#sometimes i do red though or green or purple

[crystalizedcryolite]

HCs of AvM Characters' Typing Styles

(Alan not included despite the misleading photo used lmao)

Red:

Oh, MOST DEFINITELY uses emoticons the most. He's the type to use the most insane ones like╭( ๐_๐)╮and is not above using OwO unironically. Uses all-caps the most, overall VERY expressive in text.

Definitely the one to have the most typos and uses shorthand a lot, but WILL correct when someone else makes a typing error.

Example - "HEYY GUYS hru?? :D" and "NOOO rEuebn in MCSM DIEDDD (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞"

Orange/TSC:

They're a ghoster in chat/J

Types pretty normally, but also uses shorthand a lot. Only uses punctuation and caps when it REALLY counts. Rarely uses emoticons, and uses tone indicators more. Lazy at typing, lmao

Example - "hey what's up?" and "oh dang, rlly? that sucks/gen"

Yellow:

Everything he types is in perfect grammar, punctuation, and spelling. This, of course, leads to him being a bit of a slow typer.

He almost-never uses shorthand, same goes for emoticons. He uses tone indicators, though! And not above using multiple letters like "Helloooo!"

When he makes a single typo, everyone goes crazy and is quick to joke about it. Always quick to correct any typing mistakes.

Example - "I think you mean *Reuben, @/Red, and wasn't there an option to save him? /genq"

Green:

Green, Mr. Everything-must-be-perfect Green? He tries to NEVER make a typo, and is quite fast at typing. Manages to maintain perfect typing even in a fast pace.

(The same outcome from Yellow happens to him if he makes a typing mistake, but gets clowned on a lot less since he'd definitely make more typos than Yellow ever would)

Similar to Yellow, he tries to maintain perfect everything for typing, but he DOES use emoticons and shorthands! Also drags on some words with extra letters, of course.

Example - "Yeaah, I think so?? But the scene where he turns into a porkchop is hilarious lmaooo" and "Oh heyy @/Blue and @/Purple are both online! Hey, guys <3"

Blue:

Has a typing style similar to Orange’s, but uses caps and emoticons a lot more! Doesn't quite care about typing errors unless it's something important. Nothing much to add to this, to be honest.

Example - "Heyyy! ^^" and "The cutsecene was actually pretty funny ngl, it made teh sad moment less sad tho :P"

Purple:

Their typing style used to be extremely perfect, but as time went on, they stopped caring too much. Of course, they use proper spelling and doesn't use shorthand too often, but they do allow themselves to be imperfect!

They use tone indicators more than shorthand, but they do use stuff like "lmaoo" and "wtf" sometimes!

Example - "Wait tf who's Reuben? /genq" and "@/Red I am so sorry for your loss.."

King Orange/King Mango:

Perfect typing, doesn't even try. Doesn't use emoticons, doesn't use shorthand, doesn't use tone indicators. Uses emojis.

Doesn't understand what "lol" means. His typing style reflects his speaking style.

Example - "@/Purple, I do believe that @/Red is referring to the show he's been watching." and "You all must go to sleep, it's late! You kids need more time to grow."

Purple: "Dad we're all young adults-"

KM: "Oh, that's right 🫢. Indeed, you are.."

Red: "o l d XD"

KM: "What does 'XD' mean?"

[noxtivagus]

i definitely wonder who's me between these two 🫣

[moe-broey]

Quick and rough Plumeria redesign, mostly just cause...... I gotta do what comes naturally to me, man. Give me some Shapes. Simplify that design or so help me.

I don't have a lot of complex thoughts about it, actually! Just the idea of having a "sexy" outfit that draws the eyes to certain parts of the body -- while simultaneously being modest and Sharp. Having an edge to it. Also!!!! The luna moth inspired wings!!! I wanted to stay within her og color palette, but I've also always thought luna moth wings would suit her... the top wing is vaguely heart shaped, too!

[ranger-crisis]

I gave her the trans armor, if you even care.

[ameliathornromance]

He first saw you picking flowers.

The Orc was on a walk through the town centre, heading towards the beach. It was too nice a day to be staying inside, baking in the heat and becoming one with his leather sofa. If he must melt into a large green puddle, he will do it at the beach.

As he strolled through the town centre, he admired the impeccably kept gardens of lush grass, bright red roses, purple and pink lilies. And amongst the colour, was you.

The Orc stopped in his tracks, watched you working, trimming away at dead flower heads and picking off wilting leaves. This was the first time he’d ever seen someone take care of the gardens.

The peaceful smile, combined with the delicate way you picked the flowers enraptured him with a kind of calm that he hadn’t felt in years.

You just looked so content, so natural to be surrounded by the bushes, as if you were a deer drinking water from a still lake.

Feeling eyes on you, you looked around to see the source of your discomfort. Locking eyes with the Orc, he flinched, “s-sorry.” He apologised, looking away from you. “I didn’t mean to stare.” He must have looked really creepy to be watching someone so intently.

You smiled at him. “It’s okay, it’s not a normal sight.” Tucking the flowers into the crook of your arm, you stood and made your way over to him. “I mean, it’s not often you see someone raiding a public garden for flowers, right?” You let out an awkward chuckle.

The Orc nodded in agreement, reflecting your awkwardness. “Yeah, I guess not.”

Silence sat between the two of you for a moment. “I’m technically not allowed to be picking them.” You said, after a moment. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.”

Smiling, the Orc assured you, “I won’t tell a soul.”

From that point onward, he made it a point to go and see you at the gardens every day. It was such a rarity to see someone be so happy in their own company, doing their own thing.

He didn’t like to just watch you though, he always made conversation with you. The last thing the Orc wanted was to make you uncomfortable. It would look to other people, a lone Orc, sat on a bench while a pretty young lady tends to the flowers in the public garden.

Through your talks, he learned that you actually work for the local council and take care of the garden every day… while taking some of the flowers home for your own viewing. “I mean, I tend to them, I should at least be allowed to take some home, right?” You told him.

The Orc had nodded absent-mindedly in agreement. You were just so passionate about your job, the delight and excitement you had on your face when he asked you botanical questions made his stomach bubble.

You never acted annoyed by him, laughed at his jokes and even invited him to come and help you with your work. Whenever he had questions, you answered them without judgement and with such zeal.

After spending his days with you, he’d return home, the world seemed… dull. Without all the brightly coloured flowers around and your glowing prescence, he sometimes wondered if it had always been this way to him. He then realised it hadn’t, because you lit up the world.

The Orc pondered on how best to tell you about his feelings. There was a part of him that worried you were only nice to him to… be nice to him. But it wouldn’t hurt to tell you how he felt… would it? It’s not like you were ever nasty or cold to him, so there had to be a chance for him, right?

He thought how best to tell you: Box of chocolate? No, too stereotypical. Just asking you out to dinner? That’s way too basic, and then you might think he wants something else.

He didn’t need to worry about that for long however, one hot summer day, you asked him:

“Did you know that the Victorians used to have a language for flowers?”

“No, I did not.” The Orc answered. He was sat beside you this time, holding up a Rose bush so you could reach the thorns at the roots of the plant.

“They used to use it to tell other people things,” you said as you snipped off the sharp edges. “Like, if you wanted to tell someone you loved them, you’d bring them honeysuckle and roses.”

“Huh.” He said, thoughtfully. He was silent for a moment, thinking on what you’d said.

This was it. That’s how he’d tell you he liked you, through Honeysuckle and Roses.

Once back at home, he jumped on his laptop and researched. The next morning, he went to three different florists, and got what he needed.

While in his car, the Orc did his best to rearrange the flowers in an attractive manner. After adjusting them five or six times, he sighed. The Orc still had his reservations. Of course he was nervous, he hadn’t told anyone he liked them since… Wait, had he ever even liked anyone this much?

He shook his head. “Just have to tell her,” he muttered to himself as he stepped out of the car. As he made his way through the garden, picking and making final changes to the bouquet in his hands, he looked up and stopped dead in his tracks.

You stood at the edge of the garden, talking to a human man. You held a strong scowl at the man, who jabbed and pointed a finger at you, similarly angry with you.

The Orc hung back, watching the altercation unfold.

Finally, the man sighed, and raised his hand to your cheek, like he was going to cup it. But before he could, you raised a hand and slapped him hard across the face.

The man let out a shout, grabbed at your wrist and yanked. You jerked forward.

Within seconds, the Orc was by your side and caught you around the waist with a free arm. He glowered down at the pathetic man, “what’s going on here?” He growled.

The man let go of your arm. “It’s none of your business, I was just having a conversation with the woman here.” The man glared at your Orc. “This hasn’t got anything to do with you.”

“It is, actually.” The Orc hissed.

“How so? You’re just some random-”

“I’m her boyfriend, actually.”

The moment the words escaped him, the Orc wanted to clamp a hand over his mouth, to take back the words and hide them away.

His realisation of horror thankfully, hadn’t shown on his face.

The human man flinched. “Oh…” He said. His tone low, “sorry, I didn’t know…” And with that, he turned away and stalked off.

Huffing, the Orc turned to you. “Are you alright?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed. “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

You shook your head, “no, I’m fine… He was just some creep who wanted my socials. That’s all.”

Your Orc friend let out a sigh, “I… I’m sorry I said that. The boyfriend thing…” The bouquet of flowers were still clutched in his hands, petals wilted slightly from the unpleasantness.

He probably really lost any chance now, just announcing that? To a park full of people? He wouldn’t be surprised if you just stopped talking to him entirely.

“It’s okay… I liked the title, actually.” Your words came out small, mumbled. But to the Orc, they were like the clang of a church bell. His stomach somersaulted, his heart thumped hard in his chest, eyes widened.

“I was hoping that you would ask me out at some point… otherwise I would have asked you myself today.” You gave a cheery, but abashed smile.

Clearing his throat, face burning, the Orc held the flowers out to you, “I still can.” He smiled, hands shaking, “would you like to go out with me?”

You bit your lip, taking the flowers from him. “I’d like that.”

Patreon

[dira333]

“Get in the car.” One would suspect that Aizawa’s here to kidnap you with the face he’s pulling.

“I didn’t order an Uber.” You joke, holding onto the railing for dear life. The world’s spinning quite fast today.

“Sucks.” He grunts, holding the door open with a pointed look. “Now get in the car.”

“I can totally get home on my own, Aizawa.” You insist.

“And I’ve told you to call me Shouta. Now get in the car.”

“Where did you even get the car?” You eye it carefully. It’s not Hizashi’s Mustang that he spray paints every season - you quite liked the green and purple theme he had going on last time you saw it - and it’s not Nemuri’s sleek black sports car either. 

“I bought it. Now get in.” 

“You bought it?” You ask, now curious enough to take the last few steps away from the stairs. Your walk is wobbly, but that’s expected when your cane is in your bag in favor of holding onto the railing. 

Aizawa’s left arm is outstretched, he’s not gripping you but allowing you to grip him however you need it. Less than a heartbeat later you’re sitting inside and to your surprise, the seat heater is on.

“Warm enough?” Aizawa asks as he slips into the driver’s seat. The car smells nice, not brand new, but like him. You’re familiar with his scent from the few times he draped his jacket over you, sometimes pretending to use you as a coat rack, other times foregoing the pretense and just admitting that you looked cold.

“Since when do you have a car?”

“I bought it last week. I wasn’t sure which one to get, though, so if Hizashi tells you anything stupid, ignore him.”

“Why? What could he tell me?”

Aizawa - Shouta, you remind yourself - scowls as if he hates being asked the question, but he still answers even though he doesn’t have to. He always does that and you’ve caught on ages ago. It’s kinda fun to pretend you’re avoiding questions you’re willingly answering.

