#technically he's a silver dragon would you believe it

[starberries-art]

His name is Shōbu, formerly Hanashōbu, he is a dragon magus.

My intent when making a character for Season of Ghosts was "I want to play a disgraced knight character and also I've been watching Frieren and really like it."

And somehow instead I ended up making a pretty dragon man who no less than three people in our group agree is giving "Kurama from Yu Yu Hakusho"

And like, I agree, and I'm not complaining.

[crossingthedreams]

humiliation — aemond targaryen x niece!reader

a/n: bro, for real, i can’t believe i’m posting day 10 - humiliation (@angstober) on the right day. seriously. i’m so fucking proud of myself! anyway, this can be read as a stand alone or a prequel to growing pains (aka day 08). and let me know what you think! 

masterlist

summary: we don’t choose our family, but we choose how we do politics. 

word count: 2k 

warnings: angst. slight sexual harassment. arranged marriage. implied targaryen incest (uncle/niece). aegon is an asshole.

It didn’t matter you were as much of a royal as they, as much of a Targaryen as they were. It didn’t matter if you rode a dragon and had silver hair. You were still the half-sister of Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey, and that was enough for the Greens to treat you like a jester in court. 

Queen Alicent was not blatantly hostile towards you, but she was not friendly either. You saw the way she side-eyed you, that her father looked you up and down. Whilst her quarrel was with your mother, the Hand’s mind was much more cunning. He saw you as a piece not yet allocated in his board. Fortunately for him, you were sent as a bona fide present to court after your mother relocated to Dragonstone.

Your grandsire, the King, barely looked at you. Of course, he was terribly ill. Still, you were certain he just didn’t like the reminder his daughter was wed to, and clearing bedding his brother. 

As a young woman of a certain age, you knew whenever someone did the math, it was clear your parents conceived you before they were properly wed. The timeline was confusing, and you were undoubtedly the child of Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon, but were they or were they not wed at the time of your birth? Were you a bastard in technical terms?

To you, it didn’t matter at all. For some, well, that was a point of conversation constantly brought up. 

“Uncles and their nieces seem not to be bound by rules of wedlock, isn’t that right, Princess?”, a drunken Aegon moved his hand towards your leg at the dinner table. You slapped it away instantly, frowning towards him. 

His mother sighed, and his wife wasn’t paying attention.

“Prince Aegon, you ought to respect the Princess”, Otto Hightower said. You read between the lines. Her father will assassinate you. Your own father will disown you. 

Your gaze met Otto’s, and you nodded once, recognizing his attempts at decency. 

“Please, grandfather”, Aegon’s hand moved towards your face, and you deflected. He still managed to toy with a single lock of your hair. “She likes it”.

Once more, you removed his hand. Right now, silence was your finest ally. Enticing Aegon would only make him grow angry towards you or worse, take it out on sweet Helaena. How could Aegon be such an arse? His siblings sure weren’t as terrible.

Helaena was a good friend, and ever since giving birth she had grown even kinder, albeit a little weird. You and Daeron were closer in age, and he was ever courteous. 

And then there was Aemond. You had never seen a man so torn between the darkness and the light within themselves, except only, perhaps, for your own father. And when it came to your father, you only ever saw the good in him, and these horrible things he supposedly did were only stories. That wasn’t the case with Aemond.

You had seen him come and go from brothels, harm servants unnecessarily and even have you at the end of his insults. He could be a monster, prone to humiliating your brothers or even you yourself when he was threatened, and he seemed glad in causing chaos. 

But he was also loving. He would defend you from Aegon and others sometimes, even. He was the first to take you dancing, and he would be on the floor with you even past his feet hurt. He had taken it upon himself to make sure you became fluent in High Valyrian, a task your mother herself had given up on. After you first claimed a dragon, he flew many times with you, and all of the smallfolk made sure to watch when you took the skies together, as it was quite the sight. 

You were expecting him to defend you from Aegon right now, instead, he just quietly moved his food around his plate with his fork. 

“I often wish we could go back to Sunspear, Helaena”, you changed the subject. Your aunt, who seemed to be in a totally different world, looked at you alarmed. “Do you remember?”, you continued, stretching to see over Aegon and look directly into your aunt’s eyes. “The weather agreed with me much more than the rain”.

“Maybe we could see Daeron, too”, Helaena seemed excited for once. You didn’t have it in you to tell her Sunspear and Old Town were a far ride from each other.

“We should take the Cannibal and Dreamfyre and go”, you said, already smiling at the prospect. The smiles died when you mentioned your dragon, who seemed to be aggressive to all but you and, eventually, Vhagar.

“Oh, dear, I don’t think either of you should leave now”, Queen Alicent stated, voice sweet. 

“And why’s that, mother?”, it was Aemond’s turn to speak, for the first time during the whole supper. His head turned to look at his mother, who was in her usual seat besides the King’s seat, which lay empty. Viserys was much too ill and in too much pain. “Associating your daughter with the scandalous child of a scandalous mother is crossing a line?”.

The silence was deadly. 

You knew Aemond well enough to know the problem wasn’t with Helaena and you dreaming of Dorne.

Your eyes darted from Aemond to Alicent, and then to Otto. They all knew something they didn’t let out yet.

And every bone in your body told you — whatever it was they weren’t letting out, well, it was about you. 

Aemond stood up like a bolt and excused himself, marching angrily away. 

You had to find out what was going on, but leaving now would only bring more attention to both you and the matter, and it also meant dealing with an aggravated Aemond. Bad idea. 

After dinner, waiting until the dead of night and sneaking into your Uncle’s room to get the truth out of him? Sounds perfectly reasonable. 

Aemond was sitting, looking unbothered. You walked in from the secret passageway that connected most of the Red Keep, and he didn’t seem surprised at all. He looked like a true Targaryen Prince.

“Took you long enough”, he was examining his nails, and then his one lilac eye turned towards you. 

“I wasn’t aware we had an arrangement”. 

“Yet here you are”. 

You smiled softly, not showing any teeth. A conversation like this with Aemond could go in any direction, and, with your experience, you knew it was best to appear submissive.

“You have been informed your name is a constant in the Small Council, haven’t you, niece?”.

You raised your eyebrows, entering his chambers nonchalantly. With the King’s health deteriorating and talks of succession rising once more, you, the daughter of the heir apparent, were as valuable as gold. Of course you knew you were talked about often, and Aemond knew this as well. Therefore, you didn’t reply. He wanted to make a point, so he was going to make it. 

“There’s been talks about your future”, Aemond continued, leaning forward as you sat across from him in the room. “Matrimonial matters have been raised”.

You gasped. You tried not to, but you did. Your mother swore you would have a say in who your husband was. Surely she hadn’t delegated this matter to the Queen. Which meant you would be given as a shine prize to a nobleman, and he would consummate the marriage before your mother was even made aware of it. 

You felt sick. 

“Don’t worry. Aegon is not taking a second wife”, the smile could be heard in Aemond’s voice. You scoffed and turned to him.

“Is that all?”

“My grandfather wished to have you wed Daeron”. Your eyes widened. Certainly not a good match. Daeron was kind and sweet, but he lived distantly. You would not be sent to Old Town, there’d be no convincing you of that. “My mother opposed, of course”.

“How could the always just Queen Alicent have her child married to the child of the ‘scandalous’ princess Rhaenyra, right?”, you mocked and copied his words from dinner earlier. Aemond constantly looked angry, but now he looked just annoyed.

“There’s that, yes. Also, it’s not politically wise”, he continued. “Cregan Stark would be a better match, perhaps even a dornish man, since you seem so fond of those wildlings”. 

“Make your point, Uncle. Who am I to marry?”

“It hasn’t been decided”, he turned to you. “There’s a problem with your family, you see”.

“Our family”, you corrected. Whether he willed it or no, Aemond Targaryen was the younger brother of your mother, and he would have to live as such. 

Your uncle’s eye narrowed, then went back to normal. Sitting across from each other, you seemed almost the same height. His gaze went from your eyes to your neck, then chest, then covered legs, darting upwards to the ceiling quickly as he let his body fall even more on the sofa. He breathed deeply. “Yes, dear niece. Our family”.

“You should take me”, you said, without thinking. You thought too much, and a marriage between the Greens and the Blacks would be interesting for both, assuring both sides of the family were united. Wasn’t that the way your family did business? Marrying off their daughters? 

Out of this entire planet, Aemond was the only man you’d met that you’d be willing to marry. The rest were brutes, disgustingly aggressive or simply dumb.

From the look in his eyes, you knew Aemond was thinking about it. Your breath got caught in your throat. He surely had thought about it before, right? You were a beautiful girl, you knew this, and Aemond had a thing for women with silver hair. All men in King’s Landing wished they could have you, why would Aemond be any different? 

You kept forgetting that Aemond was, in fact, different. 

“I couldn’t wed you, niece”, he said, mouth a thin line. Your heart was racing in your chest. “What would we have? Not the throne, not even Dragonstone”. 

“Each other”, you replied harshly, fighting the tears in your eyes. “We’d have each other”.

“That’s not enough”.

The sheer humiliation that you felt was enough to make you stand up and motion towards the door. But you couldn’t leave through the front door, could you? Your reputation would be ruined forever.

So, with your heart simultaneously beating fast and not beating at all, you just stood there in the middle of Aemond’s chambers. You didn’t want to look back at him, but you had to turn to make your way out where you came.

You hadn’t heard Aemond, who quietly made his way to you, and was now towering above you. Your eyes locked, breaths mixing. If you were to stand on your tiptoes, your lips would almost reach his. Almost.

The problem with Aemond was this constant streak of ‘almosts’. You were sure his reasons for not marrying you were political more than anything else, and it pained you to know that the legitimacy of your brothers was a matter even now, when yours wasn’t. Your mother and her decisions… It had humiliated you once more. 

Your heart was beating so loudly you feared he could hear it from this distance. Still close enough so you could feel his breath, Aemond muttered in Valyrian, even though you were alone “Ao issi naejot jikagon sir (You should go now)”.

Quietly, with feelings of humiliation and something else you couldn’t quite name, you stepped away as you did as your uncle commanded, and left. 

[flmer]

★ oh no! it's the baby apocalypse! (2) ┊ wc:

content: talks of baby stuff, crackfic?

pairings: idia & malleus x gn!reader. (seperated)

note! I finally did the part 2! although the last part would be Kalim and Jamil.. This was stuck in my drafts and I just noticed now. part 1

idia.

idia is the type of dad to spoil his child since he doesn't really know what else to do, he isn't used to saying affectionate words but he does make it up by spending time with the child and spoiling them.

I believe that idia has some experience in handling kids because of ortho so he wouldn't technically be completely clueless about fatherhood. (also there's a chance that he watched those family animes)

when he first saw his child, he froze. he froze like an ice statue because he's in shock like wow?? is that really his baby?? (the baby literally has his fire hair.)

he's awestruck because of how adorable the baby looks and not to mention how cute it is... idia promises that he'd do anything to make his child smile

he spends his free time bonding with his child by watching numerous animes and playing games that's child friendly of course, even though the child could barely talk... but it is quite endearing to hear the nonsensical babble of your child and idia nodding along with whatever they just said as id he understands them.

“I probably won't be able to buy that much merch anymore... unless I make my child enjoy gaming and anime >:) ”

malleus.

he would isolate his child without knowing he's isolating his child inside his castle. it was how he was raised but his child won't be completely isolated just protected. malleus wants his child to not have the same childhood like the one he had.

malleus would be king by the time he had a child but that doesn't mean his child would rarely see him, no. malleus grew up without experiencing his mother and father’s presence in his childhood that's why he makes sure his child always sees him. malleus's child would practically be in the throne room playing with toys and malleus's tail and also talking gibberish nonsense with the guards that's stationed in the throne room mostly silver and sebek. the scenario goes like this: malleus on his throne listening to silver and sebek's reports while his eyes sometimes stray to his child and his mouth would twitch and turn upwards- the reason was because his child is now currently munching on silver's long cloak while their hand was occupied with grasping sebek's pants. it was an eandering sight.

the first time he saw his child, he cried. the fearsome dragon fae king was shedding tears like a newborn baby and it was because of the mere sight of his child. when the child first opened their eyes- malleus saw his own striking electric green eyes staring right back at him and that was what made him have a wide smile on his face as his child reaches for his horns with their small closed fists.

lilia sometimes makes sure to visit just so he could spend some time with his precious grandchild, yes, his bangs got burned again by a similar green fire that came out of the mouth of the baby he's holding. malleus saw this happen and his reaction was to chuckle while sebek fretted over lilia's now smoking bangs but lilia only waved him off saying that he's used to it by now, and silver is just standing there with a soft smile on his face.

malleus takes you and his child out every night to walk with him in a forest that malleus used to go to back when he was a child whenever he feels overwhelmed with his feelings. the forest is a beauty with it's thorned vines that seems to wrap around trees, there were also some glowing fairies lingering and lighting the beautiful forest. the forest was the meaning of peace and beauty.

malleus hums a familiar lullaby that he used to sing for you back when you both were still at nrc, his hands caressing you and your child's hair as he wraps his arms around the both of you protectively as if the both of you would disappear out of his arms.

