#terrible child tournament

[terrible-child-tournament]

[novaursa]

- Note: So, I'll give this a go here. Those who followed my work on AO3 will notice some changes, but the gist is the same. Also, please be kind. If you don't like it, just scroll over it. I post stuff for people to enjoy them and escape the burdens of their lives with me for a while. There is no grand conspiracy here. Just read and relax. Also, this is an AU fanfic and my own personal toxic blend of the show and the book(s).

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word count: 9 000+

- Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Final

Part 1

The air was thick with anticipation and the clang of swords as the tournament raged on in the fields outside King's Landing. Knights clashed in the lists, banners fluttered, and the crowd roared, their cheers echoing through the castle walls. Yet inside the royal chambers, the atmosphere was tense and fraught with fear.

Queen Aemma Arryn was in labor, her cries of pain mingling with the distant sounds of celebration. King Viserys I Targaryen paced the length of the chamber, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, worry etched deeply into his face. This was the moment he had long awaited, the birth of his male heir. But the labor was not progressing as it should.

Maester Mellos hovered nearby, his brow furrowed as he consulted with the midwives. "The babe is in breech, Your Grace," he said, his voice grave. "We cannot turn it. If we do not act soon, we will lose them both."

Viserys halted, his heart pounding. "What can be done?" he demanded, though he feared the answer.

"We can attempt to save the child," Mellos replied, his tone heavy with the weight of the decision. "But it will mean sacrificing the queen."

The king's breath caught in his throat. He looked at Aemma, her face pale and slick with sweat, her eyes filled with agony and desperation. She had given him so much, had borne the burden of his ambitions and dreams. And now, he was faced with a choice that would haunt him forever.

"Aemma," he whispered, kneeling beside her and taking her hand. "My love, they say... they say they can save the babe."

Aemma's eyes met his, wide with fear and pain. "Do what you must," she gasped. "Save our child, Viserys. Promise me."

Viserys felt his heart shatter, but he nodded, pressing a kiss to her trembling hand. "I promise."

The maester and midwives moved quickly, their faces set with grim determination. Viserys stood back, his hands shaking, as they prepared for the terrible task. He could hear the clamor of the tournament outside, a cruel reminder of the celebration that had turned into a nightmare.

The room was filled with the sounds of Aemma's cries and the maester's steady instructions. Viserys felt his world narrowing to this moment, every second stretching into an eternity. And then, a piercing wail broke through the tension.

"It's a boy," one of the midwives exclaimed, holding up the tiny, wriggling form. The babe's cry was strong, a sign of life and promise.

Viserys felt a brief surge of relief, but it was short-lived. "Wait," the maester said, his eyes widening in surprise. "There is another."

The midwives worked quickly, and soon another child was brought into the world, a girl this time, smaller and silent. The room fell into a hushed silence as they examined her, worry etched on their faces.

"She is not crying," one of the midwives whispered, her voice trembling.

Viserys stepped forward, his heart aching. "Vaella," he said softly, naming her after an ancient Targaryen ancestor. "My daughter, Vaella."

The maester nodded, though his expression remained grave. "She lives, but she is weak."

The twins were placed side by side, Baelon strong and crying, while Vaella lay silent and still. Viserys looked down at them, his heart torn between joy and sorrow. He reached out to touch Vaella's tiny hand, and in that moment, her eyes fluttered open, indigo and bright, meeting his with a quiet intensity.

"She will be strong," he murmured, a fierce determination filling him. "She will live."

The room was filled with the mingled sounds of the babes and the distant roar of the tournament, a poignant reminder of the life and death that intertwined in the halls of power. Viserys knew that this day would be remembered, not just for the birth of his heirs, but for the choices and sacrifices that had marked its passing.

...

A few hours later, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen arrived at the nursery, her heart heavy with grief for her mother. She had loved Aemma deeply and the pain of her loss cut through her like a blade. The celebrations outside had turned into whispers of tragedy, and the joy of new life was mingled with the sorrow of death.

Rhaenyra’s steps were slow and measured as she walked through the halls, her mind reeling from the news. She understood, intellectually, why her father had made the choice he did, but it did little to soothe the anger and resentment boiling within her. She had wanted a brother, yes, but not at the cost of her mother’s life. And now, not only had she lost her mother, but her father had chosen a name for her sister without consulting her. She had wanted her sister to be named Visenya, after their legendary ancestor.

As she entered the nursery, she found the room softly lit and quiet, save for the occasional murmur of the maids tending to the infants. Rhaenyra’s gaze fell first upon her brother, Baelon, lying peacefully in his cradle, a small dragon egg nestled beside him, warm and glowing with promise.

"He's so small," she whispered to herself, reaching out to touch Baelon's tiny hand. His fingers curled around hers instinctively, and she felt a pang of tenderness mixed with her sorrow.

Then, she turned her attention to the cradle beside her brother's. Her newborn sister, Vaella, lay there, wide awake and silent. Vaella was pale, almost translucent, with an ethereal quality that unsettled Rhaenyra. Unlike Baelon, there was no dragon egg to keep her warm, yet the babe seemed content, her indigo eyes staring up at Rhaenyra with a calm intensity.

Rhaenyra knelt beside the cradle, her heart aching. "Hello, Vaella," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I'm your sister, Rhaenyra."

"Hello, little sister," Rhaenyra said softly, reaching out to gently stroke Vaella’s cheek. The baby did not react, her gaze unblinking. "Father named you Vaella, but I would have called you Visenya. A name worthy of a queen."

Vaella’s tiny hand moved slightly, as if reaching out, and Rhaenyra took it gently in her own. She marveled at how small and delicate Vaella was, a stark contrast to the strong and robust Baelon.

"She doesn't cry," one of the maids said quietly, approaching Rhaenyra. "She hasn't made a sound since she was born."

Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes never leaving Vaella's face. "She will be strong," she said, echoing her father's earlier words. "She has to be."

The maid hesitated before speaking again. "Your Grace, we were instructed to place a dragon egg in Vaella's cradle as well, but..."

"But what?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone sharp.

"We couldn't find one that seemed... right," the maid replied, her voice faltering. "The eggs are all warm, but none of them felt suitable for her."

Rhaenyra’s gaze hardened. "Then find one," she ordered. "She deserves the same chance as Baelon."

The maid bowed her head and quickly left the room. Rhaenyra turned back to Vaella, her expression softening. "I wanted you to be named Visenya. A name worthy of a queen," she whispered, brushing a finger gently across Vaella's cheek. "But Vaella is a strong name too. You will make it strong."

Vaella’s eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking and serene. Rhaenyra felt a strange sense of calm wash over her, as if the silent babe was imparting some of her tranquility.

She leaned closer, her voice a soft murmur. "I will protect you, Vaella. I will protect both of you. Mother's gone, but you have me. And I will not let anything happen to you."

Rhaenyra stayed there, watching over her siblings, her heart heavy with the weight of her promises and the sorrow of her loss. She knew that the days ahead would be fraught with challenges and dangers, but in that quiet moment, surrounded by the fragile beginnings of new life, she found a glimmer of hope and determination.

The nursery was a haven of calm amidst the storm, and as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Rhaenyra vowed that she would honor her mother's memory by standing strong for her family, no matter the cost.

...

The next day dawned with a hushed stillness that seemed to permeate the entire Red Keep. The jubilation of the previous day had been tempered by the tragedy of Queen Aemma's death, but the court still held a flicker of hope in the promise of the newborn twins. Servants moved quietly through the halls, attending to their duties with a solemn air.

In the nursery, the maids and servants who had tended to the twins throughout the night were greeted by a scene of unexpected and harrowing sorrow. The once lively Baelon, who had been sleeping peacefully beside his dragon egg, was now eerily still in his cradle. His tiny chest no longer rose and fell with breath, his eyes closed in eternal slumber.

The discovery sent a shockwave through the nursery. Gasps of horror and grief filled the room as the realization settled in. The King's heir, his long-awaited son, was dead. The dragon egg that had been placed beside him now seemed like a cruel mockery of the life that had been so abruptly extinguished.

"Fetch the Maester," one of the servants choked out, her hands trembling as she tried to comprehend the tragedy before her. "Quickly!"

Maester Mellos arrived swiftly, his face a mask of concern as he took in the scene. He approached Baelon's cradle with a heavy heart, gently placing his fingers against the babe's tiny neck, hoping against hope for a sign of life. There was none. He bowed his head, his heart sinking with the weight of the loss.

As Mellos turned to the cradle beside Baelon's, a sudden and piercing wail filled the air. It was a sound so unexpected and startling that it caused everyone in the room to freeze. Vaella, the silent and still babe, had come alive with a cry that seemed to resonate with a power far beyond her fragile form.

"By the Seven," Mellos muttered, his eyes wide with astonishment. He moved to Vaella's side, noting the newfound vitality in her eyes, the strength in her cries. She was more alive now than she had been since her birth.

The servants exchanged uneasy glances, their grief for Baelon now mingled with a sense of unease. Mellos looked down at the wailing Vaella, his mind racing. It was an old superstition, a whisper from the past: when one twin died, the other sometimes took their soul, their strength. It was said to be a bad omen, a dark portent.

Mellos kept his thoughts to himself, though the notion unsettled him deeply. "It is a tragedy," he said aloud, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "The Princess Vaella has found her voice, it seems, but the loss of Prince Baelon is a heavy blow to us all."

One of the servants, a young woman with tear-streaked cheeks, looked at Mellos with a mixture of fear and confusion. "What does it mean, Maester?" she asked. "Why now?"

Mellos sighed, shaking his head. "I do not know," he admitted. "But we must inform the King. This loss... it will cripple him."

The servants nodded solemnly, their hearts heavy with the task ahead. As they prepared to deliver the devastating news to King Viserys, Mellos turned back to Vaella. The babe had quieted, her cries giving way to a strange, serene silence. He couldn't shake the feeling that something profound had shifted in the balance of life and death within this room.

"I will note this in my journal," Mellos murmured to himself, making a mental note to document the strange events surrounding the twins. He would keep his suspicions to himself for now, but the memory of Vaella's piercing wail would haunt him for years to come.

As the maids and servants moved to carry out their somber duties, the weight of the tragedy settled over the Red Keep like a shroud. The joyous celebrations of new life had been overshadowed by death, and the realm would feel the ripples of this loss for years to come. King Viserys, now a father and a widower, would have to navigate the treacherous waters of grief and responsibility, his heart forever marked by the sorrow of this day.

...

The day of the funeral dawned cold and overcast, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the somber mood of the assembled mourners. All gathered before the grand pyre that had been erected outside the Red Keep, a stark testament to the loss of both Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon. The scent of incense and the crackling of torches filled the air, but a profound silence hung over the gathering, broken only by the distant sound of waves against the shore.

King Viserys stood closest to the pyre, his shoulders slumped and his eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights of weeping. His grief was a palpable thing, weighing down the very air around him. He seemed almost a ghost of himself, hollowed out by the dual tragedies that had befallen him.

A little further down, Rhaenyra stood with her newborn sister Vaella cradled in her arms. She held the babe tightly, as if drawing strength from her tiny, warm presence. Vaella was silent, her indigo eyes wide and watchful, taking in the scene with an uncanny stillness.

Behind Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon Targaryen watched with a mixture of sorrow and concern. He stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. "It's time," he said softly. "Your father needs you now."

Rhaenyra turned her tear-streaked face towards her uncle, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and resignation. "I will never be a son," she whispered, her voice trembling. "And neither will Vaella."

Daemon's expression softened, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "You are stronger than any son, Rhaenyra. And your father needs that strength now more than ever."

Taking a deep breath, Rhaenyra nodded. She stepped forward, feeling the weight of her duty pressing down upon her young shoulders. She could feel the eyes of the gathered nobles and courtiers upon her, their silent expectation adding to her burden. She glanced at her father, who seemed lost in his own world of sorrow, barely aware of his surroundings.

With tears streaming down her face, Rhaenyra looked up at Syrax, her beloved dragon, who waited patiently beside the pyre. The golden beast’s eyes glowed with a fierce intelligence, and she seemed to understand the gravity of the moment.

"Dracarys," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice breaking.