“I made him get in and out of various cars. He’s the best actor out of all of us. You should see him pretend like he’s got a bad back.”

You laugh. “It’s nice to look out for your friends. I assume he played All Might?” 

The car stops at a red light. Shouta throws you a look that tells you to stop kidding. 

“Do you see me driving All Might around? Also, next time you’ve got so many blood tests scheduled, call me beforehand. I hate learning about it from Nemuri.”

“Sure, sure.” You say, surprised to see his scowl deepen.

You’re even more surprised when he takes a sudden left.

“Where are we going?”

“Getting groceries for you. You need to eat after losing that much blood.”

He parks the car only a few minutes later, mustering you for a second before he speaks up again.

“Do you want to come inside? I’m not holding you hostage if you insist, but the heating stays on and you could take a nap. I’ll be quick about it.”

“Well, if you’re asking like that…” You cuddle into the warm seat with a smile. “I’m gonna stay behind then.”

“Very well.” He slips out of his jacket and drapes it over you like a blanket - he even tucks you in - before winking at you.

“Snacks are in the glove compartment. I’ve got my phone on me if you need me.”

You only dare to open the compartment when you’re sure he’s disappeared into the store.

You’re not surprised to see your favorite snacks there, even a bag of the cookies you like, the brand you only get on the other side of the city.

There’s a new warmth now, filling you from the insides and bubbling in your heart.

Despite all of Hizashi’s teasing, all of Nemuri’s needling, all the pictures of Eri that are hanging on your walls - little Eri holding hands with you and Shouta - there’s no label for what the two of you are. What you have been growing into.

In a few minutes, he will come out with groceries, fresh produce for vitamins, and meat for strength. He will drive you to your apartment, fuss over you on the way up, and pretend he doesn’t mind that your cat’s still a little cautious about him. He will cook, like he always does, asking you questions the whole way through because he knows you love to cook but rarely have the energy to do it properly. 

And after all of that, the good food, the warmth of his presence, he will lay down next to you - just for a quick nap, he says - and fall asleep with his arms around you.

You might not have a label, not a word for what the two of you are, but maybe you don’t need that anyway.

Most certainly not on a day like this.

@alienaiver

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[pomefioredove]

ace with, "I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours." 😚🤌

HELP ME he's so cringe he'd 100% say something like this

summary: "I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours" type of post: short fic characters: ace additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, secondhand embarrassment warning, random halloween(??) party for plot reasons, not proofread

Heartslabyul has never turned a guest away from a party.

Ace had become accustomed to it. There's always someone out of place at the table- the purple of a Pomefiore uniform or the green of a Diasomnia, pointed ears or catlike ones, tall, short, students Ace hadn't even seen passing in the halls.

And having a costume unbirthday didn't make recognizing anyone any easier. Why did they agree on this, again?

"What's this one?" he asks, accepting a tart dish from Trey.

The stressed upperclassmen adjusts his glasses. "Raspberry, I think- no, strawberry. I'm losing track,"

"Yeesh," Ace mutters, looking out the window to the grounds. There's more than three times the dorm out there.

"Mondays, amirite?"

Trey just sighs.

Ace carries the dish to one of the many tables set about the gardens.

This one is empty. He looks over his shoulder; Riddle is busy berating another first year for chewing with his mouth open. No one has noticed the fresh tart yet.

He might as well sneak a slice while he still can...

"Ace!"

Sevens. Ace flinches and the slice of tart slips right out of his grip.

Now he's going to have to clean that up, and without anyone noticing, too. Sigh.

"I know it's Halloween, but you shouldn't scare people like that," he says, turning to the source of the noise. "You-"

As soon as he sees you, his thoughts are cut short.

You're just some rando in a corny masquerade getup, but, damn, you're cute.

No way he's never seen you before- no, you've gotta be from another class. He'll have to pester Jack about it later...

"Oh, sorry," you say. The mask you're wearing makes it hard to read your expression, but he assumes you noticed the tart.

Your voice is vaguely familiar, but it's hard to hear with all the background noise, anyway.

Ace puts on his worst best smile. "Nah, it's fine. The vice housewarden is on full-time catering duty. No one will notice. So, you come here often?"

You snort. "Yeah, I guess I do. What's up with you?"

He got a laugh out of you. That's a good sign, right?

Now, time to go in for the kill.

Ace huffs, trying to act nonchalant. "What's up with me? Nothing much, just thinking about how I like my bed, but I'd rather be in yours,"

A long, terrible silence follows.

And then you laugh. And laugh, and laugh. Ace grimaces. It's hard to tell if it's a good laugh or a bad one from your voice alone.

"Hey, what're you two 'doin?" a much smaller voice asks.

Grim is standing between the two of you now, paws on his hips, mouth half-full of cookies from the other table.

"Buzz off, Grim. Can't you see I'm busy?" Ace murmurs.

Then, much to his horror, the mystery student across from him takes off their mask and scoops Grim up like a baby.

He could die right then and there.

"YOU?!"

"Me," you say.

Grim doesn't seem particularly interested in the context, though he is smirking at the dumb look on Ace's face.

"But you- you're-" he stammers, his face almost as red as his hair. "I didn't even- recognize you! How-"

It's hard to get such a reaction out of him, the "lady killer" he is, and he swears he can see a little smugness in your expression.

Ace groans. "You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know,"

You wipe your eyes, sighing merrily. "No, no, don't stop! I want to hear another! Do you want me to put the mask back on?"

"A real jerk!" he repeats, fleeing the scene before he can say something even dumber.

At least Trey will be happy to have another set of hands in the kitchen...

So much for romance. He huffs and takes a tart out of the oven.

Note to self: pick a better line to ask you out with.

[steviewashere]

Cuddle Bug

Rating: General CW: None apply for this one! Tags: Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Cuddling, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Tooth-rotting Fluff, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington's Friendship

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is feeling safe."

💕—————💕

The first time it happens, Eddie doesn’t say anything. Sort of just reigns himself for a night on the sofa, stiff to the cushions, hands spread and tight by his sides. Steve fell asleep on top of him. His snores directed right over Eddie’s heart. And Eddie is hopeless, really, helpless, too. He didn’t say anything or do anything. Even though he had to pee. But, when he thought about it, Steve had been especially tired—beyond spacey the entire day they hung out. So it was for the best that he just ignored whatever was happening. Eddie let himself fall asleep, too.

However, it kept happening.

Almost every time that Eddie came over. When he would lay on the length of Steve’s couch. Arms loose by his sides. The television on low. Steve would enter the room with a bowl of popcorn. He’d sit on the floor, make Eddie comb his fingers through his hair, and eat his little bowl of food. Then, at some point, he’d let out a jaw cracking yawn, stand to his full height, pop every vertebrae of his spine, and gently ask, “Can I lay on top of you? It’s okay if that’s too—“

“Just lay down, dude. You’re blocking the show.” And sure, maybe Eddie would be a little snippy with it. But not too rough. Not too dejecting. Because he liked Steve, loved really, and he would let Steve do anything to him.

Steve would lay down on him. His right arm tucked between Eddie’s body and the couch, his other arm dangling to the floor. Head cushioned on Eddie’s chest. Eyes pointed at the television. Yet, fifteen minutes in, he’d close his eyes and begin snoring. He’d jerk with the movement. Go boneless against Eddie’s torso. And Eddie would just have to deal with it. Because in no way is he going to be the one to make Steve lose even more sleep. No way. No how.

So it happens. And it keeps happening. And maybe Eddie’s heart is starting to do stupid things. And maybe Eddie just gestures to his body when Steve is done with the popcorn. And maybe, sometimes, his hand hovers over the back of Steve’s skull, ready to land on his hair, ready to just cup him there and hold him gently, like he deserves. But he doesn’t allow himself to touch. Not at all. Just wondering what it would be like. To just hold him. Not play with his hair. To carefully embrace him, that’s all.

Except, it happens one night when Robin’s over. And Eddie knows he won’t be able to explain the dynamic.

They’re watching something on the TV, as usual. Steve’s on the floor. Eddie’s hand is in his hair. They’re eating from the same bowl of microwave popcorn. Robin’s honk laughing in the recliner. And all is well.

Until, “Can I lay down on you?” Steve asks. And Eddie, without really acknowledging much of anything, just waves his hand to his torso. Steve stands from the floor, pops his spine, wipes his greasy hands on his sweatpants, and settles down over the length of Eddie’s body. He cushions his cheek. And he sighs contently.

The colors on the television reflect on his face. Blue and pink and purple and pink. Pink and red and red and green. Then, pink and pink and pink and pink. And then he’s snoring. He’s snoring. His body is jolting with it. Relaxing into the tight line of Eddie’s body. And Eddie holds his hands up from his sides. A hand hovering over the slight curve to Steve’s spine. The other, over his head, fingers twitching to settle in his hair.

Robin must look over at some point. She whispers, raspy and gentle, “He only does that around the people he loves and is most comfortable with.”

“What?” Eddie squeaks back, attempting to be quiet.

“He only does this with the people he loves,” she explains, “when he hasn’t been sleeping well. And he feels like he can trust you. Like he thinks that you’ve got him? He cuddles like this.” She makes the recliner creak. Her footsteps soft on the carpet. She’s crouching in the corner of Eddie’s eye. Her face looking onto Steve softly. “He says it helps him with the nightmares. He gets them too much. Doesn’t sleep through the night unless somebody is there with him. To hold him. You should hold him.”

And, she does the oddest thing, she stands up and leaves.

Like, leaves the room, leaves the house kind of leaving. And Eddie panics a little, because, What? What is he supposed to make of that?

The only logical thing is following her advice. One hand on Steve’s spine. The other cupping the back of his head. His middle finger tickling over Steve’s exposed temple. He sighs into the hold.

But then Steve stirs a little. “Robbie?” His sleepy voice slurs.

“It’s Eddie,” he says. “How about we get you to bed upstairs, cuddle bug?”

“Mh,” Steve grunts. “Tired.”

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Eddie assures. “We can go to sleep upstairs. I’ll cuddle with you, if you want.”

“Really?” Steve murmurs, voice going quieter, nearly back asleep.

Eddie shifts his hold. Squeezing a little. “Yeah, Stevie. Let’s go upstairs and sleep, okay? I’ll keep you safer up there.”

“Okay,” Steve mutters.

“I got you,” Eddie promises.

“Got me,” Steve utters back. “Hands got me.”

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles, “Hands got you.” And resigns himself to carrying Steve to his bedroom. Plopping him down on the bed. Getting under the covers. And holding him to the side of his body. Warm and content. With something, he can taste it, like love.

💕—————💕

[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. IX

tags- @beebeechaos @r-3dlips @emery-aka-emmy @watermel0nsugarhigh @delaynew @purple-1995 @pedro-pascal-love @fall-winter-heart97 @thelastemzy @reyndaisy @littleblackcatinwonderland @hueanhdang

cw- mention of death

finally a longer one!

Eight full days passed without trouble. Daenys and Cregan slept close together each night, pointedly avoiding talking about it each morning. Though, it was clear to be a great comfort for both of them. Daenys found herself having seven more dreamless nights, grateful for each one, though slightly wishing she could be blessed with the type of dreams that others had every night. Even Cregan, who smiled sometimes in his sleep, seemed to have pleasant dreams.

They were only one more night away from The Wall. Then, they would reach it by the morrow's noon.

Daenys had taken well to hunting, setting near-expert traps and even making it something of a competition. Without needing words, they would both hold up their catches of the day, either laughing gleefully or scowling when they won or lost. All in good fun, they agreed.

Dusk had even taken to sleeping with Morningstar each night, instead of at the human's feet. The dragon had not made her displeasure known, so her tolerance said everything for her. The wolf was comically tiny against the massive wing, quite like a mother and her pup. Though, perhaps Dusk didn't get that idea. His infatuation with the dragon appeared to be some sort of puppy love.

