how your family and a few others had refused the king's reform proposal 20 years ago and had paid for it. And some time later Satoru's parents had been murdered and Satoru's brother had spent his entire life investigating to clarify the facts and they had taken him to your family.

There was something that didn't quite fit you in that whole matter and that is, if Satoru was thinking of betraying you from the beginning, why did he tell you the plan he had in the middle? Maybe he thought you were going to be extremely stupid not to say anything.

You shook your head and tried to remember the last encounter between the two of you.

“I told you.” He said with a smile. “Before you finish your second book I will be back.”

“I trust you.” You whispered.

“Just… believe me.”

Were those promises empty? You stood up from the bed and walked around your room, feeling your body aching and heavy.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that Satoru knew something was happening. And that’s why he looked like that the last time you saw him.

Covering yourself with a thin jacket, you left the room and walked looking for a specific figure. If Rose was your most trusted person in that house, that person was the second most trusted.

When your eyes met his straight figure and his gaze looking straight ahead, you smiled and approached him.

“Nanami.” You whispered causing his head to turn in your direction.

“My lady.” He said, bowing his head subtly to show her respect.

“Nanami, I need your help. But first walk me to my room.” You turned around. “I don't want anyone to hear us.” You walked, feeling Nanami's footsteps on your back.

When you got to your room, you made sure that no one was in the hallway and you closed the door. You walked to the couch and looked at Nanami.

"I need you to do me a favor." Nanami nodded slightly. “I have a feeling that something happened to Duke Gojo and I would like you to check it out. You and Rose are the people I trust the most, which is why I want to entrust you with this mission.”

“I will gladly do it my lady.” He said bowing.

“But before you leave, my parents are gone, right?” Nanami nodded and you felt your heart accelerate at the idea that had been established in your mind. “I need you to accompany me to my father's office and watch the door while I look for something.”

“No problem my lady.” You smiled and thanked him.

Waiting for a while to pass, you and Nanami left the room, trying not to be seen by any curious eyes. As you stood in front of the door of your father's office, you felt your heart pound and your nerves begin to attack your body. You took a breath and looked at Nanami, who nodded giving you the signal to enter.

Nanami stayed outside, keeping watch and preventing anyone else from entering. You moved through the room quietly and carefully, and among the pile of papers and letters that were on the desk you began to search and read, wanting to find something, some clue that would indicate that Satoru had not lied to you, that there was something more behind all that.

You found two letters that caught your attention, one of them had a stamp that you didn't recognize and the other was a letter addressed to your parents. It was a letter from one of the servants informing your parents about how you had been having premarital relations with the duke. You crumpled the letter slightly and sighed, there was nothing you could do about it now.

You took the letter with the unknown seal and began to read, the letter was addressed to your parents and talked about the crown prince and how to change the balance in favor of the person who sent the letter.

“My lady.” Nanami called you. “I think it’s better if we leave.” You nodded.

With that letter in your hands, you left the office followed by Nanami's steps. You felt your heart racing, that letter could mean something. You knew that Satoru was a friend of the crown prince and that your parents had not disagreed with the king's reforms, so this could mean something. But that seal, you didn't know which house it belonged to, nor were the names known.

“Nanami.” You called him when you got to the room and, uncrumpling the letter, you showed it to him. “Do you know this seal?”

You could see how Nanami was stunned looking at the letter. “Was this in his father's office?” You nodded confused. “My lady, if this letter is found by the palace, the entire family will be condemned for treason.”

You opened your eyes surprised. "What? What do you mean?" Nanami sighed and pointed to the seal.

“The seal belongs to the king's brother, that is, to the uncle of the future king.” You looked at him confused, you had never heard of the current king having a brother. “You are young to remember, but the king had a little brother. He was sent into exile after he tried to assassinate the prince. The king took pity on him and did not kill him, he simply exiled him.” You opened your mouth in surprise.

“Did this person have anything to do with the event 20 years ago? Where several noble families opposed the king?” Nanami nodded and you sighed. “Nanami, I fear that the duke knew about this and that something has happened to him.” You looked at him. “Please find out.” Nanami nodded once again.

“I will leave right now my lady.” He bowed his head and left your room.

When the door closed and you were alone in your room again, you sat on your bed and put your hands to your face, terrified to think that something could have happened to Satoru and that your parents knew about it.

It was terrifying to think that Satoru could be… No, no. You shook those thoughts out of your head and tried to think positively. That Satoru hadn't betrayed you and that he would be fine. You just needed Nanami to return and confirm all your suspicions. And you prayed that this would happen before the wedding that would take place in three days.

Lying in bed, you stared at the ceiling, the night darken the room and the accumulated fatigue that you were carrying covered you peacefully. But it was not like that. That night you couldn't rest.

Nightmares tormented you. The image of a dead Satoru haunted you throughout the night, reflecting in your tired eyes every time you closed them. The dreams were vivid and unrelenting, showing you scenes of Satoru lying lifeless, his once vibrant presence reduced to an eerie stillness. You saw his bright blue eyes, usually full of mischief and warmth, now dull and empty. You watched as the confident smile faded, replaced by an expression of eternal peace that brought you no comfort.

You tossed and turned, the sheets tangling around your legs as you struggled to find a way out of the nightmare. Every time you woke up suddenly, your heart would race and your breathing would be difficult. The silence of the room was oppressive and the darkness suffocating, leaving you gasping for air with every breath you tried to take.

You shifted between the sheets when the first rays of the sun began to penetrate through the curtains. A new day began and in your mind and heart there was only the anguish of knowing Satoru's whereabouts and condition. You got out of bed and opened the window, letting the breeze fill the room and the smell of the sea occupy your nostrils.

“My lady?” Rose entered the room with a surprise look on her face.

“Rose…” You smiled at her. “Good morning.”

“My lady, how are you feeling?” She approached you and held your hands with care.

“I am…” You sighed. Not knowing what to respond.

“It’s okay my lady.” She tried to calm you down.

You sat down on your dresser and looked at her through the mirror. “I send Nanami to investigate the whereabouts of the duke.” Rose looked at you, intrigued to know more. “Rose, I think something happened to the duke and I think my parents have been involved.”

Rose swallowed and opened her eyes slightly. “My lady, are you sure?”

You nodded and clenched your fists. “If it's true... and what they did is discovered, the palace will kill us.”

“My lady”

“Rose, we must find some way to leave this place before the wedding, if Nanami does not arrive with news before.”

Rose nodded. “I will be with you my lady.”

You felt your chest fill and your eyes water as you realized you weren't alone. “Thank you Rose, thank you.”

“No problem my lady.” She gave you a warm smile. “But my lady…” You looked at her. “Your parents and Mr. Harrison will be arriving today.”

You sighed. “Alright.”

The morning and part of the afternoon passed faster than you would have liked. Anguish and uncertainty had established themselves in your body, they almost seemed like an extension of you, one that was dragging you down. Your hands were sweaty and your heart rate was fast, having to meet your parents and Mr. Harrison was like putting a noose around you. You were afraid but you wanted to be brave, even if it was for once in your life, you didn't want to tremble.

The carriage carrying your parents and Mr.Harrison arrived and now you looked at your reflection in the mirror while Rose brushed your hair. Your gaze was fixed on your face but at the same time not, you were lost in your own thoughts, trying to find something so that the wedding would be delayed or canceled.

“My lady…” Rose whispered as she let the brush down. “I have an idea that might help us win some time.”

You looked up and looked at Rose through the mirror. "Tell me." Rose leaned close to your ear and whispered her idea to you.

It was crazy but it would be a shock and Mr. Harrison would even want to cancel the wedding. You lightly laughed and looked at Rose.

"Thank you."

“I am here for you my lady.”

You looked out the window and saw how the sun was setting in the sea. You took a deep breath and stood up from the chair. The room was beginning to be illuminated only by the specifically placed candlelight. Asking Rose to wait for you in the room, you left and walked through the hallways, feeling your legs give out with every step you took.

You looked out the window and saw how the sun was setting in the sea. You took a deep breath and stood up from the chair. The room was beginning to be illuminated only by the specifically placed chandeliers. Asking Rose to wait for you in the room, you left and walked through the hallways, feeling your legs give out with every step you took.

The room was filled with the faint smell of old books and ink, a testament to the countless hours spent here studying and negotiating.

Your parents sat on the side of the desk, their expressions a mix of expectation and concern. Mr. Harrison was standing by the window, his back to you as he watched the darkening night. The silence in the room was oppressive, the weight of the impending conversation pressing down on you.

“Just two more days and we will all be family.” Your father proudly smiled.

“Yeah.” Mr. Harrison proudly sat on the chair. “Hopefully a baby will also come soon.” He looked at you and you felt nauseous.

You took a deep breath and stood up in your seat, trying to show a little confidence and strength. “Father, mother, my hand has already been asked for by another man.” You spoke without showing any hint of tremor.

You knew that talking about this in front of Mr. Harrison was not the right thing to do but you had to find some way to escape from this or the wedding would be delayed.

Your mother ground her teeth and said your name in a harsh, cutting tone. "Shut up."

“Darling.” Mr. Harrison called you, with that nickname that ok his lips sounded so disgusting. “Duke Gojo only came here and used you. You really want to marry that boy?”

You clenched your fists and clenched your teeth as you looked at the cynical smile that had spread across his face. Your blood boiled as the atmosphere in the office became increasingly overwhelming and cutting.

You wanted to get out of there but you couldn't, you had to delay that wedding. Or else, in two days you would be damned forever.

“Honey.” Your father spoke, with that false tone that you had already gotten used to hearing. “Mr. Harrison is right, don't you think about the damage that boy has done to us?”

Looking at him you wanted to laugh out of anger and ask your parents if they knew the damage they had caused to you for years and that Satoru had been the only one who had managed to make you feel alive.

Filling your lungs with air you spoke or rather screamed. “But daddy I love him!”

It had been years since you stopped calling your father that, but you knew that if you threw a tantrum in the middle of that place, your parents would be embarrassed and maybe, with luck, Mr. Harrison would put the wedding on hold.

You looked at their faces and could see how your mother was red with rage and your father clenched his teeth tightly.

“Well darling.” Mr. Harrison spoke, cutting the tension in the air. “I’m sure you will grow to love me too.”

You bit your lip and the crazy idea that Rose had proposed crossed your mind. What else could you lose?

“I’m having his baby!” You said out loud.

“What?!” Your mother and father screamed with speechless looks on their faces.

Out of the corner of your eye you looked at Mr. Harrison, who had his mouth slightly open and his face, like your parents', was a poem.

“This…” Mr. Harrison began and slightly smirked. “This is humiliating.” He turned to look at your father. “Did you know?”

“Mr. Harrison, I…” Your father stuttered trying to find some words, but they all got stuck in his throat.

“You stupid bitch.” Your mother approached you and held your arm tightly, you narrowed your eyes, feeling his nails dig into your skin. "Didn't you take the herbs that the doctor prepared for you?"

“Yes mother, apparently they didn’t work.” You smirked.

“You stupid bitch.” She slapped you and your head turned to the side, leaving you breathless.

Stunned by the slap heard how your father tried to reason with Mr. Harrison and how your mother also joined in.

They weren’t hiding anything anymore, how that marriage was going to bring them a large amount of money and how Mr. Harrison was also going to support the king’s brother's return. You smile when you hear those words, it was the confirmation you needed that those letters were real and that most likely there were more.

You left the room and practically ran to your room. Your heart was thundering in your ears and your head hurt from the enormous pressure you felt. It was almost like you were going to pass out before you could get to your room.

Holding onto the doorknob you entered your room and leaned your forehead against the door once you closed it. Trying to make your heart calm down and air return to your lungs.

“My lady…” You heard Rose approaching you from behind.

“Rose I need a minute, but…” You began to talk.

“My lady.” You froze and turned yourself to look at the man that just talked.

“Nanami!” You said breathless and looking at him.

“My lady.” He looked at you, then at Rose and then back at you. He took a deep breath and then you heard his words. “Your suspicions about him were correct, Duke Gojo had an accident when he was heading back here. His carriage failed and he fell down a hillside, all I know is that the Duke is currently under the care of His Majesty the Crown Prince. But I don't know his condition."

When your father read Satoru's supposed letter your heart stopped, but at that same moment you felt like your heart was falling out of your chest. Your breathing accelerated and you began to feel your eyes stinging because of the tears that were accumulating.

“My lady.” Rose caught you when your legs gave out. “My lady, you need to breathe.”

We tried but it was like a foot was pressing on your chest and sinking you into the ground. You held Rose's hands and tried to speak. “We need to go…”

Rose looked at Nanami and they both nodded. “We will leave here as soon as possible, my lady.”

“The letter…” You whispered.

You had to take the letter with you and give it to the king or someone from the palace, you knew that this would mean the death of your parents but those two people were no longer your parents and you wanted to see them sink.

Rose grabbed your arm and the three of you left the room, heading towards the stable. You still felt your emotions on the surface, at any moment you felt like you would break but you shouldn't. You had to stay strong and leave that place and send that letter.

Taking the reins of your horse you raised your gaze and fixed it in front of you. Sighing heavily, you signaled to Nanami, telling him to leave.

Your body was so exhausted that you practically didn't remember much of the trip. You remember stopping to pick up Rose's husband, you remember Nanami telling you to ride with him, and you remember arriving at a lodge where you spent the night, but other than that, your memories were vague and confusing.

When you opened your eyes, you blinked repeatedly, taking in the light that filtered through that window. Rose was still asleep in the bed next to her. Sitting up carefully and quietly, you changed your clothes and left the room, meeting Nanami's figure guarding the door.

“Nanami.” You spoke with your voice still sleepy.

“My lady.” He greeted you with the same courtesy as always.

You chuckled and shook your head. “You don't need to continue behaving like this Nanami, I don't belong to that family anymore.” You smiled at him. “But my last proposal as your lady is that you accompany me to her majesty so I can deliver the letter to her.”

Nanami held your gaze and shook her head. “My lady, if I am still here serving you and accompanying you it is because I trust you completely and my loyalty is yours alone.”

“But…”

“I don't care if you never belong to the family again, I am faithful to you my lady.” He bowed. “And I will follow you.”

You looked at him stunned by the words he just said. “Nanami…”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that I will follow you and make sure you meet the duke once again.”

“Thank you…” You whispered, whipping away the tears that had gathered in your eyes. “How long do you think it will take us to get there?”

Nanami thought for a moment, thinking of the shortest and most feasible route for everyone. “Probably in two more days.” You nodded and smiled calmly.

“Good.” You said.

And so once you were all ready you left again, heading towards the capital. You were amazed with each new place you visited, with the people and the landscapes. It was the first time you traveled, since you had always been in your town and had never left there. You didn't know what would happen after delivering the letter and showing them the evidence that the king's brother was still plotting against the crown. If they would also condemn you or what would become of you. You did not know.

