#shipping her with Thorn deal with it

[nikyminicz]

From Coruscant Guard to the Wolf Pack

[alkelkha]

pretty girl, pretty smile.

ship & contents : jinx x fem!reader, fluff, kissing, light dialogue, i did this instead of studying for my exam, save me jinx save me, i'm in love with jinx and so are you

jinx is beautiful (common knowledge), but i don't think she fully understands that herself. when it comes to her looks she's strangely humble with it. she knows she's pretty...

that's all.

she doesn't dwell on it too much. she does her makeup and goes on with her day. at first, she was confused as to why you would act all weird around her. why you would stare at her.

— "got something to share with the class, toots?"

there was a time when she got up close and personal with you, waving an empty gun at your face and you couldn't even focus. you felt hot all over. was the heater on?

jinx doesn't even have to be close to you for you to freak out like this. there was this one time she was doing a job for silco, and you were tagging along.

you were no better than a man.

you were checking her out as you walked behind her. slim, small waist, long silky hair, beautifully proportioned, tattoos that only added to her character, the way she walked put you in a trance.

— "like what you see, sprinkles?"

she was so pretty that it physically hurt you in the best way possible.

taking off her makeup whenever she didn't have the energy, for it felt like a gift from the gods.

blue eyeshadow. smeared lipstick. mascara stains on her cheeks. carefully wiping her face down as she would lay on her chair, manspreading, completely exhausted.

she didn't even notice you finished, she was just so relaxed, she felt like putty. her eyes fluttered open to find your eyes completely glued to her face with a soft upturn on your lips.

you were looking at her as if she were the greatest thing to have ever come from the gods.

she couldn't even get a word in before you tackled her with a hug causing the both of you to fall over on the chair.

but when she smiles its game over.

a genuine, pure smile, perfectly captured in the moment from jinx is truly a sight to behold. when she smiles, it eases your heart. it seems like the world has lifted off her shoulders, and since she's so relaxed, you can relax.

she cracks another dumb joke of hers, and since you're an angel, you laugh as if it's the funniest thing ever. you laugh with your chest because it really was funny.

it was one of those stupid jokes she makes. It doesn't quite land right, but after a few moments of silence, you burst out laughing.

seeing you like that had jinx's heart in a chokehold. she couldn't explain it. her heart was on fire. her heart was prickled by a thousand thorns. and it felt amazing.

a twinkle could be found in her red-violet eyes. she was smiling. a feeling of pride washed over her. she made you laugh this hard. she was the one that made you this happy. your smile was a virus.

bright smile, cute little gap between her two front teeth.

wiping your eyes from the tears of laughter, you finally caught it. your heart felt as if it was gift-wrapped in silk and tugged on. cuteness aggression got to you.

— "why are you looking at me like that?"

her smile turns into a slight pout, feeling a bit self-anxious. you throw yourself on pinching her cheeks begging for her to smile one more time.

— "aww, you're so cute!"

jinx tries to push you off.

— "what's you're deal!?"

she wasn't even really trying to push you off. she liked it too much. her lips pecked all over her face. eyebrow, corner of her lips, nose, cheek, forehead, chin. everywhere.

— "i can't help it, you're so pretty!"

i haven't forgotten about TRINKET, i promise. i just have finals. once it's winter break i'll continue! don't worry i'm cooking. also, i am open to requests (nsfw & sfw).

[poppedbubblgum]

I read these concepts for Prime Silver by @krafterwrites and liked them so much I made designs of my own based off of them

And maybe gave them a few headcanons of my own :3

New Yoke Silver adopted the nickname “Ghost” from the citizens when he would vanish after doing a good deed. The resistance tried to recruit him on multiple occasions, but he refused, choosing to stay on his own, for better or worse. He’s not unkind, but he can get so wrapped up in his missions that it’s hard to get through to him. He has a little bunker of his own, similar to Nine, in the outskirts of the city. He only lets himself be seen when absolutely necessary, as his powers make him a major target for the council. He has the most developed skill with his powers compared to his alternates.

Spending so much time alone on his small boat means that No Place Silver (Skipper) is quite excitable when meeting anyone new. He did have a crew once, but the ship caught fire and sank, leaving him as the sole survivor on his little dinghy. That incident is why he needs the eyepatch too. While his boat does have a sail he crafted himself, he can move the boat while in the water with his powers. His powers help him survive on the open ocean where many others couldn’t, like he can simply grab fish from underwater (with marginal success) to eat. He loves to help but can sometimes go a bit overboard.

Boscage Silver (Sliver) wants to be left alone. Period. Never mind that he just stole your stuff, get within 10 feet of him and you are getting a tree flung at you. Ironically though, he’s really good friends with Mangey. He’s a man of few words, with only the occasional grunt to be heard. He’s terrified of Thorn, but prefers dealing with her to living with the other scavengers. His powers are really bright in the dim of the undergrowth, which means thorn can find him easier, so he doesn’t use them regularly, mostly for fighting and fleeing. Sometimes he disguises himself as a bush with how fluffy his head spines are.

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Fic Compilation

Love Is... : After a practicing a 'welcome home' kiss with Yor, Twilight develops symptoms he had never experienced before: a rush of energy, good mood (when near his family), voracious appetite for his wife's cooking, aggressive behavior towards other men (who dare to come near his wife) and a desperate need to kiss Yor again. This is the first rut of his life. How will Twilight deal with this? (Multichapter. Completed!)

With Murderous Intent, I Love You: Yor and Loid meet before Operation Strix and fall in love, but have to separate. Later they find each other again aboard a cruise ship. Unfortunately, Loid is Yor's target. Based on Spy x Family Season 2 ED Music Video Todome no Ichigeki. (Completed).

Eden's Ball: A cute Twiyor Eden AU. Eden's Student Council is hosting the event of the year: a ball! This is the perfect opportunity for Loid Forger to finally ask Yor Briar to be his girlfriend. There's only one problem...he needs to ask her to the ball first (Two-shot, completed).

Fate: In this AU, Loid Forger and Yor Briar meet as children and are best friends who plan on spending the rest of their lives together. Nevertheless, they are separated after the bombing of their town. Years after the war, they find each other again in a very unlikely place. (Multichapter, completed)

The Rose: An alternate universe in which Twilight and Thorn Princess meet before Operation Strix. During a Governor's ball, Twilight faces the most important mission of his life: to steal the Thorn Princess. (Completed).

A Kissing Disaster: After their identity reveal, Twilight and Yor must navigate one important aspect of their relationship: intimacy. Twilight is more than ready for it, but Yor still lacks experience. Getting carried away can bring unexpected consequences. (Completed).

Addicted to Yor: Upon realizing he's become addicted to his wife, a very touch-starved Twilight resolves to stop touching her all the time. Will he succeed? Spoiler: No he won't. The man is hopelessly in love with Yor. (Completed).

Joint Mission: On the first joint mission between the Garden and WISE, Thorn Princess overhears something that makes her doubt her husband's love for her. Twilight's most important mission now is to reassure his wife. (Completed).

The Divorce: Twilight and Thorn Princess discover each other identities during a side mission. After that, Twilight knows his marriage is over. But can he go through with what needs to be done? (Completed).

Last Days of Operation Strix: Twilight can feel it: Operation Stix will soon be over. It's almost time for Loid Forger to die. He's supposed to have a clean exit like his other missions, but Strix is NOT like any other mission. As much as he tries to deny it, Twilight has been compromised. Now he needs to choose between his duty and his love for his family. (Multichapter. Completed!)

As a Real Family: A series of tooth-rotting fluff one-shots in non-chronological order in the same universe as Last Days of Operation Strix. Just some domestic fluff about the Forgers, including super cute Twiyor baby.

Until You Come Back to Me: (Actors AU/Eden AU) Everyone knew actors Yor Briar and Loid Forger had a long history together. But seven years ago they parted ways and moved on with their lives. Now Loid Forger is coming back to Ostania. Nobody knows he's now a spy for Westalis. His mission: To spy on Prime Minister Donovan Desmond. To achieve this, he'll have to get close to his former love, Yor Briar, and manipulate her into spying for him. His agency, WISE, was very clear to him: Do whatever it takes, whether is a heartfelt reconciliation, friendship, or even...seduction. (Major angst warning for this one).

Fake ID: In this Eden AU, teenagers Loid and Franky will do anything to get into a nightclub to see their favorite band. (A small prequel of Until You Come Back to Me). (Completed).

Also, thank you to all the artists who have crafted fanarts from these fics. I appreciate you and your beautiful art from the bottom of my heart 💖

@artbyluro

@juuyeah

@juuyeah

@astersugar

@pokianne

@giushia

[inkyquince]

Sincerely, Bailey (Commission)

characters. Bailey. (Hinted Briar. And Harper is Bcc'd out of worry)

cw. implied drunken bailey. violence, both physical and sexual. angry emotional bailey. mentions of sex trafficking, Robin slander. dubious consent of treatment of pc.

notes. Letter Commission for PippyLI! Once again, SO sorry how long it took to get out, having to do IRL stuff for a year basically sucked. Hope you enjoyed angry emotional Bailey! Thank you! Sorry i was FIGHTING to get this into an email format but oh my god it wasn't working at all.

From: CaretakersForYourNeeds@ub.com 

To: thorns@ub.com

Subject: 50% off Paneling for your Home, 5 Star Reviews Draft

B, look over this draft before I send it. 

Hello Customer! 

We are having a big sale on our boys coming in and sprucing up your home! Spend over £250 on our service and we shall knock off £20 to a whole new paint job for a whole room! Then £10 off for every third room painted! Spend over £500 on our service and we shall install new radiators for half price! 

Enough of that. If your wife reads further than that paragraph of what’s an obvious spam email, she’s too stupid to to be alive. Get rid of her and stop wasting my time. 

This is more of a courtesy email about your inquiry into one of our selections, number 209. I’ve been the caretaker of numbers 191 to 220 for a long time, and I can personally attest that that product is not suited for what you’ve outlined you wish to do. I know on their file it recommends consumers should enjoy taming, sadism, bondage at most in order to get any use out of them. However, in my professional opinion, they should be taken off the list and left to the gropers and rapists wandering the town, and the customers at the brothel. 

In my personal experience, they would have benefited to be put directly into the brothel  or the farm right away. Give them hands-on experience immediately rather than wasting time making them make money by themselves. They started out very promising in the beginning, very malleable but have proven to be a nuisance to both myself and the people around them. Either that or be put permanently underneath my care to make sure minor annoyances are kept at a minimum. 

They refuse to behave, even under threat of assault or worse. I do not think that anyone other than myself could handle them. Now, before I get a complaint from you, no, it’s not because I’m their caretaker and have paternal feelings towards them. I’ve watched them get their cunt stretched out by strange cocks too much to care about if they have a good time having sex. I would be helping the public by keeping them under lock and key. 

So my counter offer will be to take their friend, #201 in return. A whiny crybaby who reacts well to sadism. Of course, you might have to deal with them trying to save the little shit, but we don’t cover fees to do with losing a product halfway through your paid time. Just a warning. For a price of 30% of your original payment I could keep them busy so there’s no chance of missing out on your full 12 hours of paid time. 

I would be prepared to spend those 12 hours showing them exactly what happens when you don’t listen the first time. I’ve noticed that they become pliant to a rough fuck the longer it goes on, if they’re allowed to bite and get a few scratches in. No better than a mewling beast once all their thoughts go to their clit. They also seem fixated on riling me up enough to drag them down and fuck them. With other’s they bite and scratch and use pepper spray (I have no idea where they keep getting these, the supply in town is very limited), but despite the threats of shipping them off to the brothel or to a close friend, they instead fight. But no, they don’t fight me in a coherent, normal way, no, they’re diving for my cock and trying to make me cum while I’m trying to teach them to pay their rent on time. 

They love it. They love angering me, they love going into my office, they love offering up their body for a “one time” extension, even though they keep doing it, no matter how many times I ruin them against my desk, their cunt gripping me so tightly. Maybe they have a fucked up crush, or maybe they’re just sick in the head. 