[humanpurposes]

It Will Come Back

Chapter 3, Broken Bonds

Two sides of a family fight for their own claims to the Targaryen inheritance. Amongst the endless infighting, forced pleasantries and PR scandals, Jaya Velaryon finds herself face to face with a demon of her past, namely Aemond Targaryen. Love and hate are not emotions easily unlearned.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Jaya Velaryon (OFC)

Warnings: 18+, dark elements, targcest (uncle x niece relationship) toxic family dynamics, angst, mentions of violence and trauma

Words: 7.4k

A/n: Also available to read on AO3, if you're that way inclined.

Now…

The heat is relentless this summer. Light bleeds through the stained glass windows of the Red Keep in beams of red, green, blue and gold, only to be lost to the dark wood floors, furniture and panelled walls. It is Aemond’s least favourite time of year, when the weather makes him irritable and the harsh light gives him a headache, when business tends to be busy and everyone is preoccupied with holidays and garden parties. He’s less inclined to distract himself with frivolity. 

His sleeves are rolled up, his long silver hair pulled into a ponytail, sweat starting to pool underneath the eyepatch over the left side of his face. He’s leaning over Aegon, one hand on the back of his chair, staring down at a laptop screen as they check over some details for next week’s event.

It’s not often Aemond finds himself in his brother’s office. Technically Aegon is his superior, ‘deputy operations manager’ according to the golden plaque on the door. This is more of a courtesy title because he couldn’t get a respectable job anywhere else, and it would be far worse for their father’s image to have a layabout son.

That’s the funny thing about the family business. It’s no secret that Viserys Targaryen didn’t want his sons involved in Dragon Bank, but his influence is not as all encompassing as he would like to believe, not since the Hightowers got a foot in the door thirty or so years ago… then another… then another. Viserys can make his demands and shout when he’s angry enough, but there is one truth he cannot deny; he needs them. He needs Otto. He needs Alicent. He needs Helaena and Daeron to stay perfect. He needs Aegon to not be a fuck up and that’s enough. And he needs Aemond because he’s good at his job. No one has an eye for detail like him, no one can make sense out of figures or persuade clients and investors like he can.

Why their grandfather wants him to look over PR and marketing nonsense is understandable, but irritating nonetheless.

Their father has been planning this event for years, Dragon Bank’s fifth centenary gala, with all the pomp and grandeur of a bygone era, held at their ancestral seat of Dragonstone Castle, just outside the city. Five hundred years since one of their ancestors forged a throne for himself in King’s Landing, building an empire that still has most of the country under their family’s thumb. Viserys intends to use the occasion as a reminder to the rest of Westeros that they cannot compare to the might of the Targaryens. So there can be no oversights. Everything has to be perfect.

Aemond’s eye scans over the diagram on the screen, circles surrounded boxes with names; the seating plan for the main ballroom.

Then a name catches his eye and it makes his heart stop. He doesn’t want to believe what he sees but there it is on the screen, in Times New fucking Roman: Jaya Velaryon.

He’s hardly heard that name, read it, or heard it in six years. He can already feel a dull ache creeping into his skull, which he knows will catch like kindling and soon become a burning, blinding pain behind the space where his eye should be.

Aegon, completely oblivious, huffs a little laugh to himself. “Shit, yeah, I meant to say there was an update with the seating. So this could turn out to be quite interesting– fuck, are you alright?” 

“Fine!” Aemond snaps, staggering back from the chair. His head feels like it’s been run through with a knife and his fingers fumble to get his eyepatch off. “Fine– fuck! I’m fine.”

“Sit,” Aegon orders, quickly standing and guiding Aemond over to one of the leather sofas on the other side of the room, where the sunlight isn’t so direct.

The pain is often like this, striking suddenly, spreading quickly like a forest fire, eating away at him like a disease. He has no choice but to endure it.

He feels the eyepatch slip from his face before something cold presses against the worst of his scar. He reaches up to clasp his hands around it. A glass water bottle, one Aegon is holding. His brother is useless most of the time but he does have his moments.

“Fuck it’s all red,” Aegon mutters. “Have you got meds with you?”

When Aemond opens his mouth to speak his jaw is trembling. “Office,” he says, gritting his teeth together, trying to control his breath and the extent of the pain. “It’s in my office.” He can see where the packet is in the first draw under his desk.

“I can go and get you some–”

“No,” Aemond says, grabbing Aegon’s arm so he won’t move. 

He can handle this. Every time this kind of pain flares up he thinks of how much it hurt that night, how terrified he was as he felt the blood gushing from the gash in his eye, slipping through his fingers. The pain had been so great he thought it might kill him. If he can get through that night, the first few hours in the hospital, the months of recovery or the years since, then he can get through a fucking headache. 

He closes his eye and breathes in counts of three. In through the nose, hold, and out. Between that and the bottle against his face, the pain starts to feel a little duller and the room doesn’t feel so close.

“Is it… you know,”

Did seeing Jaya’s name shock him so severely that his body went into meltdown? Is his heart still pounding in his chest at the thought of reading her name and the possibility of seeing her again? 

Aemond exhales irritably against the back of his throat, defeated, but always stubborn.

“I thought you knew,” Aegon says. “Mum said she was going to talk to you.”

“Evidently that conversation is yet to happen.” Maybe it was meant to happen tonight. It’s a Friday which means Aemond will go to his mother’s apartments in the Keep for dinner after work.

It’s a struggle but he breathes through the worst of it, and blinks a tear from his eye. The pain hasn’t quite faded but something else burns hotter through his blood. He clenches his jaw and his fists. “How long have you known?”

Aegon makes a startled stuttering noise. “I– well–”

Aemond glares at him.

“A few days. The note came from Rhaenyra’s office on Monday or Tuesday, I can’t really remember–”

“Grandfather knew,” Aemond says, a question, but he can guess the answer. If it involves Dragon Bank or a member of the Targaryen family, Otto Hightower will know.

“Of course he knew. He said it was a last minute decision, one that Viserys was insisting we all bend over backwards to accommodate.”

Of course he would, anything for the precious daughter of his favourite child, the girl who slashed Aemond’s eye out with a broken bottle. 

He hates her for it. He hates every burst of pain, like an echo of that moment pulsing through his head. He hates every person he catches staring at him, he hates the way his reflection looks with her cruelty carved into his flesh. Most of all he hates that it reminds him of her. In a way he is grateful too. Time helped to heal the wound and eventually he realised how he had been changed by that night, how it made him the person he is now. 

But for the first time in a long time he does not find any pride in it, cowering in his brother’s office like a child at the mere mention of her name. 

“I can’t go,” Aemond says, hating how quiet his own voice is.

“That’s alright,” Aegon says, “you can sit here for as long as you need.”

“I meant the party.”

“Oh right, sorry.”

“I can’t go, not if she’s going to be there.”

There’s a long silence, filled only by the hum of the AC and the distant sounds of the city far below the keep, car horns, engines, sirens, the occasional cry of a seagull.

“Why don’t you talk it through with mum?”

“Aegon,”

“She’ll want you to go. She’ll be upset if you don’t.”

“I can’t,”

“I know you two were close, but, you know, I’m sure you both regret how things happened,” 

“Aegon, for fuck’s sake,”

“She cut out your eye, you said you’d cut out hers if you ever saw her again, we were all caught up in the moment.”

Aemond pushes up from the sofa and tosses the water bottle at Aegon’s head, not stopping to see if he caught it or not, before he’s yanking open the door and marching into the hallway.

The Red Keep is older than Dragon Bank itself, a red brick holdfast that has loomed proudly over King’s Landing for centuries, even as the skyline of the city has come to meet over time. It’s easy to get lost here, with its grand hallways, winding staircases and hidden passages, if old rumours are to be believed. He knows this place like he knows his own mind. He walks to his office through empty stairwells and forgotten corridors.

When he finally makes it to his own office he closes the door and lets his back fall against it.

He takes a slow breath, holds it, pouts his lips and exhales steadily. 

Who else knows? Viserys would have sent the invitation, Rhaenyra and the rest of her little runts will know. Otto knows, clearly his mother and Aegon both know, and he couldn’t have kept that secret, he would have told Helaena or Daeron, most likely both.

Everyone knows. Jaya is coming back home to King’s Landing, and everyone knows but him.

His mother told him everything when she thought he was ready to hear it. The bandages had been removed from his face and the cannula had been taken out of his hand. The doctors wanted him to stay in the hospital for a few more days so all the drugs could wear off and he could start getting used to the disorientation of losing half his vision. Alicent wanted him home, in his own bed. So he left the dry air and the white overhead lights of his room in the hospital, back to Dragonstone.

She told him that while he’d been on his knees with his hand over his face, trying to stop the blood and the remains of his eye from spilling onto the ground, Viserys had barked out his orders. He didn’t want ambulances or sirens because it would cause a scene in front of the guests. The shame, the damage it would do to the family’s image. Otto had persuaded him away from such a nonsensical idea and convinced Viserys to get the guests inside the house so Aemond and Jace’s injuries could be seen to.

He remembered shouting and sirens, blue lights and his mother’s hand clinging onto his before he blacked out. He had gone in for surgery almost immediately and woken the following evening surrounded by white walls, his mother and Criston Cole at his side.

Aegon, Helaena and Daeron all stayed at Dragonstone while he was there. They said once he and Jace had been taken away, Viserys had gathered the entire family inside the house. With their faces all still red from crying and Jaya’s pretty white dress still coated in blood, he demanded to know the truth. 

They all knew what the truth was. Jace didn’t know his limits and Aegon didn’t care about his.

He could see it all happening in his head, walking towards the orchard with Jaya and Baela, catching Jaya when she tripped over a stone, her tipsy smile as she looked up at him, the pearl and the sapphire pendant settled against her chest.

Who knows what started the argument between Jace and Aegon, but suddenly Aemond had found himself between them.

“There he is,” Jace had sneered, but his voice quickly raised into a shout, “‘perfect’ Aemond Targaryen, fucking mummy’s boy, thinking he’s some kind of fucking diplomat!”

Aegon tried to shout back, “more of a man than you’ll ever be,” Aemond couldn’t make out everything through the way his voice slurred.

“Not so fucking perfect though, are you? You’re no worse than Aegon– no! You’re so much worse, aren’t you? Aren’t you!?

He’d watched Jace’s expression darken, his lips sneering into a sickening smile.

“You’ve got my sister wrapped around your fucking finger, fucking creep.”

He told himself Jace was just drunk. It didn’t matter what he thought… only it did. Jace could tell Rhaenyra or Viserys. Worse, he could talk to Jaya. She had always been devoted to her twin. She had picked Jace over Aemond before, in petty arguments when they were children. 

“You want her, don’t you? Don’t you!? She’s too good for you though, and you know it. You want her but you’ll never fucking have her!”

When Aemond’s fist collided with Jace’s jaw it was on pure instinct. He was sober enough to stop himself but he didn’t. He just kept going.

According to Aegon, when Viserys came to Jaya, she said that it was Aemond who had started the argument. Jace was in the orchard with the others, when Aemond had come from nowhere and threw the first punch. She had seen it, so had Baela, so had Luke and Joffrey. It was their word against Aegon and Daeron’s.

The official story was that it had been a tragic accident, one in which Rhaenyra’s children were certainly blameless.

She called him the night he got to Dragonstone but he let the phone ring. A week later she appeared in the doorway to his bedroom. She was hazy, or he was still delirious from sleep, his mother hovering over her shoulder, reluctant to leave them alone together.

He doesn’t remember most of the conversation now. He doesn’t want to remember it. He knows it ended with tears streaming down her cheeks, but her face was completely still. She didn’t flinch, didn’t distort her face, scrunch her nose or make an ugly shape with her mouth. She looked utterly beautiful and cried effortlessly. It wasn’t fair when he still had stitches sewn into his flesh to keep the left half of his face in place.

At one point she approached the bed and tried to touch his hand. He snatched it out of her grasp. When she tried again he pushed her away.

“Why did you do it?” she said. “You attacked Jace, why? Why? Why? Why?”

Because Jace could have taken away the one thing he thought was his, by right, by love. Instead he gave some bullshit excuse– Jace had threatened Aegon, insulted Daeron, insulted him. And what did it matter anyway? Viserys believed her. 

He needed her. He needed her and she pushed him away and cradled her coward of a brother in her arms. He needed her and she’d thrown it all back in his face with a slash of a broken bottle. He needed her, but she had made her decision.

“Liar,” he hissed. “You’re a fucking liar.”

He saw it in her face then, her desire to fight melting away. To Aemond that had always meant that she knew he was right.

“Show up here again, utter so much as a word to me again, and I’ll tear yours out as payment for mine.”

Some weeks later Aegon mentioned that she had abandoned her plans to go to KLU and instead found a place at the University of Pentos. She never tried to call after that and neither did he.

A layer of sweat clings to his skin and makes him shiver. He shrugs it off as he sits down at his desk, and spots a handwritten note sitting beside the keyboard of his laptop. Investment figures for Seasnake Shipping back to me by 7pm at the latest. Knowing Otto Hightower, that means an hour before the specified time.

In for three, hold for three, out for three. It always amazes him how well that trick works, he thinks as he takes out a packet from the top drawer of his desk and pushes out two tablets, the one good thing he’d gotten out of his year of therapy. He swallows the medication dry, suddenly regretting throwing away the bottle of water.