You also didn't know if you would be able to meet Satoru. Nanami had told you that he was in the capital, where the palace doctors were treating him but you didn't know if you would be able to see him, but you longed to see him, you longed to touch him again and feel his warmth.

When you crossed the wall that surrounded the capital you felt your heart begin to accelerate and when you began to enter the castle gate to have a reception with the king it accelerated even more. And standing there in front of the king and the prince, you felt like you could faint.

“So…” You began. “His majesty, I’m the only daughter of…” You said your family name and bowed. “I’m here to give you this letter that I found in my father’s office.” You held the letter in your hands. “I believe it’s extremely important for his majesty to know about this information and to take care of it.”

The king nodded and one of his guards took the letter from your hands and brought it to the king. He read it carefully and with a slight frown.

“You say you found this letter in your father's office?” You nodded. “You know what it means right?”

"Yes sir." You said with your eyes downcast.

“Why would you betray your family like that?” He wondered.

You clenched your fists and clenched your lips into a thin line. “Those people were not my family, my family is the ones who have accompanied and supported me on this journey and the man I am looking for.”

The king touched his chin and smiled and then looked at his son who nodded. “Thank you very much for this young lady, the crown will take care of it.”

The crown prince looked at you and smiled. "Follow me please." You looked at Rose and Nanami doubtfully and the prince, noticing it, turned to you. "Don't worry, you can trust me."

You nodded and followed his steps, tightly gripping the pendant you were wearing, trying to calm your nerves. Your eyes roamed every corner of the hallways you walked through, marveling at the details of the walls and ceilings, admiring the paintings of old monarchs that hung on the walls and the large windows that illuminated your entire path. It was like being inside one of your books, where the protagonist toured her spacious palace.

“It must have been a long trip, right?” The prince spoke again, exalting you a little.

“Uh… yeah a little.” You smiled.

“Well now you can rest here as much as you want, I'm welcome.” He smiled at you again and you smiled back. “Oh!” He stopped short in front of a large white door. "We have arrived." He said, taking the knob he opened the door.

His back blocked your view of what was in front of you so you couldn't see well what was inside.

“Look who came to see your injured ass.” The crown prince stepped aside and you finally saw what was in that room, who was in that room.

Your breathing stopped and your heart forgot how to beat when you saw him lying on that bed. His face had the occasional scar that seemed to be healing and his arm was completely bandaged. But it was there, he was there. Satoru was before you, he was alive.

“Angel…” He whispered with his blue eyes looking at you, unblinking.

And that nickname, that whisper was enough to break you down. Crying, you approached the bed and fell next to it.

“I thought…” You tried to speak but words were hard to pronounce.

“I’m so sorry my angel.” He held your hand. “Suguru give my future wife a chair or something!”

“Tsk.” You heard the crown prince. “You know I’m going to be the next king right?”

“And she is going to be my wife, so what?” Satoru replied.

“It’s okay, I…” You tried to speak.

“My lady, here you have a chair.” The crown prince smiled.

“Thank you, his majesty.” You bowed and sat down on the chair.

“I will leave the two of you alone.” The crown prince said and left the room.

“Angel…” Satoru called you.

“I though you died. I thought you left me, I…”

“I’m sorry.” He caressed your hair. “After going on that visit, I planned to take you with me to my house and finally get married. But well, the accident... it left me unconscious for several weeks and when I woke up your engagement to Mr. Harrison had become official and my condition was not the best." He sighed and squeezed your hand lightly. “I wanted to go there, get you out of that place and take you somewhere where I knew you would be happy but…” He touched his leg and smiled. “Suguru, the prince, did not allow me to do anything and I had to resign myself to knowing that the love of my life was not going to be able to be happy.”

You grabbed his hand in your hands and looked into his eyes. “But now I can be happy.” Satoru smiled.

“I didn't tell you at the time and when the accident happened my last thought was how sorry I was for not having told you but I love you my angel. I love you." He said and cupped your face in his hands and kissed you.

You closed your eyes, enjoying that kiss that you had longed for so much and you let yourself be enveloped by all the love and affection that Satoru was emanating at that moment.

You had believed that you would never taste those kisses again, that you would never again feel the soft touch of his skin against yours. But there you were, enjoying the love you both felt for each other.

You rested your head on his shoulder. “Satoru…” He hummed in your ear. “Your brother was right.” You looked at him. “I’m sorry my parents were behind your parents death and also behind your…”

“Hey angel.” He made you look at him. “None of that was your fault, you are not like your parents. And soon you will be a Gojo.”

His kiss made all the storms disappear from your heart, and calm was restored, allowing your heart to beat again with serenity and tranquility.

The tumultuous waves of doubt and fear that had threatened to engulf you subsided and were replaced by a deep sense of peace. Her touch, gentle, felt like a soothing balm for a wound you didn't know was so deep. It was as if, in that moment, all the chaos and uncertainty that had plagued you dissolved, leaving only the clear, steady rhythm of love.

Satoru broke the kiss and caressed your face. “Suguru told me that before you ran away from home, Mr. Harrison had called off the engagement or proposed. What happened?"

You smiled slightly. “I told them I was having your baby.” Satoru opened his eyes. “No I'm not.” You clarified. “But you should have seen their faces.”

"I would have loved it." Satoru smiled. “But next time it could be true.” He whispered.

You turned your face. “You must recover first.” You said.

“Angel, we can do a lot of things while we wait for me to recover.” He kissed your shoulder. “A lot of new things you still don’t know.”

You turned your face to look back at him. “Like what?” You had been tempted and Satoru knew it, which is why that smile that had captivated you from the beginning appeared on his face.

Fin

Notes: I can’t believe BDILH is over (the epilogue still needs to happen but still) 😭. The fact that this short series started as a Mikasa one shot, then turned into a dark romance with Sukuna but it ended up being a Gojo short fic bc I’m such a Gojo sucker… But thank you everyone for the likes, the comments and the love.

Also sorry bc this final didn’t have much angel x Satoru but the epilogue will be fully focus on them and just them and it will be 4-5k. But the main story needed a conclusion and didn’t want to extend the chapter too much. I’m quite satisfied with the result and I hope everyone enjoyed it ❤️

— comment if you want to be tagged in the final part

🏷️: @catobsessedlady @zoeyflower @satoracyxys @lavender-hvze @slashersgirlypop @tinydonkeysforlife @oddball08 @tttttttf @crybabytoru @fccxxxcvvx @augustine13028 @alwaysfreakingout

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

Another show just wrapped up, but a new one takes its place next week. Takara and Mitsuya have really become the bright spots for me in this current run of shows; they make excellent bookends for the week in jql. Of the five shows airing now, four are streaming weekly on Gaga and the other is available via fansub.

Takara's Treasure

What a fantastic episode of a show that continues to get better and better. The way this story has slowly built our understanding of these characters, and their understanding of each other, is masterful and so rewarding. I really loved the direct conversation they had about Takara's post-graduation plans and what it means for them, as well as Taishin getting to the heart of things and reassuring Takara that his desire is welcome. I'm excited to get a peek at Taishin's family next week and see how they navigate whatever challenges they bring.

Cosmetic Playlover

Farewell to this very pretty show whose story did not make much of an impression on me in the end. It never found a coherent relationship arc or gave us any foundation for this romance to hang onto, and it didn't live up to the dark and sexy tone of its original promotion. But it gave us a lot of beautiful visuals!

I Hear the Sunspot

We've now spent an entire month on repetitive side plots designed to separate and cause insecurity for Kohei and Taichi, and I am over it. I understand that the show is faithfully adapting the manga, but this is the thing about adaptations: when you switch to a new medium you have to adapt the work to fit the new format. When you read a manga you can speed through side plots designed to stretch out the story, but you can't do that in a weekly airing drama. And yes, I have seen the arguments that this is primarily a coming of age story about finding yourself, but it's not doing that well, either. This job falling out of the sky for Taichi and his boss—who we are meant to read as someone with good intentions—encouraging him to drop out of school immediately to work full-time is a strange development. That it once again set off a spiral of Kohei and Taichi feeling insecure about their friendship and misunderstanding each other only makes it worse. I understand the intention: we are supposed to be getting that Taichi is embarrassed about this job because it's tied to his still ill-defined feelings for Kohei. But they haven’t unpacked his hang ups with admitting (or understanding?) that he likes Kohei back enough for that to land. We've spent so much time sitting with Taichi's broody confusion without gaining any deeper insight into its source or seeing him grow, which makes all of this just feel like stalling instead of important character work.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

*sobs* Welp, the penultimate angst has definitely arrived. They distracted me with the possibility of dog death (Frito lives! THANK GOD) before sucker punching me with Mitsuya pre-emptively rejecting Ishida before their relationship could go further. And while I often roll my eyes at this kind of noble idiocy in the penultimate chapter of a romance, I think it's well-grounded in this story. Mitsuya has been worried about whether a relationship between them is right since he learned about Ishida's feelings, and on the heels of this blow about Frito's health and his sense that he burdened Ishida with this problem, he is feeling his age and his melancholy more than ever. He sees Ishida as a bright and beautiful young person that he would only drag down, and he does not yet understand that it was meeting him that brought this out in Ishida in the first place. The way he apologized and berated himself for asking Ishida to stay then hugged himself for that whole horrible conversation said it all. This also sets us up nicely for Ishida to finally make himself clear and do a classic jbl run next week (this show is ending too soon, I'm going to miss it so much). Thanks as always to @isaksbestpillow for providing her wonderful subs so we can all enjoy this beautiful drama. You can find the ep here.

Tagging @bengiyo to add this week's anime update.

[kckt88]

Scorched Hearts III

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

It's time for the petition to decide who will be the heir to Driftmark, and tensions rise as blood spills.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Secret Relationship, Death, Violence, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Oral Sex, Rough P in V,

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 5955

A.N - Going over old ground but it needs to be done.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

The tension in the throne room was palpable as Valaena stood alongside her family, her heart pounding in her chest.

On one side stood Rhaenyra, regal and composed, Daemon at her side, his expression unreadable but sharp, and her brothers, Jacaerys and Lucerys.

Rhaenys and Baela were standing just off centre their hands clasped together.

Across from them, Alicent Hightower stood with Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond.

Valaena’s gaze flickered over Aemond for a moment as he stood as still as stone, his arms folded behind his back, his single eye locked onto her, his expression unreadable.

At the centre of the room Vaemond Velaryon, bold and confident, waiting for his moment.

Overseeing it all from the Iron Throne was Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King.

The murmurs in the room began to die down as Otto rose from the Iron Throne, his voice cutting through the air.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark,” he announced “As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters. The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon-”

Vaemond stepped forward, bowing his head respectfully to Alicent before turning to Otto, his voice filled with conviction.

“My lord Hand. The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas."

As he spoke, Valaena’s hand instinctively tightened into a fist at her side. She could feel the weight of the stares from the court—whispers of legitimacy and bloodlines swirling in the air like an invisible storm.

Vaemond continued, his voice growing more passionate. “-I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’ closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.”

Before he could go further, Rhaenyra stepped forward, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. “As it does in my children, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir.”

Valaena felt a surge of pride as her mother spoke, but Vaemond's eyes flickered with barely concealed disdain.

“-No,” Rhaenyra continued, her tone sharp, “you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition.”

Otto raised a hand, cutting off the exchange. “You will have your chance to make your own petition, Princess. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

Rhaenyra stepped back, and Valaena instinctively reached out, placing a comforting hand on her mother's arm. As she did, her eyes drifted back to Aemond.

He stood still, watching her, his face still unreadable. For a brief moment, the world outside the two of them faded, but then Vaemond's voice pulled her back.

"My lord Hand, this is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation and the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor- the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

The silence in the room was heavy as Vaemond finished, the weight of his words settling over the court.

Otto nodded. “Thank you, Ser Vaemond. Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Jacaerys Velaryon.”

Rhaenyra stepped forward “If I am to grace this farce with some answer,” she began, her voice carrying through the throne room, “I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago, in this very—"

Suddenly, the great doors of the throne room burst open with a loud creak, and a voice echoed through the hall: "King Viserys of House Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

Every head in the room turned toward the doors as King Viserys entered, frail but determined, hobbling forward with the help of his cane. The murmurs in the room ceased entirely, replaced by silence.

The throne room was suffocating with tension as King Viserys hobbled toward the Iron Throne, every step he took a visible struggle.

Wheezing, gasping, and groaning, he gripped his cane with white knuckles, his body bowed under the weight of his years and illness.

As Otto Hightower descended the steps of the Iron Throne, his expression was strained, the Hand clearly uncomfortable with the king’s sudden decision to preside.

Viserys, however, would not be deterred.

“Move aside Otto. I will sit the throne today,” Viserys rasped, his voice unyielding.

Otto nodded curtly. "Your Grace," he said, stepping aside with a strained smile.

The entire court watched in silence as the king shuffled toward the steps of the throne. Viserys looked up at the imposing seat, his face twisted in pain yet filled with determination.

The climb was torturous, each step taking every ounce of strength he had left. His body trembled as he ascended, and a member of the Kings guard rushed forward to assist him.

But Viserys, with as much dignity as he could muster, shook his head.

“I will be fine,” he said, though his voice wavered with effort.

Just as he reached the final step, the golden crown slipped from his head, clattering loudly on the stone floor.

Viserys sighed in frustration, bending slightly to retrieve it, but before he could reach it, a gentle hand grasped his arms and picked up the crown for him.

“I said I’m fine—” he began, turning with a fierce expression, but his voice caught in his throat as he saw who had come to his aid.

It wasn’t one of his guards but Valaena.

“Come on, Grandsire,” she said softly, her violet eyes—the same shape and shade as her grandmother Aemma’s—filled with understanding. “Slow but steady.”

For a moment, Viserys simply gazed into her eyes, his heart stirred by the likeness to the wife he had loved and lost.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he allowed her to help him to the throne. With her support, he finally collapsed into the Iron Throne, breathing heavily but victorious in his effort.

Valaena with careful grace, placed the crown back on his head, smiling warmly.

She moved to step away, but Viserys stopped her with a wheezing breath. "My sweet girl, my only granddaughter-" His voice was hoarse but filled with affection. “-Thank you”

Valaena turned, her heart warmed by the tenderness from her grandfather. “You are welcome, Your Grace,” she said, bowing.

Struggling for breath, Viserys fumbled with a ring on his finger before pulling it off. His voice was frail as he extended the ring to her.

“I want you to have this-It once belonged to my Aemma. S-She would want you to have it-”

Valaena blinked in surprise, glancing down at the ring before accepting it with reverence. She slid it onto her finger, feeling the weight of the legacy that came with it.