In an instant, Syrax unleashed a torrent of dragonfire. The flames roared to life, consuming the pyre in a brilliant blaze that lit up the overcast sky. The heat was intense, and the air filled with the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh. The mourners stepped back, shielding their faces from the searing heat, but Rhaenyra stood her ground, her eyes fixed on the flames.

The crackling of the fire was accompanied by the soft sobs and murmurs of those gathered. The loss of their queen and the young prince was a blow to the realm, and the grief of the people was a reflection of the profound sorrow felt by their king.

Rhaenyra looked down at Vaella, her tiny face illuminated by the firelight. "You are all I have left of her," she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her sister’s forehead. "I will protect you, always."

Vaella gazed up at her, silent and solemn, as if she understood the weight of her sister's words. Rhaenyra felt a fierce protectiveness surge within her. She might never be the son her father had wished for, but she would be strong for him, for her family, and for her realm.

As the pyre burned, Rhaenyra stood with her sister in her arms, a silent vow forming in her heart. She would honor her mother's memory, and she would ensure that Vaella grew up knowing the love and strength that had defined their mother. The flames roared higher, a testament to the fire that burned within the Targaryen bloodline, a fire that Rhaenyra vowed would never be extinguished.

...

Six months had passed since the tragic deaths of Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon, and King Viserys had made a decision that shocked the realm. He chose to marry Alicent Hightower, the daughter of his Hand, Otto Hightower. This alliance was seen by many as a strategic move to stabilize the kingdom, but it also stirred whispers and discontent among the nobles. In a further surprising move, Viserys named his daughter Rhaenyra as the heir to the Iron Throne, a decision that defied tradition and set tongues wagging throughout Westeros.

Another year passed, and Queen Alicent gave birth to a son, Aegon. The realm celebrated the birth of a male heir, but the decision to place him in the nursery with Vaella, who continued to grow normally and thrive, added an interesting dynamic to the royal family. Despite Rhaenyra's attempts to give her sister a dragon egg to hatch, Vaella showed no interest in any of them. After several unsuccessful tries, Rhaenyra stopped bringing the eggs, accepting that Vaella was different in her own way.

The connection between Aegon and Vaella was immediate and profound. Vaella's quiet presence seemed to calm the newborn prince, who basked in the comfort of his half-sister's company. This bond often agitated Rhaenyra, who felt a mixture of protectiveness and jealousy. She would frequently 'steal' Vaella away from the nursery, taking her for walks around the Red Keep or in the gardens, much to the dismay and complaints of the servants. Aegon would become fussy and cry until Vaella was returned to him, a fact that both frustrated and amused Rhaenyra.

One sunny afternoon, Rhaenyra and Vaella were walking through the lush gardens of the Red Keep. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided a serene backdrop. Vaella, now a curious toddler with pale blonde hair and indigo eyes, held tightly to Rhaenyra's hand, her steps wobbly but determined.

"Do you like the flowers, Vaella?" Rhaenyra asked, kneeling down to pick a bright red rose and handing it to her sister.

Vaella nodded, her eyes wide with wonder as she examined the flower. "Pretty," she murmured, her voice soft and clear.

Rhaenyra smiled, but her expression quickly turned somber. "You know, sometimes I wish things were different," she said, more to herself than to Vaella. "I wish Mother were here to see you grow. She would have loved you so much."

Vaella looked up at her sister, her indigo eyes filled with an understanding far beyond her years. "Mama," she said simply, reaching up to touch Rhaenyra's face.

Rhaenyra's heart ached with the weight of her sister's innocence and the loss they both shared. "Yes, Mama," she whispered, hugging Vaella tightly. "But you have me, and I will always be here for you."

As they continued their walk, they passed a group of servants who were nervously whispering among themselves. One of them, a young maid, approached Rhaenyra hesitantly. "Your Grace, Prince Aegon is very fussy. He won't stop crying without Princess Vaella."

Rhaenyra sighed, feeling the familiar pang of frustration. "He can wait a little longer," she replied curtly. "Vaella needs fresh air and sunshine."

The maid bowed her head, retreating with a worried glance. Rhaenyra led Vaella to a shaded bench under a sprawling oak tree, lifting her sister onto her lap. "You know, Vaella, sometimes I feel like I can't do anything right," she confessed, brushing a strand of hair from Vaella's face. "But when I'm with you, it feels like everything is okay."

Vaella looked up at her with a solemn expression. "Love Nyra," she said, wrapping her small arms around her sister's neck.

Rhaenyra felt tears prick her eyes, but she blinked them away, smiling through her sadness. "And I love you, my sweet Vaella," she whispered. "Always."

As they sat together in the peaceful garden, the bond between the sisters grew stronger, a beacon of light amidst the complexities of court life and the looming shadows of their past. The challenges ahead were many, but in each other's company, they found solace and strength to face whatever the future held.

...

Two years had passed, and Vaella continued to grow normally, blossoming into a lively child. She spent her days in the company of her half-brother Aegon, who refused to be parted from her for long. This inseparable bond often infuriated Rhaenyra, who cherished her moments alone with Vaella but had to contend with Aegon's tantrums whenever his sister was taken away.

Despite Rhaenyra's best efforts, Aegon and Vaella were rarely separated. The young prince's attachment to his half-sister was so strong that the servants, exasperated by Aegon's constant cries, eventually allowed the two children to sleep in the same crib. It was the only way to ensure Aegon's peaceful slumber.

In the royal chambers, Alicent Hightower, now visibly pregnant with her second child, often expressed her concerns to King Viserys about this arrangement. One evening, as she lay in bed with Viserys beside her, she broached the subject once more.

"This is not healthy, Viserys," Alicent said, her voice tinged with frustration. "Aegon is far too dependent on Vaella. They should not be sleeping in the same crib. It's not proper."

Viserys, weary from the day's duties, sighed and rubbed his temples. "They're just children, Alicent. They'll grow out of it. Let them be."

Alicent's eyes flashed with irritation. "It's not just about them growing out of it. It sets a bad precedent. Aegon should be learning to be independent, not clinging to his sister all the time."

Viserys shrugged, clearly not wanting to engage in another argument. "They're happy, and they're safe. That's all that matters."

Alicent opened her mouth to retort, but then thought better of it. Instead, she turned away, fuming silently. Her pregnancy had made her more sensitive to the disturbances in the household, and Aegon's dependency on Vaella was just one of many concerns weighing on her mind.

Meanwhile, in the nursery, Rhaenyra watched as Aegon and Vaella played together. Aegon's laughter echoed through the room as Vaella chased him, her own giggles filling the air. Rhaenyra felt a mix of love and exasperation as she approached them.

"Vaella, come with me," Rhaenyra said, holding out her hand. "Let's go for a walk."

Aegon's face immediately crumpled, and he clung to Vaella. "No! Vaella stays here!"

Rhaenyra's patience was wearing thin. "Aegon, you can't always have her with you. She needs to spend time with me too."

Aegon shook his head vehemently, his eyes filling with tears. "No! Vaella stays!"

Rhaenyra sighed, knowing that any attempt to separate them would end in another tantrum. She knelt down and gently pried Aegon's hands from Vaella. "I'll bring her back soon, I promise."

As she led Vaella out of the nursery, the sound of Aegon's wails echoed down the hallway. The servants exchanged resigned looks, knowing it was only a matter of time before Vaella would be brought back to soothe the young prince.

In the gardens, Rhaenyra and Vaella walked hand in hand. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the path. Rhaenyra looked down at her sister, her heart aching with a mix of love and frustration.

"Why do you let him cling to you so much, Vaella?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone softer now that they were alone. "Don't you want to have time just for us?"

Vaella looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "Aegon needs me," she said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "He cries when I'm not there."

Rhaenyra's heart softened at her sister's words. She knelt down to Vaella's level, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I know he does, but I need you too, Vaella. You're my sister, and I love you."

Vaella smiled and wrapped her arms around Rhaenyra's neck. "I love you too, Nyra. Always."

As they embraced, Rhaenyra felt a renewed sense of determination. She would find a way to balance her love for Vaella with the demands of their unusual family dynamic. No matter the challenges, she would protect and cherish her sister, just as she had promised on that fateful day by the pyre.

Back in the royal chambers, Alicent lay awake, her thoughts troubled. She placed a hand on her growing belly and sighed. The future seemed more uncertain than ever, but she vowed to do whatever it took to ensure the safety and well-being of her children. As she drifted off to sleep, her mind remained filled with the complexities of their intertwined destinies, each step a delicate dance in the ever-shifting sands of power and family.

...

Vaella was six years old, and her fascination with dragons had only grown with time. Despite her lack of interest in dragon eggs, her eyes would light up whenever she saw Syrax, Rhaenyra’s majestic golden dragon. One crisp morning, Rhaenyra decided it was time for her sister to experience the thrill of flying.

Rhaenyra led Vaella to the Dragonpit, where Syrax awaited. The dragon’s eyes gleamed with intelligence as Rhaenyra approached, her scales shimmering in the early morning light. Vaella’s excitement was palpable, her small hand gripping Rhaenyra’s tightly.

“Are you ready, Vaella?” Rhaenyra asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Vaella nodded eagerly. “Yes, Rhaenyra. I want to fly!”

As Rhaenyra helped Vaella climb onto Syrax’s back, the young girl’s laughter filled the air, a sound of pure joy and exhilaration. With a final check to ensure Vaella was secure, Rhaenyra mounted behind her and gave Syrax the signal to take flight.

The dragon’s powerful wings beat against the air, lifting them off the ground. Vaella’s eyes widened in wonder as the Red Keep grew smaller below them, the world unfolding in a breathtaking panorama. The wind whipped through their hair, and Vaella’s laughter echoed in the skies.

Meanwhile, back in the nursery, Aegon was throwing a fit. He had watched in dismay as Rhaenyra took Vaella away, his cries growing louder with each passing moment. Alicent, now heavily pregnant with her third child, tried to soothe him, but Aegon was inconsolable.

“Where is Vaella?” Aegon wailed, tears streaming down his face. “I want Vaella!”

Alicent knelt beside her son, her patience wearing thin. “Aegon, you need to learn to be apart from Vaella. She has other things to do, and you need to be strong without her.”

Aegon shook his head vehemently, his face red with anger and frustration. “No! You can’t take Vaella away from me! Rhaenyra can’t take her away either!”

In his tantrum, Aegon grabbed one of his toys—a wooden dragon—and threw it across the room, where it shattered against the wall. His screams grew louder, and Alicent’s attempts to calm him seemed only to fuel his rage.

“Aegon, please,” Alicent said, her voice strained. “This behavior is unacceptable. You must learn to control yourself.”

But Aegon was beyond reason, his cries echoing through the halls of the Red Keep. Alicent stood, her hands clenched at her sides, her irritation mounting. She had tried to reason with Viserys about their son’s dependence on Vaella, but he had merely shrugged it off, much to her annoyance.

As Aegon continued to scream for Rhaenyra to bring Vaella back, Alicent felt a surge of frustration. She stormed out of the nursery, determined to find Viserys and make him understand the gravity of the situation.

She found him in the council chamber, discussing matters of state with her father, Otto Hightower, and other advisors. Ignoring the decorum, Alicent marched up to him, her eyes blazing with anger.

“Viserys, we need to talk,” she said, her voice low but fierce.

Viserys looked up, surprised by her sudden appearance. “Alicent, what is it?”

“It’s Aegon,” she said, struggling to keep her composure. “He’s in the nursery throwing a tantrum because Vaella is not there. He’s become too dependent on her, and it’s not healthy. You need to take this seriously.”

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alicent, they’re just children. Siblings often form close bonds.”

“This is more than that, and you know it,” Alicent snapped. “He can’t be apart from her for even a moment without falling apart. This dependency will only grow if we don’t address it now.”

Viserys looked at her, seeing the worry and frustration etched on her face. He nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll speak with Aegon. But give them time, Alicent. They’re still so young.”

Alicent sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering frustration. “Thank you, Viserys. I just want what’s best for them.”

Meanwhile, high above the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Vaella soared through the skies on Syrax. The city of King’s Landing spread out below them like a tapestry, and Vaella’s eyes sparkled with wonder.