It’s nearly 6pm when Aemond has everything his grandfather wants, the names of Seasnake’s investors, the other companies they’re attached to, numbers and details he’s found buried in endless spreadsheets and pages of paperwork. He shouldn’t be able to see most of them but he has his ways. The Velaryons have been in business with the Targaryens for centuries and there are always trails to follow. 

A few familiar names appear, Rhaenyra Tagrayren, Daemon Targayren, married to each of Corlys’ children. Aemond was only a year old when his sister married Laenor, but he’s always known how sceptical his mother and grandfather were of the match. It wasn’t something Rhaenyra had to do. She wasn’t going to inherit Seasnake, that had been promised to Laena, the elder sibling, and she was already Viserys’ chosen heir, so what did she think she was going to get out of it? Not a loving husband, surely.

Other investors and partners include the names Stark and Arryn, both wealthy and well established families. He also sees the names Celtigar, Massey, Bar Emmon, old names, though not as respected as they once were.

He leaves a note for his grandfather at the top of the document: Seasnake is being directed by a man who built his wealth to match his own pride, supported by opportunists with more money than sense.

With that task done he opens a new email to inform his father’s office that he’ll be absent from the event. He types it quickly and reads over it once before he can talk himself out of pressing send. He doesn’t give a reason why; Viserys should know why.

This leaves him just enough time to pack up and get ready for dinner.

The Red Keep has a series of apartments separated from the offices, where Aemond spent most of his childhood. The building is known as the Holdfast, with its own gatehouse leading into the city and gardens surrounded by high red brick walls. Historically it was built to house the extensive members of House Targaryen, but it is mostly empty now. His mother has had her own apartment for a few years, since Daeron moved out. The only one of his siblings to still live here now is Aegon, at Alicent’s insistence. 

Walking from his office to the Holdfast brings him through courtyards and underneath old battlements, until he comes to a facade with towers, tall windows and an unsuspecting wooden door, save for the armed guards standing either side of it. His mother’s apartments are on the first floor, along a gallery and up the grand staircase, past portraits and tapestries. The hallways get smaller the further in you go and soon he comes to the private rooms.

Alicent often dismisses the staff on quiet Friday evenings. The minute he’s in the door he is met with the sound of one of her 80s playlists, the scent of spices and her favourite lemon and lavender candles. He finds her in the kitchen, dark blue jeans, a white shirt, black pumps and her auburn curls pulled into a bun to show off her pearl earrings, stirring two pots on the stove. 

“Criston’s got me learning another one of his recipes,” she says, only looking at him for a moment, “I’ve got rice on too, so I hope you’re hungry.”

Aemond approaches her to kiss her on the cheek and takes a look inside the pots, one filled with chickpeas, the other with black lentils. “Is Aegon here?” he says.

“He’s in the lounge, tell him to set the table.”

Aemond watches her, entirely absorbed in the notebook on the counter next to the stove, with handwritten instructions. Nothing seems to be especially bothering her, even though the centenary event has had her on edge for over a month. She looks no different from the last time he saw her, before he knew about Jaya, when she was supposed to talk to him, supposedly.

“I want a drink first,” he says, whisky with no ice. He pours it for himself slowly while his mother hums along to Tears for Fears. “Do you know why grandfather wanted that information on Seasnake’s investors?” 

“Hmm? Oh he’s probably doing one of his checks, you know what he’s like. Good to keep an eye on everyone,” she says. She has a glass of red wine next to the notebook, though by the looks of it she’s hardly touched it. “He said something interesting about Rickon Stark recently, his son Cregan is in King’s Landing.”

Aemond pulls his glass away from his lips, the sweet sting of alcohol slipping down his throat. “Shouldn’t be too unusual, they’re attending next week.” Staying at Dragonstone no less, some of Viserys’ most honoured guests.

“He’s staying at Queen’s Lodge.”

That takes him by surprise. “Hmm,” he says, bringing the glass to his lips again.

“He and Jacaerys are quite close, Aegon tells me.”

The Starks had visited Dragonstone once or twice as summer guests, back when they were all kids. Cregan was always talkative and effortlessly charming, but it was obvious to Aemond that his warmth was far more calculated than anyone else believed. He made sure Jaya kept her distance, but Jace followed him around like a lost puppy for the weeks he’d stay with their family.

They would have studied together at White Harbour, though Cregan was a few years older than Jace. They could have met again and reconnected. Aemond doesn’t interact with his nephew outside of necessity.

“And what would Aegon know about it?” he says.

“More than you,” a voice calls from the doorway. Aegon has ditched his suit for brown cargos and a comically baggy sports shirt, leaning against the frame. “Ran into them last weekend,” he says, grinning coldly and running his tongue over his teeth. “The Starks are making some close personal connections with our sister’s family.”

“Don’t be vulgar,” Alicent sighs.

Aegon scoffs and makes a dismissive gesture. While their mother is still distracted, he looks at Aemond and raises his eyebrows. 

“Set the table, Aegon,” Aemond grumbles.

His brother does as he’s told. Aemond helps Alicent bring the dishes in. She sits at the head of the table, Aemond to her right, Aegon opposite him, to her left. She says a quick prayer to the Seven, as she always does. She asks the Mother to protect her children and asks the Crone for wisdom, for a light in dark and uncertain times. 

“Speaking of close personal connections,” Aegon says, already having wolfed down half of his plate. Aemond already hates the tone of this conversation. “We’ll finally get to meet Daeron’s new bit,”

“Do you have to say it like that?” Aemond says.

Aegon ignores him. “Are you excited to meet Nettles, mother?”

Daeron talks about her constantly. They met in Oldtwon while they were both studying. Now he’s working for the Citadel Institute, she’s some kind of journalist, and they live together in a perfect little flat that looks out over the Honeywine river. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

“That can’t actually be her name, surely?” Alicent says.

“Perhaps it’s short for something,” Aemond says, prodding his food now to find himself with no appetite. He thinks about the drive he’ll have to make through the city, back to the empty house waiting for him on Silverwing Square.

“Nettles,” Aegon says, eyes on the ceiling like he’s trying to decipher a hidden meaning. “Nettles, like stinging nettles?”

“Oh, Aemond,” Alicent says, looking down at the uneaten food on his plate, “what happened with Maris Baratheon, why is she not on the final guest list?”

Aegon smiles, folding his elbows on the table and leaning forward, eager to hear an explanation like he hasn’t already coaxed it out of Aemond over too many bottles of wine at a steak restaurant on Conquest Street.

“Things didn’t work out with Maris,” Aemond says shortly. An understatement. The thought of their last conversation makes him nauseous.

“Aemond, sometimes I feel like you don’t love me.”

“I don’t think I do,” which felt untruthful, because he knew from the start that he never would. There were lots of things he liked about Maris. He liked that she was interested in him, he liked that she was blunt and unrelentingly honest, he liked that she had dark hair, and that she liked being fucked from behind and would let him press her face down into the pillow to muffle her moans. Soon the things he liked about her only felt like another reminder.

“Maris is old news, mother,” Aegon says.

“What a shame,” Alicent says, reaching for her wine again. “Oh well, I don’t think Viserys particularly likes her father anyway.”

“Well you know Aemond, always striving for perfection.”

Aemond’s eye meets Aegon’s over the table. His brother is trying not to grin, violet eyes bright from the light of the candelabra between them. Shadows catch on the hollow parts of his face, it makes him look tired but vicious. 

Then he looks to his mother. She eats slowly with small mouthfuls, not making eye contact with either of her sons. It’s not often he finds himself upset or angry with his mother, not since he was old enough to understand just how hard she has worked, or know what she’s had to put up with as the wife of Viserys Targaryen. Aemond knows she trusts him in a way that does not always extend to his siblings. 

But now all he can think is that she knows about Jaya. She knows, and she won’t even look at him.

Jaya could be in King’s Landing this very moment, lounging around Queen’s Lodge, looking out over the orchard she watered with Aemond’s blood while her mother fawns over her only daughter’s return.

He just needs to say it. He won’t go to Dragonstone if Jaya is there, he won’t stand to be in the same room as her, or breathe the same air as her. The thought already sends a feeling like flames licking up his spine that makes him restless with rage, with hurt and betrayal.

Aegon is still watching him and gives him a small nod. 

Aemond takes a soft breath through parted lips–

Until a sound comes from the hallway that makes them all freeze, the sound of the front door unlocking, opening, then slamming with an ear splitting bang!

Aemond feels his face harden, brows straining with every footstep that marches against the hardwood floors towards the dining room. 

Viserys appears in the threshold, dressed in one of his red and black suits, his face one of stone cold fury. He doesn’t look at Alicent, or Aegon, his eyes are fixed on Aemond.

He steps slowly into the room, placing one hand on the back of the chair closest to him at the head of the table, miles away from the rest of his family. His voice is quiet and clear through the stunned silence. “What the fuck are you playing at?”

Alicent makes a stuttering, scoffing noise. “Viserys–”

He holds up a finger to silence her, his eyes widening in warning. “Aemond,” he says, “you will answer me.”

Aemond keeps his jaw clenched at first. He can feel his teeth wanting to chatter, anger aching in every part of his body. He cannot afford to show any sign of weakness or remorse, not in front of his father. But why does it feel so difficult to speak? He swallows through a dry feeling in his throat. “I thought I’d worded it all very simply–”

“Look at me when I speak to you, boy.”

He hadn’t realised his gaze had fallen to the table. He looks up with an expression that is as passive as he can manage. “I would have thought it would be obvious why I can’t go, with the recent addition to the guestlist.”

His head is turned completely so that Viserys is in his line of vision, but he hears his mother make a small sighing sound. “Aemond, I was going to–”

“ALICENT!” Viserys roars.

Aemond feels himself flinch but his gaze is unwavering. Why does he think he has any right to barge in here, to ask anything of them? 

If Aemond were to stand he’d be taller than his father, but he finds himself unable to move.

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?” Viserys says to him. “This could be the single most important night for the family for centuries and you’re still holding onto childish grudges?”

Childish grudges. He was mutilated and forced to carry the blame because of a lie, but of course his father expects him to let go, to forgive and forget. 

He feels the leather of the eyepatch digging uncomfortably into his forehead and wishes more than anything he could just tear it off.

There are some things Aemond can argue with Viserys about, but they tend to be logical arguments, work related. The longer he looks at his father the more he remembers that no amount of sense could ever compare to the blind devotion Viserys has for his eldest child. There’s nothing Aemond can appeal to, not love or loyalty, not even sympathy.

“This is not about you, Aemond. This is about the bank, this is about the Targaryen name, our legacy, does that all mean nothing to you?”

“Of course it does,” Aemond says. He’s worked for nothing else his whole life, Dragon Bank, his heritage as a Targaryen, what is he without all of that? 

Viserys’ face softens a little, as if he thinks he’s made some kind of progress. “I’ve never known you to be selfish, it’s not in your nature.”

“Well then you clearly know nothing about me,” Aemond says, glaring up at him.

Viserys frowns. “You will be there, and I want to hear no more of it. You will be polite. You will grin and fucking bear it because that’s what the rest of us have to do.”

He’s delusional, he’s fucking delusional.

Aemond looks to his brother, slumped in his chair, his eyes even darker now. He has his hand around the stem of a wine glass. He’s been staring at the crimson liquid since their father walked in. He might have been expecting to be the target of Viserys’ anger tonight; he usually is. 

Aegon looks across at him, furious, exhausted, eager for this exchange to be over. He tilts his head in a questioning motion, though his lips stay firmly sealed.

All the years he spent trying to be the best that he could, how hard he pushed himself to get through that final year at KLU while recovering from his injury, all the hours he’s devoted to the family business, all the times he’s kept his mouth shut and his head held high, is this the hill Aemond is going to die on?

He won’t try to look at his mother, but he can guess she would have a similar reasoning. 

A fearsome wind from the Narrow Sea howls against the windows of Aemond’s black Jag. The road to Dragonstone is a desolate one, leading through a forest that might as well be nothingness in the dark. The headlights beam against the tarmac which turns and rises and falls, so he can never see what’s ahead of him.

There’s a burst of light as he approaches the gates. He hasn’t seen the gatehouse for years and remembers that he used to be scared of the stone dragon heads that stand open mouthed and teeth bared on either side, at the base of the turrets. Some hired security guard comes to his window, his demeanour changing completely when Aemond glares at him through a single eye. 

Cars line the acres of grass before the house, the driveway lined with lanterns and more statuettes of dragons. Dragonstone lies ahead in its full glory, lights on in every window, moonlight shining upon its ancient walls so the castle looms in shadows and silver. 

He must be one of the last people to arrive, the last of the important people, slotting the Jag next to a golden Dodge Charger he recognises as Aegon’s. The rest of the Targaryens all drive black cars.

He checks his reflection in the rearview mirror for as long as he can stand to look at himself, glaring at the blunt edges of the sapphire in his left socket, dull and dark in the low light. The flesh around his eyelids are twisted and red, the scar itself deep but clean. His mother had suggested they could get it looked at, to make his eye seem less severe, but that’s what the eyepatch is for, to cover up the worst of his injury, for the comfort of others and not his.

He slips the leather patch over his head and secures it in place, careful not to mess up his hair in the process. 

One day he’ll make her look at it, the sapphire and the scar, maybe then she’ll understand what she put him through. Not tonight, no, tonight he intends to play it safe.