She then leaned closer to her grandsire, whispering softly, “Mother needs your help-”

Viserys gave her a faint nod of understanding. Valaena stepped back, descending the stairs gracefully to rejoin her family.

All eyes followed her, whispers rippling through the room as she passed, but she paid them no mind.

Viserys wiped a trembling hand over his face, gathering his composure. “I must-admit-my confusion,” he began, his voice thick with exhaustion. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession.”

His eyes roamed the room before settling on Princess Rhaenys. “The only one present-who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’ wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

Rhaenys stepped forward, her voice resolute as she spoke. “Indeed, Your Grace. It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son, Jacaerys Velaryon.” Her eyes flicked to Vaemond as she continued. “-His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him.”

She took a breath before adding, “As a matter of fact, Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys’ granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

Viserys smiled faintly, nodding. “Well-the matter is settled. Again.” His voice, though weak, carried finality. “I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

But Vaemond’s face twisted with fury. “You break law-and centuries of tradition,” he spat, his voice seething with rage, “To install your daughter and granddaughter as heirs to the Iron Throne. Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon.”

He turned, his voice rising in anger. “No. I will not allow it.”

Viserys’ eye darkened as he sat forward. “Allow it?” he snapped. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

Vaemond turned, his face contorted in disgust as he pointed a trembling finger at Jacaerys. “That is no true Velaryon! And certainly no nephew of mine!”

Rhaenyra stepped protectively in front of her son. “Go to your chambers,” she said firmly to Jace, her voice cutting through the tension. “You have said enough.”

Viserys, his voice sharp with authority, declared, “Jacaerys is my true-born grandson. And you are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

But Vaemond could not contain his rage. “You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine! My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides! And gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this—”

“-Say it” Daemon interjected, his voice like ice, a deadly invitation hanging in the air.

Vaemond’s eyes locked onto Daemon’s, and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Her children-are bastards,” he spat with venom. Then, turning to Rhaenyra, he roared, “And she is a whore!”

The room gasped, horrified. Viserys, his face a mask of fury, began to rise from his throne, unsheathing his dagger.

“I will have your tongue for that!” he growled, his frail body shaking with rage.

But before Viserys could act, there was a sudden, swift movement—Daemon stepped forward in one fluid motion, and the room was filled with the sickening sound of steel slicing through flesh. Vaemond’s head tumbled to the ground, his body collapsing to the floor with a heavy thud.

The hall erupted in shocked gasps as blood pooled around the corpse. Daemon, calm as ever, smirked as he wiped the blood from Dark Sister on the hem of his clothes.

“He can keep his tongue,” he said casually, his voice dripping with amusement.

Otto’s voice cut through the stunned silence, “Disarm him!” he ordered.

Daemon merely shrugged. “No need.”

Valaena’s gaze was fixed on Vaemond’s headless body, her heart pounding in her chest, her hand hovering over her stomach.

She slowly looked over to Aemond, who stood across the room, smirking in approval, clearly impressed by Daemon’s display.

When their eyes met, Aemond’s smirk widened, his amusement and satisfaction clear.

Later that evening the air was thick with tension as Valaena took her seat next to Aemond at the long banquet table.

Jace and Luke, exchanged confused glances as they took their own seats across from her, but Valaena ignored them, her mind focused elsewhere.

Beneath the table, she felt a hand slip into hers. She glanced at Aemond, his expression as stoic as ever, but the firm grip of his hand spoke volumes.

Her heart quickened, and she gave his hand a subtle squeeze in return, feeling a quiet comfort in his presence.

Moments later, the heavy doors to the hall creaked open, and Viserys was carried in. The entire room stood in unison, waiting as he was gently placed at the head of the table.

Once seated, they all followed, retaking their places, Aemond’s hand once again finding hers beneath the table.

“Wine Princess?” asked a maid.

“No thank you-just water” replied Valaena. The maid bowed slightly before she left the table, returning moments later with a cup of water.

“How good it is, to see you all tonight” Viserys rasped, a pained yet heartfelt smile on his weathered face.

Alicent, seated beside him, folded her hands in prayer. “Prayer before we begin?” she suggested, her voice soft yet firm. She bowed her head, and the others followed, though Valaena kept her eyes open, watching the scene unfold.

“May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love,” Alicent began, her voice carrying over the silent room. “May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.”

Across the table, Valaena caught Daemon rolling his eyes at the mention of Vaemond. Her lips twitched into a smirk, and when Daemon noticed, and he shook his head in amusement.

Viserys, still smiling, then continued, “This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses.” He raised his cup with trembling hands. “A toast to the young Princes-and their betrothed.”

“Hear, hear,” Daemon said with a grin, raising his cup, and Valaena followed suit, her gaze flicking momentarily to Aemond, whose eye remained fixed on her.

But the air shifted when Aegon leaned over toward Jace, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he reached for a decanter of wine.

“Well done, Jace. You’ll finally get to lie with a woman. You do know how the act is done, I assume?” Aegon’s tone dripped with mocking amusement. “At least in principle? Where to put your cock and all that. If you want, I can provide you with a demonstration.”

Jace’s face flushed with anger, and he snarled back, “You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed.”

Aegon laughed, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ask Aemond,” he said with a wink. “Judging from the noises coming from his chambers last night, I taught him well.”

The jest hung in the air, and while Aemond scowled in irritation, but Jace’s gaze flicked curiously toward Valaena, who had lowered her head, her cheeks a faint shade of pink.

Jace’s eyes narrowed slightly, his mind clearly turning over the implications of Aegon’s words, but before he could speak, the sound of Viserys struggling to stand shifted everyone’s attention.

The King rose shakily from his chair, gripping the edge of the table for support. “It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table,” Viserys began, his voice raw with emotion. “The faces most dear to me in all the world, yet grown so distant from each other in the years past.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached behind his head and unclasped the golden mask that had been concealing his disfigurement.

The mask landed on the table with a dull clunk, and Valaena, still holding Aemond’s hand beneath the table, felt her breath catch in her throat.

Half of her grandfather’s face was rotted away, his eye gone, and his cheek nothing but decayed flesh.

She squeezed Aemond’s hand tighter, feeling his grip return just as firmly. His expression remained unchanged, but she knew he was glaring at his father, perhaps feeling the weight of unspoken resentment for the man who had failed to protect him in the past.

Viserys’ voice, though frail, was filled with the weight of decades of leadership. “My own face, is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was. But tonight, I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king, but your father. Your brother. Your husband and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems walk for much longer among you.”

Valaena felt Aemond tense beside her, and she could sense the silent storm brewing within him, his hatred for his father’s words barely contained.

Viserys continued, his voice growing softer. “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances, if not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

Valaena glanced at Aemond, his hand still tightly gripping hers beneath the table. His jaw was clenched, his eye glaring at Viserys with a mixture of frustration and unspoken sorrow.

She could feel the depth of his anger, the silent war that raged within him at being denied the recognition and love he had once so desperately craved from his father.

As the dinner progressed, the tension in the room ebbed and flowed with each passing toast.

Valaena noticed the look of shock and contempt on Otto’s face as Alicent, in a rare moment of sincerity, raised her cup and declared, "Rhaenyra will make a fine queen." The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy with implication, and Valaena could almost feel Otto’s displeasure burning from across the table.

Alicent, however, remained composed, but her father’s disapproval was unmistakable.

Next to her, Aemond sat in silence, his plate untouched.

Concerned, Valaena leaned in and whispered, “Are you ok? You’re not eating.”

“I’m fine,” Aemond replied, though his tone was curt, his jaw set.

He let go of her hand under the table and placed it on her thigh instead, the weight of his touch sending a ripple through her.

Valaena returned her attention to her own food, but felt her stomach roll at the smell of the lamprey pie, so she pushed away her plate and instead took a sip of water.

Further down the table, Aegon leaned in close to Baela, his voice low but dripping with arrogance. “I, um regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer,” he said, his words laced with mockery. “But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask.”

The air snapped with tension as Jace slammed his fists onto the table and stood abruptly, his eyes blazing with fury.

Aemond, ever his brother’s protector, rose immediately. But Jace, forced a smile and raised his cup.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond,” Jace said, his voice cool yet heavy with underlying menace. “We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles.”

Aegon huffed “To you as well,”

Viserys, oblivious to the mounting tension, nodded approvingly at Jace. “Well done, my boy,”

Helaena, ever the strange and soft-spoken one, suddenly stood, raising her glass awkwardly. “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena,” she said, her tone as detached as ever. “They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you-except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

Valaena’s eyes narrowed in a glare at Aegon, who rubbed a hand over his face, clearly embarrassed by his sister’s blunt honesty.

Helaena, however, smiled sweetly and sat back down as if she hadn’t just revealed the stark reality of her marriage.

Viserys, trying to lighten the mood, called for music. Soon, a sweet melody filled the hall, easing the tension just enough for the moment.

Jace, rose from his seat and approached Helaena, offering her his hand. She accepted with a shy smile, and the two began to dance.

Aemond, watching the scene unfold, stood and offered his hand to Valaena. She eyed him curiously, but when he gave her a small nod, she accepted, letting him lead her to an empty space in the hall.

As the music continued, the world around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them moving together.

Aemond twirled her gracefully, and when he lifted her off the floor, a soft laugh escaped her lips, filling the air with a rare moment of joy.

They danced, oblivious to the curious eyes watching them, as if they were the only two people in the room.

When the music ended, Valaena, slightly breathless, smiled and thanked Aemond before Jace, angrily stormed over grabbing hold of her arm and forcefully pulling her away from Aemond who took a step forward but stopped when Valaena shook her head.

“What was that?” snarled Jace.

Valaena gave him a casual shrug as she wrenched her arm out of his grasp “He asked me to dance. I couldn’t exactly refuse.”

Before the conversation could continue, Viserys grew visibly tired, and the guards moved to take him back to his chambers.

The moment he was carried out, Aegon stood abruptly and walked over to Valaena, his grin wide and insufferable.

“Seen as you danced with my brother, it’s only fair you take a turn with me,” he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Valaena hesitated, noticing Aemond who had resumed his seat was clenching his jaw. But she couldn’t exactly refuse without making a scene, so she took Aegon’s hand reluctantly.

As they danced, Aegon leaned in close, his voice low and taunting.

“If you think my brother has good moves, you should try mine,” he whispered.

Valaena’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Aegon smirked. “How long have you been fucking my brother?”

Valaena laughed, brushing him off. “Are you drunk?”

“Not drunk enough to lose my wits,” Aegon replied with a sly grin. “That was you I heard with him last night-”

“You know nothing,” Valaena said, twirling around him, trying to maintain her composure.

“I know more than you think-” Aegon shot back, his tone sharp. “I take it none of your family know about you and Aemond”

“Clearly the wine has addled your senses uncle,” Valaena muttered, her patience wearing thin.

Before Aegon could respond, a loud banging interrupted them. Aemond had risen from his seat, his cup in hand, his expression dark and unreadable.

“Final tribute,” Aemond declared, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “To the health of my nephews, Jace and Luke. Each of them handsome, wise-hmm-strong.”

“Aemond,” Alicent warned, but he ignored her, his gaze fixed on Jace.

“Come,” Aemond continued, his smirk widening. “Let us drain our cups to these two Strong boys.”

Jace, his face flushed with anger, snarled, “I dare you to say that again.”

“Why? ‘Twas only a compliment,” Aemond replied, his voice laced with mockery. “Do you not think yourself Strong?”

Jace lunged forward, punching Aemond in the jaw. Chaos then erupted as Luke tried to intervene, but Aegon grabbed him, slamming his head into the table.

“Jace!” Rhaenyra shouted, rising from the table as Alicent yelled, “That is enough!”

Valaena, seeing Aegon manhandling her brother, rushed over and grabbed a handful of his hair, wrenching him away from Luke.

Aegon retaliated by grabbing her and shoving her back, but Valaena, lurched forward and punched him in the side of the head.

Alicent seized Aemond, pulling him aside. “Why would you say such a thing before these people?” she demanded, her voice filled with frustration.

Aemond, his face impassive, simply smirked. “I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother. Though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.”

As Jace broke free from the Kings guard, ready to charge Aemond again, Daemon stepped in, his voice calm but commanding. “Wait, wait!” he said, halting everyone in their tracks.

Rhaenyra, her voice sharp, said, “Go to your quarters. All of you. Now.”

Valaena stepped away from Aegon, her chest heaving with anger as she glanced at Aemond one last time before she followed her siblings out of the room.

Valaena moved quietly around her chambers, packing her things into a worn leather satchel. Her hands trembled as she stuffed clothing and personal items inside.

As she picked up her hairpins from the vanity, she heard the familiar creak of shifting wood behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“My mother has said that we are to sail back to Dragonstone,” she said flatly, focusing on the task at hand.

A moment later, she felt the warmth of a hand settle on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, moving to the vanity again to gather her remaining things.

“You are upset with me,” Aemond said quietly.

Valaena’s jaw tightened as she stuffed the hairpins into her satchel. “I know you have no love or care for my brothers, but did you not consider the harm you would do to me with that toast of yours?”

Aemond stepped closer, frustration simmering in his voice. “It was your brother who angered me. He dared to laugh at my expense.”

Valaena turned sharply to face him, her eyes filled with hurt. “So, in your anger, you decide to ridicule me?” Her voice trembled with accusation.

Aemond’s expression softened, his hand reaching up to cup her face. “No. Not you. Never you.”

Valaena pulled away, removing his hands from her face as her heart ached. “I can take the whispers and the stares of others, but I cannot take it from you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond reached for her again, but this time, she stepped back, her eyes refusing to meet his. “Please don’t turn from me,” he said softly, his voice laced with desperation. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

Her fingers fiddled with the buckles of her satchel as she tried to steady her breath. “How can you scorn my brothers but claim to care for or even love me when I share the same blood as they do?”

Aemond’s expression darkened with old memories. “They used to tease me, as you well know. You suffered the same.” His voice carried a heavy bitterness.

“Yes, I did,” Valaena replied, her tone sharper than she intended.

“All I ever wanted was a dragon,” Aemond continued, his voice growing distant as he looked back on his childhood. “After you were taken to Dragonstone, and word came that you had claimed Silverwing, that gave me hope. I thought, like you, perhaps I wasn’t meant to have an egg, that maybe my dragon was already grown.”

Valaena paused, her hands stilling on the satchel as she remembered. “I was always meant for the sky,” she said softly, her eyes far away. “I could hear her calling for me. And when we flew together, our hearts were as one.”