But I can’t get rid of them, they bring in so much mney that I can’t kick them out. They bring in rent, they keep the other little shits quiet and they’re so fuckin good at their job that I have insane fuckheads like you asking personally to request them. But who cares, they clamp around a cock disgustingly tight, they suck down cock like it’ll divorce them if they don’t and now I have to write this breakdown on why you can’t experience that at 3am and getting hard while I do it. I never fuck orphans but apparently they live to make my day miserable and start off with a double of vodka with no fuckin mixer. All because some fuck came in after being kicked in the dick by this little shithead and wanted his fucking money back. I have to write fucking disclaimers now. What the fuck. 10 years ago we didn’t have to do this shit. What do you mean I have to spend 12 hours of my day fucking this Bin Baby so that they won’t wander away and save the most annoying boy I’ve ever met? What the fuck. The other day I had to fucking jerk off to when they buried their face in my crotch and whined for my dick. If it was anyone else, I’d kick them in the crotch until they would have to go to hospital. 

I have no idea what fucking crack their mother was smoking before throwing them in the dumpster but now I’m stuck with a little asshole who loves my dick and won’t fucking behave. You want to fuck that? Try to and you won’t be fucking found. I will fucking wring that stupid addictive scent of their body, their cunt, out of your skin, and sell it to the nearest freak. You want Morgan wearing your fucking skin for touching them? I’ll take your teeth so no one will ever fucking find you, but who would care, your wife? The one who might read a spam email? And doesn’t care that your dick hasn’t worked except for when she shit out your crotch spawn? You think I won’t fuck you up for the sake of your kids who are older than my fucking orphan? 

Fuck you and your ugly fucking kids. 

Sincerely, 

Blailey

P.S briar should i also add that if you stick your thumb in their asshole they tighten up enough that i can see stars? that the first time i fucked them i fucking said that their body always belonged to me? and it fuckin was and still is. i should break their stupid little boyfriend’s nose for thinking they own that little slut. the smell of their shower wash is fuckin insane but it isnt. makes me want to fuck their thighs and make them walk around all day smelling of cum. briar who even is this stupid fuck. 

From: thorns@ub.com

To: me

Bcc: Harper@nhs.com

Subject: RE: 50% off Paneling for your Home, 5 Star Reviews Draft

An insane person wrote this. No client will buy anything after reading this. Stop it.

-B

P.S. you misspelled money, as well as your own name. How. Are you smoking something that you aren’t sharing with the class? Also have you ever even heard of an oxford comma? Eden was the drop out, not you.

P.P.S. Don’t punch kids. Also stop drinking. 

[brightaxe]

hey, do you guys wanna see all of my rooks/datv ocs thus far? 'cause... there's a few & their stories and ships quickly unravel from canon to absolute self-indulgent nonsense.

tyrdda thorne - grey warden - mage. romance: davrin. king maric's final bastard, born nesta morbray. has been dealing with chronic illness since she was a child that the joining nearly stopped. nearly.

kehda mercar - shadow dragon - rogue. romance: varric. raised ambassadoria with an absent mother only to learn once she left the stone and became a shadow dragon that she'd inadvertently stepped right into her mom's shoes.

dascha thorne - grey warden - rogue. romance: lucanis. a young dwarven orphan who was put through the joining to keep her alive. loves leatherworking and fishing. also, has a major sweet tooth.

varivera laidir - lord of fortune - rogue. romance: neve. born to a dalish clan that lived on the sea rather than on the land. separated from her people because she didn't agree with their isolationist lifestyle.

poppaea mercar - unofficially: shadow dragons / officially: the threads - warrior. romance: the viper. poppaea made a name for herself by betraying her father's venatori allegiances directly to the leader of the shadow dragons. she's since become a thread and is doing quite well for herself (and ashur).

odette de riva - antivan crow - warrior. romance: chance candide. orlesian nobility. odette staged her own kidnapping to avoid a marriage she didn't want, selling herself into the care of an antivan man allied with house de riva.

simonetta de riva - antivan crow - rogue. romance: butcher dathraata. the artist and the muse. simonetta is an assassin and a painter and an artificer and a hedonist. illario dellamorte might be obsessed with her, but dathraata would do anything for treviso.

[kiivg]

Your Rook is ridiculously good looking. Like, I’m actually blushing and it’s all your fault

.The initial idea for him was Grave Robbing Pirate and honestly the beard options came through for me like nothing else. Guaranteed I was going to go for muttonchops/sideburns before I even knew what the CC looked like, but idk they looked a little patchy sometimes and that is NOT what Grier is about 👏 The whatever it is he has now is iconic for him, I tried making him as an elf but it was Cursed and Never-to-Be-Seen-Again. Also the balding ponytail? I saw it, and I was like yeah that’s it, that’s him, that’s exactly what I’m about.

.Also it is absolutely insane to me that he’s the first draft, I got him in one go with a little fine tuning once I figured out how the CC works. Especially considering how ugly Goddard turned out as the Inquisitor 😭😭 but now I HC he just sends somebody over in his place to act as a go between, ain’t no way he’s traipsing around with Morrigan lmao. I did make a crummy Blackwall Inq so I could get Dorian to call him Amatus 👹 Pavwall Canon UNLOCKED. (I wonder if you could make the Iron Bull tho?? Sans wide horns ofc.)

.Also, girlie, tysm!!!!!! I am ALSO very 👀😳🥴🤫🫡 about him, I’ve just started my third playthrough of him, I’m still tweaking little bits here and there as I go along. Which means ofc I’m going to be screenshotting him in every cutscene 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️.

.Some facts about my Rook, Grier Thorne, and his story below 💕🫡.

.His mother is Therasia Thorne, a Rivaini Dalish elf who left her clan for the calling of the sea, and he is an absolute mama’s boy. Will do absolutely anything she asks with very little, if any, questioning. He doesn’t know (and most likely never will) who his father is, as the man bought Therasia’s silence over their affair with two galleons and a frigate. On a side note, Therasia was known for seducing very rich men and getting pregnant in order to blackmail them. Most of the time the fathers would pay up, and there has only been one instance of the father agreeing to take the baby off her hands, her bluff was called and she regretfully left her son behind.

.He adores expensive textures, silk, dragon scales, gold, fine lace, alamarri sheep wool, phoenix feathers. If he wasn’t a career criminal turned conscript he would have been a tailor. He owns (or used to own) several dresses/robes that he would just lounge about in naked to feel the fabric against his skin. Doesn’t really think too much of leather though, it can be stiff and often chafes the skin, which is strange because he’s very much a rope man.

.He waxes most of his body hair off, and keeps everything nice and tidy. He also puts coloured powder in his open wounds to preserve the shape of them as they heal, true to his mother’s traditions.

.Has kept his face completely bare of tattoos (apart from the fish he got when he was fourteen) in an honour to his Dalish heritage; he knows he won’t ever get valaslin because he’s only a half-elf, but the prospect of it keeps his face bare.

.Is fascinated by machinery and spent a great deal of time perfecting his own tools. His own frigate was equipped with self made trident ballistas, each one would fire three harpoons (individually or all at once) secured with thick chains, crafted to hunt and bring down large game, dragons, and smaller fleeing ships.

.In tune with his love for crafting, he follows June, and not the Maker. Though he does keep this to himself and those he considers family. If asked he just says he doesn’t believe in the Maker, and refuses to elaborate.

.Absolutely fucks, big family kind of guy. He is one of nineteen children, and has nine of his own by five different women, though he assumes there’s more because he was very much a leave before the sunrise kind of guy. Now he’s matured with being in the Wardens and has been less of a dick about it all. Whether or not he’s got any chance of knowing those kids who knows 🤷‍♂️.

.Never told anyone about his past when he became a Warden, the only people who know are those who were privy to his conscription, and the higher up Wardens upon receiving his arrest and conscription reports. Most people know he’s a conscript however, he doesn’t shy away from that, and he’s had a dozen or more rumours spread about him within the order. Evka was the first person to say he was a good Warden and back him up, and I think that solidified him as a third wheel to her and Antoine.

.He was actually conscripted by order of my HoF Andrastopher Cousland, as a favour returned. Andrastopher wanted aboard his ship when the Inquisition was seeking out a new leader,(there was no way he was becoming a religious figurehead lmao) and he stayed there for a good six months or so before Zevran joined them, and another two months before returning back to Thedas. They… uh… yeah 🥴🤫.

.If he was a companion his questline would probably follow trying to kill his older brother Galo after receiving a plea for help from his sister in law Aadiyah. Turns out Galo is either a) helping the Antaam navigate the seas uncontested or b) capturing and selling slaves to the Venatori. The big question at the end would be whether to tell their daughter that he’s her dad or to let her believe Galo was her father considering he HAS just murdered him, and she has several siblings that Galo fathered too.

.His gift would be an ornamental smoking pipe or a hookah, his room would be an observatory, full of navigational maps and constellations, there would be a small tailors work bench on one side of the room complete with mannequin and a sewn outfit that would slowly complete over his personal questline. His bed would be a row boat full of pillows.

.His almost kiss scene would be him explaining that he’s no good, his past actions are very much coming to bite him in the ass, and that you should really stop flirting with him. Does he want you to stop? No. Is he going to lean in to try and kiss you? Yes. Is he going to remember that everything is playing out as it does before and pull away because he knows he’s not good enough for you? Yes.

.His romance lock in scene would be stargazing on the beach in Rivain, he’d point out a couple constellations, talk about his time seafaring (minus all the murdering and pillaging). You’d get the option to ask about a few different ones (leading to locking out of the romance) or a secret fourth one and he’d absolutely bullshit some made up romantic story that parallels him and you, and you’d call bullshit because YES it is bullshit, and he’d say something awfully sappy about making it “our constellation” and then 💋💋💋.

.The actual romance scene would be that he turns up completely naked in your room, he’ll ask if you want the Captain or the Warden, and you uh choose and uh ye a hh haha ahaaaaa 😳🥴.

[armoredisopod]

New Event PV

New Operators

Rose Salt, 5* Welfare Multi-Target Medic

If i find a way to get super rich, i'm sure you'll get your share.

Tecno, 5* Shaper Caster (new branch)

Whether anyone can see it or not, the crystals are still there, but i'm still standing.

Thorns the Lodestar, 6* Alchemist Specialist

I hear the waves crashing at the sides of the boat, heralding our victory.

With this ship at the center, i will interpret my own Iberia.

Operator Outfits Update

Total of 4 new outfits, 1 new addition for the MARTHE brand, 2 new additions for the Shining Steps brand and 1 new addition for the Icefield Messenger brand

MARTHE

Wiping Knife - Cutter (Login Event)

Shining Steps

Dreaming High - Ray

Top Tier Live - Tequila

Icefield Messenger

Inviting Snow - Harold

Harold's outfit will be up for sale during The Rides to Lake Silberneherze Retrospect

Announced outfit reruns

Series V and VI Icefield Messenger outfits (Erato, Greyy the Lightningbearer, Goldenglow, Tsukinogi, Qanipalaat, Penance)

Epoque outfits of Kjera and Puzzle

Operator Modules Update

Rose Salt being part of the Multi-Target Medic branch immediately gets her module

RIN-X module base effect gives Rose Salt an additional tile of range up front

Arts Fighter Guard branch gets 3 module types

Module 1 given to Surtr, Vina Victoria, Guard Amiya and Mousse

Module 2 given to Astesia and Sideroca

Module 3 given to Viviana

Exusiai gets her 2nd module

MAR-Y module base effect increases Exusiai's ASPD by +8 when there are ground enemies within her attack range

Events and Stories

Exodus from the Pale Sea, an Iberia side story event

The traveler who is guided by reason returns to his homeland without common sense.

He saw ships without oars traveling across a sea without water, men without desires hoisting sails without direction,

Saw a man who begged for death condemning himself to live, and a man who was robbed of everything by the sea leaving everything behind and running toward the sea.

How should he understand it, and what can he do to change it?

Uh well, first he has to figure out how to deal with the chains on his body and the gallows not far away, right?