He effortlessly exits the car, checking his cuffs as he walks up to the front doors. A server offers him a glass of champagne when he steps into the entrance hall which he takes a small sip from, parched after his drive from King’s Landing. He knows his way through the opulent halls that have stayed the same for as long as he can remember, towards the hum of at least a hundred voices. 

The ballroom glimmers with reflected light, mirrors, gold accents, crystal chandeliers, champagne glasses. The guests are all in their finery, tuxedos and floor length gowns, either in black or the colours of their houses. Some have started to take their seats around the circular tables, but many are still mingling.

Any head of silver hair stands out rather obviously, and the first he sees is his father standing in the centre of the ballroom, a smile on his face and his arm around his wife’s waist. Alicent is radiant in a gold gown that catches the warmth of the candles dotted about the room. She looks less than pleased being made to talk to Rhaenyra and Laenor– now there’s a surprise, he doesn’t usually make a habit of appearing at family events. Rhaenyra is in black, as is her husband, with a waistcoat embroidered with swirling gold patterns, like waves on the sea.

His eye continues to scour the room. He sees Helaena and Daeron with the girl he assumes is Nettles. He sees Aegon getting friendly with the Martell siblings. He sees Corlys and Rhaenys with Laena and Daemon. He sees Jacaerys standing with the Starks, closer than is friendly to Cregan. He sees those with the surnames Tyrell, Tully, Lannister, Arryn, all the others, and keeps searching.

She’s not where she’s meant to be, at the table closest to the high table where Viserys will sit with the board members. She’s not with her parents, she’s not at the bar, she’s not at the doors to the gardens. Each moment he does not find her fuels some kind of fire within him, adrenaline pumping through his blood, like he’s chasing something just out of his reach. 

A flash of loose, dark hair steals his attention. He doesn’t see her face at first but he notices when she nudges his shoulder as she passes him on his blind side, very nearly ending up with champagne down her silky, off white gown or spilled across the string of pearls sitting on her bare collar.

He apologises on instinct, reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket that has only ever been intended as decorative.

“No harm done,” the woman insists. “It’s good stuff, I would have been mortified to waste any of it.”

He recognises her face, the slanted nose, the sharpness of her cheeks, her bright green eyes and unsettlingly perfect smile. He’s seen her at press events, some kind of relation to the Strongs, but not close enough that she’d ever be invited to any personal occasions.

“Alys Rivers,” she says, holding out a hand for him to shake. “Deputy editor for Seven.” He’s heard of it, a high society gossip magazine, they often run stories about his family, Daemon and Aegon mostly, the rest of them clearly aren’t newsworthy.

“You used to work for the Harrenhal Observer, didn’t you?” he says.

“I did,” she says, “between you and me though, I think cousin Larys felt a little threatened.”

“Threatened?” Aemond says, noticing a pair of girls who are oddly familiar to him. He can’t place their names but he thinks they might be old friend’s of Jaya’s. They approach Jace, turning their heads around frequently like they’re looking for something. “How so?”

“He thought I was too opinionated,” Alys says, keeping her eyes on his.

“I didn’t think there could be such a thing,” Aemond says, though now he thinks he recognises the girls from one of the parties at Maegor’s Square, from years ago. One of them meets his gaze and quickly looks away. 

“The Observer is supposedly a neutral publication after all, I had a few things to say about the working conditions at the Casterly Rock mines which caused quite a stir.”

That’s where he recognises her name from. Viserys wasn’t happy with the article given their ties to the Lannisters and their gold. It sets off a silent alarm in his head, suddenly her gaze is a little too scrutinising for his liking and he’s aware of every breath he takes, shallow or deep, soft or sharp, she could use anything against him.

“I heard a rumour you weren’t going to be attending tonight’s event,” she says.

“It’s Dragon Bank’s fifth centenary,” he says, “I’m incredibly proud of all the work my family has put into the last five hundred years.”

“You say that like you’re expecting this conversation to go to print.”

“That’s why you approached me, is it not?”

She hums a gentle laugh to herself as her gaze roams over his suit, black, simple and perfectly fitted. She looks back to his face, he sees the way her eyes flicker to his left side. She smiles lazily in a way that makes him wonder if she’s trying to flirt, and places a hand on his shoulder, leaning in closer until he can smell the classic, musky scent of her perfume. He lets her do it, lets her lips get closer to his ear.

“I only wanted to see if you had something interesting to say,” Alys whispers over the noise of the party.

He glances up, towards the grand fireplace at the end of the room. Gold plated engravings of dragons intertwine and spread their wings, framing the fire that burns within.

She’s standing there, a glass of champagne in one hand, in an emerald green dress suited for summer, loose fabric, exposing her arms, her hair pulled up into a style that’s effortlessly elegant.

Their eyes meet. It’s like electricity strikes his heart.

Six years fades into oblivion, she looks different and exactly the same. He can almost believe he’s never known a life without her, but she’s always been there, hasn’t she? An unspoken secret, living in the lightest and the darkest parts of his mind. 

He can see the moment of recognition, when her expression goes from passive and proud to alert, eyes widening, lips falling, her hand lowering the glass to the nearest surface.

It’s dangerous how quickly he can already feel himself start to slip. He’s had seven days to prepare and part of him is still in disbelief that Jaya is a living, breathing person and not just a memory. Another part of him is calm and unsurprised, like he’s always known she was going to come back. To King’s Landing, to the family business, to him.

He doesn’t feel any pain, not in his head or his chest, but he feels empty, starved to the point of ravenous. 

Jaya starts to move through the crowd, towards the glass doors that lead to an outlook over the gardens and the sea. It only sparks excitement for Aemond, imagining all the thoughts that could be swimming through her head, anger, pride, fear. By the Seven he hopes one of those is fear.

“It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

“What?” he says, looking back to Alys.

“I thought I’d refresh my memory a little before I came here tonight. It’s been six years since Jaya Velaryon was in King’s Landing. The two of you were close, weren’t you?”

Close. 

Close like the way Jaya used to hug him when they were children. She’d wrap her little arms so tightly around his chest or his neck that he could hardly breathe. He’d tell her to stop, shove her away, but then she’d only cry, and he could never say no to her after that. 

Close like their minds worked in the same way, when they only needed to look at each other a certain way to know what they were both thinking.

Close like the air of his bedroom the first night they kissed, feeling the shared warmth, her body against his, the softness of her skin, when she tasted like wine and smelled like smoke.

Close was never close enough, but what difference did it make?

“Then there was that accident at Queen’s Lodge. The press release was so vague, it only said you and Jacaerys were recovering from minor injuries…”

Aemond glares at her, the same look that would usually silence Aegon, but Alys Rivers is not afraid of his warning.

She makes a gesture to his eye. “I mean, clearly one injury was more severe than the other. Curious that Jaya left for Pentos so soon after that when she was due to start at KLU that year. Why did she leave, do you know?”

Aemond pushes past her without another word, towards the glass doors that only Jaya has passed through in the last minute or so. The other guests are starting to take their places at the tables now. He sees Rhaenyra and Laenor looking around the room, having gathered their other three brats. His own mother tries to capture his attention but his mind can only think of one thing. He walks towards the doors as calmly as he can, even though it feels as if his life depends on reaching them, on reaching her.

The doors lead out to a patio, seemingly empty right up to the balustrade. He walks to the edge, the noise of the party lost to the roar of the wind and the waves in his ears, no doubt his hair will be blown into a mess but he doesn’t care.

Everything below him is black, out of reach from the lights of the castle. Then he spots something, a flicker of flame far below him, down a series of steps, out of view, down at an outlook over the sea. She shields it with her hand, lighting a cigarette by the look of it, until the end glows with a red ember.

He walks slowly, savouring the sound of every step his shoes make against the paving stones. He keeps his hands in his pockets, single eye fixated on the shape of her shoulders, the curve of her spine and her waist through the dress.

He tries to guess the moment she realises when she’s not alone. She angles her head slightly as he reaches the bottom of the steps, still a good distance away from her. He watches her take one drag from the cigarette before she lowers it, resting her hand against the stone balcony.

He comes close enough to realise she’s shaking, jaw clenched, looking almost determinedly out across the sea. The wind cuts across his cheeks like it’s burning his skin, so how she can stand to be out here with nothing to protect herself from the cold is almost admirable. It is also foolish of her.

Goosebumps bloom over her skin, skin he could reach out and touch if he wanted to.

And she won’t look at him.

She won’t look at him.

Tags (comment to be added to either)

General taglist: @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya @dreamsofoldvalyria

Series taglist: @aemondsbabygirl @persephonerinyes @sirenangelroyal @qyburnsghost @adragonprinceswhore @boundlessfantasy @asumofwords @summerposie @thedamewithabook @ammo23 @valyrianflower @jiminie-08 @magnificentdelusionr @hiddencurator

[kagooleo]

so with confidence I present my rarepair...fluffyriceshipping!

they were originally a joke ship (which was my last chance to get out) but they grew on me more and more throughout last year, and months later they've become my favorite pair to draw! their name was the funniest thing to make of them because i got to joke around with their jpn names

the tl:dr of them is that there's a lot of good drama to make of thirty-somethings with the weight of responsibility of their respective cultures on their shoulders, as well as their personal thoughts of the trainers of their respective regions, all this culminating together to be really compelling for me to develop, so I'll ramble a Whole lot more under the cut about them :D!!

~

ok now that the people that wanted to see more about what i'm crazy about when i'm not online are here you guys better prepare for the worddump lmao

before they meet its postgame and they’re both in their thirties (early to mid), lance post gsc/hgss still upholds his champion position and managing the dragon's den alongside any g-man/undercover rocket work on the side (in workaholic mode), riley post dppt is occasionally battling at the battleground but also holing himself up with patrols on iron island and doing egg research and training his aura (Also in workaholic mode)

i'd say all the work makes byron and roark try to get him a break from all that, convincing him at some point to take a vacation! see the sights my guy you've been workin yourself to the bone

it's canonically shown in hgss that riley does appear as a partner for the battle tower, so at some point he is in johto! the region resonates with his cultural sensibilities so maybe he revisits it again to instead actually relax there.

lance would probably catch his hat flying away when he's visiting elm's lab (a fellow egg researcher) in new bark and riley would have absolutely fell first for him (and i'm a sucker for meet-cutes,,,)

and from there they hit it off! being both skilled trainers in their own right they battle and go out to eat after and talk about their family (clair and the elders, for riley's case his family friends byron and roark), their culture (dragon clans and aura guardians), and then when they talk about their respective trainer kiddos (silver and dawn) something clicks between them (it’s a Really rough snippet but hopefully it’s decent)-

"Do you have any kids? I know the news loves to make up some kind of story about secret love affairs with a random person." the guardian says, awkwardly.

Lance smiles, "Oh, yeah! I have one but he's technically not mine." Riley chokes on his iced tea.

"I'm sorry?" A million thoughts roll through his mind as he processes his words said so matter-of-factly.

"Haha, sorry, sorry, I'm only partly joking."

"E-Elaborate..."

The champion explains the general gist of things as he's met him, Silver, his kid-by-odd-circumstance, was homeless for a while, but was training alongside some other up and coming trainers. Uncovering some Rocket related files, he learns he's the son of the boss of the entire organization, and after some on and off meetings he eventually got him a place to stay at the Dragon's Den, and soon after began living with him at his place when he warmed up to the idea of adoption.

There are times he gets overwhelmed with all that he's been through, and some nights its all too much. But Lance was there with him, stayed with him every step of the way, unlike the one who gave him that abandonment anxiety in the first place.

"He's my kid, not by blood, and maybe not by his family, either. But instead, by his own decision he chose to stay with me. I'd want him to keep the freedom he has now." Lance states, firmly. "And now he's grown up as strong as I believed he could. I'm proud of him, as much as he tends to deny that." Riley senses his draconic aura swell with pride, mixed with a humbling sincerity in his words.

"What about you? Any kids of your own?" the sudden flip of the question surprises the guardian briefly.

"N-Nothing adoptive but…I suppose it's similar, in a way to meeting them as you have."

The guardian's turn, now. Dawn was someone he met when he was training on Iron Island, and also served as a guide to get her through the caverns. When he felt something off in the aura surrounding the area, he eventually learned of Galactic causing the pokemon on the island to feel restless and agitated. With her, they were able to clear the island of their antics and even gifted her a Riolu egg on her journey. From there, he was impressed with how strong she was, and did hear from Cynthia that she raised his present up to evolving her into a Lucario. He couldn't have been happier.

That was the case, until he caught the aftermath of the events of Mt. Coronet.

What Cyrus did, the lengths he'd go to, and dragging the both of them into a mess that could have torn the world apart.

After that, Dawn stayed home for a while. Cynthia put him as a contact for her mom, who was really worried for her. With his aura and her friends, Lucas and Barry, they were a big help for her recovery. And eventually, after a lot of time and work, she became the region's champion. She messages every now and then to him, as processing any trauma is never an easy road, but he realized how lucky she was to have the people she'd met to keep her steady, and knew she'll be alright.

"I...still wish I could've done more for her," Riley says, quieter. "Cynthia told me about what happened in that other world, and it...it was a lot for Dawn, a lot of emotions to help her figure out." he finishes, sheepish.