“That’s all I ever wanted,” Aemond confessed, his voice thick with emotion. “When I claimed Vhagar, I sensed her loneliness. I know too well how it feels to be alone. She accepted me, and the joy of our first flight—” His voice faltered, the pain of the memory clear. “—was ripped away when your brothers and cousins attacked me.”

Valaena closed her eyes, guilt washing over her. “I tried to stop them.”

“I know,” Aemond whispered, stepping closer. “When I fell into the dirt, blood pouring down my face, I could hear you screaming. And then you came to me.” His voice softened as he remembered that night. “You tore pieces of your nightgown and pressed them to my face to stop the bleeding. You took my hand. Do you remember what you said?”

Valaena’s breath hitched as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Yes. I remember.”

Aemond’s voice was low and reverent, the weight of their shared memory hanging between them.

“Iksan lēda ao,” he whispered, his gaze fixed on her. (I’m with you)

Valaena’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes filled with more tears as she looked up at him.

“Are you with me Valaena?” asked Aemond.

“Va moriot,” she whispered back, her voice trembling. (Always)

In an instant, Aemond surged forward, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce, desperate kiss. Valaena melted into him, her hands clutching at his tunic as if holding on to him was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested against one another, their breath mingling as they stood in silence.

Aemond’s voice was raw with emotion as he whispered, “I’m sorry. I never meant to cause you harm. I love you.”

Tears spilled freely from Valaena’s eyes as she whispered back, “I love you too.”

For a moment, the world outside their small space seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them.

Aemond pulled back slightly, his fingers still resting on Valaena's cheek as he searched her tear-streaked face, his gaze filled with urgency. "How long do we have?" he asked softly, his voice laced with an edge of desperation. "Until you have to return to Dragonstone?"

Valaena swallowed hard, her heart heavy with the weight of their impending separation. “My mother could come for me at any moment,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if speaking the truth out loud would make it happen faster.

Aemond’s jaw clenched, as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, “We best be quick then.”

Before she could respond he spun Valaena around and pressed her face against the wall, with one hand on the back of her neck and the other quickly pushing down his breeches and smallclothes.

“I said we needed to be quick” rasped Aemond as he nudged her ankle with his foot, signalling for her to open her legs wider.

His body covered hers as he sucked and licked the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Valaena moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth digging into her skin.

Not having the time to properly prepare her, Aemond spat into his hand reaching down to run it up and down the hard length of himself, eyeing Valaena with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she bent forward for him.

He rucked up the dress she was wearing and pulled aside her smallclothes as he guided himself to her entrance, she barely had a moment to adjust before he is pressing his cock forcefully inside and stretching her brutally, causing her to cry out.

“TAKE IT!” spits Aemond.

Valaena can’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts that greet her, causing her to wail and moan, causing the tears form in her eyes, before running down her cheeks.

Aemond sets a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers, his fingers digging into her hips as he pushes and pulls her against him.

His cock reaching deep inside her, the sting of being stretched by him now giving way to a pleasurable ache.

Then he withdraws from her and spins her around, lifting her into his arms, his mouth pressed against hers as he quickly thrusts back inside her.

“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Valaena as she claws at his back.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.

“P-Please. Oh Please. Yes-yes” babbled Valaena ignoring the pain in her back as the force of Aemond’s thrusts kept slamming her into the wall.

“That’s it-” encouraged Aemond his gaze rooted to the place where they were joined, transfixed by the sight of her cunt stretched around his cock.

“Oooh-please-please” muttered Valaena.

But then, his thrust begin to slow, and he withdraws from her, making her whimper in frustration.

But Aemond ignores her as he lays her on the chaise and falls to his knees.

Sliding his hands up her legs, bunching the fabric of her smallclothes in his hand before he rips them from her body.

“P-Please-” whined Valaena as she felt his hard cock sliding against her folds.

“Hmm” growled Aemond as he sheathes himself inside her again.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Valaena as he began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond.

Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance.

“Tell me you want me-“ growled Aemond as he ran the head of his cock through her wet folds.

“I want you” exclaimed Valaena

“Tell me you need me” whispered Aemond as he sheathed himself back inside her.

“I need you-“ muttered Valaena as one of Aemond’s hands slid up her body and wrapped around her throat.

Aemond smiled and then began to fuck her in earnest, his fingers digging into the flesh of her throat, using her as leverage as he repeatedly plunged his cock into her cunny, over, thrilled to hear Valaena’s moans of need echoing around the chambers.

His thrusts, brutal and unrelenting.

“Come for me-” breathed Aemond.

Valaena screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me-good girl”.

“A-Aemond-”

“I-I’m going to-come” exclaimed Aemond, the tension in his abdomen was about to burst.

“Yes-yes-” whined Valaena.

 “FUUUCCCKKK” roared Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed inside her, collapsing against her, breathing hard.

Aemond lay atop Valaena on the chaise, his heart pounding as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath coming in heavy, heated bursts.

Then, suddenly—a sharp knock at the door.

They both jumped, Valaena gasping as Aemond immediately pulled his softened cock from her and scrambled to fasten his breeches. His fingers fumbled with the laces as Rhaenyra's voice sounded from the other side of the door, calm yet commanding.

"Time to go, Valaena,"

"Just a second!" Valaena's voice was a breathless rush as she hurriedly smoothed out her dishevelled dress, her heart racing.

She glanced at Aemond, who, despite his usual composure, looked equally startled, still fastening his clothes.

The door handle turned with a faint creak, and the door opened slightly. Valaena’s heart leapt into her throat as she saw the sliver of light spilling into the room, but then Daemon’s voice rang out through the gap.

“Is she ready yet? If we’re leaving, we need to go now,” Daemon said, his tone impatient.

“Almost,” Rhaenyra replied.

Valaena cast a desperate glance at Aemond, her voice barely a whisper. “Quick!”

Aemond’s eye darted to the slowly widening door, then back to her. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed a swift but tender kiss to her lips, his fingers lingering on her cheek for a fleeting moment before he slipped away.

With quiet precision, he moved to the secret passage hidden in the shadows of the room, disappearing just as the door began to open wider.

Valaena exhaled shakily, her hands smoothing her dress one last time as she grabbed her satchel. She turned just as her mother finally stepped inside, her smile warm but faintly tired.

"Ready?" her mother asked, her eyes softening when they met Valaena's.

Valaena nodded, offering a small smile in return. "Yes. I’m ready."

Rhaenyra glanced behind her at Daemon, who continued grumbling under his breath about the treachery in the Keep. “Come. Your brothers are waiting.”

With one final glance toward the secret passage, Valaena steeled herself, clutching her satchel a little tighter. She could still feel the lingering warmth of Aemond’s kiss on her lips as she followed her mother, her heart heavy with the knowledge that the time they shared had come to an end—at least for now.

TBC

[sylvanas-girlkisser]

Tinfoil out for Rell Medarda

So after my earlier post about the whole Rell/Mel/Ambessa thing, I got to thinking, and now I'm making it everyone's problem.

Spoilers ahead:

In the season 2 opening we get these shots (not all in sequence):

Ambessa sitting lazily on a couch holding a black rose

Mel looking uncomfortable surrounded by shadowy hands

Mel sitting on the same couch, lit so her shadow resembles Ambessa

So, Ambessa is in deep shit with the Black Rose right? They nearly killed her once, they've stripped her of most of her power and influence, and now they've kidnapped Mel. We know Ambessa would do anything to keep her family safe, and that doubtlessly include sacrificing her own life.

The most widespread Rell Medarda theory seems to be that she's Mel's younger sister, with the main counterpoint being that Rell's mom is described as "the heir to a fallen noble house" which doesn't make sense as a descriptor for Ambessa, yeah her house is falling but she's the head not the heir to the house.

And that's when it struck me: House Medarda is crumbling, but so is Mel's own empire. She's losing her sway over the council, her main ally wants to retire from politics, and a civil war is not good for business.

Which is to say nothing of the fact that it's more or less confirmed now that she's got magic, which last i checked is still very much banned in Piltover.

Also there's this promo image of Mel floating around which looks... Distinctly Noxian, at least compared to what she wears in S2A1

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Let's say that by the end of Arcane season 2, Ambessa is dead, house Medarda is in ruins, Mel's own fortune isn't doing much better, and suddenly everyone finds out she's a mage. Who knows maybe she even becomes the scapegoat for everything that happened between Piltover and Zaun.

She's exiled back to Noxus, and has to attempt to rebuild her empire from nothing. Somewhere in the process of doing so she has a daughter. A daughter with a whole lot of magical potential.

Next thing she knows, she's got the Black Rose banging down her door to get their hands on her daughter. Sure it might leave a bitter taste in her mouth to deal with them, but Mel knows business, and isn't there a degree of poetry to the people who ruined her, also being the ones to restore her to power.

"But hold on" you might say "Mel is a kind and loving person, her biggest goal in life is to be different from Ambessa, that sounds nothing like Rell's mom."

Did you know that when Britney Spears wanted her toddlers to calm down, she would give them pacifiers dipped in whiskey, because that's what her parents did to her growing up, and she genuinely didn't realize it was harmful.

Breaking the cycle isn't easy at the best of times, and if Mel is also having to fend off vultures at every turn trying to take what remains of the Medarda fortune, it's easy to imagine her falling into bad habbits.

And wouldn't that just be the most tragic ending for a character like her, who spent so much of her life trying to undo her mother's work, only to end up traumatizing her own daughter and sternly telling her "excellence is measured in sacrifice".

Hey does anyone remember how Rell was forced by her mother to kill her friends one by one in order to make her stronger? How about that scene in season one where Ambessa kills the Ionian princess Mel had made friends with?

[sanctuary1988]

Les Petals D'Amour | Gwi | Masterpost

Pairing: Gwi (the scholar who walks the night) x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

General Warnings: fluff, angst, blood, biting, general vampire stuff, secrets, obsession, twisted retail of beauty and the beast, death, character death, typical period misogyny, DARK ROMANCE, spiciness, love?, (specific warnings will be given in each chapter)

Total Word Count: in process

A/N: Welcome to my first fic on this new blog, darling! I finished watching TSWWTN like a month ago and I have officially fallen in love. I took one of the scenes to start this story that could serve as a prequel of the drama from Gwi's perspective. Like a backstory for him that we were denied on the show.

I really hope you will like it, loves. Please share your thoughts with me and feel free to ask me anything! From extra scenes for this story to what's the last thing I ate, I'd love to interact with you all!

*A/N: This story will be updated when I have the time to write, darlings. I'll do my best to keep it alive and ongoing but I have a lot on my plate right now. I'm doing this mostly for myself as I need some space to vent and create without pressure. This blog is a safe space for anyone and that obviously includes me. So please be patient when it comes to updates! I'm giving my all trying to balance my life with all the responsibilities I, myself, put over my already busy life. But be for sure that this story will be finished... someday.

**A/N: Darling, please mind the warnings on this post and on each chapter. I'm still pondering on whether I should include smut here or not as I personally think there should be a solid reason why there must be a spicy scene in a story but aside from that, this story will have some pretty dark contents and behaviours. Disturbing scenes may appear throughout the story and I am not responsible for your media consumption. Please, be careful, love.

~ Main Work

Chapter 1 | Handsome Stranger |2.3k words|

Chapter 2 | Owned Flower |2.4k words|

Chapter 3 | Caged Petal |2k words|

Chapter 4 | Silver Innocence |2.5k words|

Chapter 5 | Subtle Conscience |2.5k words|

Chapter 6 | A Flower For A Flower |4.2k words|

Chapter 7 | Reborn Petals Of Emotion |4k words|

Chapter 8 | Veil Of Temptation |4.5k words|

Chapter 9 | Fate's Cruel Hand |5.1 words|

Chapter 10 | The Heart Of The Poet |3.4 words|

────────────────────────────────────────────

𖹭 Interlude pt.1 |1.4k words|

────────────────────────────────────────────

Chapter 11 | The Moon That Embraces The Sun |4.6k words|

Chapter 12 | Melodic Promises |5.5k words|

Chapter 13 | The Silence Of Solitude |3.2k words|

Chapter 14 | Stolen Rose Of A Promise |4k words|

Chapter 15 | Flames Of Passion |4.5k words|

────────────────────────────────────────────

𖹭 Interlude pt. 2 |2.2k words|

────────────────────────────────────────────

Chapter 16 | Secret Of Darkness |3.4k words|

Chapter 17 | The Age Of Romance |3k words|

Chapter 18 | Echoes Of Eternity |4.2k words|

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

────────────────────────────────────────────

Interlude pt. 3

────────────────────────────────────────────

Chapter 21

???

~ Side Content...

Moodboard

The Playlist 🫶

Started: January/28/2024 Finished: ???

[spaceagebachelormann]

☆ — doctor who companions and their love languages

✧ masterlist — navigation

✧ characters — rose tyler, jack harkness, martha jones, donna noble, amy pond, rory williams, river song, clara oswald

✧ carmillas notes — doctor who hyperfixation RAHHH. no bill cause i haven’t gotten to that season yet and no sarah jane cause im saving her for a future part 2 of this !! ALSO these are my thoughts and i don’t CARE if you disagree

✧ warnings — might be ooc in some parts. also might be shitty cause i haven’t written in months. spoilers for the end of season seven.

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ rose tyler

-> rose likes to receive acts of service. she likes it when you do even the littlest things for her, like opening a door or pulling her chair out for her or calling her in the middle of the day simply because you missed her, that’s what really gets her heart going. she appreciates every little thing you do for her and never forgets any of it. in return, she likes to give physical touch and words of affirmation. she knows how much you love her and recognizes every little act of love. she’ll hold your hand while walking or randomly run her fingers through your hair, all while telling you how great she thinks you are and how she loves you.

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ jack harkness

-> jack is a whore, so he likes to give words of affirmation. while half of that is probably flirting, he can be really sweet when he feels like it and goes out of his way to make sure you know that. he likes to receive physical touch. he’s lived for much longer than he should’ve and has watched everyone he loved either die or leave him, so he likes to know your there by feeling your hands in his or somewhere on him. somewhere he can make sure you haven’t died or left him just yet.

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ martha jones

-> martha likes to give and receive quality time. because of her job, she often doesn’t have a lot of time for things outside of work and she feels bad about it. she can easily be reassured from her guilt by sitting down somewhere or going out, as long as she gets to spend time with you. while quality time is her number one, she also likes receiving words of affirmation. she spent a lot of time feeling second best with the doctor, and she likes to be told she’s wonderful and appreciated.

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ donna noble

-> donna doesn’t necessarily have a specific love language she likes to give or receive, shes kind of a mixed bag when it comes to that, she shows all of them equally. even though she doesn’t favour a specific love language to show, she likes to be on the receiving end of gift giving. even if its something small for nothing in particular, if you get her a gift she’ll get all giddy and becomes the most loveliest person afterwards.