Cregan had pointed that out days prior, snorting at his companion's simpering behavior. "He follows that dragon like a green boy follows a pretty whor-" He paused, stopping himself. "follows a courtesan." He coughed into his hand, cheeks pink at his own borish vocabulary.

Daenys rolled her eyes, snickering at his expression. "I am not so green myself, my Lord. I can handle a few less-than-kind words."

His eyes widened, turning to her on Red. "Do you mean...?"

She understood immediately, flushing pink herself now. "Heavens, no! I only mean I grew up with my vulgar uncles. They have never bothered to filter their words or bring their 'lady-friends' into the Red Keep. I can not do such things until I am wed, I understand by duties." Daenys informed him, slightly embarrassed that she called herself experienced when she was not.

"I would not fault you if you did. After all, a lord could sire a thousand bastard babes, before or after marriage, and not be reprimanded." He said.

That was true. Rhaenyra was forced into marriage immediately after her 'nightly activities' with Daemon were discovered. Aegon was actively still participating in such activities after his marriage but received turned heads and blind eyes.

"That is a truth I have come to resent." She huffed. "There are many of us—silver-haired—out on the streets of King's Landing. It is a great shame that mine own kin is suffering on the streets instead of in the Keep where they belong."

Many times, she thought of how unfair their circumstances were compared to hers. They shared their bastard blood, but only she and her brothers got the privilege of being legitimized and defended whilst the others starved and suffered.

He smiled sweetly at her, perhaps in understanding of her underlying words. "I can sympathize with that sentiment. My father was an honorable man until his death. His one sin was fathering my half-sister, though I do not resent Sara for it. It is a shame how only the children suffer for the parents' actions. I watched how she was treated her whole life compared to me, simply for having a different mother."

She hummed her agreement. For a moment, she slightly wished that her mother shared his opinion.

"I loved my father dearly. But, I would never repeat his actions. My wife's honor is as sacred as mine, to father a child that was not hers would be unforgivable."

"Your wife will be a lucky woman."

He eyed her, amused. "If you call that lucky, then I suppose so. I would call it being a husband."

"Most men do not take that so seriously. A wife is seen as the one who simply provides heirs and a dowry, and whores and paramours are the true lovers." She shrugged.

"Is that how Prince Daemon sees Queen Rhaenyra?" He asked, catching her off guard.

"No...he is perhaps the only one of her husbands to have no lover after they married. Their marriage is a special case, I believe. He has only wanted her for many years, even through his previous two marriages. Loyal, yes, but no less a greedy man."

Daenys didn't care for her mother's and Daemon's strange history. She would not personally wish to marry a man twice her age, but her mother loved him, so she tolerated it. She did grow to like Daemon, too, after a few years of living with him.

Cregan nodded beside her, taking in her words. "Ser Laenor was different?"

"I'm sure you've heard of my father's preferences from the gossip surrounding the court."

"I've told you before, my Lady, that those in the North do not care for menial gossip." He reminded her.

Daenys nodded, exhaling deeply. "He loved my mother, though not as Daemon does." Or Harwin did, she left out. "But he could not change his affinity for his...squire." She finished, glancing at his facial expression only to see it unchanged.

"What of Ser Harwin?" The question made her nervous, though she refused to show it. His question was merely curious, not accusing or backhanded. "Your mother's sworn protector must have been around quite a lot, in your young years. What was he like?"

"Ser Harwin was a kind man. Kinder than any other knights at the Keep. He was Lord Commander of the kingsguard, though he never acted untoward or mean, not even once. He watched over me, in a time when many of the young kids in the keep had started to act as my scourages." She smiled in reminisce. "You remind me of him, slightly."

"How so?"

"A protector. A pillar of strength against harsh winds."

Cregan chuckled, though not unkindly. "I am glad you are able to see me that way, Princess. Perhaps you are a poet, not a sailor."

She laughed, loud and clearly. "If only you could see me at my septa's lessons, you would change your mind in a heartbeat. I jumbled the words so badly that two—two!—septas gave up trying to teach me to sing and recite poetry and music."

Cregan grinned at the sound, pleased to hear her laugh. "That can't be so, I've heard you humming little songs in High Valyrion when you are with Morningstar."

Bashful, she asked. "You heard that?"

"Most times, yes." He said. "Though I enjoyed it. I can't understand the words, but I can piece together that no words were stumbled over."

"Mm. Perhaps it is my audience, then. In front of my septas, their stares were so intense that I nearly cried when practicing in front of them. My dragon does not judge as they do, she sings along."

"I hope to be a well-mannered audience for you." He said, tone raillery and light.

Daenys didn't mind if he heard.

Night came fast, as it seemed to for the past days. Their routine came automatically: setting the tent, cooking kills over the fire, eating, conversing, and then finally heading to bed. They found their routine with changing into night shifts, as well. Simply turning as they changed at the same time instead of waiting their turns outside of the tent. Cregan and Daenys settled closely, breaths steady and visible in the night air.

It had grown jarringly cold. Daenys believed it was cold in Winterfell, but near The Wall was another story. She pitied those who lived at The Wall and the wildlings who were trapped beyond it.

Her streak of dreamless sleep was broken that night. She could barely see, but she could hear. She wished desperately that she couldn't, that she could forget the sounds that tormented her.

Sawing.

Slow, squelching, sawing.

She was in the Red Keep. The torches in the nursery were dim. So dim, that faces were impossible to clearly make out. But she could recognize Helena anywhere. Her sweet, sisterly Aunt Helena, who had never hurt a soul in her life, was pleading for two men to take her jewlery, take her, instead of her babe.

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, if she remembered correctly. She had met them once, at the family dinner the night before Viserys died. Helena showed them proudly to her niece, though her youthful face reminded Daenys of just how young she was when she was forced to have the twins. The thought made her feel ill, but she smiled and greeted the shy children anyway.

The men refused to take Helena, insisted they needed a boy to die. They forced the sweet mother to point out her son, to which she did with a pained and stunned look on her face. Daenys wanted to reach out, comfort her aunt, and protect her babes with her. But her feet remained glued to the floor, unable to be seen or heard by anyone in the room. It was not happening at that moment. Would it truly happen soon? It was war. Dirty tactics were used all the time without remourse. Surely they were not sent by Rhaenyra...right? She would never seek babes to be harmed, especially after Visenya was lost days ago. This must be a false dream. Daenys only needed to wait it out.

Sawing.

Sawing, squelching, thrashing. It felt like it went on forever.

Until it stopped. Daenys blinked her eyes open, glancing at the bed. Jaehaerys' head was gone from his body. Jaehaera was missing from her bed. Helena was gone. Daenys found herself running, finally able to move now from her planted spot. She ran out of the nursery as if the two men would chase her, too. She followed after Helena, who abruptly stopped at the bottom of the steps. She turned around, revealing her purple tear-filled eyes and Jaehaera clutched protectively in her arms. Helena looked Daenys right in her eyes.

"Stop him." She whispered as if she could see Daenys standing in the middle of the steps plain as day. She continued running, perhaps to guards, leaving Daenys stunned at her spot.

Daenys was awoken after that. No one had ever seen her during her dreams. Not Laena, not Luke, nor Harwin or Laenor. Helena had similar dreams, she knew. Waking dreams, mumbling to herself while she was wide awake. Helena and her always shared that, though never spoke on it. Daenys was torn. Would that become true? Would Helena's son truly be murdered in his bed?

She could not think on it alone anymore. She needed a distraction. Her first thought was to seek out Morningstar, to curl up under her warmth, and stay there until the visions stopped plaguing her mind ruthlessly. She didn't have her books to draw in or her journals to write in. She couldn't let out her thoughts any way but speaking.

"Cregan..." She whispered, leaning up on her elbow and facing the man. He looked to be having a happy dream, smiling slightly in his sleep.

"Cregan, please. I need you." She whimpered, cold tears falling onto his face as she leaned over him. She could feel guilty later, but for now, she needed him desperately.

He flinched unconsciously at the wetness falling onto his face, wiping it and blinking himself awake. His eyes finally met her tear-filled lilac ones, sitting up instantly. He held her shoulders gingerly, "what's the matter, sweet girl? Are you hurt?" He scanned her, wide awake now at the chance of a threat around. He found no blood, only her own crescented nail prints in her palms from them behind clenched so harshly in her sleep. He took her hands in his own, soothing over them while he waited for her response.

Daenys' chest heaved raggedly, trying to catch her own breath from her panic. He reached out, pulling her by her head to his chest, allowing her to clutch his shirt instead of her own palms and hair to ground herself.

He calmed slightly, figuring the distress was caused by her dreams instead of a physical threat. Recalling her Valyrion lullabies that she hummed to her dragon, Cregan mindlessly hummed into her ear, chest vibrating with the use of his vocals. He never hummed or sang, didn't care for it, and was never taught it. But, he would try anything to pacify Daenys' storming mind.

Eventually, after many sobs and mumbles that Cregan couldn't make out, Daenys stilled in his arms.

"He will die. I don't know who I have to stop, Cregan."

He looked down at her head, face still buried and half-mumbled by his neck. "Who will die?"

"My cousin. Helena's babe, Jaehaerys." She whispered, mind reeling still.

Cregan bit his cheek harshly. It would happen, at an unknown time to the both of them. Sometime in the future, or perhaps as they spoke now. He didn't doubt her vision for a moment.

"What do you mean by stop him, sweeting? He asked, rubbing small shapes onto her back.

"Helena told me so. She saw me. Actually saw me. No one ever has before. She held Jaehaera as she told me to 'stop him'." Daenys insisted almost hysterically.

He nodded, allowing her to mumble some more incoherently into his skin.

Stop who? How could she prevent a murder in King's Landing all the way in the North? Even on Dragonstone, she was too far away to help Helena. She could not fly her dragon to Helena to warn her, lest she be shot down by a scorpion's lance. She could not send a raven, either, knowing it would be intercepted, and Daenys would be accused of plotting to murder the heir.

Who was it? Who could she access? Helena knew, she would not ask it of her if she knew Daenys couldn't do it. Luke and Jace would be back at Dragonstone by now, and had no ill intent towards anyone. Rhaenyra and Daemon would be too focused on their council meetings. What grievance did any of them have to go after Jaehaerys? She could not think of any.

"Who is it?" She asked Cregan, then. "Who could order a babe to die in his bed?"

"I do not know, Princess. I'm sorry." He said painfully, wishing to help her more than anything at that moment.

They stayed like that until sunrise. Cregan and Daenys held each other. The only sound in the air was her mumblings and his comforting shushing and hums. He knew they could not waste time, The Lord Commander at Castle Black had long been expecting them.

He guided an exhausted Daenys to his own horse, not trusting her to be able to stay on Mylo. She sat behind him, head slumped to his shoulders as they rode on for the final few hours towards the castle. Mylo loyally walked behind, knowing his faithful food source could only come from the Lord in front of him.

As they reached the gates of Castle Black, Daenys found herself waking up in awe. The Wall, rumored to reach the skies, truly was taller than anything she had ever seen before. Seven hundred feet of pure ice lay in front of her, an impenetrable fortress that protected all that lie South of it.

Cregan chuckled at her gaping reaction. "I felt the same way when I saw The Wall for the first time, too. It is an even better view on top, my Lady." He assured her, glad to see her distracted from her perturbed mood.

She nodded, shifting in the saddle impaitiently. She hands were wrapped around his waist, though didn't quite meet in the middle. He patted her hand as they waited for the gate to open, reminding her to be patient.