“This is amazing, Rhaenyra!” Vaella shouted over the wind, her laughter infectious.

Rhaenyra smiled, her heart swelling with pride and love for her sister. “I knew you’d love it, Vaella. There’s nothing quite like flying.”

As they flew, Rhaenyra felt a sense of peace. Despite the challenges and frustrations that awaited them on the ground, up here, they were free. She vowed to cherish these moments with Vaella, to protect and nurture her sister as best she could. For now, they had the sky, and that was enough.

...

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Vaella returned from their exhilarating flight on Syrax. The dragon landed gracefully in the courtyard, and Rhaenyra helped Vaella down, her heart still racing from the thrill of their adventure. The moment their feet touched the ground, Aegon came running toward them, his face streaked with tears and his cries echoing off the stone walls.

"Vaella!" Aegon wailed, rushing to her and wrapping his small arms tightly around her. "You’re back!"

Vaella hugged him back, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I’m here, Aegon. I’m here."

Rhaenyra watched, her annoyance simmering beneath the surface. "Aegon, you can’t just cling to Vaella like that all the time," she said, her tone sharp. "She needs her own space too."

Aegon looked up at Rhaenyra, his eyes filled with defiance and tears. "You can’t take her away from me! She’s mine!"

Rhaenyra’s patience was wearing thin. She knew it was foolish to argue with such a young child, but the possessiveness in Aegon’s voice grated on her. Vaella was the last connection she had to their mother, and the thought of sharing her sister in this way was intolerable.

"Vaella is not yours, Aegon," Rhaenyra snapped, her voice cold. "She is her own person, and you don’t own her."

Aegon’s face crumpled, and he let out another wail, his small body shaking with the force of his tantrum. "No! No! Vaella is mine! You can’t have her!"

The servants in the courtyard exchanged weary glances, clearly exasperated by the scene unfolding before them. Vaella stood in the middle, unsure of what to do, her eyes darting between her sister and her brother.

"Aegon," Vaella said softly, trying to soothe him. "It’s okay. I’m here now."

Alicent, drawn by the noise, arrived in the courtyard, her face set in a mixture of concern and frustration. "What is going on here?" she demanded, her gaze shifting from Rhaenyra to Aegon, who was still clinging to Vaella.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with anger as she looked at Alicent. "Your son doesn’t understand that Vaella isn’t his to command," she said sharply. "He needs to learn some boundaries."

Alicent’s expression hardened. "Rhaenyra, he’s just a child. He doesn’t understand these things yet."

Rhaenyra’s temper flared, and she took a step forward. "And he never will if you keep coddling him like this! Vaella is not his to cling to every time he wants. She’s my sister too, and I won’t have her treated like a toy!"

Alicent’s face went pale, and she took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "This isn’t helping anyone, Rhaenyra. We need to find a way to help Aegon understand without making things worse."

Rhaenyra’s eyes filled with tears of frustration. "Vaella is all I have left of my mother. I won’t let him take her from me."

With that, Rhaenyra turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving the courtyard in tense silence. Alicent watched her go, a sigh escaping her lips. She turned her attention back to Aegon, who was still clinging to Vaella, his sobs quieter but no less heartbreaking.

"Come here, Aegon," Alicent said softly, kneeling down to his level. "It’s okay. Vaella isn’t going anywhere."

Aegon looked up at her, his face streaked with tears. "But she left me. Rhaenyra took her."

Alicent gently pried his hands from Vaella and pulled him into a hug. "I know, darling. But sometimes Vaella needs to do things with Rhaenyra too. You’ll see her again soon, I promise."

Aegon nodded, sniffling, but his grip on Vaella’s hand remained tight. Vaella, sensing his distress, squeezed his hand back, her expression one of quiet understanding.

Alicent sighed, looking at the two children. "Let’s get you both inside. It’s getting late."

As she led them back into the Red Keep, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of worry. The tensions between Rhaenyra and Aegon were growing, and she knew that unless something changed, these small conflicts could become much larger as they all grew older. For now, she focused on comforting her son and ensuring that Vaella felt secure, hoping that they would find a way to navigate these troubled waters together.

...

Fifteen-year-old Vaella Targaryen sat quietly beside her father, King Viserys I, in his chambers. The room was filled with the intricate model of Old Valyria that Viserys had been painstakingly working on for years. The delicate spires and towers of the ancient city gleamed under the soft light of the candles, casting intricate shadows on the walls. Vaella's small hands delicately placed a tiny bridge between two towers, her face scrunched up in concentration.

Viserys, now looking much older than his years, his health visibly deteriorating, watched his daughter with a fond smile. Despite his efforts to hide it, Vaella knew he was unwell. The signs were clear in the way he moved, slower and more deliberate, and the occasional wince of pain that crossed his features.

"You're doing wonderfully, Vaella," Viserys said, his voice soft but filled with pride. "You have a steady hand."

Vaella smiled up at him, her indigo eyes bright. "Thank you, Father. I love working on this with you."

Viserys nodded, his gaze drifting to the model before him. "It's a piece of our history. A connection to our roots." He paused, then turned to her. "How was your time with your nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys?"

Vaella's face lit up. "It was interesting. Maester Mellos was teaching us about Targaryen history, the stories of our ancestors. Then Laenor told us about the great sailors who ventured all the way to the Summer Isles. I love hearing about their adventures."

Viserys chuckled, a raspy sound that ended in a slight cough. "I'm glad you're learning and enjoying your time with them. It's important to understand where we come from." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "And how is Aegon handling the changes?"

Vaella's smile faded slightly, and she frowned, her brow furrowing. "Not very well, Father. He doesn't like it when I'm away. He gets upset and still sometimes throws tantrums."

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aegon has always struggled with separation. He has a strong bond with you."

Vaella nodded, looking thoughtful. "I know he loves me, and I love him too. But sometimes it's hard. He doesn't understand that I need to spend time with others too."

Viserys placed a gentle hand on Vaella's shoulder. "It's not easy being the center of someone's world. Aegon needs to learn that you have your own life, your own interests."

Vaella looked up at him, her eyes filled with determination. "I'll help him understand, Father. I'll be patient with him."

Viserys smiled, his eyes softening. "You're wise beyond your years, Vaella. Your kindness and patience will serve you well." He paused, his expression turning more serious. "And how are you, my dear? How are you handling all these changes?"

Vaella shrugged slightly. "It's a lot, but I have you and Rhaenyra. And I love spending time with my nephews. They make me laugh and I enjoy learning with them."

Viserys nodded, feeling a pang of pride and sorrow for his young daughter. "You're a strong girl, Vaella. Stronger than you know. Always remember that."

Vaella hugged her father tightly, feeling the frailty in his embrace but also the warmth of his love. "I will, Father. I'll always remember."

...

In a quieter corner of the Red Keep, Aegon paced back and forth, his young face twisted in frustration. His younger brother, Aemond, sat nearby, trying to focus on a book but finding it impossible with Aegon's incessant complaining.

"They took her again, Aemond! They took Vaella to spend more time with Rhaenyra and her bastards," Aegon fumed, kicking at a loose stone on the floor. "They think those boys are more worthy than me!"

Aemond looked up from his book, his blue eyes sharp. "You shouldn't talk like that, Aegon. It's dangerous."

Aegon scoffed, his face a mask of indignation. "Why shouldn't I? Mother calls them bastards all the time. Everyone knows it's true."

Aemond closed his book with a sigh, setting it aside. "Just because Mother says it doesn't mean you should repeat it. It's disrespectful, and it will get you into trouble."

Aegon glared at his brother, his anger unabated. "You’re just jealous because Vaella likes me more than you."

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite his annoyance. "Why is Vaella so special to you, Aegon? Why do you always want her around?"

Aegon’s expression hardened. "You're stupid for even asking that, Aemond. She just is. Nobody loves me like Vaella does. She understands me."

Aemond rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. "That's stupid. She's just a girl. She can’t make everything better."

Aegon stepped closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "Shut up, Aemond. You don't understand anything."

Aemond shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Maybe I don't. But I heard Maester Mellos talking to Mother once. He said Vaella ate her twin. Maybe that’s why you think she’s so special. She’s got something extra from her dead brother."

Aegon’s face contorted with a mixture of horror and fascination. "What are you talking about?"

Aemond smirked, enjoying the shift in power. "It’s true. Mellos said Vaella didn't cry when she was born, not until her brother died. Maybe she took something from him. Maybe that’s why you feel so close to her."

Aegon stood silent for a moment, absorbing his brother’s words. Then, a twisted smile spread across his face. "Good. If her dead brother gave her something extra, then it's better for me. He would have taken her from me too."

Aemond frowned, not expecting that reaction. "You’re strange, Aegon. You know that?"

Aegon shrugged, a hint of madness in his eyes. "Maybe. But Vaella is mine. And no one will take her from me. Not Rhaenyra, not anyone."

Aemond sighed, shaking his head. "You’re going to get us all in trouble one day, Aegon. Mark my words."

Aegon ignored his brother, his mind already returning to thoughts of Vaella and the frustration of being separated from her. He would find a way to keep her close, no matter what it took.

…

The morning sun cast long shadows over the Dragonpit as Jacaerys, Lucerys, Aegon, Aemond, and Vaella made their way to the massive structure. The air was filled with the heady scent of dragon musk and the sound of wings flapping. Inside the pit, three dragons awaited their riders, their scales shimmering in the sunlight. Vaella stood quietly by Aemond's side, the two of them the only ones without dragons to bond with. While Aemond's frustration was evident, Vaella seemed content, her serene demeanor a stark contrast to her younger brother's visible agitation.

As the dragons were led out one by one, Vaella watched with a mix of awe and quiet longing. When Sunfyre appeared, his golden scales glinting brilliantly, Aegon eagerly grabbed Vaella's hand and pulled her along. "Come on, Vaella, let's attend to Sunfyre together."

Vaella allowed herself to be led, her eyes widening as they approached the magnificent dragon. She gently stroked Sunfyre's scales, feeling the warmth emanating from his body. Aegon stood beside her, his pride evident as he showed off his bond with the dragon. Vaella smiled softly, her affection for her brother momentarily overshadowing her usual frustrations with him.

Later, once the dragons were fed and content, Aegon let go of Vaella's hand and turned his attention to Aemond. There was a mischievous glint in his eye that Vaella did not like. Aegon, Jacaerys, and Lucerys huddled together, whispering and giggling before calling Aemond over.

"Come here, Aemond!" Aegon shouted, his voice filled with feigned excitement. "We found a dragon for you!"

Aemond's eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and suspicion. He approached cautiously, glancing back at Vaella for reassurance. She gave him a small, supportive smile, but her unease grew.

As Aemond drew closer, the boys stepped aside to reveal a pig adorned with makeshift dragon wings and a painted snout. "Behold, the Pink Dread!" Aegon announced with mock grandeur, barely able to contain his laughter.

Jacaerys and Lucerys burst into laughter, pointing at the pig and doubling over with mirth. Aemond's face turned bright red with humiliation, his eyes welling up with tears. Vaella's expression darkened, her initial amusement giving way to anger.

"Aegon, Jace, Luke, that's enough!" Vaella's voice was sharp, cutting through the laughter. "How dare you humiliate Aemond like this?"

Aegon's laughter faltered as he met Vaella's furious gaze. "It was just a joke, Vaella. We didn't mean—"

"Do I deserve the same?" Vaella interrupted, her voice cold. "I don't have a dragon either. Is this how you plan to treat me too?"

Aegon stumbled over his words, his face turning pale. "No, Vaella, I didn't mean—"

But Vaella had already turned on her heel, her expression stormy as she walked away from the Dragonpit. Aegon rushed after her, desperation in his voice. "Vaella, wait! Please, don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Vaella stopped and spun around to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. "You always do this, Aegon. You act without thinking and hurt the people who care about you. Aemond looks up to you, and this is how you treat him?"

Aegon reached out, but Vaella stepped back, shaking her head. "I thought you were better than this."

"Vaella, I'm sorry," Aegon pleaded, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to hurt you or Aemond. Please, forgive me."