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ amy pond

-> amy likes it when she’s given physical touch. from making out to just about anything, she loves it. she’s also partial to gift giving, and just like donna will get super excited if she’s given anything. she also doesn’t really have a specific love language, but she does go for physical touch a lot. she doesn’t just love to give it, she also loves to receive it.

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ rory williams

-> rory, like amy, also loves physical touch, but he shows it more gently than she does. while shes a bit more suggestive with her touches, rory’s are pretty innocent and are usually just holding your hand while walking or just a random hug in the middle of the day when he feels like he missed you. he also gives a lot of acts of service and is purely a gentleman. an awkward gentleman. he doesn’t really care or have a preference about what he gets in return, but he really does like quality time.

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ river song

-> river gets her biggest love language from her parents, physical touch. while her touches are just as gentle as rory’s, she often has her hands in a somewhat suggestive place, but never somewhere to make you uncomfortable. for example, she may have a hand on your thigh while sitting or on the small of your back while walking. she also doesn’t really mind what she gets in return like rory, but she does have her mothers love of gifts.

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ clara oswald

-> clara is very much a words of affirmation girl. she’ll grab onto your hand while walking somewhere and go on some mindless rant about how much she loves you and how amazing she thinks you are, and she could go on for hours. she also likes to receive words of affirmation, but a close second for her is physical touch and acts of service.

[the-ellia-west]

INTRO POST!!1!!!!!1!

Hello! I'm Ellia! Welcome to my weird-ass writeblr blog! Here's some things to know about me:

I am an Aspiring author and Devoted Christian Woman. I live in the USA (CDT time zone) I am a minor, and the only other language I know is some very spotty spanish.

I mainly write Fantasy, and I'm working on four main projects (Listed Below)!

I like: Jesus, Bright Colors, People, Writing, Reading, Cats, Music, Warm Weather, Rain, Flowers, Dresses, and my Moots!

I Dislike: The texture of wool, Heavy Lifting, Baked Beans, Sin, Satan, Demons, and the Time Travel Trope

Hey! Pst! Before you continue! I have a side blog! Check out @jakkon-and-rose-topic if you want to read some stuff!

Tags:

Ellia Writes - Any talking or sharing of any aspect of any of my WIPs

Ellia's Construction Company - How I make stuff, tutorials, ect.

Ghost Party - Chatting and geeking out with my friends/Moots

Ellia answers - Answering questions

Ellia's Rambling - Me talking about stuff (a little too much)

Ellia's Haunted house - Any posts that I could slot into my story and character/world building. And my pile of creations (Including shitposts)

Ellia's mind palace - Stuff I'm adding to my mental Library :]

Ghost gardens - Aesthetic Pictures and stuff

Ghost scribbles - Art/Drawing Practice

My Wips:

TCOT - (The Cursed One's Throne) - TCOT is a low fantasy Novel Series I have been working on for 5 years, and I hope to publish in the next year, and the Main Wip I will work on and talk about on this blog (Tags: #elliatcot, #ellia tcot, #ellia's tcot, #the cursed one's throne)

J&R - (Placeholder Title) - High fantasy Adventure with Sass, spunk, and a heck of a lot of conflict (To be turned into a comic one day)

StF - (Steel and Feathers) - StF is a High Fantasy project about a Chosen one And stuff (Tags: #stf, #elliastf, #ellia'sstf, #ellia stf, #ellia stf)

Fallen - (That's the title) - A High Fantasy Romance between a Runaway Noble and a Disgraced (probably Criminal) (Tags: #elliafallen, #ellia'sfallen, #ellia fallen, #ellia's fallen, #rustpearl)

StF Short story Masterpost!

Alkain - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Raavas - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 3.5

Old Pinned post Copy-paste below (followed by my moots)

------------------------------------ Hey there! Hi! You! Tumblr user!

Are you a fan of epic fantasy? Want a story with romance, action, and sassy heroes and villains? How about some good old-fashioned ANGST?

If so, you're in luck! Get ready for the upcoming release of The Cursed One's Throne (TCOT for short), coming... well, eventually!

A story of trauma, war, recovery, trust, and love intertwined with curses, magic, sacrifice, and a few too little hours of sleep. Who needs a release date when you've got me, the very entertaining author, right?

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

Wtf is TCOT?

TCOT sneak Peek

Worldbuilding

Music

TCOT Ships

Post this comes from

✨️Moots✨️💫

@agirlandherquill - HER WORDS ARE ART, GO FOLLOW NOW

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@bigwipscholar - Yes

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@corinneglass - Why is she so amazing and sweet?!??!? I do not deserve her 😔

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@cybercelestian - I don't talk to her as much as I'd like to, but I live her <333

@darkandstormydolls - AN AMAZING WRITER, Her research on medieval clothing and settings is really cool and useful too! <3

@fantastictrashpolice - I need to talk to her more often too because she is very sweet and wonderful <3

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If you made it all the way to the end, have a wonderful day, don't forget to drink water, have a little snack, sleep, take a walk, and Don't forget that I love you :] <3333

[limaliamandthebigbean]

Whenever I think of Steven Universe I think a theme it explored often, and explored well, was that sometimes the people close to you do things that really hurt you. Sometimes out of weakness, anger, ignorance, or even out of good intentions. And that sucks! And maybe the best exploration of the theme is the Steven Bomb, Week of Sardonyx. Anyone who happens to read this will know it, so no need for a recap (but there will be pretty screenshots. don't worry).

Now this whole "people you love hurt you" thing on the surface permeates basically all fiction. Otherwise there'd be no conflict, right? But what separates SU is that often their actions aren't justified or noble. Garnet is right, what Pearl does is terrible, it's at best a time waster! But that's what makes it such a good arc and exploration of the characters! Because in real life people are just like that. They DO do things that are horrible, even if they really love you. It's such a human and grounded concept executed very well using fantastical elements (like any good fiction).

The Week of Sardonyx stands tall above even other episodes/arcs of the show because the fact that it was a bomb (not like a financial bomb). They didn't have to wrap it up in a neat 11 minute bow, they could stretch it out and reeeeally make you feel the consequences. You really get some juicy insight into the cast; how they feel, how they interact with each other, etc. It was a big shake up for the time too, there had never been such a falling out (even temporary) between the core Crystal Gems. Hey, isn't it interesting how both "gems fuse with Garnet" episodes explore dark sides of Fusion?

Alright, I'm gonna throw some shade at the SU fandom real quick, so I may step on some toes. But when these, and many other episodes, were coming out there were people who reacted very vitriolically. Is Pearl the worst now? Is she evil?? Are these episodes terrible because they ruined Pearl? And the answer is no you idiot! People who are "the good guys" can do bad things! That's what makes them complex! That's what makes them interesting! But does it make them bad people? Definitely not. Come on guys. have a BIT of media literacy (like me, the smartest guy in the world of course).

Now while the Week of Sardonyx is, at least at that point in the series, the best execution of this theme, there are some episodes I should give credit to as well. Island Adventure is the very first, and it doesn't even feature the gems! Sadie trapping them on an island to try help Lars is just great, very emotionally muddy episode. Maximum Capacity is the first one where anger is a theme, with Amethyst intentionally trying to upset Greg. And again, not cool, not justified, and that's what's so good about it! And lastly one of my favorites, Rose's Scabbard, because of the simple scene of Pearl not helping Steven up. Not very safe, excellently showing how upset and entrenched in grief Pearl is in this scene.

Wow I like really REALLY rambled.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I have been noticing something about North and South Weekly, and that is the very low engagement/commentary on the Higgins/Bessy weeks. And I don't mean this post in a "silly shallow readers only engaging with the romance plot" way at all, because it is a very good dynamic and I love romance and I'm not ashamed of loving romance. It's more about my experience of revisiting the text, and the Higgins plotline growing on me more and more each time.

Part of it is learning about how much Gaskell loved the character of John Barton in Mary Barton -and how Nicholas and Bessy Higgins are a remix of those characters, but besides that...

Under Bessy's "victorianness" there's such a gut punching story of a young woman who has always only known toil and the relative seclusion of industrial town life, something that Gaskell brings across so well with the soundscape of the novel in the neverending industrial noise that tortures Bessy and the sense of oppression Margaret gets in Milton. And you can almost touch Bessy's feverishness and horror mixed with her delirious craving for Heaven and peace and quiet and rest. Margaret, besides her own, reflects our shock and discomfort with this picture.

And then there's Nicholas, who is written as intelligent and noble but also full of pathos. In my last reread, I found myself tearing up at his scenes more than any other. Granted, some of his best moments and lines come much later on than this point, but even so far, bits like this one in chapter XI:

Bessy leant back against her father, who prepared to carry her upstairs; but as Margaret rose to go, he struggled to say something; “I could wish there were a God, if it were only to ask Him to bless thee.”

that show his love for Bessy and his inner conflict, are so touching.

I guess what I'm trying to say is to extend an invitation to look more closely into these chapters, because there's good stuff in them too, and nothing in this novel is filler.

[vals-sims-world]

Hey guys! Thank you so much for all the love you've given to my Sims versions of Merlin and the knights!

Since there's interest in my Merlin save I will be sharing some stories about what's been happening in that world. However, before I do I feel I need to explain the way I play this save since it's not your standard Sims 3 fashion. I typically play rotationally, spending a week with each family before moving on and using nraas story progression mod to keep everyone from aging while I'm not there. My nraas setup also keeps sims from changing their relationship status or progressing in their careers when I'm not playing them but they can meet new sims, make friends, declare enemies, and start up a bit of a flirtation on their own. I like coming back to a household and seeing what dynamics have formed when I leave them to their own devices, though I get the final say on what romantic interests they end up pursuing.

Now that's just my standard setup for most of my games. For my Merlin save I decided to add some interest by using Merlin characters for my own version of The Medieval Charter Challenge! For those unfamiliar The Medieval Charter Challenge is basically a sims 2 build-a-kingdom challenge where you start with a small settlement and slowly build your world up until you have a medieval city. There are a lot of rules including a tax system and class structures that I'm not going to go over but if you're interested you can check out the original rules here For those of you who are familiar with the challenge just know that I've tweaked some of the rules to fit better with the sims 3 and I don't always follow them strictly. I treat them more like guidelines than actual rules, especially since I'm using pre-established characters, some of which have magic which opens up excuses for all sorts of shenanigans. So if you see me doing something that doesn't follow the rules don't worry about it.

Mainly what you need to know is that I started with an empty world, 3 households who are not part of my rotation but are there to help populate the town (druid camp, knights barracks, and the Ladies' manor), 5 peasant families (du Lac, Smith, Hopper, Emrys, and Ealdor), 2 Yeomen families (Macken and De Grance), and the royal Pendragon family. As my save is currently I have 9 community lots, 3 peasant families (Hopper, Ealdor, Oliver), 1 yeoman family (Emrys), 1 Merchant family (du Lac), 1 Gentry family (Macken), 1 Noble family (De Grance), and the royal Pendragon family that have all dramatically changed as they intermarried, had kids, built up their businesses, and rose in the ranks.

My plan is to make a post on each of these families explaining their story. This will take time though as I plan to give you guys family portraits, before and after tours of their homes, any screenshots I happened to have taken while playing, as well as writing out the twists and turns of their tales. So please bear with me while I sort that out.

In the meantime here's some screenshots of some shippy poses I did with my sims that aren't part of the save

Tagging those who expressed interest in knowing more about my save (let me know if you want me to tag you in future posts about this): @tansyuduri @building-camelot @chairwiththreelegs

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 6: The Secrets of The Red Keep (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 6: The Secrets of The Red Keep 

In the Red Keep, it’s not just the rats that creep, but secrets too. And in the game of thrones, secrets kill as much as rats carrying plague do.

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist | 

Warnings: Lots of stuff happening, Viserys being an L as always, Y/N being kind of an ass, slow burnnnnnnnnnn

Word Count: 7.7k words (so. much. is. happening.) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: Here it is, you guys! I’m so sorry it came later than expected 😭 and that it is much longer than expected too. But I snuck in a Daemon cameo at the end so 😁 I hope you guys enjoy! 

lovely dividers courtesy of @firefly-graphics​ !

It was drawing nigh six months since Prince Daemon’s disinheritance and subsequent departure to Dragonstone. All across the realm, winter had reached its end, and flecks of green have begun dotting the bare trees once more. The smallfolk’s chatter and laughter grew gradually in abundance, as with spring always comes the promise of new beginnings. 

The nobles too, harboured the hope for new beginnings. Gowns and coats of fur were swapped out for attire of lighter fabrics, and the misery caused by the chill of winter were replaced with eager ambition to propel themselves into the centre of power. And no one seemed to exemplify that more than the Lady Y/N Tyrell. 

Gone was the devoted, yet somewhat prickly and brash lady-in-waiting of the late Queen. In its place, was someone much changed. Where in the past she had served Queen Aemma, these days, she was akin to a second shadow to the Princess Rhaenyra, heir to the Iron Throne, even moreso than her usual companion, the Lady Alicent. The kinder whispers expressed gladness that the Lady Y/N had taken pity on the Princess, who had lost her mother at such a young age, and had stepped up as a maternal figure in an act of benevolence. The more vicious gossips, however, sniggered that mayhaps Lady Y/N had been possessed by the spirit of a particularly determined leech. “The rose sinks its thorns into another dragon after one passes,” they mocked. 

All these whispers you heard, but you simply did not possess the means to care. ‘Words are wind,’ you scoffed to yourself. Although…Tis’ true you were leveraging on your close connections with the Princess…but it was for self preservation. With Aemma and Daemon gone, you had gotten close to Rhaenyra, becoming something akin of a mother figure to her, which made your influence at court grow exponentially. Having the favour of the heir to the throne was a powerful thing, and you intended to use it to serve your own means. However, you couldn’t shake off your feeling of guilt for using Rhaenyra this way. You oft wondered if Aemma would approve of you doing so if she was still alive. But if she were…then there would have been no need for you to do this. You swallowed down the painful lump in your throat. It doesn’t matter now, you told yourself sternly. The dead are the dead, as Daemon said, and as long as you were alive, you would do whatever it takes to make sure you stayed at the Red Keep. 

You arrived at the castle sept, where Rhaenyra was standing to the side while Alicent was kneeling in the midst of prayer. You curtsied to Rhaenyra, whose face lit up as soon as she saw you, though it did little to lighten the visible gloom on her face. 

“Your Grace,” you greeted softly. “I told you so many times that you should call me by my name, Y/N,” Rhaenyra chided softly. You smiled apologetically, “Apologies, it is a force of habit.” Rhaenyra smiled wistfully, “You always called me by my name when Mother was…” her voice trailed off and her head drooped. You tilted your head in Alicent’s direction, “You’re not praying?” Rhaenyra hesitated, “I must confess that I’ve never really prayed before..” 