As Cregan hopped off, he helped Daenys from Red, staying close to her as a stable boy led both horses to be fed and watered. "My Lord Stark." Bowed a young man, who seemed familiar with Cregan. "We are glad to see you here. Would you like for yourself and the Princess to be shown to the dining hall for a hot meal?" He nodded politely towards Daenys, bowing swiftly once more at her.

Cregan took her hand in his arm, eyeing the men who had gathered around, leaning to each other and grinning wolfishly at the sight of a pretty young woman at Castle Black. The only women they ever saw were the ones in the small town near The Wall, which only had a few women who sold their services to the many men of the Night's Watch, and none were as pretty as noblewomen were bred to be. Cregan knew this all too well, hungry eyes watching the Princess like she were prey. Daenys shifted uncomfortably, aware of the intense gazes, though in a different way than Cregan.

"Is Lord Commander Trant not here?" Cregan asked.

The young man shook his head. "He's been conducting business at Queen's Gate for the past few days. He'll be back shortly, he promised to return before the afternoon."

Cregan nodded, a tick in his jaw. "The Princess and I will be on top of The Wall, while we wait. Do not disturb us." He commanded, striding towards the crickity little iron cage that was embedding into the ice. Daenys paused, reluctant to step into the death trap.

"This will take us all the way up to the top?"

He smiled, guiding her gently by the small of her back to step inside. "Don't worry, it is used every day and hasn't failed the Watch yet." Daenys flinched as it whirred to life, bringing them up foot by foot. She watched the ground grow distance below her, usually an exciting sight on her dragon, but now a terrifying one. She held tight to his arm as if he could save them both if the contraption failed.

It took a few minutes to reach the top. Cregan stepped out first, allowing her to jump out swiftly. She sighed, glad to be on solid ground. If it could be counted as such. Though The Wall was pure ice, Daenys was pleasantly surprised at it not being slippery. Perhaps due to the soft layer of snoe on top of it for her boots to grip.

Cregan brought her to the edge of The Wall, many in the Watch bowing and gawking at the sight of the pair. All knew of the Princess' expected visit, but had not prepared for the sight of a Targaryen in their lifetime.

The sight on the edge was truly otherworldly. Miles of expansive snowy forests and deserts, all unclaimed by man or beast.

"It is more beautiful than you said, Cregan." She said, eyes glued to the view.

"It is." He smiled, though seemed to tense slightly when she turned to him. "Daenys. I promised you that we would speak of the number of bannermen I would send for the Queen. I have had plenty time to think it through on our journey over here. As of now, I have 2,000 greybeards ready to die for their Queen's war."

Daenys nodded, listening to him intently. "Greybeards, like old men?" She asked half-humorously.

He nodded. "Winter is coming, and I can not freely give a large portion of my young men without something in return."

"Return?" She asked, growing nervous. He had not mentioned such a thing in their entire time together.

"Do you like Winterfell, your highness?" Cregan asked, brows furrowed as he looked down at her.

"Of course–I have grown to love the North."

"Would you..." he trailed off, hesitating slightly. "Would you be willing to live in the North?"

"As in...a marriage offer?" Daenys asked.

"Indeed. If I could have your hand, Daenys, in marriage, the North would have a dragon and a Princess. They would be more willing to fight in a Southern war if their own Wardeness was who they fought for."

Daenys stood there, stunned. Had he brought her all the way to The Wall just to ask for her? Is that why he had been so warm to her, so friendly? Her face hardened, though that did not go unnoticed by Cregan.

"Daenys, please hear me out." The man pleaded, clutching both of her hands in his own and bringing them up to her chest.

"I would not ask something of you that would displease you. I wish to keep you safe. And if, after the war, you wish to never see me again, I will allow you to live at Dragonstone or the Red Keep with your family. I will never force anything on you, never ask for sons. All I want is you. I have wanted for you for a while now. Please do not mistake my genuine feelings for using you. Know that the last thing in this world that I want to see is your unhappiness." He spoke breathlessly.

"I love you, my sweet dreamer. It would truly kill me to see you at the mercy of some old and cruel Lord, who would keep you from happiness. If that makes me a selfish man, then so be it. But at least I am an honest one."

Daenys felt her chest swell with an unknown emotion, throat tight, and eyes glossing with tears. "Love me? How could you love me after all that you have seen from me, Cregan?" She whispered, voice taut with emotion.

He took her face into his hands, wiping away at her eyeline to ensure no tears fell from them. He kissed the spot between her brows with the utmost reverence, pulling away but not moving his hands. "How could I not? All I have seen, I adore. Do not simplify your entire being to your dreams–that is merely one part of you." He interrupted her, knowing exactly what she could argue against.

"Cregan..." she felt the warmth in his mismatching eyes fill her body with a soft heat, though they were surrounded by the winds so high up she barely even felt it.

Before she could finish, an older man came marching towards them.

"Lord Commander," the Stark greeted, though his irritation wasn't hidden. "I asked to be left alone until we returned."

"Forgive me, Lord Stark, Princess." The man bowed his head twice in turn. "There has been a letter awaiting the Princess since you left Winterfell. It is dire."

Daenys' eyes widened, it must be from Rhaenyra. Was there an update on the war? Cregan took the scroll in his hands, unrolling it slowly. She watched as his face dropped before looking to Daenys with a sympathetic gleam in his eyes.

"What?" Her voice wavered. "What has happened?" She didn't want to know. She wanted to stay oblivious in the North forever, keeping time paused back at home.

The Lord Commander shifted his gaze down sadly, respectfully taking his leave to the rickity lift so the two could talk.

Cregan placed a hand on her bicep in a comforting way, but she shook her head, urging him on. "Tell me."

"Its about your brother, Lucerys." He said softly.

"Luke? What of him?" She already had her suspicion. She saw him that night, the night she stayed at Winterfell. Daenys was forced to watch the boy and his young dragon being chased through stormy skies by a much bigger, looming beast.

She saw him, and continued treating with Lord Stark. Daenys left her brother to the wolves—or more accurately the dragon. All for a few thousand men to fight in a useless, stupid war. For what? What is the use of sitting atop of the Iron Throne if all of your children will be dead. Is that mot Rhaenyra's legacy? Is Jacaerys next? Little, sweet Joff and the babes Viserys and Aegon? Is she next?

"He is dead. Aemond Targaryen killed him with Vhagar."

No.

He was not dead. Lucerys was playing a prank on her. This time, he just took it too far. He loved his pranks, especially on his eldest sister, who was so easy to fool.

Lucerys was alive and waiting for her shocked face to burst through Dragonstone's doors.

"He's not dead." She shook her head, stepping back from Cregan. "Luke is fine. That letter must be his idea of a jest, 'tis all." She nodded to herself, solidifying her own words.

"Daenys—"

"I will marry you upon my return to Winterfell, whenever the Queen allows me time. You can send a raven to Dragonstone with how many extra men my hand will bring her. Farewell, Lord Stark." She bid him, focusing on making her way to the lift. She entered it, being sent up just in time for her to be allowed down.

"Daenys!" He yelled, tugging her arm roughly to his chest. Cregan loosened his grip apologetically, but did not allow her out of his reach.

She faced him, face scrunched up in a furious glare. "Let go of me. It is treasonous to lay a hand on your Princess." She bit harshly.

Cregan pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms firmly around her back and head, resting her head on his shoulder gently. "Don't go like this, Princess. It is dangerous to fly in such a state." He murmured into her hair, feeling her tense form shiver.

"What do you know of flying? Morningstar will get me to Dragonstone swiftly, she is the fastest of our dragons—" Daenys was cut off by her own sobs wracking her body violently.

If it were Morningstar sent to Storm's End, she could've outflown Vhagar. Little Arrax, with all his youthful pride, was the smallest yet of the three eldest children's dragons. He just barely started to be able to fly with Luke on his back. It had barely been a year since he'd grown big enough. They were both but mere babes in comparison to Vhagar and Aemond.

"It's not fair!" She yelled into his pelts. She could barely breathe, knees weak and unable to hold herself up. Cregan lowered them both to the floor, keeping her securely in his lap. "My boy, he's only a child. He should've stayed home, I should've kept him safe." She nearly screamed at herself. Her stupidity and foolishness.

How dare the Gods show her Luke's death but not Laenor's. How could they hate her so much? Hate her family? Did the gods hate bastards as much as their creations?

"It's not fair, I know. But you couldn't have done anything, my Lady." He cooed softly in her ear.

"I could, I have known for weeks and done nothing! Lived in obliviousness while my brother has been lost to the sea."

Living like a common whore, allowing herself to sleep next to a man that she was not married to. Allowing him to see her bare, and not being nearly as modest as a Lady should be. Alicent was right, she was always right. She was just like her mother. If she had stayed with Cregan in the wilderness for any longer, would she have allowed him to bed her, too? Would she father his bastard and be forced to cover it with a false marriage?

Daenys needed to leave.

But her legs did not obey her still.

Cregan gave her a pitying glance, one that she could not see in her own wallowing. Nothing he could say could truly get through to her. No one could comfort him for weeks after his own little brother passed. The guilt never leaves.

"Come, Princess. I will not send you off without first making sure you have food in your belly and warmer pelts around you." Cregan told her, but did not make her walk. Instead, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the dining hall, which he demanded be cleared for her privacy. She was despondent the whole time, silent and unmoving. It was only the Lord and Lady in the room, besides a young serving boy.

Daenys glanced up at him, finding kind brown eyes staring at her as the boy dropped stew in front of her. "M'sorry for your loss, M'Lady." He bowed his head low, brown curls shifting at the movement. Why was a boy jis age serving The Wall? Orphaned, most likely, or sold by his parents. She didn't know which fate was worse.

What she did know was that the boy was nearly a spitting image of Lucerys. She hung her head again, unable to look at the young boy. Cregan thanked him quietly, sending him on his way. Their stews began to grow cold in the silence, the both of them still as statues.

"You must eat, Daenys." Cregan urged.

"I will only throw it back up, I cannot stomach anything right now."

"Try, my Lady. Just a few bites. Half."

Sluggishly, she picked up the spoon and took slow bites. Chewing felt like it took ages, and swallowing was nearly painful. Her head spun, feelng nausea rising in her. Once she got through half, Cregan looked satisfied. Daenys stood, and he mirrored her action.

She led him to the iron gate, waiting for it to open. Outside of it, Morningstar was already crouched to allow her to leave. Cregan took off his brown pelts that she had been using as blankets for the past nights, pulling them snug over her shoulders.

"I already have a cloak on." She said tiredly, though did not fight his action.

"For my assurance, 'tis all." He said, fastening the direwolf clip around it. "Your flight home will be much colder than the one you took to Winterfell."

He paused a moment, clutching her hand in his. He placed a gentle kiss on her cold knuckles, lingering a moment longer. "I will send four thousand of my young soldiers to your mother's cause. That will be six thousand Northerners to fight for the Blacks. Return to me safely, Princess. That's all I ask of you."

They were officially bethrothed. Daenys wished it was under better circumstances, but this is the card she was dealt. Daenys nodded, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Then she left.

Daenys stopped after a few minutes of flying, throwing up what little she ate into a thorned bush. One snagged on her cheek as she stood up straight, coughing slightly. How very like her to enjoy a meal while her family was waiting anxiously for her return. Daenys mounted Morningstar again, not looking back at The Wall before taking flight again. This time, she would not stop until she was home.

🗡

She could see King's Landing in the distance and had half a mind to burn it all down. Morningstar could easily do so. Even the small folk, along with all the peasant bastards that shared blood with her, would burn. She wouldn't care. As long as Aemond Targaryen would be dead at her feet, she would do it. Perhaps they all deserved it. Sin was the only thing able to survive and breed in King's Landing.

