#the origin story of 'queen snapped'

[eobard-thawne]

FAVORITE SCENES FROM BECOMING ELIZABETH: 2/∞ "You must come to Spain. You must keep yourself safe. You cannot allow yourself to be sold off to another court."

[sinbrook]

It’s like Blxzzard is bad. Overwxtch is bad. But I love the characters and the voicelines and the cinematics and I wish I could in good conscience recommend these things to people I know would love those characters too but I just can’t because these properties rightfully make people cringe. Blah.

[kookiewithluv]

❥✿ ASHES OF A PROMISE ❥✿

• TITLE: ASHES OF A PROMISE

• PAIRING: Lycan king!Jungkook x Werewolf!Reader

•WORD COUNT: 4.2k

• GENRE: Paranormal Romance, Dark Fantasy, Smut, Slow burn, Fluff (?), Tragic Romance, werewolf au, Royal au

• TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains mention of abuse, with themes of intense physical desire, possessive (dom-sub) dynamics, and primal, instinct-driven encounters. It also explores deep emotional conflict, grief, loss, and difficult decisions surrounding love and sacrifice. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

• SUMMARY: You were a hopeless romantic, dreaming of a mate who would love you as fiercely as you loved him. But when you finally meet your mate, you discover he’s no ordinary wolf — he’s the Lycan king, the alpha of all alphas. Worse, he neither wants you nor is willing to reject you, leaving you trapped in a loveless bond in his kingdom. As queen to a king who resents you, the mate bond grows stronger, making you more vulnerable with each passing day. Now, you must break through the walls around his heart and make him love you, because staying in this bond without love is unbearable, yet leaving isn’t an option he’ll allow.

• a/n: This story is entirely a work of fiction and is the sole property of @kookiewithluv. The characters, events, and scenarios depicted are products of the imagination and are not intended to represent or reflect real-life situations, nor do I wish for anything portrayed here to occur in reality. I kindly ask that my work not be copied, translated, or reposted as your own on this or any other platform, including YouTube. Please respect the effort and originality behind this piece. Thank you for your understanding and support.

MASTERLIST 01

PROLOGUE: bound by fate forsaken by love

"Careful," Alpha Sebastian growled, his fingers clamping down around your arm like a vice. His nostrils flared, the sound of his shallow breaths prickling your skin as he yanked you upright. You winced, pain flaring in your arm, but he didn’t let go, his grip ironclad. "I didn't bring you here to humiliate me."

Your pulse raced, eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion, but you nodded quickly. His gaze burned into you, his jaw clenched, as if daring you to do anything out of line. His fingers tightened, and for a moment, you thought your bones might snap under the pressure.

Abruptly, he shoved you back. “Behave.” The force sent you stumbling, your feet struggling to find balance. You caught yourself just before falling, your hand instinctively reaching up to cradle your arm, your fingers brushing over the dark bruises already forming in the shape of his fingers.

He turned, striding forward as if nothing had happened, but you stayed a step behind, the sight of the looming Lycan Palace making your stomach twist. The Lycan King, Jeon Jungkook, ruled from there. The heir to the Moon Goddess herself. But even his power felt distant and untouchable compared to the suffocating presence of Alpha Sebastian beside you.

Each step you took felt heavier, dragging you closer to something you didn’t want to face. You’d dreaded this moment—being forced to make a public appearance with Sebastian, to let the world assume you were his. People would talk. They would say you'd given yourself to your Alpha, that you were bound to him. But you weren't. Not yet. You were still waiting for your mate. But how long could you hold on when Sebastian hovered over you like a predator, desperate to make you his?

"Look," he spat, spinning around so suddenly that you collided with his chest. The bitter stench of sweat and something rotten made you flinch, and you recoiled instinctively, your nose wrinkling in disgust. His lip curled as he grabbed your shoulders roughly, his fingers digging in. "You stupid woman. I should never have brought you here."

You trembled, your breath hitching as his hand shot up. You flinched hard, instinctively bracing for a blow. But it didn’t come. He sneered at your reaction, his eyes darting around, scanning for witnesses. "Don’t you dare make a scene. Do you hear me?" His voice dropped to a low hiss, filled with threat. "If you embarrass me, you'll pay for it later."

You swallowed hard, your eyes fixed on the ground, trying to steady your shaking hands. “Yes, Alpha.”

“Call me Seb, my love.” His voice softened mockingly as his rough fingers trailed along your arm, leaving a sickening trail of goosebumps. "We'll be mated soon." His laugh was low and smug, and you fought the urge to shudder as he brushed his lips against your ear.

His hand closed around yours without warning, pulling you roughly beside him. As you crossed through the grand golden gates, your breath caught. The palace was magnificent, towering and glittering in the golden light, its beauty almost blinding. It was like stepping into a dream, something so beautiful, so overwhelming, it felt unreal. But all you could feel was the suffocating grip of Sebastian’s hand, his presence a chain, dragging you deeper into a world you wanted no part of.