Vaella took a deep breath, her anger still simmering but her voice softening slightly. "Apologize to Aemond. Make it right with him. And think before you act next time."

Aegon nodded, his eyes filled with regret. "I will. I promise."

As Vaella turned and walked away, Aegon stood there, watching her go with a heavy heart. He knew he had to make amends, not just with Aemond but also with Vaella. The bonds of family were fragile, and he had to learn to cherish and protect them.

Inside the Dragonpit, Aemond stood alone, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Vaella approached him, her expression softening. "I'm sorry they treated you like that, Aemond. You deserve better."

Aemond looked up, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Vaella. You're the only one who seems to understand."

Vaella hugged her brother tightly. "We'll find our own dragons one day, Aemond. Until then, we have each other."

As they walked away together, the bond between them strengthened, a promise of loyalty and support in a world filled with uncertainty and strife.

…

That evening, Vaella sat in her chambers, the events of the day weighing heavily on her mind. The candles flickered softly, casting gentle shadows on the walls, as she tried to find some semblance of peace. Her thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.

“Vaella, it’s me,” Aegon’s voice came through the door, hesitant yet determined.

Vaella sighed, already knowing why he was here. “Come in, Aegon.”

Aegon entered, closing the door behind him. He looked uncertain, his usual bravado tempered by a mix of guilt and frustration. “I wanted to apologize again. The idea was Jace and Luke’s, not mine.”

Vaella made a grimace, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Then why does it reek of you, Aegon?”

Aegon’s irritation flared, and he stepped closer, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you care so much about annoying Aemond? He’s just—”

“He’s my brother too, Aegon,” Vaella interrupted sharply, her eyes blazing. “Just like you are.”

Aegon pressed on, his voice lower but intense. “But you love me more, don’t you?”

Vaella frowned, seeing the familiar possessiveness in Aegon’s eyes. It had not diminished with time, if anything, it had grown. “Aegon, I will always love you. But I also love Jace, Luke, Aemond, and even little Joffrey. We’re all family.”

Aegon stepped even closer, their faces now mere inches apart. “But you love me more, right?” he asked, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper.

Vaella’s heart pounded in her chest, her emotions a whirlwind of love, frustration, and understanding. She met his gaze steadily, her voice soft but firm. “Yes, Aegon. I love you more.”

Aegon’s tense expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead, a gesture that held both affection and possessiveness. He then began to shed his attire, his movements slow and deliberate. Vaella watched him, her own feelings a mix of resignation and affection.

“Aegon,” she warned gently, “if your mother finds out we’re sharing a bed again, she’ll yell at both of us.”

Aegon shrugged, climbing into her bed with a dismissive smile. “Let her yell. I don’t care. Come here.”

Vaella’s resolve wavered, and eventually, she couldn’t help but smile. She slipped into the bed beside him, the ritual familiar and comforting. They had been sharing a bed since they were babes, a habit that had persisted despite Alicent’s disapproval.

As they lay together, Aegon wrapped his arms around Vaella, holding her close. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his embrace was soothing, a reminder of their unbreakable bond despite the chaos around them.

They didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, they lay in the quiet, drawing comfort from each other’s presence. Vaella felt Aegon’s breath against her hair, his hold on her gentle yet possessive. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax for the first time that day.

“Vaella,” Aegon murmured, his voice soft in the darkness. “I promise I’ll never let anyone come between us. Not Rhaenyra, not anyone.”

Vaella sighed, her heart aching with a mixture of love and sadness. “I know, Aegon. And I’ll always be here for you.”

They held onto each other, finding solace in their shared closeness. The world outside might be fraught with tension and uncertainty, but in this moment, they were simply a brother and sister, bound by love and loyalty.

…

Alicent Hightower strode through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, her frustration mounting with each step. She had been looking for her eldest son, Aegon, to confront him about the cruel prank he and Rhaenyra’s sons had played on Aemond. Finding his chambers empty had only intensified her annoyance, as she knew exactly where he would be—once again with his half-sister, Vaella.

Alicent had tried her best to separate the two as they grew older, understanding the potential complications their bond could bring. But no matter her efforts, Aegon always found his way back to Vaella, their connection unbroken. She couldn't help but recall Maester Mellos’ words about Vaella being strange since birth, and the implications of that observation gnawed at her.

Meanwhile, in Vaella's chambers, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to Alicent's rising tension. Vaella and Aegon lay in her bed, still entwined in their embrace. Aegon’s lips trailed down her cheek to her neck, eliciting a soft hitch in her breath. She clutched at him gently, feeling the warmth of his body against hers.

“Aegon,” she whispered, her voice breathy with both pleasure and concern, “promise me again you won’t mock Aemond like that again.”

Aegon’s kisses paused for a moment as he sighed. “I promise,” he murmured before resuming his tender exploration. His hands roamed over her curves, their touch growing more familiar and intimate with time. His movements against her nightgown became more urgent, her quiet moans filling the room.

Just as Aegon’s urgency peaked and he found release, spilling his seed onto Vaella’s thigh, the door to her chambers swung open. Both Aegon and Vaella sat up abruptly, alarmed and disheveled.

Alicent’s worried frown deepened as she took in the sight before her. She quickly closed the door behind her, her gaze intense. “Did you do it?” she demanded, her voice strained with a mix of anger and fear.

Vaella blushed deeply, realizing the insinuation behind Alicent's question. “No, Mother. We didn’t… we never go that far,” she stammered, her words tumbling over each other.

Alicent sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly with relief, though her irritation remained. She turned her focus to Aegon. “And what about the pig, Aegon? The Pink Dread?”

Aegon deflected, his tone dismissive. “It was Jace and Luke’s idea.”

Alicent scolded him, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t lie to me, Aegon. You were just as much a part of it.”

Aegon rolled his eyes and lay back on the bed, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation. “Fine, whatever,” he muttered.

Vaella interjected, her voice calm but firm. “I made him promise not to mock Aemond again, Mother.”

Alicent’s gaze softened slightly as she looked at Vaella. Despite the tension, she recognized the sincerity in her stepdaughter’s words. “Good. That’s good,” she said quietly. Before leaving, she turned back to them, her expression resolute. “This is the last time you two will share a bed.”

Vaella nodded, understanding the gravity of Alicent’s words but knowing deep down it was a promise neither she nor Aegon intended to keep. “Yes, Mother,” she replied.

Alicent gave them one last look, a mixture of concern and resignation in her eyes, before she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As the door clicked shut, Aegon sat up again, his demeanor shifting from defiance to a more contemplative mood. “She won’t keep us apart, you know,” he said softly, reaching out to take Vaella’s hand.

Vaella squeezed his hand gently, a small smile playing on her lips. “I know, Aegon. But we should be careful.”

He nodded, pulling her closer. “Always,” he promised.

They lay back down together, the quiet of the room wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. In the stillness of the night, they found solace in each other's presence, knowing that no matter what, they would face the world together.

…

The meeting of the small council was underway in the grand chamber of the Red Keep. The air was thick with the scent of burning candles and the tension of unresolved conflicts. Rhaenyra, dressed in her regal black and red attire, sat at the head of the table, her face composed but her eyes betraying the urgency of her thoughts. King Viserys, though visibly weakened by his illness, was present, his presence lending an air of gravitas to the proceedings. Alicent Hightower, her face a mask of controlled composure, sat beside him, her eyes watchful and calculating.

As the discussions turned to matters of succession and alliances, Rhaenyra seized the moment to present her proposal. "To ease the tensions between our families," she began, her voice steady and clear, "I propose that my son, Jacaerys, be betrothed to Helaena. This union would strengthen our family bonds."

A murmur ran through the room, and all eyes turned to Alicent, who clenched her hands in her lap to keep her composure. "And to further show goodwill," Rhaenyra continued, "when Syrax lays her next clutch of eggs, Aemond may choose an egg for himself."

Alicent's face tightened, her distress at the idea of her daughter marrying a boy widely rumored to be a bastard threatening to show. She forced herself to remain calm, her voice measured as she replied. "While your proposal is... thoughtful, Princess, I counter with a suggestion of my own. Let Aegon and Vaella be engaged to each other instead."

Rhaenyra's eyes flashed with anger, but she controlled her temper. "That is out of the question," she said firmly. "Vaella deserves more than a life tied to Aegon."

Viserys, who had been silent, finally spoke up, his voice weak but resolute. "I agree with Rhaenyra. Aegon is my son, but he is not suitable for Vaella."

Alicent's composure slipped for a moment, her eyes blazing with frustration. "You did nothing to sever the link between them, Viserys. And now you dispute this match? How can Rhaenyra's son be good enough for Helaena, but our son is not good enough for Vaella?"

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aegon is impulsive and lacks the qualities necessary to care for someone as precious as Vaella. She deserves a kind and understanding partner."

Alicent stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. "This is not about what Vaella deserves," she snapped, her voice shaking with barely controlled anger. "This is about your favoritism, your willingness to sacrifice my children’s future for the sake of Rhaenyra's."

Rhaenyra remained seated, her expression unyielding. "Alicent, this is not about favoritism. It's about what is best for Vaella and the realm. Jacaerys and Helaena's union would benefit everyone."

Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, her frustration and anger boiling over. "I will not allow my daughter to be used as a pawn in your game, Rhaenyra. This discussion is over."

With that, Alicent turned and stormed out of the chamber, her mind churning with resentment. How could Rhaenyra's bastard be deemed good enough for Helaena, yet Vaella be too good for her son? The injustice of it all gnawed at her, fueling her determination to find a way to secure her children's future.

Back in the council chamber, an uneasy silence settled over the room. Viserys looked tired, his earlier resolve waning. "Let us continue," he said quietly. "There are other matters to discuss."

Rhaenyra nodded, her mind already moving to the next topic, but the tension from the earlier confrontation lingered. She knew that Alicent's anger was far from quelled and that the coming days would bring new challenges. But for now, she focused on the task at hand, determined to protect her family and secure a future where they could all find peace.

…

Vaella Targaryen noticed the change in the atmosphere of the Red Keep after the birth of her sister Rhaenyra's third son, Joffrey. The castle felt like a simmering pot, ready to boil over. The departure of Harwin Strong and his father, Lyonel, back to Harrenhal only added to the tension. Whispers and sideways glances became more frequent, and the sense of unease permeated the halls.

One afternoon, as Vaella was wandering the corridors, she overheard some of the servants talking in hushed tones. "Did you hear? Princess Rhaenyra is taking her family to Dragonstone."

Vaella's heart skipped a beat. The idea of her sister leaving was unthinkable. She hurried through the winding passages, her mind racing with worry and confusion, until she found Rhaenyra in her chambers, packing her belongings.

"Rhaenyra!" Vaella cried, bursting into the room. "Is it true? Are you leaving for Dragonstone?"

Rhaenyra turned to her, her face calm but her eyes betraying the storm of emotions within. "Yes, Vaella. We are leaving."

Vaella felt a lump in her throat. "But why? Father will be devastated. And I can't bear the thought of losing you. Please, you can't leave me here."

Rhaenyra walked over to her sister and placed her hands on Vaella's shoulders. "You know why I must leave," she said gently. "The situation here is becoming untenable. For the safety of my children and myself, we need to be away from the court and its intrigues."

Vaella's eyes filled with tears. She knew the truth about the parentage of Rhaenyra's children, but it mattered little to her. They were her nephews, and she loved them dearly. "But people will talk no matter what you do," she said, her voice trembling. "Why can't I come with you?"

Rhaenyra sighed, her heart aching at the sight of her sister's distress. She pulled Vaella into a tight embrace. "You are so brave, Vaella," she whispered. "But I need you to stay here and look after our father. His health is failing, and he needs someone he can trust by his side."

Vaella clung to Rhaenyra, her tears soaking into her sister's dress. "I don't want to lose you," she said, her voice muffled.

Rhaenyra pulled back slightly, looking into Vaella's indigo eyes. "You won't lose me. We'll write to each other, and I'll visit whenever I can. But you must promise me that you'll be strong and take care of Father. He needs you more than ever now."

Vaella nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of the responsibility. "I promise," she whispered.