Morningstar was exhausted by the time they landed on the dragonpit's perch. Meleys and Caraxes were already in the pit, roaring to greet their kin excitedly. They, too, were being fed after clearly long flights. Patrols, she guessed. "Feed her." She demanded the Dragonkeepers as she passed them, who were too stunned at her sudden appearance to even bow or greet their Princess.

Daenys charged into the Painted Table room, seeing it lit with a bright orange glow as multiple men surrounded it. Rhaenyra wasn't there. Why where they holding a Queen's council without the Queen? Daemon was at the head, just as he had been when Rhaenyra was screaming in her chambers whilst giving birth to his daughter.

There was no one to announce Daenys. No one had expected her that evening, especially with no warning. There was no time for it, either, as Rhaenyra was announced by a guard. Daenys quickly moved aside when he spoke, shifting next to Jace, who squeezed her hand at the sight of her puffy face. She could not look him in the eye, nor Daemon, who kept his keen eye on her until Rhaenyra entered.

The Queen strided in, meeting Daemon in the middle. He whispered something to her, earning a solemn nod. Rhaenyra continued past him to the head of her table.

"Your council stands at the ready, Your Grace." Daemon bellowed for all to hear him clearly. Daenys only paid mind to her mother's dreadful state. Unkempt hair, ash covered face, hands sandy and clutching at some piece of cloth that Daenys could not figure out. "I will fly to Harrenhall at your command. Set our toehold in the Riverlands."

"Your Grace, my Lord husband's blockade of the Gullet moves into place. All seaborne travel and trade to King's landing will soon be cut off."

The Queen did not respond to her aunt or husband. A great silence held the room until, "I want Aemond Targaryen." Was her command. She waited a mere moment, glancing at Daenys before leaving to her chambers to fix her state.

Daenys was led to her room by Jacerys, who insisted she get out of her heavy Northern attire now that she was in better temperatures. She cared little for the heat that the clothes engulfed her with now that they were quite useless on Dragonstone, but allowed her maids to change her anyway. She bathed, too, and had her hair done up more traditionally. She kept Cregan's personal furs on the wooden edge of her bed, carefully ensuring they were untouched.

Jacaerys waited outside the whole time, escorting her with an outstretched arm to their mother's chambers. "Are you okay, Dae?" He asked gently, as if she might crumble if he spoke in a normal tone.

She sniffed slightly, nodding. "I am fine. I will be well when Aemond is dead and burned."

The tone of her voice and her violent words shocked him, pausing his steps abruptly.

"Was...did something happen in the North? Besides the news?" He asked, dark brows knitting together.

"Nothing happened. Why do you ask?" She turned to him suspiciously, not wishing to share every detail of what happened. She did not wish to enlighten her family of her brutal killing. That would be between Daenys and Cregan until the day she died. And perhaps Rhaenyra, who might have the answers to her burning questions.

"I am merely concerned. Was he a borish man? I wish I could've gone to the North in your stead, sister. Lady Jeyne was kind enough, she would've liked you." Jace said, slowly meeting her steps once again.

"Lord Stark is not like the typical depiction of a northman. I handled him just fine." Was her vague answer. Truly, Daenys was happy to see her brother again. To be with her family again. But her joy was dulled by the missing presence in the halls. The one who was meant to greet her in the dragonpit. Jacaerys gave her a pitying look, opening Rhaenyra's chambers.

Their mother sat on a couch, meeting her children's eyes as they walked in and bowed. She looked more put together now that she received the same treatment as Daenys.

Rhaenyra stood, awaiting Daenys and Jacaerys to give their messages. Her chest heaved slightly, something that would have gone unnoticed by anyone but her children, who knew her too well. Jace started. "Lady Jeyne Arryn has pledged her support. In exchange for a dragon to guard the Vale." His voice shook. He had been home for two weeks, yet in Daemon's firm presence, he forced himself to be strong and hard. He had not seen his mother except for her quick visits to eat and feed Syrax.

Rhaenyra nodded encouragingly, eyes brimming red.

"Lord Cregan stark has pledged 2,000 greybeards to you. In exchange for my hand, he promises another 4,000 young men." Daenys stated firmly. She refused to waver even slightly. Even when she wished to be held in her mother's arms. She couldn't let herself be comforted by the woman who had lost her own child. Daenys was the one who must comfort her when her own husband was so useless at it. His biggest flaw.

Rhaenyra and Jace looked shocked at the news. "You gave him your hand?" Jacaerys asked, a worried look on his face. "But–"

"I gave Cregan Stark my hand in exchange for 4,000 men. It is a fair trade, Jacaerys." She told him, holding no grudge or sorrow for it. She didn't wish for her family to, either. "He is an honest man. He will send every last one to fight for you, my Queen."

"That is not his concern. The Starks keep their oaths, yes. But are you happy with the arrangement, my sweet girl?" Rhaenyra asked, cupping Daenys' cheeks in the way that always made Daenys melt. She didn't trust her voice, so she simply nodded. Rhaenyra took Jace and Daenys into her arms. She could feel the quiet sobs deep in their chest, both seeking comfort in the reunion. Daenys held them tightly, afraid to let go. She had her time to cry, in Cregan's arms, now it was her time to finally make herself useful.

The Targaryens and Velayrons stood outside on a tall hill of Dragonstone's rocky beaches. Rhaenyra placed Lucerys' red tunic, the one she had found with Arrax's wing, onto the pyre's stand, reluctantly stepping back once she did. Jacaerys, holding little Joff, placed one of Luke's blankets onto the pyre. Joffrey, who didn't quite understand the funeral and its meaning, tossed a wooden horse that Luke handed down to him into the pyre.

Daenys stepped up, glancing at Rhaena across the fire's glow, seeing her struggle to keep her composure. She mourned for their broken betrothal along with her cousin, knowing they would have made a very happy couple. She clutched onto Luke's favorite tunic. The one she gave him for his three and tenth name day. Even when it grew tighter on him each month during his growthspurt, he still insisted he wore it. It had an embroidered three-headed dragon on it, in the colors of House Velayron. A testament to his future station as Lord of the Tides and a Targaryen. She stitched it for days, ensuring it was perfect for him. Daenys tossed it into the pyre, stepping beside Jace and watching the fire burn out. Most left after a respectable amount of time. Rhaenyra and Daenys stayed until the fire stopped entirely.

Her mother rubbed her back soothingly, allowing Daenys to rest her head on her shoulder. "Mother, I have so many things to ask you. A lot has happened in the North..." She muttered.

"Let us go inside. After you rest, I will dedicate my morning only to you." Rhaenyra promised, kissing the crown of Daenys' head affectionately. Daenys nodded, watching her mother walk back inside to retire for the evening.

A boat's movement caught her eye. Her squinted, lifting her skirts to walk slightly further down the hill. An intruder? No, they were leaving the beach. Daenys thought for a moment, there were very few on the island, and even less who had a reason to leave in secret. Unless...was it true? Were Daemon and Rhaenyra plotting to take Aemond's life in the dead of night?

No. Daenys gasped, sprinting towards the entrance doors of the castle. She needed her own way of transportation to King's Landing.

She was able to find a man who reluctantly took her on his small fishingboat. She doned a dark cloak that she was able to scrounge up in her hurry. Daenys tossed a bag of coins into his awaiting palm, not caring to count what was in it. The boat ride felt excruciatingly long, anticipation rising in her every minute. The thought of being caught made her scared, but the thought of Daemon getting to Jaehaerys before she did scared her worse.

Finally, the man stopped at a discreet sandy part of King's Landings' side wall. There was an extrance nearby, as well as another anchored fishing boat. Daenys scowled. How long had Daemon been there ahead of her? "Stay here." She called behind her, sprinting towards the open entrance in the wall while holding her hood over her silver hair.

There were no guards at it, unsurprisingly. They had all grown lazy under Aegon's leniency. She wandered the dark and damp streets unti she found an iron gate with a hooded figure waiting at it. A guard was walking away from the gate, small purse of coins clutched in his meaty fist.

"Daemon!" Daenys whisper-yelled, grabbing her step-father by his cloak and yanking him back. He barely stumbled but still had the audacity to look shocked and angry at her.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"You fool! You didn't kill Aemond. Do you think that lazy, drunken, craven could kill him?"

"I ordered him to kill Aemond, of course he will. If not, I'll find a way in myself." Daemon scoffed. Daenys grabbed his arms tightly, shaking her head. "You killed Jaehaerys. You killed a babe!" She yelled, uncaring of who would hear now. Perhaps it was both of their karma to die in King's Landing for attempting to kill Helena's son. Maybe if they were caught, they would catch the two men before they cold. Rhaenyra could find two more riders for their dragons, somewhere.

Daemon covered her mouth, pulling her to a less lit corner of the street before anyone could recognize them. "Are you mad, girl? You will get us both killed—" She punched him in the face, not staying to watch him clutch his nose before running back to her boat in a flurry of black and silver.

Daenys rode back to Dragonstone in a silent mourning. Jaehaerys would die. She knew it this time. She followed her dreams, finally. But still lost to fate. Or lost to Daemon. That coward, sending a guard to kill the kinslayer. He should be challenging Vhagar and the One-eyed Prince himself.

They could take him together. If only he trusted her to fight. Morningstar was large and battle-ready. Her and Caraxes would surely dominate the fight, a son for a son.

Not a child for a child.

Daenys slipped into her chambers, waiting for the news to wake the castle up. It wouldn't be long.

🗡

dont mind me using morningstar and dusk as parallels for cregan and daenys 😋

changing the times between Jace and Rhaenyra arriving. Let's say Rhaenyra was coming and going for two weeks, only coming back when she had to eat and let syrax eat. Jace came back the day the raven came to bring the news, and has been ruling with Daemon in her place. Just to say Rhaenyra and Daenys came back officially at the same time to continue the plot forward with no gaps.

[writing-with-sophia]

Poison list (2)

Hello, it's me again! After some feedback on my previous potion list post, I decided to research a little more about potions and come up with this post. I hope everyone will like it!

1. Poison Ivy

I think anyone who has watched Batman will know the female supervillain Poison Ivy. I thought it was a name she came up with until I found the Poison Ivy plant online, lol.

Eastern poison ivy is typically a hairy, ropelike vine with three shiny green leaves budding from one small stem. The leaves may be red in the fall.

Western poison ivy is typically a low shrub with three leaves. In the East, Midwest, and South, it grows as a vine.

It may have yellow or green flowers and white to green-yellow or amber berries.

It has an oily sap in its leaves called urushiol. This causes an allergic reaction that can make your skin red, swollen, and itchy.

2. Poison Oak

It is typically, a shrub with leaves of three, like poison ivy. The sun-facing side of the leaf has tiny hairs on it and is a darker shade of green than the ground-facing side. 

Pacific poison oak may be vine-like.

Though it grows all over the country, it’s more common in the West.

It could be hours or days before your skin reacts to the plant sap (urushiol). And your rash may eventually turn bumpy and form blisters that ooze.

3. White Snakeroot

A North American herb with flat-topped clusters of small white flowers and contains a toxic alcohol known as trematol.

Generally found in woods and along streams. It is not often found on open prairies because it does not do well in full sunlight. The plant will grow 1 to 3 feet in height and will have thin smooth leaves with toothed margins.

The poisonous effects in livestock usually result from direct consumption of the white snakeroot plants. In humans, poisoning can be caused by consumption of dairy products from cows that have eaten white snakeroot.

4. Rosary Pea

Also called jequirity beans, these piously-named seeds contain abrin, an extremely deadly ribosome-inhibiting protein.

Rosary peas are native to tropical areas and are often used in jewelry and prayer rosaries. While the seeds are not poisonous if intact, seeds that are scratched, broken, or chewed can be lethal.