The Rides to Lake Silberneherze Retrospect, scheduled after Exodus from the Pale Sea

Poly Vision Museum, limited time mini-games event, scheduled after The Rides to Lake Silberneherze Retrospect

Operator Archives update for Rose Salt, Tecno, Ceylon and Courier

Record Restore update for The Black Forest Wills a Dream, What the Firelight Casts and Where Vernal Winds Will Never Blow

Misc Stuff

New QoL features

Players will be able to set their birthday in-game and receive birthday rewards

Added special operator voicelines for birthday and new year's day

Added the ability to have multiple assistant operators in rotation and main menu loadouts to switch between assistant rotation and backgrounds and UI themes

New SSS QoL changes

After clearing at least one floor of an SSS mission without a support unit, players can use 2 [Regular Affairs Proxy Cards] to skip an SSS run get rewards based on highest floor completed [PRTS Proxy Annihilation Cards] players get from missions are converted to [Regular Affairs Proxy Cards], they can still be used to skip annihilation Older SSS maps will be rerun

Annihilation #29 - Paddy Field 9-7, annihilation mission with Here a People Sows enemies and mechanics

SSS New Season #7, Concert Security Service - Leithanien Philharmonic Association & Area Under Construction For Dossoles

Erato and her potential tokens along with Perfumer's [Species Plantarum] Outfit will be available in the certs shop to players that don't have them

[thescarletnargacuga]

Thank you very much I now ship raceway Jax and Gumigoo…..

Now I picture them in the middle of hardcore fighting with Jax just screaming “Kiss me!” Just in the middle of it and then the lock suck faces on the racetrack in the middle of the night……

Me in the middle of writing Chapter 10: I must write this immediately.

GUMMY BUNNY

A RACEWAY AU ONESHOT

Raceway AU by me

WARNING: heated makeout

~~~

"TAKE IT OUTSIDE!" Pomni screamed with annoyance.

Gummigoo and Jax had been arguing since the day's race ended, and everyone was sick of them. The day cycle was long over, most of the others had gone to their rooms just to shut out the bickering men.

"HE STARTED IT!" Gummigoo and Jax pointed at each other, shouting back at Pomni in tandem.

"I don't care who started it, just take your problems where no one else has to listen to you two!" Pomni's eyes glared hard anger at both of them. "We are sick and tired of it! Emphasis on the tired!! Go outside or go to bed!"

"You're not our mother." Jax spat.

"Seriously, Pomni. Why don't you go to bed? The others have." Gummigoo was all fired up, not listening to reason.

"I'll call Caine." Pomni crossed her arms.

Jax and Gummigoo glanced at each other nervously.

"I bet he's in the middle of something right now. He doesn't care to be disturbed. Imagine how upset he'd be if I had to interrupt him over this." Pomni narrowed her eyes, lifting her hand in a snapping pose.

"Now, hold on-" Gummigoo put out his hands.

"Alright! We're leaving." Jax marched for the door, Gummigoo behind him.

Pomni sat back in her recliner with a satisfied smirk. Finally, some quiet.

"Can you believe her?" Gummigoo grumbled.

"She was bluffing. I just didn't want to deal with her any more than I want to deal with you." Jax growled back.

The two walked a ways from the garage to the starting line. It was dormant for the night. Crickets filled the night air with song. The occasional firefly blinked in the grass surrounding the track. The full moon is high in the sky.

"You're going to deal with me, what her you like it or not!" Gummigoo's voice raised again as he grabbed Jax by the back of his tracksuit.

Jax raised an arm as he turned to make Gummigoo let go. "What the [%$!#]!?"

Gummigoo lunged forward, grabbed Jax by the collar and slammed him to the support beam of the start line. The larger gator held strong as Jax tried to get free. "No one here but you and me, mate. You're not going anywhere."

The fury in Gummigoo's eyes was real, that's why Jax's face was colored so darkly. He was angry, a little scared, and unexpectedly enticed by the rough treatment. He struggles to think. The quips that usually came so easily to him died in his throat. He just laughs.

Gummigoo was thrown off by the weird response. "What's so funny?? I literally have you by the neck! I could snap you in two, as scrawny as you are!"

"Oh, I wish you could." Jax laughs more. "If I thought breaking my body would be enough, I would have thrown myself under my own kart a long time ago. You can't do anything that matters. You're an NPC, just another piece of the game."

Hot breath rushed from Gummigoo's flared nostrils like a dragon. "You wanna make this personal? Alright. Your attitude not only leaves you without any friends, but without purpose in this already pointless existence! You're nothing but a nuisance! A thorn in everyone's sides! You cheat, you lie, you taunt, you tease and for WHAT? For a crumb of satisfaction? Pathetic."

Jax stopped laughing. "You wanna repeat that last part, mate?" He mocked.

Gummigoo leaned closer, pale eyes locked on Jax. "You. Are. Pathetic." He repeated himself slowly, emphasizing each word.

Jax's throat went dry. Gummigoo's teeth looked much larger this close. His heart was racing looking into the gators searing white hot eyes. He tried to save face, but not being able to get away and struggling to find words had him cornered. "If you're going to be this close to me, you better kiss me." He said in an empty attempt to get Gummigoo to back off.

Gummigoo was so mad, so far gone, he wasn't going to back down no matter what was said to him. "Nice try." He chuckled darkly. "But that would be giving you what you want, wouldn't it?"

"Wait, what!?" Jax's face flushed entirely. His bravado shattered like sugar glass. Gummigoo had entirely flipped the script and Jax was not ready for it. "It's not-"

"Oh, but it is. Every day, you single me out. Every day, you taunt me. Every DAY, you find an excuse to mess with me personally. Every race, it's just you and me duking it out for 1st. If I didn't know better, I'd say you had a crush." Gummigoo's grip tightened as he slightly closed the gap between their bodies.

Jax started to panic, his ears flattened. "You- you don't know what you're talking about! You're just-! You-!"

The end of Gummigoo's mouth was almost against Jax's, he grinned. "What's the matter, little rabbit? Scared the gator might bite? You should be."

Jax gulped. "You're all talk."

"Care to test that theory?" Gummigoo opened his maw, sharp teeth moving in on Jax's neck.

Jax squirmed. "You sugar coated lunatic! You-!" Jax froze when Gummigoo's teeth came in contact with his skin. He seethed at how good it felt.

Gummigoo could feel Jax's racing pulse. It finally dawned on him what he was doing. His pride wouldn't let him back off first. Jax hadn't told him to stop. He closed his jaws further.

A quiet moan escaped Jax. "Fu-" He panted. "Fine. You win. Just-"

Gummigoo lifted his teeth away. A clawed finger made Jax look at him. "Do you want me to stop?"

The moment of tenderness pissed Jax off all over again. "[%$!#] no! Kiss me already!"

Gummigoo crashed his lips against Jax's, pressing him against the beam with his whole body. Jax wrapped his arms around Gummigoo's neck, grabbing at the back of his head. Gummigoo picked up Jax by the thighs, holding him up against the beam for a better angle. Jax locked his legs around Gummigoo's waist. The kiss was frantic and uncoordinated, saliva dripping from their locked tongues. Gutteral moans from Gummigoo and whimpering groans from Jax was all that was heard over the crickets.

~~~

A/N: anyway, back to chapter 10. 🎶doo, doo, doo🎵

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Twenty

Rating: Explicit

Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen

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Author's Note: Happy Anniversary to Maiden! I'm so happy to those of you who've been on the journey from the start and those who have found this story along the way. We are in the final few chapters of this Arc! And to celebrate, I bring you amazing plot twists! All my love and thanks to @vampire-exgirlfriend for holding my hand and being with me every step of the way, and @darkwolf76 who loved this story first.

If you're reading here on tumblr, I'd love to hear from you! My inbox is open and I can't wait to hear your thoughts!

CHAPTER TWENTY - I'm In Over My Head

We finally arrive at Harrenhal, where you cannot escape the ghosts.

It was a fortnight by horseback and only six hours by Sunfyre to Harrenhal, but the royal progress along the Kingsroad took a moon. The people needed to see them, the queen had insisted, refusing to let them stay and ride out on dragonback. Instead, Helaena would stay, Ser Criston at her side, and the sworn sword would fly with the princess in a month’s time. Baela would fly out with them on Moondancer, Jace on Vermax, and Aemond would accompany the royal progress without Vhagar.

Harrenhal could only house so many dragons.

Abby was ready to be done with it all; her body felt like it would never stop jostling even when she was out of the wheelhouse. The days on horseback were better, but even those had left her aching from her inexperience. Aegon had whispered in her ear that it would be good practice for her, and how precious she looked bowlegged. The ribald flirtation had sent a rush of heat and anticipation through her, as well as frustration with him for making light of how uncomfortable she’d been. For his cheek, she’d bundled herself in the wheelhouse with the Crane twins, Merei Thorne, and Floris, the latter of which had her hold her tongue to keep from ranting.

She missed Wylla.

Wylla, she knew, would loop her arm through hers and recount all the wonderful ways they could make Aegon miserable. Jesting, of course, though the pair regularly snipped at one another.

Guilt roiled in Abby’s gut. After the betrothal announcement between Aemond and Floris, Wylla had taken the opportunity to flee to Stone Hedge to witness her brother’s nuptials to Lady Alys Bracken. It had been good that she did, Abby thought. She would be able to see her mother and other brothers, who had come down in order to attend her wedding, and Wylla did not know when she would see them next. Karhold was further north than Winterfell and her friend was giving up a great deal to come live at Harrenhal.

That said little of the other reasons why Wylla had eagerly left for Stone Hedge, and Abby thought of Helaena’s words all those months ago. ‘And I’ll be left alone while you and Aegon are busy making babies together!’ She felt like a poor friend and and even worse sister, unable to deny that as the weeks had passed, her focus had been less on duties she’d taken so seriously, of being there for those she cared for, and more focused on the making of her wedding dress, of the stealing time with Aegon with a desperate heat and wanting, of responding to well wishes and organizing a household… when she had promised to always be there for Helaena. When she had begun to foster a love and friendship with Wylla that had grown into its own sisterhood.

Jace had so easily comforted Helaena during her difficult days when Abby was pulled away or otherwise occupied. And Wylla had not even told her of the budding romance between her and Aemond - now brutally cut short in the wake of politics beyond their control. So consumed she’d been with Aegon, with everything else, things that, selfishly, were for her and her alone, and so easily she’d forgotten those she vowed to care for.

Abby would do all she could to make up for it. She would ensure that Wylla did not feel forgotten, that her and Helaena could indeed visit often. She would write, she would-

“Lady Abrogail?”

Desmera’s voice cut through the swirl of guilty words flitting through Abby’s head and she looked up at the Crane girl. Desma, Abby corrected herself. Desmera preferred Desma. She was holding the wool kirtle in her arms, the shade of green as lush and dark as the fields they passed through with red weirwood embroidery along the arms. The surcoat carefully folded on the table was half red and half blue and edged in silvery rabbit fur, among the other parts of her heraldic dress. She would not be in the wheelhouse as they came into Harrentown, and the parade that announced their arrival would be a large one. Already they had seen an uptick of traffic along the Kingsroad and the tents in the fields, the small inns filled to bursting the closer they were. With only a few hours until they approached the town, it was almost like they were approaching King’s Landing. Merchants were setting up along the way to hawk wares and Abby knew that the crowd would be thicker the closer they crept

The distant call of dragons echoed outside the tent and Abby and Desma poked their heads out the flap to crane their necks to look up.

“I can’t believe Ser Criston is riding dragonback with the princess,” Desma murmured, and Abby laughed. He had stayed behind with Helaena, and Abby knew it was to keep an eye on Jace. What Abby would have given to see the look on the knight’s face when he was told that he would fly with Helaena. Not even Queen Alicent had flown with her children, despite both Aegon and Helaena’s offers.

Abby knew how big dragons were, having been around them her whole life, but this was different. With no expansive sprawl of King’s Landing or the Great Sept to compare, they seemed even larger. Past the many tents of the camps, the moors of the Riverlands was all there was. No buildings, no great mountains or spires or monuments. Just the green, rolling hills surrounding the Kingsroad and the forest beyond.

Dreamfyre’s bulk was impressive, the blue and silver of her scales standing out in the morning light, her call warm and low, melodic in a way that was surprising for a dragon. Two smaller dragons were flying about, answering the calls, scales in shades of jade and bronze and silver as Jace and Baela danced around the great dragon.

There was another familiar call, the trilling echoing across the moor like a song. Abby’s heart swelled, hearing Aegon’s happy shout from somewhere inside the camp as Sunfyre gleamed as bright as the morning sun. How she missed him, how she missed being free in the air where nothing else mattered.

Desma tugged on her elbow, laughing. “Come back here, Abby, you’re still in your nightgown.”

Abby allowed herself to be pulled back in the tent, and was soon joined by Merei Thorne, who came bearing a plate of cold meats and bread and warm cider to break her fast.