Rhaenyra kissed her sister's forehead, a bittersweet smile on her lips. "You are my heart, Vaella. And I know you will do great things. Stay strong, for both of us."

As Rhaenyra continued to pack, Vaella stood by, feeling a mix of sorrow and determination. The castle felt more oppressive than ever, but she knew that her sister was right. She had to be strong for their father, to be the anchor he needed in these troubled times.

The day Rhaenyra and her family left for Dragonstone, Vaella stood beside her father, watching the dragons take flight. The sky was filled with the beating of powerful wings, and Vaella felt a tear slip down her cheek. She glanced at Viserys, who looked frail and weary, a shadow of the king he once was. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"Don't worry, Father," she said softly. "I'll be here for you. Always."

Viserys looked down at his youngest daughter, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and sadness. "Thank you, Vaella," he whispered, his voice trembling. "You are my strength."

As the dragons disappeared into the horizon, Vaella felt a sense of resolve settle over her. She would honor her sister's trust and protect their father, no matter the cost.

[applepie-enthusiast]

we were denied of a kny beach episode 😔😞 /hj

I would've wanted to see the kamaboko squad having a contest on who can build the best sand castle (rip everyone but kanao and genya made the best ones) inosuke's is just literally a huge pile of sand and some sticks he found but he's so proud of it that they awarded him first place bc it's the right thing to do. Mui is the judge, let him be a silly child who sasses everyone's works but tanjirou's

mitsuri, obanai, rengoku and tengen having a beach soccer tournament; shinobu, aoi and the butterfly mansion girlies are the ones who keeps track of the scores (and is there mainly to make sure nobody dies of stupidity)

gyomei literally has hoards of cats under his clothes but nobody says a thing because he's having fun and that's what matters

giyuu chilling on a corner until sanemi pulls on his hand while saying, "stop bumming everyone out and have fun with us" so they join the soccer tournament for fun and it gets intense that they all break the poor ball

then everyone jumps in to swim

suddenly, tengen's three wives, makio, suma and hinatsuru arrive to serve more food to everyone

gotou and murata are there too, focused on grilling fish and meat while both take interest on the sweets

okay you know what, let's include the moons but at night time

akaza will bury douma on the sand, with only his head visible and douma is happy to finally get noticed by akaza, not knowing akaza intended for him to be there until morning because of the absurd amounts of stones keeping him there. hantengu even asks him if he's fine there and douma is just chilling and happy. It took all of akaza's resistance to not kick douma's head off multiple times

gyokko gathering seashells and making an insane "art" that's too terrible that daki would've insulted it if gyutaro didn't stop her from letting her destructive intrusive thoughts win over the hierarchy

nakime is chilling far away from them and is wishing to not be associated with any of them. like at all.

kaigaku is underwater probably cursing zenitsu or sth

kokushibou is ignored by everyone and sees everything unfold, mumbling, "I see..." And then proceeds to bury himself in the sand with only his six eyes visible on the ground.

muzan curses in a different language when he realized he almost stepped on kokushibou's three pairs of eyes

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Potter Direction ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ You Are The Blood by sarcasticfluentry {E, 175k}

A seventh-year Hogwarts AU in which Niall gets all the girls, Liam goes on a journey of self-discovery, Zayn falls in love, Harry wants something more, and Louis tries to figure out once and for all why he, a Muggleborn, was sorted into Slytherin.

2️⃣ Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices by Toomanytears / @toomanydreamers {E, 126k}

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

3️⃣ i'll be yours to keep by midnights {NR, 17k}

louis should've thought a lot more about who he said his fake boyfriend is, especially since he and his "significant other" kinda hate each other. most of the time.

4️⃣ a fully armed battalion (to remind you of my love) by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics {T, 5k}

“He was flirting with you by the way,” Niall says casually once he’s finished saying goodbye to Louis and he’s joined Harry outside.

“No he wasn’t,” Harry replies automatically, feeling his heart clench at the thought. Was he?

Niall simply raises a mocking eyebrow in response before wrapping his scarf twice around his neck.

“Not that it matters!” Harry says quickly, eyes widening. “I wouldn’t care even if he did because he’s awful and the worst.”

Everyone at Hogwarts knows that Professor Styles and Professor Tomlinson absolutely despise each other. It's too bad that they're in love.

5️⃣ Magical Soup by gloria_andrews / @gloriaandrews {E, 28k}

Slytherin prefect Louis Tomlinson's seventh year at Hogwarts takes an immediate turn for the worse when he's made to be potions partners with Harry Styles, Hufflepuff's resident heartthrob and class clown. Louis has always considered Styles to be a terrible show-off who coasts by on his charm and good looks, but the more they work together, the more he questions that idea. As term goes on, will Louis be able to admit to himself that he might actually like Harry Styles after all... and maybe, just maybe, as more than a friend?

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 The Lone Hydrangea by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic {E, 77k}

“Thank you again,” he smiled at Harry as he picked up the arrangement and headed towards the door, and Harry quickly realised he didn’t know the man’s name. “I – wait! Sorry, I just...what’s your name?” At the man’s eyebrow raise, Harry stumbled over his words, “It’s just, if you’re coming back, I thought I should…know.” As the man looked at Harry, his smile only grew, and Harry’s heart thumped in his chest. “My name’s Louis. Louis Tomlinson, and it was so lovely to meet you,” he shot one final grin in Harry’s direction, “I’ll see you next week, Harry.” And then he was gone. “It was lovely to meet you too,” Harry whispered to the empty shop, putting his head on the counter, “Louis”.

Or the post Hogwarts AU where Harry's a florist, Louis' a muggle who edits fantasy books, and they both have no say in how quickly they fall for each other.

💎 Know a Trick or Two by @sadaveniren {E, 44k}

The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child.

Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts.

Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

💎 We Will Find Our Way by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose {T, 23k}

“Yeah, well you see I was just… erm. I’m sleep walking!”

“Sleepwalking?”

“Yep,” Harry nods his head. “Definitely sleep walking right now.”

Louis' lips turn up in amusement. “You’re really talkative for a sleep walker. Do you usually wear shoes to bed?” He points down at Harry’s bedroom shoes in the shape of a badger and Harry shuffles his feet.

“Yeah, I know that I’m going to sleepwalk so I wear shoes to bed so I don’t stub my toe and hurt it,” Harry explains hardly believing that Louis is actually humoring his very obvious lie.

Louis maintains a stern expression for only a minute before he bursts out laughing. “You do talk some shit, don’t you?”

Or the one where Harry is a Hufflepuff, Louis is a Slytherin and they take midnight walks together.

💎 I've been thinking 'bout it all day by lsforever / @kingonafiftymetreroad {E, 7k}

When he heard about the job opening, from his nosy Aunt of course, Harry was ecstatic to go down there and talk to the shop owner. Her name is Perrie, and she and her best friend Louis opened the shop together not too long ago. Harry remembers the pair well from when he was in school.

or, Harry gets a job in Perrie and Louis' potion shop. He wasn't planning on the huge crush he develops on his boss.

💎 This Soft and Fluffy Thing Called by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {G, 3k}

Harry waits.

He waits for his eleventh birthday. He waits with bated breath. He waits and waits and waits and watches the post for the letter - the letter that decides his fate - the letter from Hogwarts.

or, the one where Harry was adopted as a baby, his downstairs neighbor is Louis, and he really should learn not to keep things bottled up.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Jenny Jugo (Victoria in Dover, A hopeless Case, Our Miss Doctor)—I just love her! She was an Austrian actress during the 20s & 30s & 40s who was among the big UFA stars. She was beautiful but still appeared to be natural and likeable. Often she played witty, smart, independent and confident (for the time) modern women both in silent and in talking movies. For example in one movie she's a maths teacher who has to prove herself to her male colleagues who doubt she is actually good at mathematics. And she ends up not only being successful at teaching the high-school graduates but even getting to lecture mathematics at university afterwards. (Our Miss Doctor) Or in A Hopeless Case she plays a young woman who is very superficial and spoilt at first but then decides against marrying the good situated man her father wants her to marry and instead is dedicated to successfully study medicine although everyone advises her to stop. She's really a great actress who I always enjoyed seeing in movies ever since I was a child. (Also she always appeared to have thick curly hair which was a great representation for little curly haired me because in movies you rarely see women with that hair type being considered beautiful as well.)

Mary Pickford (Coquette, Tess of the Storm Country)—"America’s Sweetheart”, “Queen of Hollywood”, her and Douglas Fairbanks were the og it couple, owned her own movie studio, had both a drink and a hairstyle named after her

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jenny Jugo:

Gifset

Gif

Mary Pickford:

She was a pioneer in early cinema! She acted, wrote, and produced numerous films and was one of the founders of the United Artists film studio, along with Charlie Chaplin and her husband, Doug Fairbanks. At the height of her career in the 1920s there was nobody more famous. She was widely known as "America's Sweetheart." She won an Oscar in 1929 for her performance in Coquette (1929) and then a lifetime achievement Oscar in 1979.

She was an absolute pioneer in the very early days of feature films. She co-founded United artists and managed her career brilliantly.

Mary Pickford wasn't just a silent star, she was a huge historical figure for film. I really cannot emphasize how involved she was in creating and shaping the film world. She was completely passionate about the theater world (from a young age!) and still revered even after she lost relevance. Her tenacity, her beauty, and her intelligence is what made her the first actress labeled as "America's Sweetheart." She just has this glow, a wonderful sweet disposition, and warm heart. She often introduced other women to motion picture and helped them showcase their talent. She was an astute business woman, although when asked about this she said "Well you know this business angle is much exaggerated, because most people don't expect much sense of a woman 5 feet tall. If I were 5 feet 8 they would say I was a very poor business woman!" She was friends with Amelia Earheart and had terrible luck in love. Please just learn about or give thought to my sad small sweet girl.

[proboblynotstriaght]

Probobly silly of me to do another screenshot post as I watch episode 45, but I'm in a good mood, and things seem pretty light so far so

Minor spoilers under the cut

Kremy getting jump scared but something only he sees legitimately startles everyone else lol!

I love his face when he does the funny expressions

"Second worst way to die is... getting mauled by a bear, and the first one is drowning!" "Ohhhh, Agdon did both of thoooose"

"I don't know if you know this about me but I'm an empath..."

"... So I am uniquely qualified to tell you he died in terrible, terrible agony" "ohhhh, only you Gricko"

I think Richie just like startling people

"It's like the knife fight the the Yuu Yuu Haku show in the dark tournament" "I have no idea what that means'

AND MACE ROLLS A NATURAL 20!!!!

"I'm going to dread both of them, I'm just kidding that would ruin your life forever"

The train whistle makes a fun noise

"Hold on I didn't think about damage" *empties bag full of dice and.... bananyas?*

I just realized that my brother has the same exact shirt that Mikey is wearing but in a child size lmao !!! I think the shirt is from like, Old Navy

"Oh you still take damage, 8 points of cold damage"

Gricko summoning the Bananyas "I'm going to take all of these I'm not sharing"

He's actually stuffing the foam banana in his mouth! lol!

"It is wild how often we fight monsters with erections"

Andy, whispering : Ask a question Kremy, ask it

Maces face was too funny to not put in

"Here blow on my dice... Thanks Gid"

Richie, singing : ~I wanna know what the plaque saays~

"That gave me swoose-bumps" "that was good, that was good"

"Did that mean anything, or was it just some weird shit to say before you give someone the mummies curse"

"It's not a threat it's a promise because threats are empty"

*Nikkie, retelling the poem* *Derek miming frost telling Kremy the clifnotes*

"I'm gonna guess that it's time" "time for what?" "It isn't a riddle Gricko" "It's time to eat more Bananyas"

"There's only one thing I've ever done against my own free will swoose, and this ain't it"

"So it's not really Frosts thing" "Yeah, sorry Frosty" "I know"

"... and then there was man, from a certain point of view, who had giant pumpkins" great retelling of the King of Hearts (als my wife, trust me) Gricko, 10/10

"We hit rock bottom and we picked up shovels" there's so many banger quotes in this episode that you would never guess the funnier context

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi, i just want to request a Mitsuri inspired teen reader! Teen reader who are a last minute change made by Brunhilde during the tournament and someone none expecting to see or know because teen reader is someone from the current time and still alive but is in coma or something so her soul is in Valhalla at the moment.