You smiled, guiding her to where Alicent was kneeling. “Well, no time to begin like the present, then.” You took notice of the figure she was praying to: The Mother. How fitting. 

Kneeling down next to Alicent, you felt Rhaenyra tentatively do so next to you. Alicent offered the both of you candles, and you showed Rhaenyra how to light them. The three of you knelt there in silence for a while, minds occupied with your own vastly different thoughts. “I find…” Alicent spoke gingerly, “That this is a way to be with my mother. Here in the quiet of the sept.” She hesitates, looking back at the statue of the Mother. “Does it sound foolish?” 

“I don’t think it sounds foolish,” Rhaenyra piped up next to you. 

Alicent smiled at that, before turning to you, observing how your eyes were watching the figure of the Mother pensively. “Do you pray often, Y/N?” You smiled wistfully, “Piety was never one of my stronger suits, I’m afraid. But I remember…when I lost my lady mother, I prayed day and night that I wouldn’t be sent back to Highgarden.” 

“You disliked your home?” Rhaenyra asked softly. You pondered over her question, before shaking your head slightly. “To me, Highgarden never really felt like home. Perhaps it was because I had been born and raised in the Red Keep for most of my days, but I consider King’s Landing to be my only home.” You didn’t tell her that it was the looming threat of your duties as the sole daughter of House Tyrell that kept you from recognising Highgarden as your home. Rhaenyra nodded sagely. 

“I’m…I’m afraid I’m not quite sure what to pray to the Mother for,” Rhaenyra hesitantly says, “Should I pray for anything specific?” You smiled wistfully, “You only need to follow your heart. The Gods will listen to you if your sincerity can be felt.” Alicent nodded in agreement, and the three of you lapsed into silence once more, praying on your own. You closed your eyes, and Aemma flashed into your memories. She was always smiling at you then, and your heart ached deeply whenever you remembered her. 

“...the day of the tourney,” Alicent and Rhaenyra turned to you inquisitively, as you took a deep breath, letting the scent of the smoke sooth you, “I told you I was never religious, but that day…I prayed to the Mother fervently. For your mother, for Aemma to have a smooth labour.” You smiled bitterly, “But it seemed, the gods had a different plan for your mother.” 

Rhaenyra sniffled softly. “It feels refreshing to hear you talk about my mother,” she admits after a pause. “No one, not even Father, seems to want to talk about her. They always change the subject. It’s like her memory is something unpleasant. Something to be avoided..” 

You took her hand, feeling as though you might cry yourself. “The subject is painful,” she continues, “But I don’t want to forget. I don’t want anyone to forget. I cannot bear for my mother to only be spoken about in riddles and hushed tones. I want to remember her…I just don’t understand why Father doesn’t seem to want to.” 

Alicent glanced at the both of you, biting her lip softly. “When my mother died…my father and brother wanted to forget about her too. And admittedly, I did too.” You put your other hand on Alicent’s, and she smiled ruefully at you. “I hid my grief, trying to continue with my life with the same bravery my father and brother had…but I found myself unable to. So the sept is my refuge. It’s where I can express my grief without feeling like it’s something to be ashamed of.” 

“Grieving is nothing to be ashamed of,” you told her gently, “Grief is what keeps the memory of a person alive, even if they’ve long passed. To remember what kind of person they were to you, and to honour how they made you who you were now. Grief does a service to our loved ones who have passed.” 

Rhaenyra smiled bitterly, “I think Father needs to hear that.” You smiled at that, patting her hand softly, “Everyone grieves in their way, Rhaenyra. You might not see it, but I’m sure your father mourns your mother too, though it may be in a way different to yours.” 

Rhaenyra pondered on that, turning her gaze back to the candles. “...mayhaps you’re right.” You squeezed her hand, and she squeezed it back. You turned to look at Alicent, and she grasped your hand tightly in hers, her expression warm. Though getting close to both of them was naught but a political machination initially…you found yourself growing to care more and more for these two girls everyday. So different we all are, you thought to yourself, yet so similar we are too. You turned back to the Mother, as you said one last prayer to her, “I hope…that the three of us can always be like this. That no matter what, when the world seems bleak…we can all be truthful with one another, and depend on each other.” 

It has been six months, but you find that you are still unable to school your features into absolute indifference as you watch Viserys digging into his meal with a notable lack of enthusiasm. 

Pursing your lips, you focused your attention back onto cutting into the veal on your plate. Ever since Aemma’s death, you had been hesitant in seeking out Viserys’ company voluntarily, despite Daemon having advised you to take the opportunity to get close to Viserys for protection. Out of all of Daemon’s advice you had reluctantly heeded, this one unsettled you the most. But as it turned out, you had not needed to make the first move. Viserys had (quite unfortunately) taken to summoning you to his apartments more oft than not in the past six months for meals, or even just for idle conversation. And the usual topic of conversation? The late wife that Viserys had cut open. You would find it funny if the topic itself did not constantly make you want to hurl something at Viserys. Viserys seemed determined to cling onto the vestiges of Aemma’s memory through you, Aemma’s cherished companion. Although after today’s conversation at the sept, you found it strange that Viserys seemed reluctant to broach the topic of Aemma with Rhaenyra, but with you, it was different. Why exactly was it so, you did not know, but…as long as it kept you at the Red Keep, then you would stomach as many conversations as Viserys wanted to have about Aemma. 

Which was why you nearly dropped your fork when Viserys asked you if you knew about Daemon’s current occupation of Dragonstone. Clearing your throat, you deliberated on the reason for the sudden change of topic, but quickly answered, “It would be a miracle if someone had not heard about that.” Viserys chuckles, a rare deviation from his usual melancholic mood during your dinners. “As always, you are unfettered in your nature of speaking. I only wished more people would be like you.” 

You were unsure on how to respond to that. Viserys sighed, “It would not be such a bother if it had been only Daemon on the island, but he had to take nearly half the City Watch with him as well. Does he truly desire to wage war against me, his own brother? With that meagre army of his?” You recalled Daemon’s words that fateful night, and bit your lip. So this was what he meant. You knew that with Daemon’s abscondence along the City Watch, King’s Landing had became more susceptible to looting, raping and other violent crimes. The Small Council was oft engaged in heavy debate as of late on how to tackle this problem, and that must have been Daemon’s plan all along. To sow chaos in King’s Landing. You sighed, cutting into your veal. Daemon…he may not look it, but there is always a certain calculative edge to his seemingly impulsive actions. The promise to make a point. 

“I’ve half a mind to go to Dragonstone and confront him myself,” you snapped back to reality when you heard Viserys bang down his cutlery frustratedly. “If the Small Council had not dissuaded me otherwise, I would’ve done so.” You grimace, “Viserys, that would be unwise. You and I both know more than anyone of Daemon’s nature. He means to continue throwing this…tantrum so that he may garner your attention. You shouldn’t pay heed to his antics. Mayhaps he will come to his senses sooner or late.” 

“Mayhaps is a strange word for never,” Viserys muttered, picking up his fork and knife again. You stifled a laugh by lifting another spoonful of soup to your lips. “Regardless, it would not be fitting for you to go to Dragonstone. What would the realm say, seeing their king having to go and plead with his brother to curb his foolishness? The dissenters will see it as weakness, as they did with Aenys and Maegor. You should listen to your advisors’ counsel, Viserys.” Viserys sighed, leaning back against his seat. “I suppose you’re right. However; this leaves me at a bind on what to do with him. Lord Corlys has been singing this wretched tune for nigh six months, and he will continue to do so if I do not act soon to put Daemon in his place.”

The two of you lapsed into silence. You picked at the remaining veal on your plate anxiously. “And other than the mounting pressure to deal with Daemon, the Small Council, in particular Lord Corlys, has also been pushing me on the subject of remarriage.” You froze. “...remarriage?” Your heart was pounding furiously, having not expected this sudden turn of events. You knew it would be expected of Viserys to do so, to secure the line of succession, but he always seemed so catatonic in grief over Aemma that you thought he would never take a second wife. Moreover, should his new wife sire him sons, Rhaenyra’s claim would surely be disputed by the lords of the realm. Viserys nodded wearily, “Lord Corlys has even nominated a candidate, his own daughter, Lady Laena.” 

You wrinkled your nose, “Isn’t she naught but a girl of 12?” Viserys sighed, “Indeed. Much too young…though it seems not for Lord Corlys’ ambition.” You felt your appetite slip away at that. “And what do you think of this match?” Viserys smiles ruefully, “I was actually looking to hear your opinions. You always speak with unbridled truth, and it would do me good to hear from an unbiased perspective.” 

You purse your lips, surprised. He was asking for your opinion an awful lot these days. “If you’re seeking counsel on the qualities of Lady Laena, I must confess I do not have a clearly formed opinion. But speaking from a political perspective…it would be an advantageous match for both houses. It would join both of your houses of Valyrian blood in one once more.” Viserys lets out a soft snort, “Advantageous? Lord Corlys and my cousin only proposed this match to put their own blood on the throne. They care not for the unity of our houses. Lord Corlys only wishes to see a king of Velaryon blood on the Iron Throne, and to correct the slight that Rhaenys faced at the Great Council.” 

“Be that as it may,” you interjected, “You cannot deny it is a brilliant match. Is it not better to join the blood of the dragon in one single line again? This will prevent any more dragonriders from emerging from House Velaryon, and consolidate the power of House Targaryen in a single bloodline once more.” You were startled when Viserys suddenly let out a bark of laughter, “You know, you sound exactly like Daemon. With how the both of you are constantly stressing about the importance of retaining the power of House Targaryen.” You froze, feeling offended, but then the indignation fades away. It wasn’t entirely a bad thing, after all, Daemon was the person who had opened your eyes to the naivety that blinded you from seeing reason in your grief. Instead of feeling insulted, you felt like you should feel…proud? You shuddered, the thought of being proud thanks to sharing qualities with Daemon fucking Targaryen of all people being too much to bear. 

Viserys lets out a slow exhale, looking regretful. “All this talk of remarriage sickens me,” Viserys mutters. “Because despite all this quibbling, nothing will ever come close to Aemma. I do not wish to replace her. I imagine she will be deeply upset at the thought of it.” 

You frowned, holding back the urge to shout at Viserys why he had chosen to cut Aemma open if that were the case. But alas, the truth oft can never be expressed freely. You took several deep breaths, formulating a response in your head, as you spoke gently, “Remarriage may seem daunting, Viserys, but it is inevitable. It is your duty to the realm, and I’m sure Aemma will understand that.” Viserys sighs before laughing softly, “I suppose you’re right, Y/N. Duty is inescapable, especially when you’re a king. Very well, I shall arrange to see Lady Laena to discuss a possible betrothal as soon as possible.” 

You did not know what to feel about that, happy? Aggrieved? Angry? “That reminds me,” Viserys spoke up, getting out of his seat and walking to you. You watched him curiously as he fumbled in his pockets to draw something out. “I…think that you should have this.” Your eyes widened when you saw that he was holding the ruby falcon necklace that Rhaenyra had gotten Aemma. “The Silent Sisters retrieved this from Aemma. I’ve held onto it for the past six months but,” Viserys smiled bitterly, “I felt like it would only be right for you to have this. Aemma was as dear to you as much as she was to me, and with my remarriage…I do not think it is right for me to hold on to it anymore.” You took the necklace gingerly and cradled it in your hands, feeling torn. Viserys put a hand on your shoulder gently, “Let this serve as not just a token of remembrance for Aemma…but also as one of gratitude. From me towards you for your counsel, steadfast loyalty, and friendship. I want you to know that despite how bereft I am over Aemma’s passing, I am thankful that you have continued to stay by my side.” Conflict consumed you as you looked up at your old friend. You thought you hated him for doing what he did to Aemma, but it seems your old friendship prevents you from detesting him completely. It was so difficult to completely hate someone who you've known your entire life, and has only looked out for you, despite his position of power. 

You rested your hand atop his and smiled tentatively, “Thank you, Viserys. This gesture means a lot to me…and I want you to know that I am grateful for you too. I will always be by your side, no matter what” Viserys flashed you a genuine smile for what seemed like the first time in months, “Thank you, Y/N. Truly.” 

Two weeks later, you were striding towards Viserys’ solar, a book in your hands, a smile on your face. Viserys and you had been discussing about the structure of a temple of a Valyrian deity for the past few days, and you were delighted when you found a book that contained descriptions of how temples of that particular deity were constructed in the empire of Yi Ti and the Old Empire of Ghis, immediately setting off to Viserys’ chambers to share it with him. You also remembered that today was the day that Viserys was due to walk with the Lady Laena to discuss the marriage pact between their houses. You had no doubt he would be feeling discouraged after that, and you hoped the book would lift his spirits.  

You nodded at Ser Steffon Darklyn, who was standing guard outside the King’s solar, and bustled into the room like you did many times before. What you did not notice however, was the man’s panicked look as he remembered the King was busy with another visitor when you entered. 

You swept into Viserys’ solar, a grin on your face, “Viserys, I found something of interest-'' But you nearly dropped the tome as you came to a dead halt, staring at the dismayed figures of both King Viserys and Lady Alicent - who were far too close together for your liking - in shock. A dead silence blanketed the room, before Viserys began appealing to you, “Y/N, this is not what it looks like-” 

Suddenly, Ser Steffon’s voice came from the door, “Your Grace, the Hand is requesting for an audience.” Viserys sighed, looking between the door and your accusatory expression. “Let him in, Ser Steffon.” 

The Hand entered the room, bowing to the King. He didn’t seem surprised to see Alicent here, you realised with growing indignation. Otto Hightower, that cunt, looked a little taken aback at your presence, however it was quickly smoothed over by his grim expression. 

“Your Grace, I’ve called the Small Council to an emergency session. An incident has-” 

“Can the matter wait?” Viserys demanded, walking over to you, but you backed away, unable to look him in the eye as you tightened your grip on the ancient tome. “I’m afraid not, Your Grace. There has been a problem,” Otto paused, eyeing you and Alicent, clearly unsure whether he should say it in front of the both of you. “At Dragonstone.” 

Daemon, your heart thudded in your chest. What did he do now? 

“Gods be good,” Viserys muttered. “I understand. I will be there shortly. I have a pressing matter at hand.” With that, Viserys turned to you, his expression becoming sombre as he murmured, “I think I owe you an explanation.” 

“You don’t,” you whisper, a betrayed look on your face. “You owe one to Lady Laena. To Rhaenyra. To Aemma.” 

Viserys sighed, suddenly looking like he aged five years in an instant. You were aware of the Hand’s heavy gaze upon you and Viserys, as well as Alicent’s anxious one. “I swear to the Seven that it is not what it looks like, Y/N.” 