"…I don't blame you for feeling that way, I wouldn't know what to do in a scenario like that, either." the champion says, unsure too.

"It's amazing, in a way. All these kids going through so much on their own. I'd be proud were it not so scary, realizing how young they are to go through what they have been through."

"There's only so much you really can do, as an adult. I've realized that fact a long time ago." Lance's aura felt oddly melancholic, as bright and pretty as it may appear. "It's either immediate or slow when things change for them, and sometimes you'll have to make a choice on the spot when the time comes for them to decide what they want to do." It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, but the melancholy makes it appear that he's had some regrets.

“I trust in them to find their own path, eventually. When they’re together, those kids are gonna be alright on their own.”

His reassurance helped, even if only by a small amount.

-

I should make some kind of master post about them at some point but WAH god I’m so happy I can actually put them together in pokemon masters, they’ve really grown on me and I’ve developed a lot for the both of them in my free time, but yeah this is the rarepair that’s been on my brain for ages now, a gaze into my goo brain 🤪

[ride-thedragon]

Nettles: A Retelling of Snow White.

This post comes from the conceptualisation from my mutual @lilyofthevalley-11

She pointed it out, and I've been spiralling about the concept ever since. Nettles is a character you can find a lot of parallels/ foils with in both her own story and context (dance era) and the main ASOIAF series (Daenerys and Brienne come to mind most obviously). So with both those characters being major subversions of the fantasy and story formation (Daenerys as the lead and saviour in the narrative/ Brienne as the white Knight and beauty of her story) it makes sense for George to use that method on a character he favours. With that in mind, this is meta and entirely speculative with proof I find, let's begin:

Tldr: Nettles is like snow white in the same way Jaime and Brienne are like Beauty and the Beast. George loves weird stuff like that. It's not exact, but it's prominent enough for this post.

THE OBVIOUS PARALLELS.

1. THE EVIL QUEEN:

The evil queen in the original story is the wife of the king after his first wife dies. In Nettles' story, the evil queen would be Rhaenyra. The similarity posed with both would be being replaced by a younger woman. Nettles is positioned as a character foil to Rhaneyra much as the evil queen is positioned as the foil to Snow White. Nettles is Rhaenyra's exact opposite in the narrative.

2. Mirror Mirror

Daemon gives Nettles a silvered looking glass as a gift in Maidenpool. we are told. Mysaria, in this instance, is the proverbial mirror that alerts the queen that Nettles is sleeping with Daemon.

3. Ways to kill.

Rhaenyra wishes for Lord Mooton to take Nettles head of at a table (eating) or in bed (sleeping) to 'free' Daemon from the spell he has placed on her.

This is the equivalent to the huntsman who was asked in the story to kill Snow White and bring back organs as proof of the murder.

4. Gifts and So on.

So Daemon at this point is essentially training Nettles in the ways of court and etiquette. He's also buying her a lot of gifts. In Snow White, she gets a lot of gifts as well, but they are meant to kill her.

Nettles gets a hairbrush, and Snow White gets a comb. Snow White gets a ribbon, and Nettles gets a bunch of clothes, but the famous apple can be seen as either the romantic relationship she and Daemon have that calls for her life or the actual food they were eating which technically was red due to the beets. But I have a third and better option for the apple.

5. Ser /Prince Florian.

Ser Florian is a character that adds a plea that Nettles is a child no matter what she's accused of or is doing. He shares a name with the prince from Snow White.

6. Caves, Houses, and Cottages.

It's basically up for grabs because she is sentenced in Maidenpool (like the dwarves cottage), and then she is in the Vale for a time but is found by the Arryns who fought for Rhaenyra to her knowledge (another cottage) but when Sheepstealer takes her away she finds the burned men who devote themselves to them (kinda like the castle in the end). Again, this isn't a 1 to 1 comparison.

INTERPRETATIONS

1. An obvious Appearence.

They both have distinct appearances that cause them some strife. Snow White is the most fair girl alive, and that's why the Queen wants to kill her. Rhaenyra reasons that Nettles is so common and un- Valyrian that she must've used spells to claim a dragon and get with Daemon.

2. Apples and Letter

In this context I think the most symbolic thing for the apple would be the letter and decree Rhaenyra sends to Maidenpool, disguised as a plea to save Daemon.

3. Dwarves, Maidenpool Men, and The Burned Men.

Thematically, I believe that both the men of Maidenpool and the burned men serve as different counterparts to the dwarves, Nettles learns and lives there for about 5 months and helps about by protecting them from Vhagar.

But when she leaves after the letter she runs into the burned men who become a sort of protection from what she believes would be a call on her life by a queen she doesn't know is living or dead.

MORAL PURPOSE.

Innocence and True Beauty.

I think the strongest argument for this comparison stems from the way both stories play out and how they are meant to be interpreted in a moral sense.

Both are stories where a vain queen can not fathom being replaced, so they choose to murder a young girl rather than deal with it.

The point of Snow White was that true beauty is more so aligned with behaviour more so than just looks. Snow White, being the fairest, doesn't mean a lot because we don't know anything about the queen other than the fact that she's older than Snow White.

Nettles is never said to be beautiful at all, but she is often contrasted with Rhaenyra as being caring and innocent. The looks don't matter as much as the innocence of youth and kindness.

SUBVERSIONS.

1. How does innocence look?

Now George chose to make Nettles a black girl at the centre of all this. Snow White is literally as white as snow, so there is a purposeful intentionality of changing the look of innocence. There is a history of Black girls being treated as women and not seen as innocent no matter how young they are, so it is important and influences the story.

2. What is true Beauty?

The Valyrians are seen as the ideal of Beauty in asoiaf but they are also not good people by any stretch of the imagination. In every way Nettles is described, she is the opposite of Valyrian beauty in every way, but she is also a marker of how beauty can be internalised as opposed to the decisions of others. True Beauty like in the original story is internal.

3. Damsels

A complaint I keep seeing about Nettles is that she does nothing in the narrative. As in all, her actions don't have a major narrative change and that she's mostly a passive character. But that kinda makes her a damsel trope. In the story, Snow White doesn't do much but clean and get almost killed a few times. The point of these characters isn't to drive the plot with action alone (she fights in the Gullet, takes over King's Landing, becomes a fire witch in the Vale, and tracks Aemond in Maidenpool) but to motivate other characters and become a catalyst for their introduction in the story.

Maidenpool is still loyal to Rhaenyra without Nettles, Daemon lives if she remains, Aemond doesn't fight if she still flies with Daemon, etc.

4. Kisses from Princes

What does the kiss from the prince do to Snow White? It wakes her up, gives her a life she wouldn't have, true loves kiss. In the original, it's funnier because he literally moves her from her coffin and dislodged the apple in her throat. Daemon saving Nettles serves the same purpose. It has the flare of Daemon Targaryen, but the point is that when he lets her escape, he saves her life from both Rhaenyra and having to fight Aemond.

5. Wrong and Right.

Finally, wrong and right. Snow White does nothing wrong despite what the woke mob (I'm being sarcastic because I've been rambling) wants you to believe. But Nettles isn't innocent. She might be stealing sheep from the shepherds to claim her dragon. She kills innocents in the Battle of the Gullet no matter how remorseful she is and then has a probable affair with a married man. But like snow white, Nettles is consistently said to be and treated like an innocent in the narrative. Her actions don't stain her as a bad person because she isn't. Put quite literally into perspective, she's one of the most innocent characters we meet because of the world she exists in. In a world that kills children for the sake of war and revenge, that starve and tax populations for the sake of power, a girl with the infathomable height of power that is flying a dragon, cries and mourns after what she experiences. When a prince pulls a sword on a maester after reading a letter, she asks what's wrong, and when she leaves the narrative, it's in tears again. Right and wrong in both stories mean many different things, but George adapted it to fit in alignment with Nettles' story and his world.

That's it.

🍎

[daemonsdivorcerock]

THE RED COUNCIL || d.targaryen

SUMMARY: viserys targaryen is dead. his succession left in doubt. all (name) targaryen has to her claim is a few words and a stolen right. war is coming to the seven kingdoms and the dragons will dance. sister against sister. kin against kin.

REQUESTED: yes/no

PAIRING: daemon targaryen x fem!targaryen reader

AUTHOR’S NOTES: part four of the shrew of king’s landing series. reader is described as having silver hair. cregan stark is slightly aged up in this btw.

WARNINGS: bucket loads of incest, parental death, allusions to murder, war, mentions of usurping, slight cregan stark/reader, mentions of “blood and cheese”, pregnancy, stillbirth, miscarriage etc

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

VISERYS TARGARYEN IS DEAD. HE HAD BEEN FOR LESS THAN AN HOUR. (Name) could not help but feel a form of guilt as she stood there, alone, with a hand on her stomach and tears running down her cheeks. Her father was dead. Her mother was dead. Her parents were dead.

Daemon had walked into the chambers after being summoned. He was respectfully quiet as he did so, hands on his wife’s shoulders. “The King is dead,” (Name) uttered quietly, as Daemon toyed with her silver locks.

“Indeed he is,” Daemon spoke, in a similar manner, holding his wife close. Everybody expressed their grief in a myriad of ways. Daemon preferred to bottle his feelings to avoid talking about them. (Name), on the other hand, sought comfort in others, “We must summon the Small Council,”.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

“Couldn’t we have begun this meeting when the sun has risen?” Tyland Lannister had asked, a smile on his face and a joking tone to his voice.

Sitting around the table, was the Red Council. Alicent had been informed the news firstly, as the Dowager Queen, then Otto as the former Hand of the King. Sitting at the head of the table, (Name) sighed. “The King is dead,” she revealed, causing the smile on Tyland Lannister’s face to drop and the room to fall silent.

“How long?” the Grand Maester queried, adorning beige-coloured robes, from across the table next to Ser Lyman Beesbury, a favourite in the council of (Name)‘s.

Daemon, who stood behind his wife, hand on her shoulder, confessed; “An hour ago, at most,” the Rogue Prince said, “(Name) was with him in his final moments and witnessed his death,”.

“He went peacefully in his sleep,” (Name) described, interlocking her fingers and resting her hands on the table. It felt odd, knowing that her father was dead, “He expressed…regret in not naming me as his heir and apologised,”.

“I believe we should confer the issue of King Viserys’ sucession,” Otto Hightower spoke, leaning forward slightly, “In regards as to who shall ascend the Iron Throne,”.

(Name)’s eyebrows furrowed. “My father has barely been dead an hour and here you sit, Otto Hightower, implying his succession!” (Name) snapped, “My sister, the Princess Rhaenyra, was named formally as heir twenty years ago by my father. The lords of the realm swore allegiance to her. To challenge my sister’s claim would be treason,”.

“That may be so, Princess,” The Grand Maester piped up, catching the room’s attention, “However, as in accordance with the King’s final words and the technicality of you being his firstborn child, you have every right to ascend the Iron Throne,”.

Alicent Hightower, who stood behind her father, uttered, “Princess (Name) also has a legitimate heir, the Princess Daenerys, who in turn also has a legitimate heir, the Prince Jaehaerys. Princess Rhaenyra has no legitimate children,”.

“It is well known that the people referred to my wife as “The Realm’s Joy”. She has a good relationship with the common folk and listens to their pleas,” Daemon said, as (Name) looked up at him.

Otto Hightower spoke up again, “I and others present in this council recall the Princess’ political and other suggestions in regards to the welfare of the Kingdom. In all valid points, the Princess (Name) would be an ideal candidate to be the next ruler of the Iron Throne,”.

“I acknowledge your points, councilmen,” the Princess spoke, “But Rhaenyra is my sister. What is stopping her from coming to the Red Keep and staking her claim? What is stopping her from putting me and my family to the sword?”.

“You do have allies in other Houses, Princess,” Daemon mentioned, “Lord Borros Baratheon. Lord Grover Tully. I recall you had a brief liaison with Lord Cregan Stark in your youths,”.

(Name) smiled, recalling the times she spent with Cregan Stark. “Houses Lannister, Tully, Redwyne, Tyrell and many minor houses have notably supported your cause as heir,” Otto mentioned.

“There has never been a Stark who forgot an oath,” (Name) backfired, “Lord Rickard Stark swore allegiance to Rhaenyra upon her ascension. My mother was an Arryn, yet the Vale would also have loyalty to Rhaenyra. I am also unsure about House Velaryon. Dorne is positively out of the question, House Martell remains neutral,”.

All this talk of war and politics made her head hurt. She let out a soft wince of pain, holding her stomach. Her white nightgown had been stained a dreary crimson, panic darting in her eyes. “Princess?” Otto asked, almost a hint of concern darting in his eyes.

“M-My labours,” (Name) muttered, holding her stomach, “I-I think I have begun my labours,”. She doubled over and scrunched in pain.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

It was the early hours of the following morning when the Red Keep had been awoken by the screams of blistering agony. Adorning a blood-stained nightgown, (Name) keeled in pain, her knees almost buckling.

The handmaidens begged her to let them help. She knew deep down. Her mind rebelled against the idea. Rejected it completely. But in her heart, she knew. She knew this baby was dying. Her ninth child.

Daemon was trying to keep the Small Council at bay, the lot of them like wolves begging for a scrap of instruction. She sank against a wall, screaming and sobbing. Her hair was mussed and wild and face drenched with sweat, pieces of hair sticking to her forehead.