The gods and humans are furious to see a teen fighting in the tournament until they saw how powerful teen reader is. But they also shocked to see teen reader basically dancing while fighting, like how Mitsuri was when fighting Hantengu. Later, they found out reader dances while fighting because dancing is her solace and she wanted to dance one last time before her death, which is why her fighting skills/techniques looks like she is dancing, which is quite sad, especially when she is the youngest fighter but thinking about death.

-You heard the roar of cheers on the other side of the door and while you felt nervous, you felt more excited than anything.

-You were an oddball as far as citizens went, as technically you weren’t dead. You were still alive on Earth, just in a very deep coma after a terrible accident.

-Brunnhilde had been the one to find you, and while shocked that you were here, as you weren’t supposed to be, she welcomed you and helped you calm down after you freaked out, thinking you had died.

-When she realized who you were exactly, Brunnhilde was ecstatic, thinking she had a chance to do something drastic, but if it worked, humanity might be saved.

-You agreed to help her, after learning what was going on with this tournament, as you were always one to do whatever it took to help others and you were willing to take this chance.

-When the doors opened and you walked out, the cheers quickly turned to screams and cries out outrage, seeing a teenager there, you were so young- you shouldn’t be risking your life like this!

-Zeus called a halt to the match starting, demanding to speak to Brunnhilde, “Why is this child fighting?” Brunnhilde was glaring down her nose at him, “Y/N is a warrior, age should have nothing to do with it. And to answer your question, Y/N is willing to fight to survive.”

-Many gods felt sheepish, being called out like this, as if they did their jobs like they were supposed to, this tournament wouldn’t be happening in the first place, and now it was up to people like you to clean up their mess.

-You were bright and cheerful, waving at people, other fighters who were cheering for you, Kojiro could easily sense that you were way more powerful than you seemed, voicing this to others, and Lu Bu, who would have gone first if Brunnhilde didn’t try this Hail Mary shot, agreed.

-Your opponent was a violent and cruel god, one that most of the other gods wouldn’t miss, as he’s kind of an ass to them as well, but he just laughed at you, thinking it was amusing his opponent was you.

-Your cheeks puffed up in a pout, your hand on your hilt, “I’ll just prove it to you then!”

-As the match started nobody expected you to suddenly dash forward with a punch that he managed to dodge and as your fist met the ground, it shattered, creating a crater.

-You pulled back once the dust cleared as everyone was staring in shock, eyes wide, “Oh- I missed!” You charged again, throwing kicks and punches, making more craters and dents in the wall of the stadium, using unnatural speed as well.

-You finally drew your sword, that was forged so thin it was like a ribbon, but you jumped, flipped, and twirled as if you were dancing, moving so gracefully while your sword was dancing alongside you, never cutting you.

-Your opponent was shouting that this wasn’t fair, as humanity shouldn’t be this strong, but one well-placed kick sent him flying back before you charged, your blade separating his head from his shoulders instantly.

-You leapt up and down, cheering loudly that you won, showing your age as everyone was stunned, impressed with your skills.

-Brunnhilde was elated, rushing to you, as the stipulation was if you won humanity would be spared and Ragnarok wouldn’t occur! She knew that you wouldn’t fail, and you proved that humans could defeat the gods.

-Zeus kept up his end of the bargain, calling off the tournament and he couldn’t help but feel fluffy when you thanked him, a bright smile on your face.

-A bright aura slowly surrounded you as you panicked, looking down at your hands, “What’s happening?!” Brunnhilde gave you a small smile, calming you, “You’re waking up Y/N. We’ll see you when you’re ready.”

-Many were shouting as they realized you weren’t even dead yet, voicing their concerns about the risk you took, but you just grinned brightly at them as you were slowly fading away, “I’ll see you all soon!”

-Despite being in a coma and fighting for your life, you were always so bright and smiling to all you met, how was it that you were so strong when faced with so much.

-Perhaps the gods needed to look at themselves a bit more, to understand why humanity fights so hard for everything.

[sehtoast]

No Time Like the Present [For a Present] - (parentified!OC, Ryan Butcher)

mild s4e7 spoilers, ben gives ryan a present, ben being the cool parent, ben x homelander, spidersona oc | Fic Directory

It’s a soft, breathy laugh that gives him away.

Ryan whirls around, picture frame held tight to his chest.  He’s like a child protecting a toy he knows he shouldn’t have.

“Relax, buddy.”  Ben says with a sympathetic smile.  “I ain’t gonna take it from you.”

“I don’t–”

“And I’m not gonna tell your dad either.  I’m not the Grinch, y’know.”

It’s a Christmas miracle in and of itself to see the boy’s eyes light up and a joyful grin settle into place.  A real smile, not the ones he fakes for cameras these days.

Ben reaches out and ruffles Ryan’s hair.  “He’s out anyway.  Lemme see ‘em?”  

Ryan tilts the frame his way and he takes in the full sight.  Butcher, before becoming, well… Butcher, and Becca.  His heart tugs at the sight of her, remembering the times they’d spoken.  Back when he would help Ryan with his physics homework at the kitchen table while Homelander pouted over getting less of the boy’s attention.  Ben always felt so terrible for how on edge Becca was around Homelander, but somehow she never seemed to hold it against the bug for being involved with him. Kind, caring, genuine…  

Just like her son.

“You’re a good kid, y’know that?”  Ben murmurs.  His eyes sting and he looks up to find Ryan’s lined with tears as well.

For as much as the world has tried to rip it out of his chest, Ryan’s heart was practically made of sunshine.  Ben’s already sworn up and down to whatever cosmic forces may be that he’ll preserve that light in the dark as best he can.

He sniffles and swats at his own fallen tears.  “Man, Christmas is somethin’ else.  I got one for you too.”  He scans the mountain of gift boxes and fan packages, shooting a web at one in particular wrapped as if someone gave tape and paper to a jackass who’d never wrapped a present a day in his life.  “Sorry about the outside.  The day I figure out wrapping paper is probably the day the planet explodes.”  He gestures for Ryan to sit, then hands it off.

As soon as he lifts the flaps on the box, Ryan goes silent.

Benjamin just waits while he processes it.  It was no easy feat, and finding someone talented enough to both sculpt and paint it perfectly without anything more than a few satellite images and classified Vought records had been… well.  The look on his face is all the bug needs to know it was worth it.

Ryan lifts it out and sets it on his lap, fingers running over the edge of the roof.  He seems almost baffled at the intricacy of detail, right down to the mailbox at the edge of the lawn.  “S’my old house…”  He murmurs, thumbing gently over the front door step.  “I almost forgot what it looked like.”

“Mm, well we can’t have you doing that.”  The bug’s voice cracks with emotion.  “I just– I figured you still do your legos and you could, y’know…”

By the time Ben’s gaze rises, Ryan’s already thrown himself into a hug, squeezing so tight the bug practically can’t breathe.  Except he can, because he’s learned how to weather those embraces.  It’s the same way Homelander hugs him when it’s all too much or when he needs a rock to cling to lest he become a castaway in his own sea of miseries.

“Sorry,” the boy mumbles as he pulls back.  The shame on his face is the worst part.  Watching him apologize every time he forgets his strength, becoming stronger with every passing day while the world remains unchanged, has been nothing short of heart wrenching.  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Get back in here.” With a huffed laugh and a roll of his eyes, Ben pulls Ryan in for another hug.  “You didn’t, and I know you never would.”  

They spent some time chatting after Ryan hides the photo in his room.  The clickety clack of VS5 controllers fill the air while they duel in Tournament of Heroes, and Ben groans as he loses for a fifth time.  Things like this used to be his forte as a kid, but he’s probably in for another loss anyway. 

But that was fine.  Homelander would be back soon and the three of them could spend Christmas Eve together as a family.  Even though that family is small and just a liiiittle bit messy, it’s still good.

“That makes six!”  The boy hoots, rising to his feet with a beaming grin and excitement in his eyes.  “I don’t think you’re cut out to play as dad’s character.”  He teases.

Nevertheless, Ben picks him again.

Yeah.  Still good.

[azu1as]

dumb rotmhs fanfic idea: one hundred years after his death, tang bo reincarnates as the son of a wealthy merchant family in shaolin.

—basically, a tangcheong reincarnation ficlet set during the shaolin tournament arc 👍

»—————————–✄

Part 1 2 3

the zheng family was the leader of a wealthy merchant guild in shaolin. while they were not on the same level as the hwang, they were still influential enough for rumors to run amok.

And rumors always circled their eldest son.

zheng bo was as much of an enigma to his family as he was to those within their village. he had always been a quiet child but, one day, something happened that /changed/ the then five-year old.

the zheng family's son cried tears upon tears. he was absolutely inconsolable. his small body shook, overcome with emotions so heavy that his entire body was painfully heaving.

and when he woke up, eyes bloodshot and distant, it was as if the childhood spark in his eyes disappeared along with his tears the previous night.

off-handedly, his father noted the history book that was dropped haphazardly on the floor. several of its pages were scrunched up terribly.

the zheng partiarch mistook it as his son's desire to learn martial arts, but quickly learned the opposite as his son glared at the instructor with so much vitriol it was poisonous.

no matter how many instructors he sent his son's way, he all turned them back—uncaring whether they were decades-long martial artists, instructors of renowned ones, or teachers from the shaolin sect itself. if anything the latter worsened zheng bo's mood to the nth degree.

ashamedly and with deep regret, both the zheng patriarch and matriarch had to give up on their son as they realized the teaching him how to inherit their merchant guild was a futile endeavor. zheng bo would rather stay cooped up in his room in complete silence.

the zheng family had three more children after their eldest yet none of their births affected the dark veil of mourning that shadowed their eldest brother.

A veil that no one could ever seem to lift.

other families often asked after him, most in hopes of marrying off their daughters, but the zheng matriarch stiffly laughed them off.

they had tried once to set a play date with another merchant family's daughter, but it ended up with her in tears and vomiting with an upset stomach. the same occured with the next and third ones.

they catch zheng bo slip a vial with an unknown substance back into his sleeve and understood the lengths he would go to avoid such a thing from happening again.

many years go by and their second son inherited their family's merchant guild, much to the confusion of many.

it stirred up interest in zheng bo. rumors went around about his inability to perform his duties as the eldest son; some said that he was actually a bastard which was why he was overlooked.

former servants and workers from the zheng family whispered about the eldest son's madness and how his mania could not be cured by even the best of doctors and healers.

but as with all rumors and public interest, it died down when no new information sprung forth.

zheng bo was simply a crazy son who was better kept within the walls of the zheng estate than be let out for fear of what his madness would lead him to do.

when the shaolin tournament began with warriors and fighters from the ten great sects and other notable families, the zheng patriarch tried to urge zheng bo to attend and simply watch the battles with the rest of the family.

zheng bo scoffed at him.

their second son placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulders and suggested that they just let him be, "the winner has already been decided. i'm sure eldest brother would end up bored."

but the world had a funny sense of irony.

mount hua was the competition's dark horse. they were nigh unstoppable, flicking away their opponent's swords with absolute ease and twisiting around them as if they were falling petals themselves. it was an unexpected but amazing start to the competition.

as the finals approached, discussion about the upcoming fight between mount hua's divine dragon and shaolin's hye yeon run rampant outside of shaolin's walls. inside the zheng estate, no one could stop talking about the unexpected showing from what should have been a fallen sect.

tang bo, by chance, overheard the praises heeped on mount hua's divine dragon who had beaten everyone he had faced undeniably and soundly.

a part of him felt guilty that he had been too overwhelmed by his own grief and pain to even step out and check on his family and hyung's sect—especially after what he had learned about the aftermath of the battle against the demonic sect one hundred year ago.

so felt a strong wave of relief at the knowledge that mount hua had regained its footing somehow and that it was doing well enough to receive awed praise.

he felt imensely grateful towards whoever this divine dragon was because he seemed to the center of mount hua's revival.

tang bo idly wondered if chung myung was berating him in the afterlife. he asked him to take care of tang bo's family, but couldn't offer the same for his sect, he imagined that the other man would just exaggeratedly roll his eyes and tell him to start doing better then, you bastard.

and so tang bo, for the first time in a decade, knowingly chose to leave his room and approach his second-life father first.

thirty years was a long enough period to mourn, even if his heart still aches with regret.

but tang bo supposed supporting mount hua's divine dragon in the finals was a start.