It only takes 3 micrograms of abrin to kill an adult, less than the amount of poison in one seed. It is said that numerous jewelry makers have been made ill or died after accidentally pricking their fingers while working with the seeds.

Abrin in rosary pea prevents protein synthesis within cells and can cause organ failure within four days.

5. Foxglove

Its bell-shaped flowers are often bright purple but can be white, yellow, or pink. It blooms in the spring. It also has a fruit with lots of seeds, which kids sometimes eat.

 All parts of the flower are poisonous and can slow or disrupt your heart.

In fact, digitalis (a heart medicine) is derived from this plant. When formulated into a medication with a controlled dosage, digitalis is valuable in treating heart failure. It helps a weakened heart pump harder.

People who eat any part of the plant or make tea from the leaves are, in essence, taking an unregulated dose of heart medicine. This can cause the heart rate to slow down or become irregular. Both can be dangerous and life threatening.

6. Mistletoe

This plant lives off of other trees and shrubs, which makes it a parasite. Its stems are thick and easy to break, with lots of branches. The leaves are often thick and stay green all year. Its little yellowish flowers don’t have petals. The small, white berries have one seed and contain a sticky, poisonous pulp.

The berries can give you diarrhea and slow or stop your heart.

All parts of American mistletoe contain a toxic protein called phoratoxin, while European mistletoe contains viscotoxins, which prevent new cells from forming.

7. Oleander

Oleander (Nerium oleander) is a common ornamental evergreen shrub.

All parts of the oleander plant are deadly and contain lethal cardiac glycosides known as oleandrin and neriine.

If eaten, oleander can cause vomiting, diarrhea, erratic pulse, seizures, coma, and death, and contact with the leaves and sap is known to be a skin irritant to some people.

The plant is very bitter.

That's all!

[elsiewritesss]

Hii , can you do a bf Vinnie x gf reader. Where reader is colorblind and tells the house about how much she hates it, a few days later they surprise her with those colorblind glasses?

wait i love this sm ahhh!!!

pairing: bf vinnie x gf reader

warnings: none just fluff

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Babe, I need help.” Y/N whined as she stood in front of the closet looking at her clothes.

“Yeah baby?” Vinnie asked as he walked behind her, hands going to her waist as she let out a sigh.

“What color is this shirt?” She asked, pulling the hanger off the rack as she held it in front of her.

“It’s purple with little blue flowers.” Vinnie responded as she slowly nodded her head, sniffling lightly as she tossed the shirt on the dresser next to her.

Vinnie furrowed his eyebrows as he turned her around, concern filling his face as he saw the few tears travel down her face.

“What’s wrong love?” He asked softly, bringing his hands up to carefully wipe the wetness off her cheeks.

“I just hate this.” She breathed out. When she was 6, she realized she couldn’t see certain colors such as purple, green, and sometimes blue. The colors all looked the same to her. After going to the eye doctor, they confirmed she was colorblind.

When Vinnie and her started dating last year, she felt embarrassed because of it, not knowing how to tell him. He only found out after she picked up what she thought was a green balloon for Jett’s party, but it ended up being a purple one.

From then on she always had Vinnie to tell her the difference between the colors and he was always more than willing to help his girlfriend out.

“I know. But I promise you I’m always here to help you. I love you.” He spoke, gliding his thumb over her cheekbone as he placed his lips to her forehead.

“I love you too.” Y/N whispered back, letting her eyes flutter close at the small action.

~

“So you can’t see the color of my shirt right now?” Jordan asked as Y/N shook her head.

“Okay what color do you think it is?” Evan leaned forward as Vinnie sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Guys enough please.” He spoke, not wanting his girlfriend to get upset or feel like they’re making fun of her.

“It’s okay Vin.” Y/N assured, rubbing her hand over his arm that was wrapped around her neck loosely.

“To me it looks a mixture of blue and gray. Your shirt, the plant over there, and Hera’s mouse toy all look the same color.” Y/N explained, pointing to Jordan’s light purple shirt, the plant by the window, and Hera’s blue little mouse toy.

“Interesting. I thought people who were colorblind only saw gray.” Reggie spoke up, making Y/N shake her head.

“No, I can see other colors. Like I know Vinnie’s shirt is red.” She pointed out, turning to give her boyfriend a small smile.

“Have you ever looked into those glasses they sell? I heard about them a few years ago.” Evan asked as he leaned back in his chair.

“I have. But they’re just too expensive. Plus I have Vinnie here always helping me.” Vinnie smiled, leaning down to plant a kiss on her head.

~

Vinnie paced back and forth around the living room of his apartment. He was waiting for Y/N to get home from work so she could open the gift he got her.

He wasn’t sure she would like it and it made him incredibly nervous.

Suddenly the front door opened making Vinnie stop his anxious pacing as he saw Y/N walk in, looking beautiful as always.

“Hey!” She smiled at him, setting her purse down on the counter before leaning down to pick Hera up as she came running up to Y/N.

“Hi…” Vinnie spoke, slowly walking over to her.

“You okay?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, noticing the way he slowly walked.

“Mhm!” He responded, giving her a slight smile as he leaned down and pecked her lips.

“I got you something. Now…please don’t hate me for this.” Vinnie hesitantly spoke, grabbing the small box from the couch before handing it to her.

“Okay? I don’t think I could ever hate you though.” Y/N said, looking up at him. Vinnie just nodded his head as he gestured to the box.

Y/N stood behind the counter, using a kitchen knife to slice the tape. When she opened the box, her eyes met the smaller white box. She took it out, flipping it over as her eyes scanned over the words.

Enchroma Glasses

Y/N blinked her eyes a few times, making sure she was reading it right before her vision got slightly blurry from her eyes filled up with tears.

“Vin…I…oh my god.” She spoke out softly as she shook her head.

Vinnie walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her middle as she leaned into him.

“Why?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Because, you deserve to see all the colors in the world. Plus if I’m not here you can still tell the difference between colors.” He explained, watching as the tears fell down her face as the words left his mouth. He reached up and wiped her cheeks softly, pressing a small kiss to her forehead.

“I love you.” She spoke, looking into his brown eyes, a color she was always blessed to see.

“I love you too. Come on, try them on.” He patted her hip slightly as she turned towards the box, opening it up to see the pair of glasses inside. The lenses had a slight blue tint to them and Y/N let out a breath before putting them on.

She let her eyes adjust as she looked around the apartment.

“Okay. What color is this?” Vinnie asked, holding up the light blue throw pillow on the couch.

“Blue.” She spoke, Vinnie’s eyes getting bright as he smiled.

“Yes. Um…okay what about this one?” He grabbed her purple water bottle from the counter.

“Purple!”

“Yeah baby!” Y/N felt so overjoyed as she ran to her boyfriend and attacked him with a hug.

“Thank you.” She spoke, her voice laced with sincerity.

“You’re so welcome, my love.” Vinnie responded, leaning down as he connected their lips together.

“Can we go on a walk so I can look at everything?” She asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Vinnie smiled wide.

“Of course. Let’s go!” He said, holding out his hand for her to take as they walked around the city, Y/N looking at all the colors she couldn’t see before.

~

ahhh my first actual post! i hope you all liked it!!!

[1-800-local-slut]

House of Memories (Spencer's Version)

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! FBI! Reader

A look at your life with Spencer through the eyes of his team mates

Warnings: none really, just fluff, the team being observant, adult objects (condoms, alcohol, etc.,), not a warning but a note: reader isn't in the BAU but she works in the FBI, through Emily's POV

“I wasn’t expecting an invite from you, Reid. Thanks for having me over.” The front door to the apartment opened. Emily was holding a bottle of cheap wine that she grabbed from the liquor store down the street when she realized she forgot to bring a house gift. It was a close call too, she was literally driving past it when she realized and had to make a very hasty u-turn. 

“It’s no problem, thank you for coming! Derek, Garcia and Hotch are in the living room, Rossi’s in the bathroom and JJ’s coming late. Her loss though, I think she’d really enjoy Interstellar and if she comes late I know she’s going to complain. Come in, just take your shoes off if you don’t mind.” Emily nodded, after Spencer gave her a light side hug and accepted the bottle from her. 

He wore a white tee-shirt, pajama bottoms, and smelt fresh. His hair was damp as well, like he’d showered a few hours ago but his hair is so thick that it takes a minute for it to dry. She noticed his light shrug, as if it wasn’t his preference but he would take it anyways. 

Ghosting through the threshold, she bent down and slipped off her boots. She heard light chatter, music, smelt a vanilla and sea salt (it was a rough guess) candle burning, and heard the clatter of pots in the kitchen. 

She couldn’t help it, her analytical mind working before she could stop it. Sometimes she would find herself profiling strangers even when it was rude. And profiling your coworker who invited you into his home was very rude. 

Spencer’s shoes were thrown on the floor, one knocked on its side but still close together. As if it was an attempt on his end to be some sort of neat. Pairs of heels, pumps, boots were lined on the shoe rack but after doing a quick count, she noticed something. There were far more womens shoes than there were mens shoes. About six pairs of men's shoes to a 10 women’s shoe ratio.

Aaron, David, Derek make three, and the other three were clearly Spencer’s. Pen’s shoes obviously were one of those female shoes. The bright purple heels sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the browns, blacks, and deep reds of the female shoes. 

‘Enough Emily, stop being rude.’ 

“Your house is beautiful Spencer.” She couldn’t help but look around in slight awe. She wasn’t expecting Spencer’s house to be so…neat? No, that sounds mean. Neat in a way that didn’t seem like it was all Spencer. Sure Spencer’s little unique touches were sprinkled about the apartment and she was still standing at the doorway.

There were pictures of nature hanging on the wall, of a young black woman standing in front of a large pond far from the camera. She wore a pink baseball cap and had her hands flung out as if to emphasize how big the pond was. Who was that? A secret lover? She looked familiar, like a face Emily had seen in passing.

“Oh thanks. I just moved in a few months ago so not everything is fully set up.” Spencer called from the kitchen, and there were three clicks from the stove. Then he slid out, wiping his hands on a towel. As she walked through the house, she noticed more.

Potted plants with lush green leaves, knitted plant holders hanging from the ceiling, a red and dark blue patterned rug on the floor in the hall. From where she stood, she could see there was a small dining area. A nice wooden table, with papers and files scattered all over. 

She found her way to the living room and saw her coworkers engaged in whispers on the couch. More papers and files were on the small tables on either side of the couch, a contrast to the neatness of the rest of the house.

“Hey everybody, what’s up?” Emily asked. Heads snapped towards her, and she noticed Penelope’s eyes curved up in a mischievous grin. 

“Hi! Come sit, come sit.” Penelope motioned next to her, Derek and Rossi sliding over to make room for her. 

“Did you make it in okay?” Hotch asked and Emily nodded while she slipped onto the brown leather sofa. A dark purple hand knitted black was thrown over the back of it. Did Spencer take up knitting or was this just a nice purchase? 

Spencer plopped down into the brown leather armchair and rested his feet on the pouf in front of him. Emily noticed how spotless the glass coffee table in front of them was. 

The whole house was ridiculously clean. The wooden floors sparkled, the carpets meticulously vacuumed, the TV sparkled and the speakers next to the TV were flawlessly dusted. The large oak bookshelf that was up against the wall that was closest to the kitchen was also dusted and the books neatly organized. 

When would Spencer have time to clean his house so thoroughly? They were on a mission all of last week, got back two nights ago and have been at work since then. Sure, it’s Spencer he could just be very clean but the way things sparkled, it was clear they were cleaned merely a few hours ago. 