“Then pray tell, whatever good reason can there be for this…gathering?” you whispered harshly. “This does not seem like a one-off incident, am I right?” 

“It is true this was not…a first occurrence,” Viserys looked nervously at Alicent, who was picking at her fingernails again. He placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch. A sadness dawned in his eyes at your reaction, “I…I will explain it all to you later. But I need you to swear to me that you will not tell Rhaenyra. I’m afraid she will misunderstand-” 

“Your Grace,” Otto speaks up, causing the both of you to turn your gazes to him. You felt queasy when you saw the intrigued look in his eyes. “I’m afraid your conversation will have to wait. This matter is truly urgent.” Viserys sighed, looking at you pleadingly, “Please, Y/N. I promise, I will tell you everything later. Just…help me keep this secret, just once, alright?” You couldn’t do anything but press your lips into a thin line. Seeing there was no use begging you anymore, Viserys only lowered his head shamefully, patting your shoulder before leaving the room. Otto gave you and Alicent one last look, one that you returned with a glare, before he inclined his head and turned to follow the King. 

As the door closed, you and Alicent stood there, an uncomfortable silence blanketing the room. You were the first to break it, “How long has this been going on?” 

Alicent cast her eyes downward, “Nigh six months, my lady.” Her voice was quiet, timid. You crossed over the room to her, arms crossed in disapproval. “Your father ordered you to do so, didn’t he?” “...yes,” Alicent whispered tearfully. Your heart twists. As angry as you were, it was not directed to Alicent, but to Viserys, and the Hand. For once, you finally understood Daemon’s intense dislike of the Hand, and how appropriate it had been when he called him a leech. ‘Yet again, Daemon is proven correct,’ the bittersweet thought caused your lips to quirk upward. ‘Who knew he was such a patron of wisdom.’ You were silent as you let your thoughts deliberate the information you just learnt, before you spoke up once more. 

“Speak truthfully with me,,” your voice was firm, demanding, “Does the King intend to take you as a bride, instead of Lady Laena?” Alicent was silent for a moment, before she spoke in a trembling whisper, “It would appear so.”  

You massaged your temples. Gods be good. “And is that what you desire?” Alicent hesitates, looking torn. “It would be a great honour,” she murmurs, although her voice was lacking in conviction. “It would mean I would be Queen. There is no greater way to bring honour to House Hightower.” You waved your hand in the air dismissively, “Aside from honour, I’m asking you if this is what you want. And do not tell me that it is, just because your father or your House wills it. What I want to hear is if you, Alicent Hightower, want this marriage.” You lowered your voice, demand turning into solemnity, “The path of marriage…it is no easy one, Alicent. And you are still young, there is much of life you have not yet experienced.” You took a deep breath, voice shaking slightly, “You saw…what happened to the late Queen. The pressure to produce an heir…and eventually, she gave her life for it. Is this the sort of life you want to resign yourself to?” 

Alicent bit her lip, a tear trickling down her face. “I do not have a choice, do I?” You were aghast, “Of course, you have a choice. Everybody can dictate their life the way they choose. You need not resign yourself to the will of others. That is no way to live, Alicent.” 

Alicent gives you a bitter smile, still not meeting your eyes. “It is fortunate that you have the liberty to think so, my lady. But it is a concept I am unfamiliar with, and one that I can never grow to fully experience.” You wanted to protest, but you kept silence as you watched Alicent blink back tears, “I’ve learnt from a young age…the inevitability of duty. Run as you may, in the end, this freedom you speak of…it can never be ours. Everyone has a role to play in life, and the women are expected to play it exceptionally well. Noblewomen especially. We were born in this life to serve our fathers, our lords, our husbands, our houses. The thought of freedom is wonderful yes, but you soon realise, it slips through your fingers slowly, until all that is left is duty. Since duty is inescapable, no matter how reluctant I may be, I have learnt that accepting it earlier will cause me less hurt, instead of thinking foolish thoughts.” She finally meets your gaze, eyes filled with solemn determination. “Thank you for your concern, my lady. But this is a choice I have made. You would not change my mind, and I suspect I will not change yours. However, I hope you will respect my opinions on the matter.” 

You face was impassive, but your eyes were filled with sorrow. How wise she was for a girl so young. And how crushing the weight of knowledge can be. You continued to say nothing, instead gently prying apart Alicent’s clenched fingers, examining the wounds on her fingernails. “Come, let me help you put some ointment on them. I got some from the Maesters after the tourney.” 

Your mind was in a haze as you departed the King’s solar. Alicent’s words struck a deep chord in you. You always assumed that everyone would want the choice to pursue the life their heart desires, regardless of their sex, but you never stopped to consider the people who didn’t have the chance to. You had flouted the idea of duty for years, despising it, but seeing Alicent, who willingly embraced the burden of it…it made you feel ashamed. 

Consumed with your thoughts, you didn’t notice a hurried figure approaching until you both collided, nearly knocking each other to the ground. The other person grabbed you to steady you before you fell. Your eyes widened with shock at the guilty figure in front of you. “Rhaenyra?” The princess shushed you, pulling you to a dark corner. “What are you doing?” you whisper furiously, upon noticing her dressed in her dragonriding gear. “Are you sneaking out? At this hour?” 

Rhaenyra was bouncing on her heels impatiently, looking like she might take flight herself at any moment. “To Dragonstone. Daemon has stolen my brother’s egg, he intends to gift it to his mistress’ bastard child.” You were startled, and outraged at that. He would go to such great lengths just to get his brother’s attention? Sometimes you wonder if being a cunt was just in Daemon’s nature. “Please help me keep it a secret, Y/N,” Rhaenyra implored. If it weren’t for you gripping onto Rhaenyra’s forearms, you suspect she would have fled a long time ago. “Father shot me down when I suggested I fly there to retrieve the egg, and sent the Hand instead, but I have to go get it. It was my brother’s egg, I picked it out personally, Daemon has no right-” she struggled to find the words amidst her anger. 

“I understand, go. I won’t tell a soul.” Rhaenyra looked at you with wide eyes. “Are you…serious?” You nodded, letting go of her. “I think you will be able to get through to Daemon. I believe in you. Now go, before your uncle decides to take the Hand’s head off with a sword and cause a war between House Hightower and House Targaryen.” Rhaenyra laughs, before unexpectedly pulling you into a hug. “Y/N…thank you. It feels nice to know that you have faith in me” You were startled, but you hugged her back, and patted her hair soothingly, a gesture you’ve seen Aemma do with Rhaenyra. “You’re more capable than you think, Rhaenyra. Now go,” you pulled away, eyes fixed with hers. “And make Aemma proud, Rhaenyra.” Rhaenyra nodded, a fierce look coming into her eyes. She shot you a brief smile before looking around furtively to make sure that no prying eyes were here to witness her escape, before sprinting away to the stables. You watched her go, biting your lip. Your conversation with Viserys and Alicent crossed your mind, and you felt a little regretful that you didn’t manage to tell Rhaenyra. But Viserys had begged you, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to say anything. You turned away, walking to the godswood, intent for some air. You had a feeling in your gut that sooner or late, all these secrets would culminate in an unpleasant ending.

Your words were proven true enough a few days later. You were reading a book in your chambers, when Rhaenyra burst into your room, nearly giving you a heart attack. You were ready to reprimand her, but one look at her furious, betrayed face, and you already knew. “He-” Rhaenyra bit out, “My father just announced he’s taking a new bride. Alicent.” 

You leaned back in your seat, your heart sinking. So Viserys had gone with it after all. You felt disappointment dawning on you, as well as guilt as you watched Rhaenyra pace around the room frustratedly. “I just don’t understand, how? He was going to marry Lady Laena, he swore it to me yesterday, when did he even get acquainted with Alicent?” Rhaenyra swung back to face you again, but she froze when she caught sight of your guilty expression. “Seven hells,” she breathed out, “You knew?” You closed your book, standing up, “I did, but I didn’t expect-” Rhaenyra let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Save it, Y/N. I do not wish to hear it now. I thought I could trust you.” “Rhaenyra-” you beseeched, but she had already turned her heel and left, slamming the chamber door shut behind her. You sunk back down in your seat, your heart pounding. By the gods, what a mess. 

Your chamber was once more the recipient of another visitor, though it might not have been the one you hoped for. “Rhaenyra?” you called out hopefully, only to be surprised when the timid form of Alicent appeared instead. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and you noticed fresh wounds on her nails once again. “Alicent…” you walked towards her, taking her hands in yours. Alicent began to cry then, and you drew her into your embrace, closing your eyes as you felt Alicent’s tears staining the front of your gown. 

A while later, you had seated Alicent on your bed, observing her as she cradled in her hand the cup of tea a servant had fetched for her. “I thought I knew how heavy this burden was,” she spoke, her voice barely a whisper as she looked despondently into her cup. “But I wasn’t expecting it to feel so painful.” You chewed your lip, as you focused on applying the ointment to the fresh wounds on her left hand. “I thought I was prepared, but I did not realise this would mean I would lose Rhaenyra.” 

Your heart was pounding as well, though not for the same reasons as Alicent. Rhaenyra’s backlash towards this announcement didn’t just signal an end to her ties with Alicent, but also with you. You remembered vividly how betrayed she had looked when she came to realise that you had known, and you had not told her. There was no coming back from that. Apart from your guilt however, you also felt a steady sense of despair building up in you. You had spent the past six months relying on the favour of Rhaenyra to prevent your expulsion from court and back home, how was that to go about now? 

“Oftentimes, life changes in ways we cannot anticipate,” you began quietly, trying to think of your next steps. “But it is best not to dwell on it, to move on and adapt.” Alicent looked distraught at that, but she kept silent, save for the tear trailing down her cheek. You finished applying the ointment to Alicent’s left hand, moving onto her right hand. Suddenly, an idea struck you. “Alicent, I know this is a bit sudden,” you said gingerly, “But if I may…I would like to request to serve you as your lady-in-waiting.” Alicent looked surprised, though there was no anger in her expression, much to your relief. You were worried that you might have overstepped, but Alicent only put down her cup of tea and squeezed your hand, “I would be honoured to have you as my lady-in-waiting, Y/N.” 

You had to refrain from sighing with relief, pleased that your gamble had worked out. You were banking on your close ties with Alicent now, and a queen’s power was surely more reliable than a princess’. At least, good enough to keep you at the Red Keep. Once again, you felt guilty for using Alicent this way, but it was not out of malicious intent either: you truly did care for Alicent like a daughter, much like you had with Rhaenyra. Besides…you realised that Alicent’s current predicament was much like that of your worst nightmares. The realisation left a bitter taste on your tongue. Alicent was everything you vowed you would never end up being, and watching all this unfold in front of you while you were powerless to stop it - it felt gut-wrenching. 

“Y/N,” Alicent’s soft voice snapped you out of your reality. You looked at her questioningly, seeing hesitation in her eyes. “If I may ask…why did the King never choose to marry you?” You felt an initial urge to cringe, but then you realised it was a valid question, and a good one at that. “The King clearly cares for you, and values you greatly. And not to mention, you are the sole heir to Highgarden,” Alicent looked unsure, “It would be a prudent decision to marry you, a brilliant match, even. Far eclipsing the advantages of a union with the daughter of the Hand of the King. Why has the King never considered that?” 

You fell silent, deep in thought. The points she made were excellent, and even though you felt discomfited by it, you were curious to know as well. In the end, you could only reply, “I do not know, Alicent.” 

“Your Grace,” you greeted stiffly, curtsying to Viserys, much to his distress. He reached out to you, trying to help you up, but you only stepped away. The hurt on his face almost made you feel guilty for your coldness, but you couldn’t stand to look at him right now. If it hadn’t been for him summoning you to his solar, you would’ve continued giving him the cold shoulder. 

Viserys sighed, giving up as he turned towards his model of the Old Valyria. His next question made you raise your eyebrows incredulously. “How is Rhaenyra coping with the news?” Unease grew in you, “Shouldn’t you be asking about Alicent instead, Your Grace?” Viserys grimaced at your use of formalities. “Alicent seems perfectly content, does she not? It is Rhaenyra whom I should be concerned about now.” 

You frowned, “It is quite the opposite, actually. Rhaenyra is angry, but I’m sure she will calm down sooner or late.” Viserys seems assuaged by that, retreating to take a seat at the armchairs before the fireplace. “I am thankful to hear that.” You took a seat next to him, levelling a hard glare at him. “And what of Alicent?” Viserys looked surprised, “What of her?” “She seems distraught over this match.” Viserys furrowed his brows, “This union brings her more benefit than it does me, what does she have to be distraught about? She will be Queen.” You finally exploded, “And so?” you demanded, rising up from your seat. “It is clear that she is unhappy with this match. She came to me crying today, Viserys. She’s frightened by the prospect of this marriage. And it is clear that she is  being used as a political pawn in her father’s games. How can you say she will not be distraught by this?” You half expected Viserys to get up and order you to leave, but he only sighed and washed a hand over his face. “Y/N,” he began slowly, gesturing for you to sit down. You refused, staring at him with defiant eyes. He sighed, sometimes you reminded him so much of Daemon that it was a wonder you were not a Targaryen yourself. That stubborn persistence and fiery temper…

“Alicent may be unhappy now, but I did not force her into this match.” He sighed again at your disbelieving expression, “Think of it this way, if she had vehemently opposed this match, she wouldn't have willingly visited my chambers every night without fail for the past six months. It was a scheme engineered by Otto, that I can see, but even so, Alicent wanted this. If she had been unwilling, she wouldn’t have taken the initiative to get closer to me, to indulge me in my interests.” 

You were still frowning, but you slowly lowered yourself back into your seat. You didn’t want to believe in Viserys’ words, but he had no reason to lie. “Ambition is a fickle thing, Y/N,” Viserys turned his gaze to the fire. “Some men choose to deny it, to preserve the illusion of their humility. But the truth is, every man is akin to a starving man when he sees a banquet when it comes to power. Do not underestimate the temptation of power, Y/N. Many men claim they do not desire it, but no one can resist it. Alicent is no different. She may feel uncomfortable with this match at first, but there is a small sliver of her that covets this position, and the power she can wield with it.” 

You chose to say nothing, but you tightened your grip on your armrests as Viserys spoke. Viserys sighed, turning his gaze back to you. “I have to be frank with you…my ideal match when I first heard the topic of remarriage being brought up, was you, Y/N.” You finally met his gaze again, mouth agape. “What?” 

Viserys nodded wearily, “It would’ve seemed natural. After all, we grew up together, and you are one of the people I hold dearest to my heart. I would have been happy to take you as my wife.” Your stomach began to churn. “But, I knew…with your temperament, you would never be happy in this marriage with me.” Viserys smiled ruefully at you, “I knew Aemma would have never wanted me to trap you in an unhappy marriage, and I don’t either.” 