Eventually, the physical pain subsided when the baby came out. But the emotional pain was only just beginning. She breathed heavily for a minute or two, the sound of silence was deafening. The maids were sobbing. Through teary eyes and a dishevelled heart, she picked up the blood-stained infant.

During the birth she felt inward how Meraxes was roaring she screamed. The link between dragon and rider must have been more real than she had assumed.

She wasn’t moving. Her daughter wasn’t moving. The baby felt warm still. She had tufts of silver-coloured hair and half-closed lavender eyes. (Name) pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead.

The baby was small and deformed. Her limbs were thin as twigs and her body was covered in grey scales. She was gaunt and slender and lacked a nose. Daemon had come in, finding his wife sitting emotionlessly, holding their child.

He joined her on the bloody floor, holding her as she screamed and sobbed, about how “it was unfair”, and how she “should have died instead”. She refused to let the Silent Sisters prepare the baby’s body for a funeral later.

Visenya Targaryen died loved and lived briefly, her corpse burnt by Meraxes’ flames. She knew that her mother and father would protect Visenya in heaven. Protecting her. Blinded by grief and mourning, the Shrew of King’s Landing took to the Red Keep.

Rhaenys Velaryon had declared her allegiance to (Name)’s cause before departing for Driftmark with Baela and Rhaena, to reunite with Corlys Velaryon after he was found at sea.

All that was left was the coronation.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

[violetlunette]

So, I won’t mention names but a little flower with a crush on a certain “bat-lily”--which totally be a romantic nickname for a certain someone, just saying—brought the omegverse to my attention so I decided to share my quickie-quick thoughts on what I imagine the Dia boys would be.

Twst spoilers for book 7

Silver: Silver is an Omega, and a powerful one at that as his pheromones can make anyone feel at peace. As such, this makes him highly prized by Alphas who you can bet Lilia has had to beat off with his mage arm. This saddens Silver a little as he worries that being an omega causes his father trouble and he wants to protect and care for others, not the other way around.

Sebek: Also an Omega, a fact he loathes as he believes omegas to be weak and fragile, even though Lilia tries to tell him everyday that Omegas have their own strengths. He especially bemoans this as he wanted to be an alpha like his grandfather. Also, I really like him as a loud, bratty omega with an arc of accepting himself.

Malleus: Technically, he hasn’t presented yet as dragons don’t get their second gender till 500. (And I can’t decide as he’d fit omega and alpha. Comment with your thoughts.) Despite this, he oft steps into the role of alpha when his omega guards need it. Speaking of which, Malleus received a lot of flack for choosing omegas as his retainers, prompting the two to train harder.

Lilia: The only Alpha of Dia currently, though many mistake him for an omega or beta. I like him as an alpha as presents an arc for him old and young. As a young Alpha he didn’t believe he could care for Malleus the way needed because he was a rough and tough alpha who belonged on the battlefield. However, in his journey to hatch Malleus he learned there’s more than one side to alpha’s and that he didn’t have to have his fangs bared all the time. When he’s older, he struggles to accept the care he’s given as alpha are supposed to be the strong ones. He usually "scents" the boys as a warning to other alphas to back off or die.

And those are my quick thoughts! Feel free to share yours!

[emyluwinter]

I…..I don't even know where to start here, my dear.

It's not like "everything burns with a blue flame"

TWST decided to punch the OUT.

So everything is according to the old scheme. Then there are spoilers.

SHOO

So we continue to lead our news feed with Twisted wonderland AND THIS IS DAMN THE MOST DESTRUCTIVE EMOTIONAL UPDATE OF THE PLOT.

I love this game so much, you would know, it gives me such an emotional explosion that I need so much in life from time to time.

You can find now a bunch of different interpretations of a more detailed plot from the game. I will pay attention to what I remember the most

First. Grimm is my cute little gremlin/little devil. Scares poor cooks, a married couple hiding in the basement(?) to get brooms for to fly. And the funny thing is… YUU CAN JOIN THIS. YES. TIME TO BE THE MOST DANGEROUS!AND NOT TO SOLVE IT! Don't tell me Yuu doesn't enjoy a little chaos when he and Grimm start making a complete mess.

While the conversation was going on, the sound of a very hungry stomach sounded. Everyone immediately looks at Sebek.

Sebek burning with shame - …………… it's not me.

Silver didn't believe him for a split second!!*laughs*

And then this crocodile accuses that it's rumbling in Yuu's stomach! Sebek!!How could you!!Ahahahahahaha. First you say with the stubbornness of the rock that you will not be friends with us, and then you substitute that it is not you who is rumbling in your stomach, but the "person" Yes. Sure. Pffffff.

Sebek continues to deny it. But his rumbling stomach interrupts his own words. Ahahahahahah. Nice guy, just say you're hungry.

Silver DISNEY PRINCESS is already a canon, my dear. Sebek came up with a plan to use this "Princess of Diasomnia" so that they could escape past the knights of the Silver Owl. Use animals as a distraction. They really managed to escape. And when the "Dream" team (Yuu, Grimm, Silver and Sebek) were almost attacked, Lilia came to the rescue. Scolded his "not sons" for something they were inattentive. And Lilia was also attacked by birds thinking that he was dangerous to Silver. OMALVDPOALDVPODA

We were shown the castle of Princess Meleanor. (Mallenoa, it turned out to be not quite the right name from Japanese to English. We were shown how to do it right) This is a frame from the Sleeping Beauty cartoon. Such beautiful backgrounds. I like the visual style.

*San takes a deep breath*

WE WERE SHOWN MELEANOR. AND I'M ABSOLUTELY NOT OKAY. I AM WEAK AGAINST THE WOMEN THAT TOBOSO CREATES.

NO, JUST LOOK AT HER. THIS GODDESS.

With not the easiest character, but as Lilia said, Malleus is definitely more calm than his mother.

How powerful this goddess's thighs must be to lay this healthy egg….

Meleanor - * the most gentle dragon mom who loves the baby in the egg, sings a lullaby to him*

she's in a second

"I'LL SET YOU ON FIRE WITH LIGHTNING RIGHT NOW, IDIOT!!"

Lilia meanwhile with the face "I want to retire"

Meleanor considers her husband to be a world-class beauty and that Malleus will definitely grow up and receive beauty genes from his father. Ma'am, I want to know what your husband looks like since you worship him so much. I need to see him!! TOBOSO PLEASE. Who is this man capable of stealing the heart of Draconia?!

Oh, yeah….

Meleanor threw such information that set the fandom on fire. As if it's not enough for us right now..khem…

Lilia proposed to her when he was younger, and Meleanor also said that Lilia also loves Levan. And that they both spent more time together than any married couple.

Well … technically, "love" can be perceived in different ways, as a family, as a friend, as a dear fairy heart, and in romantic or not, everyone decides for himself. Lilia grew up with Meleanor and Levan, in fact, these are the two closest faeries that have been to him throughout his life.

TWST decided to tear our hearts to shreds, I'm not kidding.

Silver…..

….guys…..he's already having a tantrum for the third time probably happening. The screenwriters didn't spare him at all. Like us, too.

It's not like a panic attack, it smells like a nervous breakdown.

And yes, he was dragged away by ink due to the fact that his entire consciousness went to dust.

It wasn't enough for us to have one overblott, IT ALREADY SMELLS LIKE TWO AT LEAST

Sebek, Grimm and Yuu are trying to find Silver lost in the ink. They wander in the dark long a lot and Sebek is worried that we might get lost. Yuu takes them by the hand and Sebek is confused and confused. Phphhavadlp. This guy. Tsundere. You're in our gang, no excuses.

Silver is of course pulled out, Sebek swears with him, fights with him, swears again. He's crying eyes out. And they put up. Silver uses the magic of the ring to pull everyone out of the ink.

Yuu and their poor battered back from all these falls…Ahahahahaha

They notice that behind the Lily's footprints there are traces of knights from Silver Owls and rush to help.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand

this is the end of the chapter.

Considering that there will be a new event in October.Which will stretch until mid-November? I think that we can expect updates to the plot of the main story in December. Perhaps. But this is not accurate.

As we can see, they try not to "artificially stretch the plot" as sometimes happens. And to work it out carefully and in detail. Keep in mind that we are only approaching the middle of the story somewhere. Because Ortho is still waiting for us with dogs and Styx And the fight is not in a dream with Malleus.

+Analysis of the consequences.

And I reааааааally hope chapter 8 for Yuu and Grimm.

Let's summarize the results.

Silver turned out to be the son of the Knight of the Dawn, immersed in a deep sleep because of the three fairies until the war ends. CANONICALLY SILVER IS TAKEN FROM THE HISTORY OF AURORA And that "only love can wake him up" Lilia, who was staggering next to an abandoned castle for 300/400 years, it is unknown why.

-huh?…is there a baby crying somewhere?

The unique magic of Lilies. - check The unique magic of Sobek. - check

It remains only to learn the unimalkuyu magic - Ace, Grimm and Ortho!

[genderlesssinner]

Prepare yourself for more of my rambling bullshit

I apologize this is gonna be LONG as I just spew my thoughts while watching

Oh right Liliana is here I forgot this is where we left off OOF

The Weave Mind built the fortress, okay okay okay

Burrow Site?? Ah the dig to the cage

Oooh no he's using Liliana for the projection??

Oooo fae info dump

Are the Unseelie part of how Ludinus does the widespread projections? Or is he just rallying the troops

I am both stressed and love how eager Travis always is for things to go poorly

So much teleporting if they do this and going to the Fey is time fucky so that could be bad I hope they remember that and maybe Morri can still help with that?

Istg Travis. That die roll is gonna get Chet one day and no one is gonna believe it at first cause he fakes out so much

"we're not interesting enough for that" TAL

Part of me really hopes they turn the Sorrowlord fully against Ludinus but I also don't want that sombitch anywhere near Fearnie

Always walkin and talkin, or they would never get anywhere. Ever.

This meeting should be interesting.

WHO ARE THE OTHER DRAGONS MATTHEW?

I know my love, J'mon is one. Who are the other two.

Love having telepathic bond, hell yeah Imogen

GET IT LIL MAN dayum WHO IS HERE MATT AAAAA THE WHISPERSSSSS

Braius apologizing to Fearne is hilarious to me Fearne is the last one to be picky about relationship stuff yet he kissed Imogen and it it's fine lol

TALIESIN IS SO INTO THIS I love Taliesin's reactions to everything omg

"shut up baby I know it" LIAM LEMUR O'BRIEN

I have so many mixed feelings about all of this wow okay

Thank you for stopping them Matt

My boys? WHO DID YOUR HALFLING EYES SEE ORYM?

Oh no oh um is that papa Wyvernwind?? It iiisssss oh shiiiiiiitttt

Hoo boy, those are big ass golems

WHO IS THE SILVER DRAGON MATTIE

Oooh man I love these absolute chucklefucks

The beacons are lit

Cerkonos!! Fuck yeah. Ashari!

Vex is like fuck the politics we have to *stop* this

Everytime they say Sunder King it sounds SO FAMILIAR and I can't remember it's driving me bonkers

That is one hell of a name Matt

Oh SHIT the dragon Zone of Truthed the whole damn place ooooff

Oh shit Braius of of everyone being able to lie? That totally won't bite is in the ass WILL IT SAMUEL?

VOX MACHINA ASSEMBLE BITCHES

OH SHIT the fucking bright queen vouching for the mighty nein shiiiitttt if she only knew

Taliesin: happy wiggles

Oh poor kiki dealing with all these assholes on top of everything else

Dorian thank you oh my god I was sitting here like Ash pls I love you but this one time keep your opinions to yourself you beautiful dumbass

Oh no

Okay maybe it's okay that Braius can lie ...maybe

Many months = two whole days

A GUY WHO MAKES Chairs crying

"what's the Platinum Dragon's mother's name?" Hoo that throwback

Oh boy Sam is making something Canon rn

Interesting okayokayokay

Oh Ashton oh no

Oh. Okay. No I'm vibing with this though.

Fearne flashing the room would be hilarious

"quick spin the bottle" XD

Oohhhh showing them is uh an interesting choice right now with the uh exhaustion that comes after

Fuck shit I missed a bit because technical issues hell

Oohhhhhh hh my sweet bard boy

Robbie is such a wonderful story teller ugh

Orym blue screening over Dorian and his horsedragon, love him

Chet is gonna wolf out ain't he.

Tiny sexy breath 🤣🤣🤣

Aaand there it is. Ope he's not actually changing okay okay

OH SHIT TITLES OH MY FUCK AKXBSUHVG

I totally got distracted and missed something said but it's fine I'll watch again Monday

Chet

Oh

What

Where's papa Wyvernwind

Yeeeeeee

I forgot his name is Bronte

Yeah no tracks okay fuck.