When they did go home it was late at night and they were back at work early the next day. Did he spend his whole Saturday afternoon scrubbing his floors, and preparing to cook for them? Spencer wasn’t the type to have a housekeeper, especially when he does his work all over and you can’t exactly leave FBI documents in the eye of the eye of a random house keeper.

“Sorry about the paperwork, I still have to set up my study. I have to put up my desk and everything.” Everyone voiced a consolation, some variation of ‘I don’t mind’ or ‘you should see my place’.

“Not the handyman?” Derek teased, wiggling his eyebrows. Spencer chuckled and shook his head. Spencer’s been smiling a lot more lately.

“I like keeping myself out of the hospital. Did you know every 45 minutes a piece of furniture falls on someone, and 25,000 people a year are treated at the hospital for a furniture related incident?” Spencer rattled off, emphasizing the numbers with his fingers.

Before anyone else could say anything, the doorbell rang. Spencer glanced back at the door, before he sprung to his feet with enthusiasm like he was expecting  Emily and Penelope exchanged looks, giggling while Rossi lightly rolled his eyes.

“Of course he knows that. Also, did any of you know that Spencer moved to a new place?” Derek asked.

“Well I knew. I know where all of you live. But it was very considerate of him to invite us over.” Hotch nodded, taking a sip of a bottle of water. Not Spencer’s usual brand but she did notice a switch some time ago. From Purelife to Poland Spring.

“Did you see the coat? Hanging by the door rack?” Penelope whispered, motioning for everyone to come in closer. There was a devilish twinkle in her eyes, her brain working overtime.

“What, you think he has some… extra company? A secret lover?” Rossi chuckled. Of course she noticed, but she just thought it was Penelope’s. 

“Maybe! Do you think?” Penelope asked excitedly, her hands flapping around with enthusiasm. Oh Penelope, ever the romantic. Derek giggled next to Penelope. He was lightly smacked by Penelope as a rebuttal and he giggled as if the slaps tickled him and they heard Spencer’s reapproaching foot steps along with an extra pair of heels. 

They all turned, eager to see who it was. Would it be the woman in the photo? His mom? Someone else?

“JJ!” Emily exclaimed when the final member of their team came in. She twisted around in her seat, happy to see her friend. JJ wasn’t able to make it on their last assignment so it had been a minute since they’d seen her. For people who practically live together, spending almost every moment together while at work was normal. They’d all fallen into a natural balance of being around each other. Of course they’d missed JJ while she was out sick.

“Hi!” She held her arms open for hugs, while the entire team voiced their hellos.

“Sorry I’m late, the grocery store was ridiculous. You wouldn’t believe what I saw, some lady's ex boyfriend came there and she called the cops on him like right there in the store. Apparently, he gave her something on purpose. She got on the speaker and called him ‘Dirty Dick David’. And then they fired her for playing with the mic that way!” She told her story while passing out hugs and then plopped down in the opposite arm chair across from the one Spencer was sitting in before.

“What?” Spencer laughed while he sat back down. 

“Right there it happened.” The whole team was laughing and Emily remembered that this was why she got along with her team so well. The easy laughter was so simple and refreshing.

“Woah, right there is insane! I guess she was sick of him.” Emily leaned slightly into Penny, allowing herself more comfort

“Imagine being at work and your ex who purposely infected you with something shows up to both you? I’d be pissed too.” Derek chuckled.

“I’ve been through three wives and never got a reaction like that, Dirty Dick David certainly had it coming.” Rossi added before they all laughed even harder.

Then there was a loud ringing noise. Spencer’s phone was going off and he patted himself down, lifting himself up checking to see if he was sitting on it. Then he got up, his face making a tiny expression like he could finally recall.

“I’ll be right back guys.” He ran into the kitchen and Penelope pulled everyone into a huddle.

“Okay, here’s what you missed JJ, you ready?”

“I’m ready?” She asked with an arch eyebrow and a nervous smile.

“There’s a bunch of lady stuff around here, like a coat and I don’t know if you saw the shoes but there are a lot of lady shoes. Rossi was in the bathroom and saw a bunch of lady stuff too, like a special face cleanser but he didn’t wanna snoop. I think he should’ve gone for it but whatever. Also I don’t know if you know but I know that Spencer doesn’t cook. 

His house is also really clean like really really clean like it was just clean but when would he have gotten the time to clean it? I mean we got off work like three hours ago. Running theories? Spencer has a housekeeper, a secret girlfriend, or his moms visiting. Got it? Okay, got it.” 

JJ blinked after Garcia’s rapid rundown, Derek nodding like he was able to keep up with that and Hotch all around looked displeased.

“We are guests in Spencer’s home, don’t go looking through his stuff. Maybe Spencer likes that stuff, that’s not any of our concern.” He frowned with a crease in his eyebrows. 

“Yeah Garcia, besides if Spence did get a girlfriend then I think that’s great for him.” JJ chuckled and Derek rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“I’m back! I picked up the shrimp and some wine. I also got some beers if you want any. The coolers are for me, you can have one but don’t take any of the pink ones. I like those ones.”  A familiar voice sounded through the house.

The sound of socks hitting the floor padded through the house and a young woman walked in. The woman from the photo more specifically. Her hair was in long braids that curled around her waist. She was gorgeous, a red scarf was wrapped around her neck to protect her from the chilly winter air. More specifically she was familiar. 

More specifically she was from a different team. More specifically a member of the HRT. The Hostage Rescue Unit. They’ve seen Spencer speaking with her a lot. They’ve teased him for their closeness multiple times, and knew they were a bit closer. But Emily didn’t know they were such close friends. For her to just walk into his home this way.

No offense to Spencer but when Emily said she was hot, she meant she was hot. Like she just stepped out of a magazine. And she never thought Spencer would have it in him to pull. Spencer was certainly nothing to sneeze at but my god was this woman attractive.

She was making her way through the house, to the kitchen lightly waddling. She held a bag of groceries and as if she could feel all the eyes on her she turned. 

“Oh hi! I’m sorry, I ran out to the grocery store. I didn’t realize we ran out of shrimp but the food will be done soon.” She beamed at them and put one of her hands on her hips. And Emily did as profilers do. She profiled even if she didn’t truly mean too. She was wearing pajama pants, and a puffy coat that was zipped open to reveal a white tank top. Above all she radiated joy, confidence and comfort.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Hotch cleared his throat, and she nodded at the members of the BAU.

“You got the shrimp?” Spencer called, coming out of the kitchen, slipping his phone into the pocket of his pants. He came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She instinctively angled her head to his and pushed herself up onto her tippy toes to plant a kiss on his lips.

Penelope was on the verge of exploding, her mouth open in a wide grin. She let out an excited squeal. The two agents jumped upon hearing the high pitched noise and everyone on the couch turned to face her.

“What?! Oh my god, when were you gonna tell us?!” Penelope asked, bounding up from the couch. Spencer looked confused above all as Penelope raced towards him and his apparent girlfriend.

“I didn’t think I had to, we weren’t exactly shy about it.” Spencer laughed as he looked at Penelope basically bouncing up and down in front of him. She giggled and Penelope paused.

“Dude we thought you were just friends?” Derek questioned from the couch. Spencer shook his head, looking more and more shocked by the second.

“So how long has this been going on?” Emily asked with a laugh. She had to laugh! How could she not be happy for Spencer? He looked so happy, he literally hadn’t stopped smiling since she came into the door and they kissed.

“Like a year? I mean, I know we jumped the gun with moving, but my lease was up and I decided that this would work and I couldn’t find anywhere close enough to work. We decided to go for it.” Spencer added, scratching the back of his neck.

“You guys really had no idea? I mean I tell you guys that we go out every weekend, I have a picture of her on my desk. We literally come to work together everyday.” Spencer exclaimed, motioning around with his hands.

“I don't see you that often at work, they probably don’t really notice those things.” She rationalized to him and rubbed a hand over his chest. He never moved his hand from around her waist. 

It all made sense. The candles littered around the house, the small basket of yarn and needles on the floor next to one of the arm chairs. The food even smelt too seasoned to be like anything Spencer could cook, the photos that Emily was just now realizing were taken of Spencer. The romance novel that Emily saw sitting on the glass coffee table. How spotless the entire house was. The shoes, the coat, Emily was just mad at herself for not recognizing the photo.

“Well. Way to go Reid, I didn’t know you had it in you.” She smirked at Derek’s remark and stood on her toes again. She whispered something in Spencer’s ear and he cackled with his mouth open in shock. 

He was turning a bashful shade of red and his voice squeaked as he sent her away. 

“I’ll be finished with your food soon, you guys.” Trailing into the kitchen, Spencer glanced over as if to check if she needed anything.

“Oh gosh, you didn’t have to cook for us! Thank you so much!” Emily exclaimed, realizing that she was just sitting there like a fish with her mouth wide open. 

“Let her cook, why not enjoy dinner and a movie?” Rossi joked. It seemed like the shock had dissipated and JJ giggled, her blonde hair shining like the Sun and Emily noted how her entire face lit up like a star.

“Honey, can you come help me with these groceries?” Spencer nodded, following her into the kitchen. They watched, waiting to watch them fully go into the kitchen. Then like little girls at a sleepover, they leaned back into their huddle. 

“Wow!”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” Hotch tried to keep the peace before his team of impatient agents ran rampant. Emily herself felt like she needed answers and she needed them now. 

“Did you see the way he looked at her? They’re so cute, I had a feeling when he came to work that one time smelling like perfume and wearing the same clothes but they were like all up on each other.” Penelope whispered excitedly. 

“I always knew opposites attract. You know they make a handsome couple too.” The excitement died down for a second and everyone had to look at Rossi. Who even used that phrasing anymore?

“You’re so old, Rossi.” JJ giggled and Hotch shook his head. Rossi smiled playfully, the way he always did when they made fun of him for being ancient.

“What do they even talk about? I mean sure they have stuff in common but for a whole year? I wasn’t expecting that!” Emily exclaimed.

“Reid’s never short on things to talk about.” Derek teased and Penelope swatted him again.

“I mean I noticed he’d been a bit happier but I wasn’t expecting this! I guess you just never know.” JJ added in, glancing over to the kitchen to make sure the two weren’t standing right there. 

“We can find out what they talk about.” No one wanted to admit it but they wanted to snoop so bad. So bad that when Penelope suggested it the best thing to do was to stop talking and be extra quiet so they could hear. Even Hotch, slowly reclined.

Over the clatter of pans, the soft clinking of bottles and things being put away, and dishes being taken out they heard her voice. 

“Emily brought us some wine. Pink.” Spencer’s voice broke through and Emily tensed up. Oh god, what if they hated the wine? 

“Oh my favorite. I’ve always liked that Emily. If it wasn’t for you, I’d go for her.” She laughed and plopped something into what sounded like a liquid. 

Derek made some funny eyebrows at Emily and Emily felt her cheeks heat up. JJ and Penelope both grabbed each other to stifle a laugh. As bad as it was to listen to your teammate and his girlfriend's conversation, they couldn’t stop.

“Aw babe don’t pout.” Then a kissing noise.

“There’s that smile. Also I picked up some condoms, we were down to six and you know we go through those like crazy. Speaking of which, I was thinking, do we really need those? I mean I’m on the pill and at the rate we go we’d save more money just not having sex. To be honest we spend a bit too much money on that stuff anyways and I don’t want to replace another bed frame. I like this one and we literally just got it. That or we just need to stop having sex so often. The call is totally yours but that bitch who works at the front cashier keeps looking at me funny everytime she sees me walk up.” It took a moment for everyone to process what she was talking about. It really took a moment. An identical frown spread over both Rossi and Hotch, and Derek had to put his fist in his mouth to avoid cackling. 

Oh god, this was an awful idea. Now there was just awkward silence. None of them could say anything even if they wanted to.