“I’m ready to be done with all this mud,” she groused, dark hair loose and free about her shoulders, her swarthy skin flushed from the cool morning air. “Ser Rickard says the crowds up the road will be thick by the time we reach them.” Merei’s uncle was a member of the Kingsguard, and Abby was grateful that she had sought information before arriving.

She let herself be tugged out of her nightgown and a fresh chemise pulled over her head before Desma got her into the green kirtle and Merei shoved a piece of bread with ham into Abby’s open mouth. “Wylla’s sent word this morning with the rider.” Merei waved the scroll around. “Your rooms have been made ready, and Lythene and Sarra are settling in, so all you need to do is arrange things to your liking.”

Abby eagerly reached for the scroll as the girls laced her into the kirtle. It was a short message, but Wylla’s handwriting was comforting and familiar.

“Is Alys another one of your ladies?” Merei asked, moving the surcoat out of the way while Abby sat to eat. Desma opened the box of combs and ribbons and hairpins to get to work on her curls.

Wylla’s letter had mentioned help from Alys Rivers, and Abby shook her head before Desma pinched her to keep still as she carefully worked Abby’s curls.

“No, she’s a member of our household. A healer and sometimes ladies maid. She helped my mother when she was pregnant with me, but declined to come to the capital with us.” Her memories of the woman were fuzzy whenever Abby tried to look at them more closely. Dark haired with large grey eyes, Alys had been a fixture when she had visited Harrenhal over the years. “It’s good that she’s helping Wylla. I know Aunt Mya has her hands full with everything and my cousin, Deidre, is there to help.” Deidre, the future Lady Smallwood of Acorn Hall, had grown up at Harrenhal and would prove helpful in this busy time of preparation. Deidre’s younger sister, Cassana, lived at Runestone and would be arriving with Lord Yorick’s party soon.

Desma’s hands worked quickly to pull Abby’s curls from her face, winding a knot of braids along the back of her head, the rest curling down her back to her waist. It would be hours of riding, but also hours of being seen by the people who looked to Harrenhal, who looked to her family, as their liege lords. Merei pulled a delicate net of silver dotted with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds and pinned it around Desma’s delicate knotwork.

With her mother’s carnelian necklace around her throat, Abby shoved her feet into her riding boots and grabbed a last chunk of bread and ham before ducking out of the tent as her ladies oversaw the packing of her things.

The sea of black and red tents felt like a field of Targaryen poppies as she made her way through the camp. The ground was not as muddy as Merei complained, but Abby was nonetheless grateful for her sturdy boots. Already the grass was churning into a muddy mess in various places and she carefully stepped around them. Servants paused to offer quick bows and curtsies, which Abby felt awkward about. They did not need to pause in their duties to acknowledge her, but at the same time, it was strangely satisfying to be recognized, to be deferred to in some small way.

Abby was not sure how to feel about it, so she pushed the confusing feelings away and shoved the rest of her bread in her mouth.

She found Aegon where the horses were stabled, tethered to temporary posts and being fed their morning grain. The morning light turned Aegon’s curls a soft gold, his gray linen shirt tucked into a pair of high waisted, black riding pants, stripes of red embroidered with gold scales down the sides into a pair of tall, shiny black boots. He was without his own surcoat and she knew that it was just as ostentatious as her own heraldic gown: black and red and scaled as was the Targaryen way. She licked butter from her thumb as she approached, gaze raking over him appreciatively and the opened neck of his shirt, teasing the lightly freckled skin that she longed to kiss.

Kostōba was as brilliant as ever, pawing happily at the ground and rooting his nose against Aegon, clearly looking for more treats. His cream colored coat shone as golden as his master’s hair in the sun, brilliant against the caparison of red and black taffeta for House Targaryen. Aegon was busy stroking the snout of another horse, focused on checking the buckles of the halter and bit. The mare was a brilliant chestnut, so red that it matched her hair, it’s mane only a scant few shades darker. It pawed the ground beside Kostōba, nickering and also looking for treats.

“What’s this?”

Aegon turned, eyes wide as if he’d been caught, a sleepy smile on his face. She was no longer mad at him, of course, but the forced distance over their travels was frustrating, in addition to the misery of frequently having to sleep outdoors, no matter how comfortable the tents were. It made tempers shorter, and the stress of everything that was to come was fraying at her.

Aegon closed the distance between them, cupping her face in his hands, and the touch immediately had her shoulders relaxing and she sighed as he kissed her. Chastely, but it was Aegon and his teeth snuck in a quick nibble before he pulled back. She did her best to hide her pout, tasting the wine he’d had that morning on her mouth. Abby licked her lips, blushing at the look he gave her.

“Happy nameday!” he declared, gesturing to the mare. Abby blinked at him, owlish and momentarily confused.

“Nameday?” What day was it? Time had become an endless blur of bumpy roads and the creaking wheelhouse. He raised an eyebrow at her, taking her chin in hand and tilting her head to look up at him.

“It’s your nameday,” he repeated slowly as if she hadn’t heard him the first time.

Oh! It was, wasn’t it? She sputtered softly and he chuckled, pressing another brief kiss to her parted mouth.

“Happy nameday,” he repeated more slowly this time, snickering at her lapse of memory and dropping her chin to caress her shoulder and turn her towards the mare. “She’s from the same stock as Kostōba. Six years old and well trained. She’ll be gentle with you and give a hoof to the face of any who should try to pull you from her.” His grin brightened as he went on, lilac eyes crinkled in excitement as he glanced back at her. Abby could see the hope in Aegon’s face, the nerves and question of if he’d done well with the gift.

Kostōba snorted at Aegon’s shoulder, nudging at him more insistently. Aegon huffed and pulled another piece of carrot from the pocket of his black riding coat. Abby reached up to gently stroke the velvet soft nose of the mare and took the second carrot that Aegon offered. She eagerly took it with greedy teeth, and Abby giggled as the velvet nose tickled her palm.

“She’s beautiful,” Abby said, giddiness bubbling through her belly, swooping at the thoughtfulness of the gesture, and surprise at how exciting it was to be given a horse of her very own. “And she won’t buck me off?”

“Well you’ve proven to be a good rider already, on dragonback no less, though it’s different with a horse, obviously. And I think as long as you keep petting her and speaking to her sweetly as you do, provide plenty of carrots, maybe even some apples? Oh, I think you’ll be just fine.”

Abby scoffed, but her smile was bright. “Endless supply of carrots and apples and oats. Understood, my prince. I will endeavor to bond her to me.” The mare huffed softly as Kostōba’s head came near hers to bump it.

“They look good together, don’t they?” Aegon asked softly, casually.

“They do,” Abby agreed with a soft laugh. “She matches my hair.”

“Exactly. That’s why I picked her.”

“And your horse matches your hair.”

Aegon shrugged, cheeks flushed pink as he scratched around his stallion’s nose. “I have good taste. Do you like her?” There was a furrow now between his brows as he pointedly asked her, her words not doing enough to convey her thanks. It was a guileless thing - Aegon wasn’t trying to tease a deeper showing of affection from her in his usual, playful way. Abby handed him her gathered skirts and he took them, confused, and she reached up to cup his face with both hands, his skin warm against her perpetually chilled fingers.

“I love this gift, Aegon. No one else has wished me happy nameday, but you did, and provided me a thoughtful gift that I love very much,” she reassured him, teeth catching on her lower lip as the words visibly washed over him. She could feel the tension vibrating through him, as if he couldn’t quite believe she enjoyed the gift, or was waiting for something to drop, or a dozen other things. She felt him shudder and relax into her and Abby hummed, thumbs stroking along the apples of his cheeks. The furrow eased, the tension in his shoulders relaxed, his gaze grew softer as he turned his head slightly to nuzzle against her touch. Her belly was warm, fingers toying with the softness of his silver hair, affection surging through her. Abby pressed up on her toes to press a soft, innocent peck to his plush mouth. “I love you, Aegon.”

“I love you,” he whispered shyly as his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. Satisfaction and ease seemed to fill him as she pulled away and took her skirts back from his hold. He cleared his throat, tossing his hair back from his face and reached up to stroke the little white star on the mare’s forehead. “Now we can go riding together - properly have a good race.”

“You want to race? Well then, we’ll have to come up with some good wagers then, won’t we?” The prospect excited her, the planning for things they’d do once the wedding was over and they could just get on with the rest of their lives; away from the Red Keep, away from the politics and the eyes that constantly watched them, away from everything that chased them in waking and in sleep.

Another bright call sounded above them and they both looked up to see Sunfyre circling, his chirps and clicks echoing down to them. The mare snorted and backed away, shaking her head at the closeness of the predator. Two of the stableboys came hurrying over to help calm her. Abby backed away, not wanting to be too close should she rear up, feeling foolish that she was unable to calm her horse, let alone understand how.

“He missed you,” she said, and Aegon laughed, bright and happy as he always was when it came to his golden boy.

“He’s a smart one, isn’t he?” Aegon grinned. “I was…” He trailed off, uncertain, and Abby pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“He would not abandon you. That menace broke out of the dragon pit to get to you, remember?” Not that Sunfyre had caused any damage outside of freeing himself from his chains, and would not return until Aegon had gone to retrieve him before they were dragged back to the Red Keep all those months ago.

“He would most certainly not.” Confidence returned to Aegon’s voice and he cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting words of Valyrian and gesturing north.

Abby’s gaze drifted from the sight to look out past the horses to the rolling moors past them. The mist still hung heavy along the ground, slowly burning away as the morning grew, lending a murky sight of the forest that obscured the sight of the God’s Eye.

A twisting sensation spooled through her chest as she watched the trees. There were oaks abundant along the road, and as they drew north, there were pines dotting the landscape as well. But the great, dark forest beside them was different. The oaks here were giant things. Once, as a little girl, she’d ridden out with Harwin into the Red Wood. There were a few red oaks in the Harrenhal godswood - massive things that shot past the great height of the walls. Here in the forest surrounded by them, it felt like another world. The trunks of the trees were as big as the family dining hall in the Kingspyre. Uncle Simon said that the great round table had been cut from such a trunk.

Ancient trees that had survived the great heart wound of Harren the Black. Spirits lived in the weirwoods; she remembered those stories, and the ancient sentinels remembered too. They were here long before and would be there long after -

“Hey!”

Strong, warm hands gripped her arms and shook her. Abby blinked slowly, feeling tired and confused. Aegon was looking down at her; face pale, confused, annoyed. “What’s gotten into you? I was calling for you, Abby.”

“But…” As she meant to say she had not moved, Abby realized that she could not hear nor smell the horses, and that the sounds of camp were softer than they had been before.

“You kept walking and I thought you were going to show me something but then you stopped speaking,” Aegon went on, but his voice sounded odd - strangely muffled and then clear. She reached for him but her hand missed his arm and he reached for it, tugging her to him. “Abby, you’re freezing.”

She was always freezing.

The crowd was deafening and the drum beats of the parade only added to the din. The chestnut mare, now named Stranger, trotted smoothly beside Aegon’s stallion as the royal procession made its way through Harrentown. The scouts and messengers had not lied.

The crowd was large, not only the townsfolk but filled with those who had traveled far and wide to witness the festivities and hawk their wares. As they approached her family’s castle, the fields field with colored tents sporting the banners of the noble houses that had made their way to the God’s Eye.

Harrenton was not an exceptionally large town although little was when compared to King’s Landing. It was a trading post, a crossroads at the mouth of the Riverlands. Trade and travel that came south from Darry would stop here, as well as the trade from the south at the capital. The buildings were white stucco and plaster with the red oak timbers from the Red Wood, tiered three stories tall with steeply pitched, clay shingled roofs. Many of the ground floors were made from red bricks. Mud was in abundance here, and pottery and bricks were their foundations of trade.

Abby tilted her head up to the banners hung across the thoroughfare, the tri color streamers of House Strong interspersed with the black and red ribbons of House Targaryen. Those who could not find space along the red brick road hung out from the leaded windows, waving flags and banners, throwing out handfuls of flower petals from the winter flowers in swirling dances of pinks and purples, whites and yellows. Young children on their parents shoulders, too disinterested in whatever people were on display, giggled and reached to try to catch the petals. The people yelled for House Strong, they yelled for the name of her father, they yelled…

They yelled her name.

‘Lady Abrogail! Lady Strong! Princess Abrogail!’

Her cheeks flamed, her grin both shy and beaming, unused to the attention being paid to her. Abby glanced over at Aegon, who preened beneath his own attention, the petals that were thrown about the air catching in his silver curls.