“But you’re alright with trapping Alicent in an unhappy marriage instead?” you snapped. Viserys looked resigned, recognising that he would not be able to get through to you. “Alicent’s…distress over this match would fade sooner or late. Furthermore, I genuinely do care for Alicent’s wellbeing, and I will see to it she lacks for nothing as my queen.” “Material possessions do not equate to happiness, Viserys,” you said angrily. Viserys finally slams down his hand on his armrest, shocking you into silence. It was in rare moments like this where you are reminded that Viserys was still of the blood of the dragon, and that he was still your king. You grimaced, realising you might have spoken too carelessly. 

“What would you have me do then, Y/N?” Viserys blustered angrily, “Do you think getting remarried brings me joy? Every time I think about it, the thought sends me into a spiral of despair. That I would have to take a new wife, sire new heirs, with someone whom I might not love. Alicent may not be Aemma, but I care for her a great deal, and I will not have you deny it.” Viserys sinks back into his seat, his rage slowly turning back into that resigned, mournful look you’ve seen him wear so much lately. His voice cracked a little as he spoke, “I’m just…so tired, Y/N. You are my closest confidant, and even you can’t seem to understand how I feel, what I’m going through. After Aemma, I find myself losing the will to go through my days more and more with each passing day. It feels like my life has been drained out of me. I never liked partaking in the intrigues of court either, and without Aemma, it has only grown harder to bear. Alicent lessened the burden of grief on my shoulders. When I was with her, it felt like I could just…be. No kingly duties, no responsibilities, no Small Council on my back, nitpicking my every move, scheming to consolidate power. She made me feel like I was just Viserys, a feeling I only experienced with you, Aemma, and Daemon.” 

“...you really do care for her then?” you asked quietly. Viserys nods, looking earnest. “I do. Trust me, Y/N, I would not do anything to cause her unhappiness. And I believe as time passes, I will grow to feel love for her.” You played with your fingers uncomfortably, not knowing what to make of this conversation. Your insight into Viserys’ thoughts only sowed more conflict into your already torn feelings towards him, and you didn’t know what the right thing was to do anymore. The two of you stared into the roaring fire, as the solar was enveloped in a thick blanket of tense, pensive silence. 

On Driftmark, there was silence as well. But this silence felt more taut, more dangerous, like a provoked beast who was readying to strike. 

At least that’s what Daemon Targaryen thought as he took a swig of Arbor Gold from his goblet, taking in his surroundings. The Velaryons had a strange taste for decor, which he assumed was an acquired taste. 

Lord Corlys sat from across him, a surly expression on his face as he spoke. Daemon couldn’t find it in him to pay attention to the man’s incessant complaints. His mind kept wandering back, much to his frustration, to his conversation with Mysaria a few days ago. Her words, her caution, her fear…so unlike a certain someone he knew.

His mind couldn’t help but chase thoughts of her wellbeing. Had she heeded his advice? Had he gotten through to her, even with her stubborn insistence? Surely she must know that he only wished for the best for her. She was like family to him after all.

Lord Corlys clears his throat, and Daemon slid his focus back to him, a bored look on his face. “You are aware the King has taken Alicent Hightower to wed?” Lord Corlys asks, a shifty look that Daemon couldn’t quite place filling his eyes. Daemon shot him an irate look. It was hard not to know, particularly since this matter was what led him to be sitting in this exact chair, listening to Lord Corlys blather about angrily. 

“I heard that the Hightower girl has announced Lady Y/N as her chief lady-in-waiting.” This snapped Daemon back to attention. He took another sip of his wine to hide his smirk, ‘So she is cleverer than I gave her credit for.’  

“I don’t see how that relates to why you asked me here, Lord Corlys,” Daemon’s voice was annoyed. Lord Corlys’ expression turned sly, “In all honesty, I had expected that the King might have taken Lady Y/N to be his bride instead. He gave off the impression he might.” Daemon’s eyebrows shot to his forehead, and he nearly choked on his wine. “I can assure you, Lady Y/N would never let that happen,” Daemon told Lord Corlys, voice dripping with amusement. “But he is the King. It is quite impossible to refuse an order from the King. And besides,” Lord Corlys’ lips quirked upwards, “I have heard that Lady Y/N is rather fond of your brother herself. She has been dining with him each night since Queen Aemma’s passing.” 

Daemon tried to keep his expression impassive, but his grip on his goblet tightened. The thought of his brother taking Y/N to wed…it sent an odd, visceral feeling through him. Something that was akin to possessiveness and…jealousy? Mayhaps he was drunk. There was simply no way. No way at all. 

Lord Corlys smirked, the Prince’s dark expression told him that he had been successful in inciting some anger in the Prince against the King. Which was exactly all he needed. And soon enough, it was official: Daemon Targaryen had just agreed to wage war on the Stepstones.

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish @urmomsgirlfriend1 @thelittleswanao3 @animelover18 @llovinjoonie @gracielikegrapes @salembridger @itszzmoon @kmmg98 @travelingmypassion @zae5 @norestfortheshelbywicked @soleilgrec @anehkael​

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those who are bolded are those who couldn’t be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form! 

A/N: so if you made this far, bless you. This was a very long chapter, so hats off to you for finishing it 💗 the next chapter will be much shorter, I promise, although it might take longer because i’m going on a short trip. hopefully i can get it done by next wednesday! 

as always, if you loved this chapter, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you for your support 💗 

[vaalthus]

Dragonfable Book 3 Epilogue (spoilers)

Finally, upon the closing act.

They're nobles Victoria, all they do is whine to each other.

I knew it was only a matter of time before those that dwell on the other side of the Deadlands Rift were going to really amp up their incursion into our side of the fence but if they're already becoming more frequent at the epilogue then perhaps, we'll be heading there far sooner in Book 4 than previously thought, assuming it's not part of the opening act of course.

*sigh* As I anticipated in Convergence Part 1, there was always going to still be people that vehemently supported the Rose on the basis of the good that the organization stood for but boy am I not liking this guy's take when presented with the information that the Rose was engaging in acts of unwarranted cruelty.

Man do I love it when characters that are royals or nobles have the preference of their titles being cast aside with their closest friends. Only informal greetings for you my dearest of friends.

Honestly, not all that surprising. It wouldn't be the first time a group high in a governing body tried to manipulate events to their own ends through a figure that no longer holds political power, regardless if they relinquished that power willingly or not, and I could easily see many of these nobles, though obviously those that looked favorably upon the Rose, looking to Alteon to undermine Victoria's authority no matter how much the man stood to the sidelines or not. That these nobles are even callous enough to pester Brittany, as she's still recovering, would seem to be proof enough of this fact.

There is another reason why this is a matured response from Victoria on Alteon staying away, but I'll get to that later.

And here we have quite the appropriate reaction to finding out how you and everyone else around you came close to dying due to an uncaring god waking up from a nap.

The real meat of what we tell the crowd however is far more interesting however

I must say when Jaania asked the Hero what they would tell the people about her and what happened at the Fissure, I never would have expected the player being given the following options. The truth of the matter seemed straightforward. Yet, now I understand in this moment how our feelings upon Jaania and her actions might either color or highlight how we present the truth to the public. For all intents and purposes, there really are no lies in either of the speeches given just a difference in levels of gentleness or harshness depending on whether you land squarely in the camp that she was a hero that made some really terrible missteps throughout this entire saga in her quest for peace or a fool that left misery in her wake for her obsessive need to be in control.

The more neutral truth of course is that the answer lies somewhere in the middle in terms of who Jaania was as a person and the choices she made but I must admit that I do like that there is this divide between how the speeches are delivered based on how intense players might have felt about her.

Good to know that the Ateala can now move freely across Greenguard once again. Kind of sucked that they were being given no choice to remain in Atrea because the Rose attacked them.

I don't think I'm ready for a depressed Yashta. He's been stoic and vigilant so far but with the Empress currently out of commission and him now having more time to himself to be alone with the grief of "failing" his task it feels like there's no telling how he'll be the next time we see him.

It seems clear to me that Safiria's "indifference" to the matter is her way of letting Thursday slowly take the reigns as the one who will eventually "unite" Darkovia as she put it which is kind of sweet since it's making Thursday as more legitimate authority figure. Though I am somewhat concerned what this might mean for those within Safiria's own halls, though I doubt there are any vampires dumb enough to challenge her at the moment.

As I said before, on one hand it's good that the dragonslayers and the dragonlords are now in close proximity to each other so that they are less suspicious and more open to dialogue between each other but I can't say that I'm less concerned that the close proximity might also make it easy for them to start fighting again as well especially now that there is a disconnect in leadership for the dragonlords once more and if the slayers resentment towards dragons ever reach a boiling point...well I just hope the goodwill we saw at the end of Awakened Depths lasts.

It's so heartwarming to see Nythera go from the girl that wanted Warlic dead for petty reasons to the one that mourns him as one of the people she now likely respects the most.

gonna be a long while before that wound heals

Now this epilogue slide right here really shows Victoria's maturity when making decisions as queen. While less cooler heads may have been prone to simply dismantle the Rose completely and call it a day, putting the organization under state control might be in everyone best interest as it makes it accountable directly to the crown. Furthermore, it will likely make it more difficult for the nobility, be it the ones we've just seen or more egregious examples like Lysander, to try and use the institution to their own ends.

Additionally, this new arm of Greenguard might just be a worthy substitute to the already dwindling position that is the Guardian Order when it comes to giving people aid against magical threats.

I wonder what lands they'll find themselves in next if the main goal is to find a way to completely free himself of his connection to the Shadowscythe armor.

Buddy the debt was paid when we kept quiet about you to everyone else.

So glad we said it to his face

It's funny, in another time and in another place this statue is probably something new budding mages would see as they entered an academy to learn about magic and learn from the most renowned of magical scholars. A whole different life on what could have been had that tragic day never happened.

[chaoticpallascat]

A defence of “I have no one”

When I first heard it my thought was also “but there’s Donna and Rose and Wilf and everyone now, in this exact time and this exact city, wasn’t that the whole point of the 60th?”

But then I realised, no, this is in no way minimising the The-Nobles-is-my-adopted-family plot.

Because he can say that when he still considers the Nobles family. He knows they are there, in that exact time, in that exact city, but his hands are tied. He can’t visit them as often as he wishes. Even for the Doctor crossing their own timeline is dangerous stuff, and doing that in London aka the biggest trouble magnet in the known universe is just to invite disaster. There might be a few times he could visit, but we know Donna - if she meets 15 she WILL tell 14. So any time 15 did visit, 14 will know. And 15 remembers 14 (as established in the Giggles), so 15 will remember. That means for 15, even if he could visit, there will alway be a count down. Every time he does visit, he is one time closer to his last. At the very least, he has to extremely careful when he visits, in order for everything to go according to his memory. If thats the case, I think it’s likely that, in his vulnerable times, 15 will feel like the Nobles are primarily 14’s family. Still HIS family, the Doctor’s family, but, you know, subtle differences.

So although“I have no one” was said after “you have the biggest family on Earth”, it doesn’t necessarily mean “I have no family Donna doesn’t count”. It can mean “You have a big family, that’s so sweet. That reminds me of mine. I thought Gallifrey was my family, but it isn’t. I also have the Nobles, but I can’t go to them anymore. So now here I am, all alone again. ” In other words, “I have no one” is not necessarily a juxtaposition to “you have the biggest family”, it’s an emotional response to it.

It’s the old sentiment, the most basic tragedy of the Doctor as a character, their loneliness. The Doctor makes friends, and then they drift apart, and now the Doctor has to go on on their own. They feel lonely, and think they have no one. That doesn’t mean they do not consider former companions friends anymore, they just presently literally have no one with them and they are allowed to feel pain for that.

But as heartbreaking it is there’s a silver lining. To be able to say that himself, not as a response to any question but right the moment as it occurred to him, to someone he has only just met (rather than, say, Wilf) is new. 15 is making an observation to his current situation and allowing himself to outwardly emotionally react to the weight of that observation. That weight being his whole existence. This is what I call therapy progress.

Oooor I might just be fanning too hard. I mean, 15. Ruby. I fucking love them and I WILL defend them XD.

[being-of-rain]

I thought I might remake and tweak a post of mine from a few Pride Months ago.

Being queer in fandom often means enjoying and finding meaning in your own interpretations of characters, but it can still be nice to see bits of yourself reflected in official media. So for my own entertainment I tried compiling a list of Doctor Who companions who were established as or intentionally implied to be queer in licensed stories. In a franchise as long-lived, wide-reaching, and beloved by queer people as Doctor Who, that criteria can be flexible and subjective, but here’s what I came up with anyway.

I’ve given references to the stories where the companions’ sexuality is confirmed or implied (I haven’t included Time Lords even though their own relationship to gender and sexuality is automatically queer compared to humans). I included specific sexualities only when I remember it being specified enough to warrant it, but obviously this could easily be debated endlessly.

This list is limited by what I remember and can find out, and if you want to reblog and add on to it feel free! It’s in order from the Doctor’s point of view, for the sake of my sanity (though I believe in order of publication, the first companion to be explicitly queer is Chris Cwej).

-Oliver Harper (gay, audio The Cold Equations) -Liz Shaw (the BBV spin-off P.R.O.B.E.) -Mike Yates (implied in novel Happy Endings) -Adric (bi, audio A Full Life) -Nyssa (webcast Farewell, Sarah Jane) -Tegan Jovanka (webcast Farewell, Sarah Jane) -Ace McShane (bi, implied in Survival and the audio The Grey Man of the Mountain) -Bernice Summerfield (bi, novel Genius Loci etc) -Chris Cwej (novel Damaged Goods) -Izzy Sinclair (lesbian, comic Oblivion) -Fey Truscott-Sade (comic Oblivion) -Sam Jones (bi, novel Seeing I) -Fitz Kreiner (bi, novel The Taint etc) -Liv Chenka (audio Wild Animals etc) -Helen Sinclair (lesbian, audio The Love Vampires) -Tania Bell (transgender lesbian, audio Wild Animals etc) -Jack Harkness (pan, The Doctor Dances etc) -Cindy Wu (bi, comic Breakfast at Tyranny's etc) -River Song (pan, The Husbands of River Song) -Valarie Lockwood (bi, audio All of Time and Space etc) -Clara Oswald (bi, implied in The Magician’s Apprentice, Face the Raven) -Bill Potts (lesbian, The Pilot etc) -Yasmin Khan (Eve of the Daleks etc) -Rose Noble (transgender, The Star Beast etc)

Shoutout to all the companions I missed, to companions who almost make the list, to recurring characters, and of course to all our headcanons.