Break time! More rambling fuckery in the second half yall

Go use the bathroom and get drinks and snacks

[hanafubukki]

Yes, OT3 and No longer you are renting free in my head. Go hit Dawny fantasy of his romance with the strange kind girl he found in the wood one day when said girl is like "Yeah. We cannot be together. Cannot say much but I know what will happen and the future is dark". I mean, even without OT3 involved, this song is so much for Dawn 😭

"The song of past romance"

"The sacrifice of men"

"Portayal of betrayal and a brother final stance"

The only difference is that Dawn don't seem to be the kind who would choose the Monster route, and commit a massacre out of hate/revenge. But yeah, self hate and imposter syndrome are my guess. "I do not deserve my wife. They say I am an hero, but I just have the blood of a mother on my hands." Please. I don't want to think of how tortured this man was when Leia belly started to show. Happy, we will have a child. Sad, I made another child orphan. Happy, the baby moved. Sad, no news of the hatchling dragon that should have already been born. Happy, the baby is born healthy. Sad, I must return to war.

And this guy died alone on a battlefield against other humans as greedy as them. Who knows what he had thought at that time ? Worried ? Relieved ? Dissapointed ?

This man take too much space in my brain for the little screen time he had.

- 🦋 Anon

Hello 🦋 Anonie,

“This man takes too much space in my brain for the little screen time he had”

THE WAY I FELT THIS.

As of right now, he’s been in only TWO chapters 🦋 anonie, just two! And the way he has gripped me??? I want to laugh and just be that Kermit frenzy meme. (Those two chapters were long, but that’s not the point shhh)

….did you know it’s been about…311 days since they reveled KOD as Silver’s bio father? (Give or take a day because of time zones, etc.) I mean who’s counting? Hahaha certainly not me, what are you talking about?? ☺️🥰

(My yume with KOD was recently 300 so that’s how i know 💞🫶)

…wait that means it’s been 311 days since Meleanor was revealed as well… @rayroseu and @kitwasnothere happy 311 days to you both 🥹🫂💞

No Longer Human just hits me in the feels 😭😭💞💞 the future is dark for KOD but bright for his son and I think that’s all that he would have wanted for his family. How frustrated or helpless would he have felt to meet someone he likes who keeps putting a barrier because they know that future and don’t want to be hurt? How would they feel knowing they can’t save him? 😭😭 (this is why I have 10 AUs in my head where he lives, I want him happy ahhh 💞💞)

In canon wise, yes! I agree! It is still a KOD song. For all of the points you mentioned above. What I really love that you pointed out what the opposites of KOD and Lilia. KOD wouldn’t become the monster like Lilia would. But technically, it’s all about perspective in this case, because the label of “Monster and killing for hate” well, the faes or humans might disagree no? Depending on the side you ask?

Not to go too deep, since I talked about it before in this post, but based on perspective. Everyone can be the hero or the villain.

BUT YESSS THE PARALLELS OF MALLEUS AND SILVER EVEN BEFORE THEIR BIRTHS. How must he have felt? To know that he has this happiness while taking away another’s? But at the same time, I want to believe that before he went to war for the last time. He tried his best to make peace with the faes. There’s a reason why the humans turned on him and Leia and maybe this is why.

I want to believe that as he laid there. He at least knew that his son would live happily in a peaceful time with people who love him.

After all, that ring just shows how loved Silver is by KOD doesn’t it? Always shining and helping him, showing him precious memories, and that smile at the end. He’s truly happy for his son and I think with that thought alone. He was happy.

[give me his damn name twst. I love calling him Dawn and all the symbolisms he is and all that without the name and such. Love that in story telling but dang it, give me a name. If I have to wait until the book 7 light novel…I think I will scream. 😆🤣]

[justanotherfangirlst]

Hi it's the anon who sent the long list of questions I have some other questions

what is the color associated of the elemental power of Dragons?

You said Tanzanite is a elemental master. What element does he have?

How powerful is he?

Does Daniella have a dragon form like the og four ninjas?

And does she have a actual dragon form?

Does Daniella have a Oni form?

Now this is probably a very stupid question but you said that Daniella is only able to access her Dragon heritage does that mean she is completely cut off from her Oni heritage?

Does Daniella have either the essence of creation and destruction or both?

Since Daniella is Garmadon's daughter isn't she a Dragon/Oni/human hybrid like Lloyd is?

If so do you know how much of each she is?

Thanks for answering my questions again

First of all, Hi again!! I loved the questions you asked last time and this time! I hope these answer your questions and maybe spark some new ones!

what is the color associated of the elemental power of Dragons?

The color associated with the elemental power of Dragons is Lavender and Silver. Just like Lloyd has his Golden Ninja status, Daniella has the Silver Ninja status. It is when her powers are at their purest and can defeat Demons, like the Overlord.

You said Tanzanite is a elemental master. What element does he have?

He was the elemental Master of Light. Since elemental powers don’t have to be passed on from parent to child, the idea was that Tanzanite would inherit the powers during the merge. But I saw that Mr. Pale was still alive in the sneak peaks of the next part of Dragon’s Rising so I don’t really know what he will be now. He’ll still exist, but maybe he won’t be an elemental master. If I go that route, my next gen elemental master won’t be affected. She was adopted by Tanzanite, so the way she gets her elemental powers would be the same.

How powerful is he?

He has the strength of both Munce and Dragon, so he is very strong. He also trains with any weapon he can get his hands on. When Dani allowed him to stay in the village of The Great Library, he vowed to protect her and her family with everything he had. And this only grew when Daniella had the triplets after the merge.

Does Daniella have a dragon form like the og four ninjas?

So she doesn’t have a dragon form like the og four. Their dragon form comes from the fighting technique from Quanish the Elder. Daniella’s dragon form is more her powers becoming like armor. But it takes a lot, so she doesn’t do it often. As she does have Dragon’s blood, she technically can perform the technique and have one like the others, she doesn’t.

And does she have a actual dragon form?

Like I said, her “dragon form” is her powers becoming armor like. I’ll add a picture (an old one that needs to be redone, but it’s the same idea). The best way I can describe it is, and this is gonna sound silly but bear with me, a magical girl’s super move. And while it’s similar to that of Quanish’s technique, she’s the only one who can do so like this. There is no technique, it’s more like a burst of power. Kinda like how the Spinjitzu Burst for Cole happened in Master of the Mountain. But instead of a bigger Spinjitzu tornado, it’s dragon features. I hope that and the added picture makes sense. Her “dragon form” was created looong before the og’s Dragon Form

Does Daniella have a Oni form?

She does not have an Oni form because of how closely tied her powers are to dragons.

Now this is probably a very stupid question but you said that Daniella is only able to access her Dragon heritage does that mean she is completely cut off from her Oni heritage?

So I believe that there are no stupid questions, only hurtful ones. I have a hard time explaining things, especially about Dani and my other Ninjago Ocs because I know the lore. And I forget that no one else really does lol. Daniella cannot access her Oni side like Lloyd can. Because her elemental abilities are tied so closely to dragons, she can’t reach the Oni side of her heritage.

Does Daniella have either the essence of creation and destruction or both?

She has the essence of both as both come from Dragon and Oni respectively. But with the Oni side being repressed, it hurts to use the essence of destruction.

Since Daniella is Garmadon's daughter isn't she a Dragon/Oni/human hybrid like Lloyd is?

She is a hybrid like Lloyd, but her human and Dragon sides are the only thing that show. Her Oni side is repressed under the Dragon side.

If so do you know how much of each she is?

She is equal amounts of Oni, Dragon and human.

[theworldisquietheretooquiet]

An unhinged attempt to fit deaths in the Silm into the 15 Fears/Entities of The Magnus Archives

THE BURIED

Fingolfin

So in all honesty I struggled to put Fingolfin in one of the others, but he’s here because he was figuratively weighed down by the weight of the ruin of the Noldor… and Morgoth crushed him under his weight, which was “like a fallen hill.”

THE CORRUPTION

Aredhel

She dies to a poisoned wound inflicted by her husband, which is very symbolic of an entity associated with infection and unhealthy love.

THE DARK

Eluréd & Elurín

They are taken by monsters into a dark forest, and their death is a fate unknown in the dark… I’m not crying… MAG 173 vibes.

THE DESOLATION

Maedhros

This works so well and was what originally sparked (ha) this idea. Throwing yourself into a “gaping chasm filled with fire” is exactly what a victim of the Lightless Flame would do. This fear is the manifestation of pain, loss and unthinking/cruel destruction, especially of potential. Maedhros both experiences this and is the perpetrator of this on countless occasions. His death is the consequence of these actions – his last sensations are “pain unbearable”, “anguish”, and “despair”.

Also, the parallels to Agnes Montague! Both are angsty redheads who were held up as the hope of a people only to fail in that role completely and die a meaningless self-inflicted death…

(I promise the others won’t be as long oops)

Aegnor & Angrod

Really all deaths in the Dagor Bragollach fit here – dying in despair in dragon fire is very Desolation.

Aerin

Unlike the others I don’t believe she ever gave into utter despair, and her death by fire has some defiant rage in it. Yet her life was marked by pointless pain and her death by destruction; she burns herself alive to avoid the revenge of the Easterlings.

THE END

Maglor

He’s haunted by inevitable death throughout the narrative - the unstoppable end of all his brothers, cousins and Beleriand itself. Assuming he fades, he dies the closest to a mortal death from old age of any elf.

Morwen

She dies nearly as soon as Hurin finds her on the grave of her children, one of the last of the Beorians, a ‘dead’ people.

THE EYE

Húrin

As Thingol tells him “for he that seeth through Morgoth’s eyes, willing or unwilling, seeth all things crooked”. A figure that keeps constant watch and horrible knowledge that may destroy you are both of the Eye.

THE EXTINCTION

Turgon

The Fall of Gondolin represents that final extinction of all Noldor culture, power and craft in Beleriand – and it was brought down by a Noldo (Maeglin). Destruction by our own doing is very Extinction.

THE FLESH

Celebrimbor

(Yes I know he doesn’t technically die in the Silm sshhh) But being made into a human banner and paraded by the enemy is quintessentially Flesh fears of reshaping and mutilation.

Finduilas

She was “fastened to a tree with a spear”, which is the sort of physical mutilation this entity represents.

THE HUNT

Finrod

He killed a werewolf … with his hands and teeth. Yeah.

Celegorm

This boy is the biggest avatar of the Hunt. He literally canonically served the god of hunting. And his hunting after the silmaril led to the second kinslaying and his death.

Ambarussa

If we go with the idea their own followers turned on them and killed them at Sirion, it has the Hunt energy of predator becoming prey.

THE LONELY

Maeglin

Kind of leaning into popular fanon here (because it has been a while since I read tfog) but his betrayal of Gondolin links with his isolation as Eöl’s son, Sindarin and the way he was raised in Nan Elmoth. Plus his whole being a creep for Idril thing as a desire to not be alone.

THE SLAUGHTER

Dior

The sudden, awful violence of the second kinslaying basically.

Fingon

His death signifies to me the pure, horrifying, unmotivated violence of war which the Slaughter represents. They “beat him into the dust with their maces, and his banner, blue and silver, they trod into the mire of his blood.”

THE SPIRAL

Fëanor

There’s the lies spread by Morgoth, Feanor’s own deceit of Fingolfin at Losgar and his description as “fey”, all which lead to his death, and lies, false friendships, deceit and madness are all characteristics of the Spiral.

Thingol

He was mad to speak to the dwarves like that and not expect consequences lol. Also his obsession with the silmaril is a little like madness. And I guess you could say the dwarves ‘deceived’ him as they never intended to give him the Nauglamir.

THE STRANGER

Beleg

Case 1.0 of Túrin killing a love interest because of mistaken identity.

Nienor

Case 2.0 of Túrin ‘killing’ a love interest because of mistaken identity. Feat. Accidental incest. Also Nienor experiences the creeping sense of knowing something is not right but not how.

THE VAST

Eöl

He gets yeeted to death. Simon Fairchild is jealous.

Elenwë

Dying an ‘insignificant’ death in the unfathomably deep and barren void of the Helcaraxë is very indicative of the Vast.

THE WEB

Túrin

He is the poster child for being trapped in a machination, and not knowing it, Morgoth makes his will not his own with the curse. With his many names he tries to escape the web Glaurung and Morgoth cast over him, but to the end he only furthers his own doom – “master of doom by doom mastered”. (Even his sword was working against him RIP.)

[twistedwonderlandsimps]

People being scared of Mal!Yuu but it's really just resting blank face. Does Malleus mind his older sibling following him around? I'm pretty sure at that point Dire just knows not to say anything about Yuu being in the wrong class.

Lilia probably takes being followed the best, then Silver (who might be a little like ???). Sebek probably handles it terribly.

Poor Leona though. Now there's two lizards hanging around the school.

What’s funnier is that while there are people who’s scared of Mal!Yuu, Malleus is still the feared Draconia out of the two of them. Case in point, Ace and Deuce. These two who share a braincell may have actually not realize that Mal!Yuu was a Draconia and have gotten into shenanigans with them, only realizing their heritage soon after but by that time they’re like, “Yuu and Grim aren’t scary at all. 100/10, would defeat the Dwarf’s Mine monster with them again. :D” After that, it’s just downhill from there. Yuu gets caught up in overblot after overblot but they do meet and acquire more friends so that’s a plus.

I believe Malleus doesn’t mind his older sibling following him to class. He sees it as a way of them bonding together and everyone's having a good time so all is right. Though, the students in the class they were in were all suspiciously silent and their backs were straight and stiff as boards, pointedly looking at the teacher in front and refusing to look behind them where the two dragon fae were sitting seem to say otherwise.