‘Prince Aegon! House Targaryen! Lady Abrogail! House Strong!’

His lilac gaze found her, his grin broadening, all teeth and bright eyes, dimples creased in his cheeks. The breeze caught in her curls, fluttering the delicate silver veil around her face. The flower petals drifted and swirled between them, caught in his hair, in the silver and red manes of their horses, and everything felt like a dream.

Now they left the main thoroughfare and made their way up the switchback to where the castle loomed, and as they made the turn, the world dropped out as the vast, glittering expanse of the God’s Eye filled the horizon. Abby’s breath caught in her throat and beside her, Aegon audibly exhaled, momentarily halting his horse beside her to take a look. Behind them, Abby could hear Daeron’s exclamation of wonder.

The God’s Eye ate the entire horizon, glittering like an aquamarine gem beneath the cloudless blue of the sky. The only thing that interrupted the site was the distant, hazy sight of the Isle of Faces, obscured by the haze and distance.

“It’s bigger than the Whispering Sound,” Daeron breathed. “Uncle Gwayne-”

“Aye,” the elder sounded just as surprised, just as awed. “Large enough for the eye of a god, isn’t it?”

Seagulls called along with other birds along the banks and Abby could just make out a few fishing boats tiny on the water. She rose up in her saddle to take a better look, vowing that she would never tire of the spectacular sight.

“I didn’t realize how I missed this sight.” She laughed, unsure if she might cry from grief or joy.

“It’s the color of your eyes,” Aegon said softly, his gaze firmly affixed to the sight before them. He wasn’t even looking at her, just caught in wonder. It was a new expression for Aegon, and Abby was loath to draw him from it. She reached over and he must have seen her, or maybe he’d been reaching for her hand at the same time. “It’s endless, like the sky.”

He squeezed her hand and with a gentle command, their party continued.

Harrenhal was a scar against the landscape, the black stone stark against the green and blue of the landscape. With towers shooting up higher than the tallest of Maegor’s Holdfast, Harrenhal loomed as its maker always intended: Ominous and impossible to ignore. The twisted, melted stone that capped the towers were vicious reminders of the violence in the past, but life bloomed amidst the ruins. Sentinels and oaks, vibrant and lush, shot past the tops of the stone walls from the large godswood that butted up against the shore. Harrenhal held a small household guard and several called out from the gatehouse.

Making the final turn, their party was greeted by the half shattered statue of Harren the Black, only his legs and rearing mount left above the bridge. It started with stone and then switched to thick ironwood that spanned the dry moat beneath, and, as if to welcome them home, Sunfyre of all things perched above the gates like an enormous, golden hawk, calling out and declaring that this was now his domain. Stranger whickered nervously, hesitating in approach until Abby urged her on with a gentle hand against her neck.

“Seven hells,” Aegon muttered, barely caught over the sounds of the hooves on the wooden bridge and the creaking of the carriages behind them. Whatever else Aegon said was drowned out beneath the sound of Sunfyre’s trilling. The golden dragon was singing and it was a haunting tune that echoed along the stone like water over river rocks. The sound of it sent dozens, maybe even a hundred or more, bats bursting from the ruined tops of the tower. Distracted by the creatures that took to the sky, he pushed off the gatehouse, the horses rearing as stone debris fell in their path.

Abby looked at Aegon, eyebrows raised. “He can’t keep doing that.”

He frowned, half-offended and mildly concerned. “It’s not his fault the stone is crumbling,” he said, but the defense was half-hearted as he eyed the broken stone being pushed out of the way.

Aemond and Daeron, Ser Gwayne and a few of the Kingsguard followed them, the guards taking a station at the gate until the king passed through. The rest of the party in their wheelhouses were held back until the stone was removed.

The gatehouse was a great thing cut through the thick, black curtain walls. The way was lit with torches, the echo of the horses’ hoof beats giving an uncertain cacophony as the sound bounced around the tunnel. Abby’s gaze drifted up, the ceiling of the tunnel shadowed but she remembered Larys telling her the frightening tale of the dozen murder holes where they would drop oil and poisonous spiders and venomous snakes down onto those who tried to breach the castle. She’d had nightmares for weeks.

Aegon said nothing beside her, and the look on his face was one of bewildered interest. She bit her lip, a smile playing. He had only ever known King’s Landing, after all.

Tears pricked her eyes as the strange longing sensation that had harbored for so long in her chest eased. It didn’t go away, but she could feel the hooked edges of yearning, the grief, the feeling that she did not belong, that something was missing, smoothing out into something bittersweet. Beyond the great walls of the castle, Harrenhal was full of life. Beneath the great shadow of the ruined towers, a reclaiming had taken place over the years, and the notion soothed that bramble within her.

As the party passed through the gatehouse into the outer bailey, Abby’s eyes darted over the crowd that had begun to gather. Over the years, some of the ruins had been dismantled and turned into proper staff quarters. A new granary, the stables,meant to house a thousand horses, had partially been converted to a barn. Before them, the Hall of a Hundred Hearths loomed, rebuilt through the reclaiming of the ruined Tower of Ghosts, now only a few stories tall.

The focal point of the hall was the ornate, stained glass window above the colossal entrance. Along the top half of the circle, a weirwood tree was carefully placed, the red leaves a border around the top, the cream colored branches reaching wide, and the sun behind it sported the tri-color stripes of her family’s sigil. Below the roots was a mound with seven circles - each portraying the sigil of each aspect of the Seven.

The Andals had spread their faith when they had conquered, but here in the halls of her family’s seat, and through the Riverlands, folk noble and small alike found a faith made their own - to mourn the loss of the weirwoods in their subjugation, and the comfort found in faces old and new alike. Especially here, on the shores of the God’s Eye, where the last of the southron weirwoods still thrived, where whispers and tales of the Children of the Forest outside the North clung like moss to the stilts of the houses along the riverbanks.

Fluttering fabric caught her eye and Abby looked up to see the banners of their house strung between the towers, interspersed every two with the black and red House Targaryen, and every ten with the blue and red fish of House Tully, their immediate overlords. In the front of the hall, where the crowd was thickest, the short, white hair and broad frame of Uncle Simon stood out; he was clad in a rich, black coat, Aunt Mya beside him, her dark curls thickly streaked with silver, her gown red. Her cousins were there too; Garret, with his strawberry blonde curls, not much older than herself, holding his three-year-old daughter, Gwenys, just as ruddy gold as her papa. His father, Ser Edric, leaned heavily on a cane on the other side of Uncle Simon. As she went down the line, she caught sight of Wylla, clad in Abby’s colors in a gown of deep blue with a sash of green and red, beaming brightly beside Alyn Hull, who looked dashing in a jerkin of deep, blood red and black pants tucked into shiny, polished boots.

“Welcome to Harrenhal, Your Grace,” Uncle Simon greeted Aegon before his warm gaze found hers. “Welcome home, Lady Abrogail.” The title address to her felt odd, but this was a formal occasion. Two stableboys glad in House Strong livery reached for the bridles of the horses, Aegon dismounting easily as Abby frowned in slight annoyance at the yards of fabric of her surcoat. She’d shifted to side-saddle before they’d entered the town in preparation for an easier dismount but it was still daunting.

“Allow me, my lady.” Alyn was there, grinning at her, his green eyes soft and Abby returned his bright expression with a relieved one of her own.

“Thank you, Mister Hull,” she said, grateful, and let Alyn help her from the horse and set her safely on the ground. She caught Aegon’s brief annoyance at being denied his gallant moment and she patted Alyn on the shoulder. “We have some things your mother and a Miss Bri had sent up to the castle.” Alyn’s friendly expression moved to a grateful surprise, and she could see the red coloring his tanned cheeks.

“And I thank you, my lady. I am most appreciative.” Abby felt a giddiness at making a good impression with Aegon’s friend, and she left Alyn to embrace her great-aunt and uncle, uncaring if it was improper. This was her family, and even though she’d only seen a few of them not long ago, this was different.

This was a homecoming.

The warmth of her Uncle’s hug made her chest ache further, and Abby tucked her head beneath his chin, squeezing him tightly, eyes shut and for a moment, allowed herself to pretend that there was no pomp and circumstance and that it was her father who embraced her. Uncle Simon would never replace him, but he reminded her so much of him that she would not feel guilty for clinging to the memory. He seemed to understand, for she felt him squeeze her extra hard before releasing her with a paternal kiss to her forehead and then allowed Aunt Mya, who exclaimed, “A chroí! Tá cuma álainn ort,” before she was wrapped in a cloud of softness and the smell of lilies from her aunt’s perfume. Her hands, shaking slightly with her arthritis, carefully touched the veil she wore and the carnelian necklace around her throat. “You’ve got that Westerland poise to you,” she observed, and though the words might have been taken as a slight, there was a fondness there. “Like your mother and that Lefford blood, but oh, you’ve got the wild river in you, don’t you.” Her hands gently cupped her face, and Aunt Mya’s dark eyes shone with tears. “They haven’t taken that from you. Good.”

“It’s good to finally be home,” Abby said, her voice thick with emotion. Joy, sadness, grief, relief, and a swirl of other things she could not identify. She cleared her throat, turning in her Aunt’s embrace to gesture to Aemond, Daeron, and Gwayne who had dismounted. “May I present Prince Aemond and Prince Daeron, as well as the queen’s brother, Ser Gwayne.”

“Ser Simon,” Gwayne said, sketching a bow. “I hope you do not mind my squire and I joining the household.” His grin was bright and disarming, his hand coming to clasp Daeron’s shoulder. “My sister hopes for us to keep an eye on my nephew, but I think it will be a good opportunity for my squire to also learn from a renowned knight such as yourself, Ser.” Abby bit her lip to hold in her laugh, appreciating the look of surprise and pride on her uncle’s face. “And Lady Mya, these are for you.” He produced from his green leather riding jacket a carefully wrapped package. “Your lovely niece shared with me how you once loved lacemaking. While this could not compare what you’ve made, I do hope you find use for this.”

“From the lacemaker who made my wedding dress,” Abby chimed in as her blushing aunt took the carefully wrapped package of lace. Aunt Mya’s features shifted into amusement.

“Oh, I like this one, Simon. You can sit by me at dinner, Ser Gwayne.” Uncle Simon rolled his eyes while Daeron stepped forward, sending a look at his uncle.

“And I brought this for Lady Gwenys,” Daeron said, not to be outdone by Gwayne’s flirtation. He produced a doll from his own coat, made from soft linen with carefully made brown yarn hair, and painted blue eyes with a felt crown on her head.

“Thank you very much, my prince,” Garret said, shifting Gwenys in his arms. “Can you say thank you to Prince Daeron?” Gwenys’ eyes were large in her face, gnawing shyly on her lip as she snuggled into her father, unsure of what to make of all the strange people. Daeron held the doll up higher, taking the little hand to wave at the child.

“Hello, Lady Gwenys,” Daeron said in a silly voice, blonde hair falling into his blue eyes, his own cheeks pink at all the attention. “Will you be my new friend?”

That drew the little girl out of her shyness, bubbling with giggles and reached for the toy with grabby little fingers. “Fank you!” she shouted, squealing as she clutched at the toy. Abby felt Aegon at her back and shivered as he leaned down to brush his lips against her ear.

“Was I meant to bring a gift?” he asked, his whisper harsh with anxiety. Abby pressed her lips firmly together to hold back her giggle and turned into his hold, a kiss brushed to his cheek.

“You’re fine. There’s plenty of time. I think it’ll have more meaning after the wedding.”

Abby’s gaze briefly took in the arrival of the carriages that held the king and queen, and the small council absent Ser Tyland. He’d left court with her grandfather to Castamere where his wife, Elayna, was ready to give birth to their children. Twins had been born, according to the raven that Abby had received from her cousin, and Elayna was sorry she could not bring them, but it would be nice to see her. Lady Elayna preferred the freedom of Castamere, and Abby could not blame her, not when being here among the half ruin of Harrenhal had revitalized her in a way she could not describe.

The crowd all lowered themselves in deference as the king was helped from the wheelhouse. Travelling had been difficult for him, and the progress had taken as much time as it could in order to keep him comfortable. He clutched his cane, squinting in the afternoon sun, the light catching upon his golden crown. The expression on his pale, mottled face was difficult for Abby to read, and she wondered if he was thinking about the last time he was here, when the lords of the realm declared him king over Princess Rhaenys and her son.