[terrible-child-tournament]

Winner will go on to face Gideon Gleeful (Gravity Falls)!

[catholic-character-tournament]

Round 5 - Catholic Character Tournament

Propaganda below ⬇️

Pope Pinion IV (Cars)

HELLO. IT IS I. THE GREAT AND ALMIGHTY ITALIAN TOURNEY. PLEASEPLEASE PUT HIM IN THERE WAS SO MUCH POPE DISCOURSE ON MY ACC AND HE WAS SOLOED IN THE FIRST ROUND BY LUIGI😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔 PLEASE AVENGE HIMMMM

The existence of Catholicism in the Cars universe implies that there was (or at least there was believed to be) a car Jesus who died for the cars’ sins, and I for one would like to see how a car gets crucified or sins. I guess the blood/wine here would be gasoline, but what would the body/bread be? How did they sit at the last supper? What is the layout of car church? How does a car build a church? Do other human religions exist in the cars universe? How does a goddess with the body of a human and the head of a cat translate to a car? Do Buddhist cars rein-car-nate? Do cars have souls?

he lost the italian character tournament, he will win here

Harrowhark

I'm pretty sure you've already got plenty of submissions for her so I'll just say she was raised in what is basically a cult (technically a nunnery but let's be real) dedicated to keeping the body of the thing that will kill God behind the rock. One of their prayers is actually "I pray the rock is never rolled away". Harrow is extremely devout as penance for her earlier heretical actions in the tomb as a child (spoiler!) so the Catholic guilt really comes through

imagine being a catholic nun and you meet god, but it turns out he’s a twitch streamer from new zealand who became god because everything got a little bit out of hand. and just before you met him you gave yourself a diy grief-fuelled lobotomy with the help of your best frenemy. imagine how insane you’d be. now multiply that insanity by nine. that’s the fictional love of my life right there.

she meets god. she’s not inspired

she’s number one practitioner of space Catholicism. The locked tomb is chock full of Christian (catholic) imagery themes metaphors etc. just look at her she’s got a bone rosary

They're Catholicism with extra bones. Everyone is a nun. They have what is basically a rosary made from knuckle bones. They technically worship the same God as everyone else, but they're waaaay more focused on The Body in the Tomb (Mary) and we get a moment where we find out that while everyone else prays the equivilent of The Lords Prayer, they're doing the equivilent of Hail Mary. And they paint their faces with skulls.

She thinks leaving dry bread in a drawer is taking care of someone. She's in love with a 10,000 year old corpse (the same one they worship). She spent ALL NIGHT digging with her bare hands to make sure a field had bones every 5 feet so she could fight her girlfriend - I mean, greatest enemy. Spoiler territory: She's been puppeting her parents corpses since she was 8 years old. Instead of grieving her dead girlfriend, she gives herself a lobotomy. She makes soup with bone in it so she can use the bone IN THEIR STOMACH to try and kill them.

The author is/was Catholic and the entire series had heavy Catholic overtones. https://www.tor.com/2020/08/19/gideon-the-ninth-young-pope-and-the-new-pope-are-building-a-queer-catholic-speculative-fiction-canon/ A good breakdown of how it's Catholic

Anti-propaganda (spoilers)

I love the Locked Tomb series but Harrowhark has daddy issues with God, had a childhood crush on God's cryogenic partner, and is in love with God's daughter, not to mention that she's essentially a bone-bender. The religion on her home planet exists in a way that is technically against the will of the canon in-universe God, even. All of this to say, Harrowhark is heretical at minimum if not an outright witch. Terrible Catholic. Burn her.

[robbyykeene]

@laniidae-passerine responding to you ask here bc I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone. Serious spoilers for part 3 discussed below. You’ve been warned, read at your own risk:

got curious and checked out the CK Reddit (again, devil couldn’t get to me so had to invent new and terrible means) to see what the leaks and spoilers were for pt.3 and I swear if they’re true, I’m going to blow myself up. idk if you know them/want to hear them (will send in another ask if you do) but I think CK might be going toe to toe with HIMYM for the worst ‘pulled it out our ass’ ending ever

@gaffney sent me the spoilers and yeah lol they’re so fucking stupid. But tbh it’s everything i expected to happen after they let robby win the captain spot, and especially after part 2. Idk if these writers just really fucking hate robby or if they ultimately dont give a fuck about any of them so long as the red-pilled mra side of the fanbase is satisfied, but either way it is just such bad writing. they spend literally the entire show depicting how awful cobra kai is, culminating in a child literally dying, but theyre going to have EVERYONE rejoin cobra kai because the show is called that so obviously it must mean it has to end with it 🙄 even ignoring the robby of it all it is genuinely insane that daniel is going to willingly let johnny “wrap cobra kai gis around his children” when thats exactly what silver threatened to do and it made daniel (rightfully) lose his mind. If they want johnny back in ck fine, if they want miguel to be captain and win for ck fine, but they could have had Daniel and Robby decide that Mr. Miyagi was right. Competitions are meaningless and after Kwon’s death they’re not going to fight anymore. Daniel quits karate, Robby takes over Miyagi-Do to teach self-defense and balance but not competition, and Johnny and Miguel get the tournament win. And they all live happily ever after or fucking whatever. At least that would somewhat make sense character wise, even if it ultimately marks these entire 6 seasons meaningless. But nope! Robby’s getting his knee shattered because he’s cursed forever to pay for the sins of his father (who never has to pay for his own sins), and Daniel and family willingly joining Cobra Kai. It’s such a joke and just dogshit writing it’s almost funny. And the worst part is, the vast majority of the fanbase will be thrilled and critics will have nothing but praise and blow smoke up these writers asses even more than they already have.

[sir-gio22]

TRAIN WITH ME ~Ben Shelton

Part 1

Ben shelton x reader

Prompt: you are a tennis player and your father trains you, too much. One day you faint and after you and ben happen to see each other.

Warnings: abuse, overtraining, fainting, mentions of hospitals

You're supposed to be the N1

You're supposed to be a rising star

You're supposed to be in the top 10

You're supposed to train bett

You're supposed to have a perfect technique

You're supposed to win every match, every point

You're supposed to serve better, to never double fault

You are a failure

A failur

A failu

A fail

A fai

A fa

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These are your thought, slowly fading away as you faint, on the cold floor of the hotel gym. After training for five hours in a row with your dad.

Those thoughts. They were the words your father say to you, every god damn day of your life.

Five hours ago, he dragged you away from the food you were eating, you didn't deserve it, he said. You only need to train, train, and train.

He made you run for three hours, only taking two little breaks, that was more than enough, your father said.

It's 6pm, he went to book a court for two hours for you to train after ‘dinner’, which he won't let you eat.

I will introduce yourself, if you let me. You are the child of a ex-pro player, your father was, twenty years ago, a slam champion and the n1 in the world.

When you were born, he didn't wanted a child. He wanted a prodigy. A pro student and player.

Your family, being rich, always made teacher come to your house to teach you, homeschooling you for years. The only time you would socialize where when your father would take you to elegant events about tennis or introduce you to other rich people. They usually were all adults, and the kids you would befriend in those nights were all spoiled and already acting like adults. They had the latests phones and clothes, they had perfect grades and everything they wanted, you, on the other side, had the things you needed to live when you deserved them. If you didn't train your father won't feed you or make you sleep in the cold and old basement.

At four years old, you were already winning kid tournaments, at 10 you won the national under 10 tournament, at 12 the under 12 one, at 14 the under 14 one, and at 15 your father made you play qualifying in the us open, you played small tournaments before in other countries, some 250 or 500 and a challenger 1000, but never a slam.

That week you won three rounds, but you got another qualifier prodigy at the fourth, which you lost to.

And your father let's say…he wasn't happy. The opposite. He was in the stands when you lost, your opponent celebrating, you shook hands and saw your fathers glare. You knew what was coming. And it was terrible.

That night you got beaten by him. And hard. You still have those scars, and you slept in the basement.

But what does you mom do to your father treating you like shit? Nothing.

She can't do anything. She's dead. A disease, the doctors says.

The truth?

Your father poisoned her slowly, it made her develop a disease. And the doctors? Corrupted by him.

Let's get back to the current time.

When your father left you sat on the floor of the empty gym, your father paid the hotel to have it exclusively for you when you wanted (when he did, just to specify, you had no word on this).

Your heart beating fast, too fast. It feels like it'll explode any second. Your ears were ringing, your vision blurry, your whole body not just sore, but exhausted by the excessive training.

You fainted.

Two hours later, getting shoken by someone made you regain consciousness. It was you father calling you to train.

In the two hours he left you were supposed to get back to your hotel room and study, and he's already mad because you're still in the gym.

“Were you sleeping, huh? Don't lie! I told you you had to study! What were you doing?! Resting? You don't need that!” He slapped you. Your left cheek reddening.

He made you get up and pushed you outside, then to the tennis courts.

You had to train with the strength you didn't had, the only this you looked towards every day was sleep.

You entered the court, there were hard courts divided by two benches and a umpire seat.

You didn't think that any other player would be playing in those courts, since usually your father books a secluded one where there's just you two training, because he has the habit to yell at you when you make mistakes.

But you see a young player in the second court, you recognize him, *Ben Shelton*, you never actually look at others players or chat with them, but sometimes Ben came to you to chat since you started playing professionally.

You wave at him, hoping he won't notice the eyebags under your eyes and the state you're in. More on the other side than on earth.

Ben was training with his father and coach, Bryan, having a parent as a coach isn't a pleasant thing, for you. But Ben seems to love being coached by Bryan. Well, can't blame him, Bryan's a sweet man, not an abuser.

You place your bag on the bench near the one where put his. You father was still at the gate, chatting with another coach, while Ben and Bryan came to you.

“hey! Long time no see, huh? Been some months since we talked, I wonder why you never get seen anywhere other than tennis courts. Anyway, how's it going?” Ben says

“Hey, nice to see you again ben! I'm alright, a bit tired, my old man's killing me. But don't tell him I'm complaining” you joke, still by telling a truth.

“Mine isn't taking back either, I feel like dying every practice ahah”

“That's not true, ben, I train you the right amount. Not too much, like their father does. Are you sure you're not training too much, bud?” Bryan chimes in.

You're eyes widen the much they can because you're so tired to actually make a shocked expression, what do you reply to that? You could tell the truth, ben was the closest thing you had to a friend after all, or you could lie, and if they believed you you'll probably faint again and go to the hospital.

You stay silent for a moment, their eyes locked on your face, concerned and worried about you.

What will happen? Find out in part 2!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this at school so it might not be that good, but let me know what you think! Should I continue this?? I already have the part two in mind but no spoilers🤭

[honeyduex]

Say hi to my Majiri boy Halan Illnar, the celebrity star captain of the Bahari Phoenixes. 🩵💛

I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR

(ha-LAWN ILL-nar)

Also known as: Hal (anyone close, really), Lan (Tish, Jel; inside joke), Hallie (Nai'o), City Boy (Eshe; endearing)

Age: 24

Pronouns: he/him/his

Height: 5'10

Sexuality: Bisexual

Star Path: The Watcher

Star Stone: Onyx

Element: Air

Shepp: Halan doesn't like to talk about his ceremony anymore.

Halan grew up in the humble village of Elya, and had always had a knack for athletics and entertaining others. As a child, he would always participate in local roundball tournaments. He gained a small reputation for his enthusiasm and the ways he'd hilariously interact with the crowd following a goal or a foul from the opposing team. One fateful day when he was 18, a talent scout from Bahari City watched a scrimmage that Halan played in, and was astonished by how advanced he played at such a young age. Following a brief interview, Halan was met with contract that stated that should he leave his home village for Bahari to complete professional coaching, he would be signed to the Bahari Phoenixes automatically. Encouraged by his father to chase his dreams, Halan accepted the contact and had to leave his gentle rural life behind.