Also, yes, Lilia likes being followed by Mal!Yuu! They knew each other way, way back before so it isn’t a surprise if Yuu gets into shenanigans because of Lilia and become close friends because of this. (enemies to lovers to amnesiac, very slowburn, >300k fic lmao you wish) Unfortunately for Lilia, though, it seems the Mal!Yuu still can’t remember much of anything before they woke up from deep sleep so he can’t act overly familiar with them.

Silver’s pretty much neutral about being followed to class and Yuu even helps carry and move them around when he starts feeling drowsy when walking through the halls. Mal!Yuu’s going to make sure Silver arrives to class on time!

Sebek handles it terribly because this is like Malleus 2.0 following him around, only older and was technically the heir to the Valley of Thorns if they only didn’t willingly give that title to their own brother. Don’t worry, though, he relaxes a teensy, tiny little bit when he joins the braincell group.

Poor Leona. He’s just sleeping and the moment he wakes up, Ruggie’s already telling him about the rumors that Malleus’ apparently older long-lost sibling appeared and was now going to this school. He stares at Ruggie for a moment, turns to the side and goes back to sleep. He doesn’t want to deal with whatever thatis. He also learns that Mal!Yuu’s willing to give the title and being next-in-line as the heir for the Valley of Thorns to Malleus and he’s like ‘Damn, why can’t Farena be like that? Tch.’

[humanpurposes]

(Teaser) It Will Come Back

Chapter 3, Broken Bonds

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

A/n: I feel bad that it's been forever since this series had an update, and I'm just feeling silly today so I thought I'd share a lil something of what I've been working on (to hopefully motivate me to finish the chapter lmao).

Now…

The heat is relentless this summer. Light bleeds through the ancient stained glass windows of the Red Keep in beams of red, green, blue and gold, only to be lost to the dark wood floors, furniture and panelled walls. It is Aemond’s least favourite time of year, when the weather makes him irritable and the harsh light gives him a headache, when business tends to be busy and everyone is preoccupied with holidays and garden parties. He’s less inclined to distract himself with frivolity. 

His sleeves are rolled up, his long silver hair pulled into a ponytail, sweat starting to pool underneath the eyepatch over the left side of his face. He’s leaning over Aegon, one hand on the back of his chair, staring down at his laptop and they check over some details for next week’s event.

It’s not often Aemond finds himself in his brother’s office. Technically Aegon is his superior, ‘deputy operations manager’ according to the golden plaque on the door. This is more of a courtesy title because he couldn’t get a respectable job anywhere else, and it would be far worse for their father’s image to have a layabout son.

That’s the funny thing about the family business. It’s no secret that Viserys Targaryen didn’t want his sons involved in Dragon Bank, but his influence is not as all encompassing as he would like to believe, not since the Hightowers got a foot in the door thirty or so years ago… then another… then another. Viserys can make his demands and shout when he’s angry enough, but there is one truth he cannot deny; he needs them. He needs Otto. He needs Alicent. He needs Helaena and Daeron to stay perfect. He needs Aegon to not be a fuck up and that’s enough. And he needs Aemond because he’s good at his job. No one has an eye for detail like him, no one can make sense out of figures or persuade clients and investors like he can.

Why their grandfather wants him to look over PR and marketing nonsense is understandable, but irritating nonetheless.

Their father has been planninging this event for years, Dragon Bank’s fifth centenary gala, with all the pomp and grandeur of a bygone era, held at their ancestral seat of Dragonstone Castle, just outside the city. Five hundred years since one of their ancestors forged a throne for himself in King’s Landing, building an empire that still has most of the country under their family’s thumb. Viserys intends to use the occasion as a reminder to every individual and family in Westeros who thinks they are even slightly important that they cannot compare to the might of the Targaryens. 

There can be no oversights. Everything has to be perfect.

His eye scans over the diagram on the screen, circles surrounded boxes with names; the seating plan in the main ballroom. Then a name catches his eye and it makes his heart stop. He doesn’t want to believe what he sees but there it is on the screen, in Times New fucking Roman: Jaya Velaryon.

He’s hardly heard that name, read it, or heard it in six years. He can already feel a dull ache creeping into his skull, which he knows will catch like kindling and soon become a burning, blinding pain behind his eyes and in the crevices of his scar.

Aegon, completely oblivious, huffs a little laugh to himself. “Shit, yeah, I meant to say there was an update with the seating. So this could turn out to be quite interesting– fuck, are you alright?” 

“Fine!” Aemond snaps, staggering back from the chair. His head feels like it’s been run through with a knife and his fingers fumble to get his eyepatch off. “Fine– fuck! I’m fine.”

“Sit,” Aegon orders, quickly standing and guiding Aemond over to one of the leather sofas on the other side of the room, where the sunlight isn’t so direct.

The pain is often like this, striking suddenly, spreading quickly like a forest fire, eating away at him like a disease, and he has no choice but to endure it.

He feels the eyepatch slip from his face before something cold presses against the worst of his scar. He reaches up to clasp his hands around it: a glass water bottle, one Aegon is holding. His brother is useless most of the time but he does have his moments.

“Fuck it’s all red,” Aegon mutters. “Have you got meds with you?”

When Aemond opens his mouth to speak his jaw is trembling. “Office,” he says, gritting his teeth together, trying to control his breath and the extent of the pain. “It’s in the office.” He can see where the packet is in the first draw under his desk.

“I can go and grab some–”

“No,” Aemond says, grabbing Aegon’s arm so he won’t move. 

He can handle this. Every time this kind of pain flares up he thinks of how much it hurt that night, how terrified he was as he felt the blood gushing from the gash in his eye, slipping through his fingers. The pain had been so great he thought it might kill him. If he can get through that night, the first few hours in the hospital, the months of recovery or the years since, then he can get through a fucking headache. 

He closes his eye and breathes in counts of three. In through the nose, hold, and out. Between that and the bottle against his face the pain starts to feel a little duller and the room doesn’t feel so close.

“Is it… you know,”

Did seeing Jaya’s name shock him so severely that his body went into meltdown? Is his heart still pounding in his chest at the thought of reading her name and the possibility of seeing her again? 

Aemond exhales irritably against the back of his throat, defeated, but always stubborn.

[write4tomorrow]

Part 1: Heat and Victories

Pairing: Druig x Sorcerer!Reader

Summary: **** (SPOILERS) **** AU where all the remaining Eternals stay on earth after the events of the movie. You are a sorcerer like Doctor Strange and have been working as his assistant since Thanos’ downfall. Doctor Strange has been keeping close watch over the Eternals after the Celestial emerged from the ocean.

Genre: Adventure / Fluff

Word Count: 1392

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue (complete)

With a warm cup in your hands, you sat outside of a crowded Italian cafe. To the beat of street music, you tapped both your sorcerer’s ring and your sling ring against your ceramic cup. Maybe you could go out dancing later. Well, only if your mentor allowed it.

The little city square was busy and the Italians around your table don’t seem to notice you at all. Even the rhythmic clanking against the mug didn’t seem to disturb anyone. Looking around at the beautiful architecture, you suddenly found yourself wishing that your mentor would let you explore more.

“Keep your eyes on Kingo,” Doctor Strange’s voice crackled in your ear. You scowled and pulled your baseball cap lower on over your face. After taking a sip from the warm mug, you sprinkle some herbs into your drink. You are not a warrior. Yes, you know how to fight (with and without magic), but you are better at serving as Doctor Strange’s eyes and ears. You need to make sure your physical and mental shields were raised and strong. The tricks that Doctor Strange had taught you were alright, but you created a light powder mixture that amplified the strength of your mental shields. Now you carried a little pouch of yellow powder with you constantly because of how well it helped you keep your defenses up. It tasted awful, but after drinking it every day for almost five years, the taste no longer bothered you.

“If you can see me, you can see Kingo,” you hissed, “and if you can see Kingo, why do you need me here?” Over the small earpiece, you heard the Doctor sigh.

“I am too recognizable to be there in person,” Doctor Strange explained. You knew this, of course. You could go places that the former avenger couldn’t. It was part of the reason your sorcerer's ring was attracted to you. While Doctor Strange had the Cloak of Levitation and the Eye of Agamotto, you had the fabled Merlin ring. A little ring of silver with a dragon skull on it, it was your favorite part of being Doctor Strange’s apprentice. You still didn’t know the depth of its power. It primarily served to channel your power into one place. But after spending the past two days in Italy, following Kingo and Sersi around like a breathing shadow, you were beginning to feel stifled.

“Do you have eyes on Sersi?” You glanced around as Kingo signed a poster for a fan. You took another long sip of your drink as you discreetly looked for Sersi. She left the Domo this morning to sightsee around at a museum, so you hadn’t seen her in a few hours. Where was she? What were the Eternals doing in Italy?

Something about their behavior during the months after the appearance of the celestial living within the earth seemed suspicious. While you considered Doctor Strange to be a paranoid man, you did believe him when he told you that the Eternals were hunting something. But for what?

“She left the museum about an hour ago. You should see her soon but-”

Without warning, Doctor Strange’s voice cut off. You immediately sat up straighter and began calling for Strange over the ear piece. No response. This wasn’t a technical malfunction. The Doctor made these earpieces himself with magic and the best Stark Technology. What was going on?

Everyone in the cafe suddenly stopped talking. Their eyes glowed an iridescent yellow and their heads slowly turned toward you. A strong pressure began to wash over your mind. In waves, something oppressive tried to force its way into your thoughts. Silently, you thanked yourself for remembering to drink your dose of yellow powder for the day. Still, even with that defense, the magic trying to overcome your mind was insanely strong.

“Okay, time to go,” you whispered to yourself as you tried to discreetly rise out of your seat. You were gritting your teeth, hoping that your head would stop throbbing. Distracted by the oncoming headache, you almost didn’t notice a strong hand gripping your shoulder. With a firm push, you were forced back into your chair.

“Nice try, beautiful,” an accented voice purred, “but we have a bone to pick with you.” You looked over and found Druig taking a seat opposite you. His eyes were glowing like the silent people around you. The pressure in your mind escalated just a tad but you forced yourself to focus on the eternal in front of you.

“Please,” you began as kindly as your temper would allow, “get out of my head.” There was a part of you that wanted to jump to your feet. You couldn’t tell where the strange spike of energy came from but you wanted to do something. Fight, perhaps. Or maybe sing? Or jump for the moon? Whatever this feeling was, you wanted to channel all of it towards Druig.

“Well, see, here’s the interesting thing,” Druig’s eyes never left yours, “I can’t seem to get inside.” With an appraising glance, Druig looked you over. Your fists were clenched and your knuckles were white, but other than that, you kept your composure. To be honest, Druig had expected someone a little more meek. Despite just meeting you,

“Druig,” Kingo called as he made his way over to you, “Stop playing with her.” After pulling up a chair and taking a seat, Kingo tossed a small golden device on the table.

“Our friend Phastos - you know him? - he made that,” Kingo explained, pointing to the box. “It’s blocking all communication between you and your master.”

“He’s not my master,” you replied, reaching for your drink. Before you could stop him, Druig pulled the cup out of your reach. His enchanted eyes still didn’t leave your face. He let out a small, quick smirk which felt too much like a challenge for comfort.

“What’s your name, little witch,” Druig asked.

“Call me y/n,” you answered, as you placed your hand over Druig’s, which was holding your cup. With your Merlin ring, you begin to heat up Druig’s skin. If he wants to challenge you, then he better be prepared for the consequences. You locked eyes with Druig, watching for the pain to register in his face. The pressure in your mind began to increase.

With a small laugh, Druig pulled his hand away from yours, giving in to the burning pain you inflicted. After examining the minor burn, his eyes stopped glowing and the horrible feeling in your mind left.

“Hello, y/n” Druig said, holding his hand against his chest. You took a last sip of your drink. It was a small victory, but it was a victory nonetheless.

Druig lightly brushed his fingertips along the burn on his hand. He could still feel the sweltering heat but he could also feel the lingering touch your hand left on his. And your eyes. Your gaze pierced him to his seat. It made him want to stand and fight or run or laugh or dance. There was something about you that gave Druig a rush of feelings. He was surprised you didn’t back down from him. He enjoyed they way you didn’t shy away from his gaze like so many did. Even now, as the two of you refused to look away from each other, Druig noticed a small smile creep over your face. He suddenly realized that he was having trouble stopping himself from grinning.

“Dude, she’s perfect,” Kingo said to Druig. The two exchanged a look before Druig gave a small nod. You noticed that it was the kind of exchange that family members gave one another and you wondered what it would be like to have a connection like that. Doctor Strange probably didn’t even know you were in trouble right now. Why else wasn’t he here?

“Let’s go,” Druig stood then, looking down at you.

“Why would I do that?” You leaned back in your chair, continuing the game of chicken the two of you had started. You put your drink on the table and crossed your arms over your chest. Again, you and Druig lock eyes. Neither of you spoke, but Kingo could only take so much.

“Just tell her- look,” Kingo said, turning to you, “we need a spy. We really need a spy.”

“Let’s make a deal, little witch.” Druig smirked.

Part 2

A/N: thank you so much for reading through this! Anyway, this will be an eight part series. Please let me know what you think 👉👈

Also, let me know if you want to be added to a tag list (thank you @misselsbells06 for the suggestion!)