Larys appeared from the next carriage with Lord Jasper Wylde and the Grand Maester, a placid smile on his own features. “Uncle, you’ve outdone yourself,” he complimented. Abby noticed then that her uncle’s smile tightened, no longer meeting his eyes as he regarded Larys.

“It has been some time since our house has something so wonderful to celebrate. Not since Abrogail’s birth, I think. After so much tragedy, these halls benefit from the festivities.”

“We are looking forward to them, Ser Simon,” the queen smiled, her hand fluttering to the king’s arm. “It has been a long journey, and the king needs rest and recuperation. We shall reconvene for supper?” It was not a request. Alicent Hightower could command with a smile, and all the authority afforded to her as the mother of the realm.

“Of course, your graces,” Aunt Mya said with a smile. She clapped her hands and there was a flurry of activity, the king’s wheeled chair being brought out while Uncle Simon explained they had easily accessible rooms for the king so his time here would be comfortable.

Then there was a flurry of raven hair and blue wool as Wylla’s decorum barely kept her from completely barrelling into Abby and she clutched her friend, embracing her tightly and burying her face into her shoulder. She smelled of cinnamon and spice, familiar and comforting.

“Oh, I’ve missed you,” she cried, Wylla giving her a tight squeeze.

“I’ve missed you too! You look beautiful.” Abby pulled back and Wylla pinched her chin with a playful look on her fox features, the little scar along her mouth pulling at the smile on her face. She pushed her hand away with a shake of her head, hooking their arms together.

“As do you! Is this a new dress?” Wylla hummed in the affirmative and led the way across the tightly packed gravel. Aegon and Alyn fell in behind them, and behind them, the rest of her ladies followed. The king and queen and the rest of their immediate party were being led into the closest tower - what was ominously referred to as the Tower of Dread.

It was where Athair and Harwin had died.

As she watched the king and queen enter the tower, something ugly curled in her chest. ‘Good’, she thought savagely, though altogether unlike her. She hoped the ghosts that slept there would haunt them. The queen would not treat her so unkindly if her father were still here. The king? Well, he deserved a good haunting. Let the ghost of Lord Maegor Towers terrorize him during his stay.

The main hall at the foot of the Kingspyre Tower was a bustle of activity. Servants in the House Strong livery hurried to and fro from the small kitchens beneath the tower, sending out refreshment to the new arrivals.

“As soon as we had word of your arrival, I had a bath readied,” Wylla said. “There’s the bathhouses, of course, but I thought you’d like some private time.”

“That does sound nice,” she sighed, heading up the staircase. The next floor above the hall held the galleries and the library. Precious things that her father had loved, and his father before him.

‘What if fire seeks to claim me here? As it had them?’

The fear was ugly and painful and squeezed the breath from her lungs with its sudden onset. Wylla’s voice was muffled in her ears as she stood frozen in the stairwell.

“In the black of night, the dragon did rise.”

“What?” she choked out, turning to look through the open doors of the gallery. It was not Wylla’s voice. Abby could not even be sure it was a woman’s voice. She tugged away from Wylla’s hold to the open archway but a firm grip on her arm tugged her back. Aegon stroked her cheek, drawing her attention back to him. Abby’s cheeks colored. “I heard… I thought…”

“It’s just the wind,” he told her.

“Unfamiliar sounds,” Wylla chimed in, coming to her other side, although her eyes narrowed at her friend’s discomfort. “Come, we’ll get you settled into the bath and you can lay down. A lazy lie in.”

Abby nodded, mouth shut as everyone stared at her with worry and confusion. Catching the brief look Wylla and Aegon exchanged, Abby tugged away. She felt judged, as she had felt that morning when Aegon had shaken her out of whatever haze had taken hold of her. It was one thing to have such a lapse in front of him, but now here she was in front of their household, so many eyes on her, confused and curious. Gathering her heavy skirts in her arms, she soldiered forward, desperate to get out of her gown. If she could, she would have stripped from the surcoat in the stairway itself, but she would have gotten tangled in the fabric and likely tumbled down the stairs.

What an auspicious start to the festivities; a tragic bride felled by a broken neck.

She ignored the call of her name behind her, climbing past Uncle Simon’s apartments and office to the landing of what had once been her mother’s rooms. They were rooms that might have belonged to Rhaenyra Targaryen in another life, or Sabitha Frey or Alysanne Blackwood, or any dozens of young women in the Riverlands her brother could have taken to wife.

None of this should be hers. This castle, these lands, were not her birthright.

They were drenched in ash and screams and the knowledge of this was grasping her tighter with every step she took before she burst through the doors of her apartments. Afternoon light streaked through the large doors that opened out onto the multilevel balcony that went from her rooms up to Aegon’s chambers. Beyond would be the beautiful sight of the God’s Eye, but for now, it was the brilliant blue sky and the roses that crept along the stone and woodwork. Low couches littered the space, plush rugs faded with age, and before the fireplace and its merry flame, was the large tub draped in linens and ready and waiting.

The shadows beside the fireplace moved and Abby stilled, fear freezing her limbs until the face of the shadow appeared. The woman was older, older than the queen, mayhaps, with inky black hair that hung to her waist, a square face and storm gray eyes. In her hands, she held a woven circle of twigs, and Abby looked at the stick figure coming to shape in the center of it.

“Lady Abrogail,” she greeted, her accent like Wylla’s, like her Aunt Mya’s. “Did you leave the rest of your chattering ducklings behind?”

Buzzing filled her ears and Abby pressed her hands to her chest, fingers knotting into the fabric. “I… I… I can’t breathe.”

“If you could not breathe, you could not speak,” the woman pointed out, discarding her wood weaving on the chair. She closed the distance and grabbed Abby’s hands. “You speak, therefore you breathe. I hear your gasping. So keep doing that.”

Hands joined the woman’s to help her out of the surcoat and work the laces on her kirtle. Her vision was dark and hazy around the edges and she continued to heave and gulp for air. She swooned and arms caught her.

“What did she say, Alys?” she heard Wylla ask.

“A tincture from my chest,” was the answer. “The one in the blue bottle. And the smelling salts.” Alys River tsked and her face shimmered before her as she backed Abby to the low couch. “If we shove you in that bath now, you’ll faint and are liable to drown. A bride felled by her bathwater. What a tragic end.”

Abby blinked, her mouth dry. “What did you…”

“Alys likes to be cryptic,” Wylla’s voice drifted to her through the buzzing in her ears. She let herself be shuffled around and moved as if she were no more than a ragdoll onto the chaise, her legs propped up higher than her head on a pile of cushions. Time passed in a haze as the dizziness and the rushing passed. Alys sat on the couch beside her, holding a goblet to her mouth and Abby grimaced at the strangely sweet and medicinal taste of the thin, red liquid. Her limbs tingled and the drunken feeling gave way to a more relaxed sensation. Alys’ large, slate-gray eyes filled her vision and the elder woman tilted her head, appraising her.

“I cannot call you Little Lady anymore, can I?” she asked, but Abby didn’t think it was much of a question. “Although, you are still littler than me, wee beast.”

“Oh, so she calls you that as well?” Wylla’s voice drifted from somewhere behind the couch. “Do you feel like you can get in the bath now?”

Alys helped her up and held the goblet to her mouth once more, feeding her the strange liquid. “Someone should tell the princeling that his lady is all right, I can hear him pacing.”

“Hear him?” Sarra Frey’s voice chimed in, confused. Abby smiled wanly at Wylla as the elder girl helped her out of her chemise and into the tub. The water was still plenty warm, but not the scalding, steaming heat that it had been from when she first came into the room. “But he’s so far away.”

“You’re just not listening close enough,” Alys said and passed her the goblet. “Make sure the coinín beag drinks all of this.” The door shut behind the woman and Abby settled against the back of the tub, Wylla’ pinning her hair up.

“Doesn’t Aegon call you little rabbit as well?” she murmured against her ear.

Abby did not answer.

The confused look the servant gave Jace when he asked where the family crypts were was not something that would normally bother him, but there was no reason that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon should be asking where the family crypts of his host were.

The look in Ser Simon Strong and his wife’s eyes upon seeing him still stuck with Jace, and he tried not to keep looking over his shoulder as he strode down the gravel pathway through the family gardens. Torches were lit along the pathway, servants and guests still milling about, and the gardens were beginning to bloom as the seasons shifted. Lady Celeste’s mountain roses crept like a great, dark beast, along the outside of the Kingspyre tower, up to balconies above. Jace stole a glance up there, at the distant, flickering light behind the windows.

Abby should be here. She should be with him. This was more her family than his. Did he even have a right?

Jace straightened.

He did. He did have a right. Ser Harwin was someone in his life he cared for, who cared for him and his brothers. He had been gentle and kind - to them, to their mother.

Ser Simon looked at him as if he’d seen a ghost.

Goosebumps bloomed beneath Jace’s black tunic. Perhaps he was one.

The Sepulcher of House Strong was largely underground, but the entrance to it was a stone gazebo, just over a story tall, with seven stone pillars carved to mimic the twisting boughs of the weirwood trees. The branches held up the circular roof, the torchlight casting long shadows over the carvings of strange creatures. There was no door, simply smooth stone stairs leading into the torch lit crypts beneath.

At the foot of the stairs were a pair of doors, heavy ironwood etched with more of the weirwood motifs and little creatures that Jace realized from this close distance were meant to be the Children of the Forest. They were different from the drawings he’d seen in his books. These were spindly things, some with fins in place of ears, with large eyes and sharp little teeth. He reached to undo the latch but the door was partially ajar. Had Abrogail come down to pay her respects? Should he leave and return another day?

His mother would be here on the morrow, and as soon as Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen set foot in this place, Jace’s chance to come here would be lost.

The door made no sound as he pushed it open to slip inside and he blinked as his eyes tried to adjust to the deeper gloom. Braziers affixed to the pillars were spaced out every few dozen feet or so and as he quietly walked the path his ears could just make out the distant sound of rushing water, though he had no idea where it was coming from. Stone tombs were erected every few archways, and he paused in front of the tomb of Maegor Towers before he caught sight of the dragon relief nearby.

Targaryens were not entombed, they were burned on pyres, back to flame and ash from whence they came. But Harrenhal’s last lady was honored here.

In the stone alcove, a beautiful carved relief of Dreamfyre stood, raised on her legs, wings spread and her neck arched to call out to the sky. At her feet was a pedestal with an urn in the shape of a dragon egg.

Rhaena Targaryen, Queen of the Rising and Setting Sun. Mother of her beloved Aerea and Rhaella. Beloved by Prince Aegon, where their souls meet once more.

To always Chase the Sun.

The crack of a cane hitting the stone echoed violently along the walls and Jace choked on dusty air, panic taking over. The next tomb was that of Lord Osmund. There was just enough room to duck behind it and Jace crouched behind, his heart pounding in his ears.

“You are kind to accompany this night, Your Grace. I confess, when I extended the invitation, I was not sure you would accept.” The low voice of Lord Larys drifted through the quiet ghosts, otherworldly beneath the earth himself. Your grace… was grandfather also down here?

“Lord Lyonel was a good man,” the king rasped, his voice shaky with emotion. “The best of us, I think. No better servant to the realm than he.”

“Surely you yourself are the realm’s greatest servant, my king.”

“Mmmm, Lyonel offered good counsel. I did not listen to him as much as I should have.”

“My father served the realm with all the wise counsel of a Grand Maester and the knowledge of one of your vassals, my king. In the end, however… Even beneath his great wisdom, matters of succession were well out of hand.”

Heat burned along Jace’s neck and rushed into his cheeks. He pressed his face against the cold, stone tomb but it did little to calm him.

Driftmark. It always came back to Driftmark. It came back to screaming and blood. It came back to his words. Yes, the words of a child, but his words that he knew, without question, would prevent punishment.

‘He called us bastards.’

With such a simple sentence, Jace watched, clutched in his mother’s arms, as the king’s ire went from Aemond’s wound to the accusations that had chased Jace and his siblings all their lives. Words that he knew were cruel, that upset his mother, yet words that spoke true. Lord Lyonel had stood, struck and silent beside the Driftwood throne, and Ser Harwin had lingered by the door, unarmored and disheveled given the late hour it had been. As old as he was now, Jace knew. He knew. He knew.

Ser Simon had looked at him as if Jace were a ghost.

Jace reached up and gripped the edge of the tomb of his blood, feeling the burn of Vermax inside of him with every beat of his heart, loudly thumping in his ears.