“So my options are death, death or going raw?” Spencer whined immediately.  Emily focused her eyes on something else instantly, the patterned carpet on the floor, the TV that was showing different scenery as it was in rest mode.

“Oh my god, you are so dramatic! You’re not going to die if we don’t have sexy every day.” The sound of a spoon clattering down and then she broke out into a fit of giggles.

“But how do you know!” He whined again.

“Like I said, it's your choice. It doesn’t really matter to me, I’m just sick of always having to go to the store. And you’re squeezing my ribs.”

“I like your idea. Besides, we have abortion money.” She gasped softly and then broke into light laughter. JJ’s jaw dropped open and Derek snorted before he covered his nose. Of everything that was expected it wasn’t that.

“That’s awful, baby.” She scolded and Emily got a mental image of the two. Was she standing in front of the stove, the smell of food wafting through the house, Spencer standing behind her with arms wrapped firmly around her? If Emily wasn’t so uncomfortable right now her mouth would be watering. It would also warm her heart to hear how happy her friend was.

“I’m sorry.” He joined in on the laughter.

“Oh my god we’re being awful host! Plate up the soup and I’ll pour the wine.”

Once the two came back out, it was hard to even look at Spencer knowing that he had apparently helped break a bed frame. Even if he was holding trays of the most mouth watering gumbo.

“Who wants to watch Interstellar?”

[greenplumbboblover]

Not-a-tutorial - Lighting (Advanced)

Previous parts:

Not-a-Tutorial - Lighting (Basics)

Not-a-Tutorial - Lighting (Basics - Indoor)

Intention:

While dialogues and body language can say a whole lot on what you're trying to tell to the reader, lights can as well! Here's a great example:

(Left is with the lights on, right is with the lights off).

As you can see, the left one feels much more like it's... let's say, a winter-y 6pm, and she's studying in the library...

Whereas on the right, it feels much more like she's skipping on sleep, and it's 3am, studying.

Moods:

You can also use lighting for more tenser scenes! Here are a few examples from my story:

Here the setup was the same, but I added softer rose/red pastel-y colours... (Though this scene did have like 6 lights :p)

Here I not only used a blue backlight for giving it a “night” feeling, but I also added an orange and white front-light to represent a sense of hope and that our poor Ethan isn't alone.

Here I gave Vita and Nick Alto a yellow, green and red lighting setup, to represent more jealous and angry colours for Nancy. As Nancy is staring at them.

However, the pink represents not only the stage light, but also a sense of Innocence given her background of not understanding the entrepreneur game.

Here I gave little Bella a red background and light foreground, keeping the left part of her face dark, as the speech is about the future of the town. And with the light, she represents a bright but unclear future.

Note: all of these images do use Reshade, so trying to get these results without it may look a bit different!

Seasons:

Representing the colours associated with the seasons can give a scene a really cool feeling!

Summer, Spring, Autumn, Winter.

Color mixing:

One thing I thought was pretty cool with TS3's Lighting engine, is how colors in certain highlights will mix just like paint!

Red + Blue looks a bit purple-ish.

Red + Yellow will look a bit orange-y.

Blue and Yellow will turn green-ish at parts.

Custom Coloured Lights

Sometimes, some of EA's colours aren't... quite there. Or really what you need. Here is a short list of colours I've made and used:

0, 150, 255 - Replacement of Cyan (More of a light blue):

0, 163, 108 - Jade

255, 195, 0 (better Yellow)

What's the easiest way to find new colours?

It's pretty easy! If you google for "Colour generator" then there you go! Do make sure to get the RGB values from those websites!

But, for the ones who don't want to google, here are a few suggestions:

Give them a try and see which ones are great! Do go for colours that are quite strong in contrast. Pastel will just end up being white, and darker colours will just turn... well it will look like there is no light on :p

That was it! Hopefully it was insightful, and obviously feel free to add your own discoveries to it! :)

[oneforthemunny]

hockey!eddie, angst, bruises

feel better evie 🫶🫶

"This one looks pretty bad." You muttered, helping Eddie out of his undershirt, sticky with sweat, clinging to his battered body.

You would think he wore no padding with the way his skin looked, blossoming with deep hues of purple, greenish tints haloed around, prominent even under his tattoos. You knew he played rough, he always did. It was his thing, why the fans loved him so much.

Still, it wasn't nearly as fun for you, who had to tend to him afterwards. Who watched in horror every time he was slammed into the glass, body barreled at him by someone much bigger than him, an opponent he haggled until they were checking him.

He'd taken it too far, against the Penguins. Taunting and mocking their defensive center until he sent Eddie flying, a dogpile of a fight that got them both ejected. Only, Eddie's departure was on a stretcher.

Bruised ribs, which you supposed was better than them being broke. Though now, you weren't sure, looking at the mangled mess on his skin.

Eddie grunted, trying to swallow back a cry of pain when you moved his arm. "'S not too bad." He gritted. "Definitely had worse."

You didn't laugh, lips didn't pull in a smile. Instead, you simply pressed the frozen ice pack to his side, ignoring the hiss he gave when the hard, cold plastic touched the throbbing bruise.

"What's wrong?" Eddie sighed, gnawing at his bottom lip. "C'mon, why're you mad?"

Your lips twitched, turning to reach for the gauze. "I wish you wouldn't just go out there and try to get hurt-"

"-I don't try." Eddie huffed, eyes rolling nearly petulantly. "It's just apart of it. You get hurt sometimes."

"You do try." You snapped, every hue of blue, purple, green, red- it infuriated you even more. "You just go out there and piss them off until they're sending you flying. And you always go for the biggest guys-"

"-I can handle them." Eddie boasts defensively, chest puffing lightly.

"But you can't, Eddie." You huff. "He broke your ribs."

"He didn't break them, they're only bruised."

"This time." You snap. "I thought you said you'd be more careful." You sighed, eyes rounding when they met his.

Eddie swallowed down the rising bile in his throat. You looked so disappointed. "I- I'm trying." His pitch raised, just barely but you know better, you knew he was lying.

You sighed, a defeated slump in your shoulders, wrapping the gauze around the ice packs. "Sure, Eddie." You muttered, shaking your head lightly.

"Baby, you know I really can't. I-I have to give the fans what they want, or I-ll get traded or-or cut-"

"-I know, Eddie." Your tone was flat, deadpanned with no fight left. It made Eddie's chest tick, buzz with nerves.

It had become so routine, the fight, you didn't have it left in you to have it again. He knew how you felt, you knew his excuses, it wasn't worth it. Instead, you wrapped his wounds, pressed the ice to his chest until it was comfortable in a tense silence that left a bitter taste in both your mouths.

[zelinkdragons]

Here are two pics I commissioned recently, since I wanted to see how Link might look as an immortal dragon 💖 Thank you so much @eethok and @smugcomputer!

This is an AU where Link got his arm back, but Zelda stayed as a dragon at the end. So she wouldn't be alone, Link became a dragon too using Mineru's Secret Stone.

As the Light/Demon Dragons are called the White/Black Dragons in other languages like Japanese, I decided Link should be the Silver Dragon. Maybe his English name could be something like Knight Dragon, because he’s silver like a sword blade, or the Hyrule knight armour he sometimes wore in the past, and due to him mostly flying at the Light Dragon’s side.

I was more involved in brainstorming aspects of the left pic because I only printed one set of refs. Design info under the cut.

Dragon Link AU | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Dragon Link retains his hair and eye colour like the Light and Demon Dragons do.

Like Farosh he only has one horn, with ‘damage’ resembling the decayed Master Sword.

He has eight eyelashes like the Demon Dragon (the elemental dragons only have six and the Light Dragon has seven), but with some lashes longer to resemble the Sheikah slate symbol. @eethok suggested the eyelashes be blue like Link’s hair tie, and that’s where the Sheikah slate symbol came in. This symbol is also used on the Purah Pad's screen.

He has a canine-like snout to reference Link’s wolf form from Twilight Princess, and the pink patches are vaguely referencing his pink rabbit form from Link to the Past.

His spikes and other accents are green to represent the Triforce of Courage, since the Light Dragon has blue spikes and the Demon Dragon has red ones. Even though this Link wears blue more, he still gotta be green! I tried to choose a shade like the Tunic of the Wild.

His inner eye colour and sclera might change because I haven't fully decided what they should be yet. The Light Dragon's inner eye colour is green and she has purple sclera

I'm not sure if his spine scales would be blue or silver, since the Light Dragon's are gold like her eyelashes, but the Demon Dragon's are black like his scales.

[bouquetface]

SAGITTARIUS RISING:

Planets in first house. Placement & aspects towards chart ruler will all change the accuracy of this description. Lmk if your experience with or as a sag risings.

Appearance

Some believe due to Pluto’s influence from 1995 to 2008, sag rising individuals born during this time are likely to appear scorpio-like. In my experience, these individuals still clearly separate from scorpio risings.

A sag rising is a mutable fire sign. They are likely to often change their style. Make impulsive and/or “wild” choices in life and appearance. For example:

🔥 Sag risings tend to gravitate towards tattoos. Due to their fiery nature, they may get impulsive tattoos. Not as likely to be into the style of one BIG piece of artwork tattoo. More smaller, doodle-like tattoos.

🔥 You know how some people plan out their tatts for months & think about a deeper meaning for the art? Sag rising may have a few of those but they’ll also just get what they want just because they fucking want it. A friend pulls out a tattoo gun at a party, yeah they’re probably down. They don’t need months to think about should i or should i not.

🔥 My sag rising friend once said before getting their tatt, “I don’t need to wait until someone dies, I’m just going to get this because I love Fight Club”. The tatt was loosely inspired by the film.

🔥 Sag risings may gravitate towards hair dye. Unlike other signs, sag rising are more likely to go for unnatural hair colours (blue, green, purple, pink, etc). Due to their mutable nature, they may like changing up their hair colour &/or style more often than most.

This is my experience with GEN Z sag risings. Sag risings born before 1995, are almost nothing like this. They do like to change up their look but not in such bold and permanent ways.

For ex: If they dye their hair, it’s a natural colour (brown, black, blonde, red). More likely to get highlights than full on bleach their hair.

When they get a tattoo, they often get it in a common area of the body. Keep it easy to hide. Less likely to undergo a big, bold, permanent &/or transformative physical change. If they do, they generally keep it hidden.

For ex: I know a sag rising born before ‘95, they have a cosmetic surgery done. However, they keep this a secret. They desire both the big, bold look & the natural look.

An old school sag is more likely to express that abundant nature of their ruler Jupiter through hair. Men and women may have very long hair. Yet, they may wake up one day and randomly decide to buzz it.

Personality

Keep in mind this will be influenced by the ENTIRE chart.

Generally, these individuals are prone to feel FOMO. They love experiences. Better to regret having done it than regret not having done anything is more their motto. They can be the most entertaining people.

They can develop fun, humorous and charming personality. It’s likely for a sag rising to have friends in various places across the world. They make friends every where they go.

Sometimes, they can be identified through their communication style. Their jokes and language can be vulgar at times. They may swear a lot without realizing it. This is strongly affected by their mercury placement though.

This extroverted nature could be affected by other placements. In my experience, when these individuals aren’t extroverted & popular, they deeply desire to be welcomed.

The sag rising purpose is to wander and gather as much as information possible. Explore various places, ideals, people and philosophies.

They are likely to philosophize their lives. Questioning what is the meaning of this event? Why did that happen?

Generally, they are open minded & optimistic. However, if a sag rising feels they’ve come to a good conclusion from their experiences, they can come off as arrogant & close minded.

They can preach their philosophy - this can be perceived as talking too much & being argumentative. An extreme version of this is a cult leader. A more common version is someone who is passionate and wishes to share their knowledge.