As his career began, the public quickly took a liking to him for his humble beginnings mixed with his adorable personality and visage. Halan was the new kid on the block, and his cheesy displays of excitement and his expert plays soon let him solidify his name in the public' eye. For better or for worse. Later in his blossoming career, he met a Majiri woman named Narya, and the two began a romantic relationship. Although they seemed to be a wholesome couple, they eventually split, and Narya was so angry following their break up that she spread cruel rumors to the news about Halan and how he was during their relationship. This bruised Halan's reputation for months, and he swore never to date publicly again, and to use extreme caution with trusting people in his life. Since then, he hasn't been able to really connect with anyone near him except for his coach and his teammates, who are essentially like his family.

After his scandal with Narya, Halan additionally picked up a habit of venturing to low-key towns and village, just to befriend locals without paparazzi and dozens of screaming fans chasing him. Just to get a feel of normalcy in his life. His adventures fatefully led him to Kilima Village, where he began to actually make the genuine friendships and connections he'd always wanted. He grew close to Nai'o, who swore Halan looked familiar and kept squinting at him for several days until he finally introduced himself. Although Halan was originally nervous to meet someone who actually knew who he was in a small village, Nai'o quickly proved himself to be a dependable confidant. Their chemistry made it easy for Halan to fit in somewhere in the village, where he ultimately decided to stay until his new season of roundball rolled around. He grew close to Hassian, Jel and Tish, Sifuu, and Eshe as well, and often seeks them for guidance and advice on how to be useful to the community during his stay.

Trivia:

- Halan LOVES fancy alcoholic drinks (not mead or ale, it sucks and tastes terrible); his favorite drink is strawberry daiquiri, which Reth can never seem to make right for him

- Halan finds humans shifty after learning about their destructive past civilization, and distrusts them even more than his own folk

- Halan might present to be a dumb jock when one first meets him, but he's much more philosophical and intelligent than he lets on

[aebinspa]

switch it up like nintendo

PAIRING: gyuvin x y/n reader

GENRES: fluff, gyuvin loves mario kart more than anything else and he is a shy loser, stressed&passiveaggressive!reader, reader is trying hard but gyuvin doesn't see anything, hao (zb1) is a menace as always, they are just two dumb in love <3

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! so i’m practicing my writing hoping it will get better and better!

The room may have been crowded, but your gaze kept falling on Kim Gyuvin. The short dress you had put on so confidently in front of the mirror now seemed too short. And seeing that everyone was staring at you except the one you wanted to look at you was driving you crazy.

“If you frown a little more, I'll soon be able to fit a tennis ball into those grooves” Your best friend, Hao, tried to cheer you up even in your worst moments, even if the only thing that needed cheering was your little dress. “The worst thing is that I don’t have a chance. The last girlfriend he had was the complete opposite of me.” Hao didn’t miss the opportunity to mock you. “Blah, blah, blah. Do you hear yourself when you talk? You know each other, you have mutual friends. At worst, you cut the relationships you have with everyone and go back to crying in my arms." While Hao wasn't the greatest comforter in history, he was certainly closer to earning the title of the town's best motivator.

“Anyone wanna play Mario Kart with me?” Gyuvin’s beaten dog look wasn’t enough: the boy stomped his feet like a spoiled child: all of it, was enough to make half the people at the party laugh and the other half fall in love. “Hao, I'm joining the fray” “If Mario Kart can save your love life, then go and beat them all.” Hao's resigned look was enough to get you excited. You were ready to prove him wrong.

“Gyuvin, I’m playing too! Pass me a joystick” “Oh Y/N, sit down next to me, there’s room!” The jealous looks the other two behind you gave made you even more excited. It may be time to use the heavy artillery.

You get as close to Gyuvin as possible by making initial contact. The boy’s problem is that, beyond the extreme joy with which he socialized with everyone, he proved to be a shy loser in front of every woman. The embarrassment he felt colored his cheeks and the desire to eat him assailed you in front of those few people who had gathered to watch you play. Having returned to your senses, you chose Rosalina and any motorbike; the game was important but less than your mission.

Mission inevitably failed when Gyuvin focused too much on the game and needed to be more on what was around him. These guys are playing seriously… A Mario Kart tournament was enough to make you lose faith in your seductive skills. Once you knew what needed to be done, you intended to talk to Gyuvin, who had already turned to speak to a thousand different people. From afar you noticed Hao's victorious look and mentally told him to fuck off. Going out for fresh air seemed like an excellent solution to that terrible evening.

The cold air hit your body like a thousand needles, but you preferred this feeling rather than that of the imminent defeat to which you were about to surrender. For two years now you had observed Gyuvin as a boy to whom you would have liked to dedicate your every day and every thought; the first time it was a shock to discover that he had gotten engaged to someone you had never heard of and now, dressed in the best way, you had not managed to attract more than the attention he usually gave you. Maybe we work better as friends. The thought of not having him all to yourself made you nervous like nothing in the world, so much so that you ungraciously punched the nearest tree, to see what it felt like.

“Y/n, are you okay? That tree has no way of defending itself” A loud laugh, two beautiful lips, and a breathtaking smile. Kim Gyuvin was there in front of you and he was doubling over with laughter. “You know, I came here to check if you were okay. I'm glad to see you're doing well." Confusion could be seen on your face. “Why?” “Compared to usual you seemed… Well, how can I put it… Angry? And I’m afraid it’s my fault!” Hearing him admit his faults - which you knew very well weren’t his - made something click in you. “Yes, it’s always your fault. You stick to everyone, you have eyes for everyone, you make eyes at everyone and, the icing on the cake, my dear Gyuvin, I’m the only one who doesn’t receive this treatment. So I ask you this: do you hate me, Kim Gyuvin?”

Gyuvin's shocked face made you regret everything you had acidly spit out of your mouth in seconds. You tried to make excuses but they seemed just as stupid so you kept quiet.

"Y/n" "Uhm?" "Take the jacket I brought you in the meantime because it's freezing out here" "Uhm…" As he passed you the jacket, Gyuvin clumsily touched your hand, and a blush appeared on his face that would hardly have gone unnoticed. You immediately grabbed his hand and shouted "Gyuvin, look me in the eyes!" So he did.

“Is it possible that Mario Kart interests you more than me?” “Well, you’re not a video game, I could never compare you-” “So what am I to you?” It was too cold to argue outside, but you played your last cards. One rejection and it would all be over.

“The girl I’m in love with” “Okay, now tell me something that-” You couldn’t believe your ears. “Kim Gyuvin”

Red as a pepper, the boy hid behind the tree you had previously hit. “How is this possible… I hate you… Because… You drive me crazy! How long have you had feelings for me?” Intimidated but fascinated by how beautiful you looked when angry, Gyuvin timidly stepped forward. “Well, I left my ex-girlfriend because I realized I was in love with you” “I want to hit you, but then I remember that you're such a loser. My god, can I hit you?” The anger soon turned into pure love when Gyuvin decided to take you by the waist and shyly kiss you. It took a few seconds for you to return to the initial calm.

“I’m not that good with women” “We all get it. Keep going” “But I want to be the best boyfriend in the world with you. We can have sex, go to the movies together, we can study together, I swear I’ll try, and we can have fun playing Mario Kart” Your loving gaze betrayed your intentions, but Gyuvin was too dull to see it.

"Anything except Mario Kart. I really dislike that game" “Y/n, I take back everything I said” For the first time, you laughed together, holding hands. “Shall we go back in?” he asked you, his face red from the cold and embarrassment. “Gladly” Oh, Hao, I can’t wait to tell you, "You lost".

[germhammy]

“Bonfire Roast pt 2”

Enid: so, Pugsley? Is everything ready?

Pugsley: yes. It’s always nice when we get to build a large fire. We can’t do it when it’s snowing.

Morticia: I hope the cold is not too much for you?

Enid: it is so much colder than what I’m used to. But thank you for all the winter clothes! I’ll be much more comfortable when we return to Nevermore too! Where is Wednesday?

Morticia: she is on a Zoom call with the writers, producers and director of her episode. They want her to be on set for at least a few days of filming.

Enid: when do they start filming?

Morticia: Late January until March maybe April

Enid: that’s almost three months! And I’m we have the fencing tournaments!

Morticia: I know. I reminded them again that she is only 17 and has her schoolwork and extracurricular activities she is invested in

Enid: I am sure Bianca will understand. She and Wednesday have really made a great team! Our next opponents are ones we have beaten before Wednesday. But we have to face Shiv in February. I’m sure Principal Thropp will want to see Wednesday fight them

Morticia: I should go in and check on Wednesday. She hates these meetings and I don’t like that they forget she’s a child

Ophelia called from the kitchen for Enid

Enid: what is it, Aunt Ophelia?

Ophelia: I made some gimbap to snack on. Don’t eat too much as we have a feast for dinner

Enid: mmm This is good.

In the study Morticia found her daughter getting frustrated

Wednesday: I can not be on set for three months! I have school! I have said this. I have fencing that I am committed to. I am not in university!! I am basically a senior in high school! How many times do I need to say this?

Morticia: -leaning over her daughter’s shoulder- as my daughter has stated. She is a senior in high school. I will not be taking her out of school for three months. One month is all I will allow. For once my daughter is enjoying her time at school. I will not deprive her of that. Besides much of her course work is not something that allows for homeschooling or tutors. As her studies are quite specialized

Ms Rowling: this story is not something that a mere 17 year old could possibly write!

Morticia: I can assure you. Wednesday is 17. She just turned 17 in October. She wrote that story when she was 16 as part of a therapy assignment and submitted it to your contest

Mr Gunn: we really would like her on set for the duration of the shoot which we anticipate will be about three months We managed to procure a perfect location starting the second week of January! We would like Wednesday to be there.

Morticia: Will you offer accommodations for my daughter and myself?

Mr Johnson: the studio will only provide accommodations for Miss Addams.

Morticia: again. Wednesday is only 17. She has school commitments.

Mr Burton: we would like her on set to help with the cast define her vision

Morticia: one month. Maybe two. And I will accompany my daughter. Wednesday? When does the fencing team face Shiv Academy?

Wednesday pulled out her cell phone to look at the schedule

Wednesday: February. And we face Ilvermorny again in May. Parents week is also in February the week before we face Shiv Academy

Morticia: Wednesday will not be available in February thru mid March. You may have us on set for the the first month of production and the last

Ms Rowling: it is vital that we have her on set

Mr Johnson: I’m sure we can provide tutors for her studies or she can make them up

Morticia: my daughter does not easily get along with people. She entered public school because tutors no longer wished to come to our home or longer wished to provide services. She had a terrible time in public school until we sent her to the boarding school where she studies now. Much to our surprise she has made friends and wants to be there.

Mr Burton: Miss Addams? Or may I call you Wednesday? We would love to have you on set for the beginning of production. Perhaps at least a couple of weeks. Tour the location. Meet the cast. I will personally take notes. I will send you updates via email. Or text you or your mother if it is something that needs immediate attention?

The others grumbled

Wednesday: my mother and my girlfriend will be accompanying me and accommodated

Mr Burton: I will see to that.

The others grumbled again

Mr Johnson: now she wants her girlfriend as well?

Morticia: having her girlfriend nearby will help my daughter deal with her anxiety and communication

Mr Burton: I will make sure you are all accommodated. I will be in touch, Mrs Addams

Wednesday: thank you, Mother. Parents weekend is in February. I would like to be there as I wish Granny and Grandmama to be there to help with preparing for Ilvermorny’s visit

Morticia: ah yes. They are looking forward to that.

Wednesday: The Poe Cup is in March. The Black Cats need to defend out title

Morticia: these events are very important to my daughter’s school experience. I will not have her missing those. You may have her and myself in January. If production goes into April we will be available then. Please email my daughter as well as myself with details.

Angrily the group signed off on

Wednesday: that does not sound like it went well

Morticia: Do not worry, Wednesday. I will email the show runners. That group still answers to them. And they understand that you are a minor. Mr Burton is the director am I correct?

Wednesday: yes. He did seem to come around