“I did not want it to happen that way, Larys,” King Viserys finally spoke, his voice mournful and heavy.

“I know, my king. Only a Targaryen can truly master the dangers of flame. Mere mortals such as those who strove to follow your wishes could only wish to wield such understanding.” The sound of scraping metal grated on Jace’s nerves. He hit his head against the tomb and had to shove his fist in his mouth to keep from crying out.

“Only Ser Harwin-” the king began and then stopped. Jace could see the long throw of their shadows along the stone floor. They weren’t moving.

“Whatever tragedies befell, they have brought us here, my king. Have the wounds not healed as you had hoped? Your daughter and brother arrive here with their children after their long absence. Our houses will be joined in only a few days. The match you and my father discussed so many years ago is now far more advantageous, as is right, for the King’s first born son, given the unusual circumstances.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Lord Larys.” The scrape of two canes now. Jace pressed himself as far into the shadows as he could, straining to listen as the two men made their way back up the corridor beneath the eyes of the dead. He dared not breathe, he dared not make a single sound for fear of what might happen were he discovered. It felt like an eternity before the door shutting reverberated through the quiet.

Jace sat on the cold ground, frozen and still as Dreamfyre’s statue. His heart continued to pound in his ears as he tried to process exactly what he had just heard. King Viserys, a peaceful man, so afraid of any confrontation that his mother fled to Dragonstone to hide than maintain her presence at court. She’d sent him to do it for her.

He couldn’t escape the catacombs fast enough. His feet slipped along the damp stone as he raced towards the entrance. Ser Harwin would forgive him, he was certain. Now? Now, he needed to get away as fast as possible. He tripped hard up the stone stairs, his left knee and shin screaming in agony before he made it up and forced himself to slow down so as not to attract attention. What would it say to see the king’s heir racing through the gardens of Harrenhal? Jace’s lungs ached and he kept trying to remember to breathe. All he knew was that he had to get away.

How could he hold this? Should he tell his mother? What would she do? Nothing. She’d do nothing, forbidding them - forbidding him from speaking of Ser Harwin. Did he tell Abby?

It would destroy her.

Should he - Jace slammed into a figure, sending the two of them sprawling to the gravel.

“What the fuck, Jace!” Aegon snapped, aggressively shoving him off. He too was dressed for night in his own gray linen and breaches, dark circles beneath his eyes. It struck Jace, hard between his ribs, how much Aegon looked like Jace’s own mother in that moment. How much he sounded like his own mother. Jace’s palms scraped against the gravel and he heaved a breath. “What?” Aegon repeated.

Another breath and Jace felt the words strangling him, and could feel the tension in his face as he looked at his uncle, his childhood playmate, with wide, lavender eyes. Aegon stared at him and whatever annoyances were on his tongue fell. His brow furrowed. “What is it?” he asked again, less sharply this time.

Jace gulped once more for air and heard Aegon mutter something about panic attacks before the elder manhandled him up to his feet and towards one of the benches. “Get your head between your knees before you pass out,” he snapped, hand on his back to push him forward. In spite of Aegon’s annoyance, his touch was gentle, if firm.

Also like his mother.

“Breathe, you idiot,” Aegon said and sat down beside him, hand between his shoulder blades. Jace did as he was told, falling into the way things once were, where Aegon led and Jace happily followed. They could never return to those days, and Jace did not wish for it, but Seven Hells, it had been easier.

He did not know how long they sat there, listening to the lowing of dragon calls outside the walls and the shrieking of bats, the distant sound of water fowl amid the rushes outside the castle walls. He breathed in the cold air, let it ebb at the fire in his blood. He spat on the ground and finally sat up, aware that Aegon’s hand did not leave him until Jace settled against the bench.

“You said something but I couldn’t understand,” Aegon ventured with his brows raised in exaggerated curiosity. The quiet of the night filled the space between them, the gaps left when things had reached such a breaking point.

It always came back to Driftmark.

“The king…” Jace whispered, heat burning in his eyes. “T-the king, he… ordered the deaths of Lord Lyonel and… Ser Harwin.”

So... that was an ending. As always, I love that you're here, but the only way I know you're reading is if you comment! Comments let me know people are reading and are actively interested! So I'd love to hear what your favorite part of the chapter was, what your theories are, OR If you have no idea what to say, drop a tree emoji to let me know you were here <3 I promise, I'm glad you are. ALSO! I would LOVE to hear how you found this story! Was it through the AO3 search? Tumblr? Did someone recommend it? (if so, where?) (we might end at 24 chapters. I'm not quite sure yet, I'll have to see how the next few chapters go for pacing as I don't want to inundate y'all) Shoutout to @queen--kenobi for allowing me to borrow the lovely Elayna Reyne! Baby girl is here!

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Erixius Masterlist

New to Erixius? I suggest reading my one-shot "Carry You Home" as a good introduction to the ship if you aren't ready for a multichapter fic.

Multichapter Fics

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Summer Heat (E) - Elain x Lucien, Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

Complete, 18/18 chapters, 114,890 words Summary: Summer Court is hosting the Summer Solstice Summit and the Night Court is sending their best emissaries to attend. It will be Elain's first time mingling in another court, and it's a good thing she has an expert guiding her: the mate she's been ignoring for the last two years. Meanwhile, Eris has been sent to the summit to spy on Summer's developments. What he doesn't anticipate is entangling in a steamy, forbidden romance

Pull Me in Deeper (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

Complete, 23/23 chapters, ~115,000 words Summary: Needing more alliances, Eris strikes a deal with Helion: go to the continent and find out information for him, and Day Court will support him usurping Beron. What he didn’t account for is the beautiful Day Court emissary accompanying him that makes his heart race while being such a thorn in his side.

Autumn Leaves and Day Dreams (M) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

WIP, 3/? chapters, 2,500 words Summary: This is a collection of drabbles and short fics for Eris x Alexius, a male OC from Day Court I created in my fic Summer Heat which you can read for longer form Eris x Alexius content. These are mostly from prompts submitted via Tumblr. Each chapter is its own story and some may have follow-ups in the future.

Short Fics

Taste of You (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 2,200 words Summary: Eris and his mate Alexius are on a tour of Autumn. Alexius is feeling cooped up in the carriage and Eris has an idea of how to release some tension. PWP

Caress Me Down (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 2k words Summary: Alexius pulls his hamstring and Eris has the perfect remedy: a massage. PWP. For Eris Week 2024 Day 3: Healing | Betrayal.

The Jewel of The Forest House (T) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 5k words Summary: Eris’ mate Alexius brings home a stray dog to the Forest House that Eris is reluctant to accept. Jewel is feisty, impolite, and most importantly, nothing like his smokehounds. For Eris Week 2024 Day 4: Tradition | Hounds

Carry You Home (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 15k words Summary: During the Hybern battle, Eris is mortally wounded and ready to die. Until a knight in shining armor saves his life. He isn’t sure how to thank him, but he has all night to try. Takes place during ACOWAR. For Eris Week 2024 Day 5: War | Adventure.

Fanarts, Commissions, & Other

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 7 Summer Heat

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 12 Summer Heat

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 16 Summer Heat

Eris x Alexius commissioned fanart 🍂☀️ by @works-of-heart

Eris x Alexius PMID fanart by @thrumugnyr

Eris x Alexius blob fanart by @bonecarversbestie

Eris x Alexius commissioned end of PMID/Autumn Court fanart by @jennastokesart *banner art

Eris & Hounds fanart with TJOTFH inspo by @little-fierling

Free and unashamed: an Erixius playlist

Erixius at the beach commissioned fanart by @luciensdefenseattorney

Freddie Fox Eris fancast commissioned fanart by @evermorelore

OC Alexius fanart by @queercontrarian

Erixius Vampire AU fanart by @works-of-heart

OC Alexius Blob fanart by @bonecarversbestie

Erixius Stupid Ass Ship Chart

Erixius: Get To Know My OTP Chart

Eris Week 2024 Masterlist

Eris x Alexius Solstice fanart by @works-of-heart

Eris x Alexius Solstice/Holiday commissioned fanart with bonus unicorn painting by @jadedbugart

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

[k-martins]

I'm late, but what matters is posting the results, so hello!

Let's move on to placing them:

BIGGEST ITFS SUPPORTERS ON CANON!!!!!

RYOMEN "You finally got a role" SUKUNA

Also known as the one who is intimately aware of our couple's desires, desires and fears (after all, he shared a body with both of them), Sukuna is the main plot device when it comes to bringing Itafushi even closer together. It's thanks to your existence that ITFS started, isn't it? LOL.

He's a threat, he's a calamity, he's a bored old man, but most importantly, he's responsible for the line "congratulations, you've won a role" where he not only recognizes Yuji's new power, but also that our pookie pink haired girl is ready to save her sea urchin. After all, it's quite propitious for Yuji to save his soulmate in the domain called "pure and mutual love" LMAO!!!!

Fortunately, Sukuna comes in last place because he gave several traumas to ITFS, including murder, body snatching, mental and emotional manipulation, violence and a lot of anguish. He's a bad bitch we love to hate!

((I couldn't get any art from them that wasn't a ship T-T ))

3TH PLACE:

NOBARA "Boys are disgusting" KUGISAKI

It was a close battle with second place, but I confess that not even Nobara could compete against him T-T. Our beautiful queen full of thorns is the most common third wheel in the canon, being present in moments that helped in the growth of ITFS, such as their conversation after the exchange event (where we see Yuji blush and smile after Megumi praised him hihi) and when our boys take each other's hands as a sign of trust after the fight with Kechizu and Eso. She's also the queen who helps these two idiots notice their feelings in fanfics, so what better than third place for her!!!!

It's a shame we can't see her reaction when she hears the phrase "so start saving me, Itadori", but I bet she would scream something like "get a room, you two, gay idiots!".

Anyway, Nobara, know that you will always be famous and our boys will make you proud as they finish off Sukuna and ride off into the sunset T-T

2TH PLACE

YUTA "THIS IS PURE LOVE" OKKOTSU

Who but the main advocate of love to come second? Yuta has shown himself to be a huge supporter of itfs since his return to the post-Shibuya manga, from helping Yuji deal with his inner demons to agreeing to save him because he was someone important to Megumi (shoot me in the head if Megumi didn't ask Yuta save Yuji when he learned that his senpai would be the executioner).

He also had to watch from a box seat the dramatic ITFS meeting after the horrors in Shibuya, so he knows how serious Megumi and Yuji are about protecting each other. Yuta is also doing everything he can to make these two stay together, not taking long to jump against Sukuna to save Megumi and opening his beautiful domain of PURE AND MUTUAL LOVE!!!! Yes girls, Yuta is the last romantic on earth and he will be the key to our ITAFUSHI coming back to us T-T.

This boy is just not in first place, because first place belongs to him alone.

1st PLACE

SATORU "Personal feelings?" GOJO

THE HONORABLE!!!! MEGUMI'S FATHER!!! THE MOST ROMANTIC EVER!!!! SATORU GOJO TAKES FIRST PLACE!!!! He was the first to notice ITFS in the SECOND EPISODE and makes a point of always bringing these two boys even closer with his discreet (and some extravagant) plans. An example of this is his readiness to accept saving Yuji because it was a request from his dear son, going against the ENTIRE JUJUTSU WORLD just because he knows what it's like to love someone who is condemned to death (stsg tears run down my eyes).

He also placed the boys next to each other, supported their relationship, blessed them, and was willing to save his son so that none of them would suffer (someone shoot me).

YOUR FIRST PLACE IS DESERVED!!!! I'M SURE ITFS WILL BE THE HAPPY VERSION OF STSG AND WILL BE ABLE TO MAKE ITS SENSEI PROUD!!!!

Official results!

This is the end, but we'll give some honorable mentions.

- Toji Fushiguro (his VA said that Toji would find Yuji a bit annoying at first, but would soon like him too, which is understandable, since Yuji is fantastic)

- Choso (Anyone who loves Yuji will be loved by Choso)

- Nanami Kento (no explanation, I just feel it)

- Tsumiki Fushiguro (I don't need to see this to know your opinions)

- Grandpa Wasuke Itadori (HE WOULD LOVE MEGUMI, FIGHT ME IF YOU DON'T AGREE)

- Aoi Todo (He would always support Yuji, no matter how annoying his crush is)

- Gege Akutami (come on kitty, we all know you secretly love itfs and stsg and are cooking a beautiful and wonderful wedding for them, no need to be shy about it ;) )

[kayla-2]

Can you even list 10 things that makes you hype Elain so much?

I’m actually a feyre fan account so I don’t hype elain a lot but I don’t mind..I’ll try to be quick

1.) I need more soft characters. I need fantasy women who doesn’t want to grab a sword and can find strength outside of physical abilities. Acosf is like the 2nd book of training, we’ve seen enough..

2.) Her seer powers. I think it’s very cool and fitting for her and the conflicts that the world is still dealing with and can work amazingly with Azriel spying and the inner circle leadership and planning

3.) Sarah was talking about doing research into female spies from world war 2 and I would love to see elain and her friends Nuala and Cerridwen going out, and undercover. It can be witty and hilarious

4.) I love characters who proves people wrong. Especially with some of the misogynistic takes we’ve seen on her hobbies and ability to have children

5.) I’m a feyre stan before anything so any moments someone can give me with my feyre is important especially since I need to see them explore the continents together like they wanted to.

6.) I want to know her experiences with the cauldron. Going from changing your entire species to losing your love is insane. I need to know her healing

7.) Her gardening and all the metaphors. Like feyre/ painting and nesta/dancing.. Rhys said that gardening requires getting your hands dirty and elain has thorns and bruises.. I want to know why Sarah said that.

8.) For some reason I think elain is going to tackle a mental villain unlike her sisters. Something connected to her powers. A battle within herself.

9.) She killed HYBERN, used her seer powers with no training, and helps restore velaris. I love characters that are determined despite what happened to them

10.)  i’m ready to see all the relationships she developed.. She notices little things (feyre hesitance with money in acofas, Azriel headaches, Feyre pregnancy) if you know anything about introverts, they are good listeners and watchers which can makes them good friends and partners.

You don’t have to like elain at all. I can’t convince you and I don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean others aren’t excited and don’t have reasons. We like female characters outside of their ships over here🤣 anyway, that was fun

[hislittleraincloud]

dude can you just stop using the wenclair tag? like its annoying seeing these kind of posts. some of us are just here to see the fun dynamics, other’s interpretation, arts etc. and i get that you’re against it or whatever, so maybe like leave these tags alone? stop abusing the tags if you don’t like it

The last anon I just answered didn't even have the Wenclair tag even though the anon mentioned it. But thanks for reminding me to go back and remedy that. 🥹

Look, I get it, you don't read anything that goes against your little echo chamber, so you missed what I fucking said in the next to last one that WAS tagged Wenclair:

It's not my fault that you can't stand criticism of the novel or the ship within the constraints of the novel and fandom. I had never had a problem with any Wenclair fanon until y'all creamed yourselves over this novelization. I read it (slowly, for me, so I could catalog each instance of fuckery with canon in my brain that I could), and that is what I have a problem with.

I've always supported Wednesday and Enid the same way M&G support it, since accepting and building friendship was what Morticia had stated in the beginning in the limo she'd hoped for her daughter/what Wednesday had stated she was extremely resistant to throughout ("I like being an island...a well fortified one surrounded by sharks."). Seems like no one cares to comprehend how wild a jump from a strict antisocial loner who hates people to Spanish-spewing yandere "Willa" in the span of four weeks actually is, and that's how fanon can be*...only now Mejia's injected 100% fanon [see the defiling of "Woe What a Night" for the worst of it] into the canon that millions of people around the world saw and y'all are calling it canon (when it is not, despite being published through the studio). In my last real fandom I participated in there was a screenplay "tie up" in lieu of a fourth season published by Showtime and written by Neil Jordan himself that was roundly rejected by fans as canon because it was so out of character for our main characters from what we had seen for three seasons. Same goes for the Jack Thorne's Cursed Child nonsense in Potter (even Potter actors have called it fan fiction).

TLDR: It's not abusing a tag if the tag is relevant to the post's discussion. Grow some skin and learn how to deal ("cope" like you kids love to say) with reasonable criticisms.

[asexxxualerotica]

OC Muse List

~Dungeons & Dragons Muses~

Asterion Labrynthia: Minotaur prince in banishment from his kingdom. Quiet and gentle despite the great power and strength he wields. On a path of vengeance to avenge his killed parents.

Branwen Black: Ranger from the far north, raised and taught by an elite squad of mercenaries and huntsmen known as the Blackguard. Has a strangely innate connection to ravens and wolves.

Clover Brandyburke: Lagomore knight in service to a powerful archfey. On a quest to avenge his honor after his fiance left him on the altar. Serious and severe, and also naive to the mortal world.

Dariax Dendarrow: Goliath former bandit chief, abandoned after a disgraceful defeat to a young adventurer. Seeking to grow stronger to challenge the young adventurer again and defeat him.

The Devils of Emon: Based out of the Exandrian city of Emon, a band of adventurers named such for the surprisingly high number of tieflings in their crew.

Aquamarine: Tiefling rogue with ambitions to be the best thief in the region. Came to Emon and was immediately arrested for pickpocketing. Has an affinity for gems and trinkets.

Gamora Great-Bear: Orc warrior woman on a mission to find love, but just finding powerful monsters to defeat. Was similarly arrested, this time for exhibitionism, which she will do again.

Jeanne Ironwood: Woman driven by losses in her childhood to dragons. Trained by Percy DeRolo as an expert gunslinger and markswoman, and known for her cold and calculating demeanor.

Kyrie Targana: Tiefling performer who lost her arms to an abusive slaver. Was previously in a circus troupe with Omega and Thorne, and is now in a romantic relationship with Scourge.

Omega: Tiefling magician in a heated relationship with his succubus patron. Younger brother of Thorne. Definitely the most problem-attracting member of the crew.

Captain Scourge Maelstrom: Tiefling pirate captain and champion of the seas. Unofficial leader of the Devils, and the founding member. Captain of The Sea Devil, and tends to stay on his ship.

Thorne: Tiefling brawler known for getting drunk and getting into fights. Older brother of Omega. The most bristly member of the crew, often gets into fights with Jeanne late into the night.

Varris Alwyn: Tiefling warrior in loyal service to the Everlight. Seemingly ageless, and has a constant bet in the background by the rest of the Devils over whether he's really a dragon or an angel.

Verdant Wilde: Tiefling huntsman trained personally by Vex'ahlia DeRolo. Sent to Emon to keep an eye on things in Greystone Keep. Ended up forming a new adventuring crew alongside Jeanne.

Galatea the Golden-Scaled: Gladiatrix known for her gleaming golden battlekini. Left her life in the arena after repelling a raid on the city, seeing she could set out and do good elsewhere.

Jade Higurashi: Tiefling monk who was previously training to become a powerful sage for a local temple. After being thrown out, she turned to drinking and fighting to fill the gap they left.

Jaerik Aldraeyds: Changeling on a mission to find her true father in the Feywild. Unfortunately, her own naturally high libido and trend for falling to her enemy's lusts has delayed her quest incredibly.

Khadamori the Unbroken: Ulitharid warrior who was held in bondage by his own kin for most of his life. Eventually broke free and became a liberation leader, fighting to free slaves throughout the Underdark.

Korrin Vasailiis: Elven sorceress who made a deal with a demon to survive a horrible fate, and became a vampire in the process. Now on a quest to find new purpose, as her life is even longer than expected.

Lorelei Astolas: Tiefling lady of the night based out of Emon, a long-time rival and long-distance friend of the Ruby of the Sea. Known similarly as the Lady of Pearls for her pearlescent skintone.

Peregrine Weis: Tiefling warrior woman who was once a faithful weapon for a zealous church, but left when they murdered her wife. Now trying to make up for her loss, and find who she is without faith.

Riot Doomthighs: Goblin bard with a love for heavy metal music and a wild devotion to the death god Xyrnyxrys. Also known for wearing very suggestive (but still protective) armors during her performances.

Serena Clyffe: Former noble lady who fled her home after accidentally frying her would-be betrothed with lightning. Now on the run from the law, and experiencing the world for the first time. Absolutely loves storm chasing.

Terra Verdell: Wood elven druid who has never lived in high society and wants to experience all that she can of it. Left her home in the forests to seek fun. Has found plenty by way of encounters with monsters along the way.

Twilight Obsidia: Tiefling from the Shadowfell who left her abusive family to seek a better life. Currently trying to live her life as a witch in the woods, doing good for the locals and farmers.

Variax Frosthollow: White dragonborn warrior, strongest in his clan, with a destiny to become a true dragon. Was the son of a dragon himself, but was only a dragonborn rather than his true heir.

Velvetina Gingersnaps: Lagomore witch from the Feywild with a desire to see the world. Also with a desire to avoid all of the felonies and fines waiting for her in the Feywild for her past antics.

Wilder Evergreen: Tiefling-orc huntsman with a bone to pick with an archfey. Grew up in woods that neighbored the Feywild, and his sisters were taken when wandering in them. Out for blood.

Willow Wellmeadow: Lagomore druid settled in the mortal plane. Protector of the dense woodlands and warden of a portal to the Feywild. Tends to be kind and welcoming to visitors.

Xakos Duskwalker: Half-orc gunslinger and gunmaker. Studied in ancient artificing and restoration of mythical mechanisms. Had his research stolen and spread out, and is out to take it back.

Yora Vor'ziira: Dark elf rogue who was kept as a slave by her own kind and forced to fight in bloody combats. Was eventually helped free by a human slave, and now wanders the surface world seeking a home.

Zhekhar O'Shevaqt: Efreet lord, master of slaves and of coin in the City of Brass. Known for being incredibly charismatic and devilishly handsome. Also known for spoiling his toys utterly rotten.

Zurrak Hellbellows: Red Dragon, often in a human guise. Considered the King of Dragons, and reigns from a long-dormant volcano he has fashioned into a castle. Intent on conquest, and claiming more wealth.

[neverpathia]

since this is turning into a Slay The Princess blog through no volition of my own,

I might as well talk about my ships.

because this is a fandom.

Paranoid x Hero:

come on. for one there's their banter in the nightmare route, or any route really. they sound like an old married couple. plus I like the idea of physically-weak-yet-clearly-powerful healer × physically-strongish-yet-apparently-weaker hero. like, paranoid is the ultimate support character and hero is the ultimate protagonist.

and the way they would both understand how it feels to feel constantly pressured and to second-guess every single move. because that's the thing about being a hero and trying to please everyone; because that's the thing about having anxiety and scraping for every inch of sanity amidst the terrifying unknown. the expectations. the desperate need to do the right thing, yet the immense urge to deny it all. they initially won't get along too well but given enough time they'd both get it and. stuff. yk annoyances to lovers

plus I kinda prefer the idea of platonic contrahero, and I kinda think contrarian would be aroace because he's just contrary like that. also the idea of contrarian being some little thing that just spawned and now the other voices, especially hero, have to deal with this insufferable kid...gold.

Cheated x Witch/Thorn:

trust issues wife x trust issues husband. it kind of speaks for itself. now I need to watch a playthrough where they get cheated on thorn because everything I've seen just gives them smitten but I've heard it's possible and COME ON I NEED TO SEE IT

trust issues power couple, as I said, except they're both coping in vastly different ways as well. one of them just can't stand the idea of surrender or defeat or the like. he sees life as a competition, except it's one that's indefinitely rigged against him. a game he can never win, and that's why he needs to win it. that's why he can't ever resort to others' help, because they're just going to push him down even lower than he already is. he can't risk it. it was betrayal that caused this fall of his in the first place, after all. and it was distrust that birthed him.

and the thorn is completely given to surrender. she's lost all hope and just accepted it all, but for the very same reasons as cheated. a game that she can never win and that's why she shouldn't bother. but she still doesn't want to trust because it was betrayal that caused this fall of hers in the first place. like him, she was born of distrust. and when she did win once, what then? it wasn't fair. it wasn't a true victory at all.

either way the two of them have major issues and I feel like they could help each other through it. they can empathize with each other (maybe with hero as a couples therapist) and work through this together. plus, I feel like they'd have pretty entertaining banter one on one.

----- -----

okay, I wont elaborate on everything else beyond this line because I could care a little less and I'm lazy but you could send a few asks if you're curious I guess

Opportunist x Smitten

Cold x Spectre

Broken x Hunted

Stubborn x Adversary

Long Quiet x Princess Princess/Heart of the Shifting Mound