But the moment you crossed the threshold, something else took hold of you—a scent, one you couldn’t place but that sank into your senses like fire and silk. It was sweet, yet left a trace of salt on your tongue, like a tease of something forbidden. Your wolf stirred violently, clawing at you, demanding you follow it, to find the source. Instinctively, your feet moved in the same direction the scent was coming from, pulling you toward it, but then, Sebastian’s grip tightened.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was low, cold. He yanked you back, his eyes locking on yours, hard and blazing with fury. You whimpered, trying to suppress the surge of your wolf's presence, but it clawed beneath your skin, making you tremble.

You weren’t scared. Not of him. But the loss of that intoxicating scent stung like a fresh wound, an aching emptiness you couldn't explain. You glanced down, guilt swirling in your chest, and muttered an apology, though you weren’t sure why.

Alpha Sebastian’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as he glared at you. His nostrils flared as if he was holding himself back. You knew he wanted to lash out, to punish you for daring to act on impulse, but here, at Lycan palace, surrounded by other powerful alphas, his hands were tied. He couldn't do anything here. Not openly, at least. He was smart enough to understand the consequences of disrupting the highly anticipated celebration of the Lycan king.

His grip was bruising as he yanked you close again, his fingers digging into your skin, and without another word, he dragged you forward, his movements sharp and impatient. You stumbled, trying to keep up, your chest tight, the air thick with the scent you couldn't chase. Every step away from it felt like losing a piece of yourself.

The grand hall you were pulled into was nothing short of magnificent—gleaming chandeliers hung like jewels from the high ceilings, casting a golden light across the polished marble floors. The walls were draped in rich, dark silks, with delicate gold accents that made the entire space feel otherworldly. Tables were laid out with decadent feasts, plates filled with dishes you couldn’t name, though their smells mingled together in an overwhelming haze of spices and sweetness.

Wolves of every rank were scattered around the room, their conversations buzzing in the air, their clothes elegant and fashionable. Alphas stood tall, their chests puffed out as if to assert their dominance even here. Lunas, the mates of the alphas, swirled in flowing gowns, their laughter light but their eyes sharp. You could see them dancing together—pairs spinning in perfect harmony, their movements fluid and powerful, exuding grace and strength. For a moment, you let yourself imagine being in that position. How it would feel to be in your mate's arms, not dragged around like a possession, but held close, cherished.

Your heart ached at the sight. You wanted that too—a mate, someone who would look at you the way these alphas gazed at their lunas, with love and pride. The longing inside you twisted, pulling at the raw edges of your soul. The scent that had driven you mad earlier lingered in the back of your mind, making it impossible to forget. It was as if your wolf was howling inside you, desperate for something you couldn’t reach.

As you and Alpha Sebastian made your way deeper into the hall, Royal Beta Kane approached, his posture stiff but polite. His eyes flicked to you, then quickly back to Sebastian. "Alpha Sebastian," he greeted with a slight nod, his voice steady though his expression barely hid the distaste he had for the man beside you. Kane was well respected, a figure of calm authority, but here, in front of Sebastian, there was something uneasy about the way his jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Alpha Sebastian barely acknowledged him, his fingers still digging into your arm. “Bee, this man has some serious issues,” your wolf whispered in your head, and you couldn’t help but agree. Alpha Sebastian was undeniably disrespectful. Beta Kane could easily take him down, but you trusted that he wouldn’t; he was strong yet kind. Kane's gaze slid to you again, softer this time, but still cautious. "Welcome," he added, though it was clear the welcome was more for you than the alpha at your side. There was something in his tone that hinted at a shared understanding, like he knew more than he was letting on. "The night’s just begun."

Before you could respond, a woman appeared at Kane’s side, her posture relaxed but her smile sharp. Beta female Shina, Kane’s mate. She greeted you with warmth that almost made you drop your guard, her hand gently touching your arm. "You look stunning tonight," she said kindly, but there was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes. Curiosity, maybe even suspicion. Her words seemed genuine, yet you could feel the weight behind them, like she was searching for something in you.

“Thank you!” you replied, a subtle smile touching your lips. “You look lovely as well.”

Shina’s gaze lingered a little too long before she asked, almost too casually, "Have you found your mate yet?" The question came like a dagger wrapped in silk. Her tone was light, but you could feel the intensity of her interest, the way her eyes seemed to pierce through you, trying to extract some hidden truth.

You opened your mouth.

Then closed it again.

You hesitated, but before you could say anything, Sebastian’s grip tightened, pulling you closer to him. "That’s not a concern right now," he interjected smoothly, his voice cold but controlled, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He didn’t even look at Shina, his eyes staring straight ahead, but his tone was enough to shut the conversation down. "We’re here for the gathering, not to entertain idle gossip."

Shina’s smile didn’t falter, but you could see the flicker of disapproval in her eyes, though she quickly masked it. Kane, on the other hand, openly glared at Alpha Sebastian for a split second before offering a strained smile. "Of course, Alpha." His voice was clipped, and you could sense how much he loathed the man dragging you around like a trophy.

As you continued through the hall, your eyes wandered again. The space was filled with grandeur, but it all felt suffocating, like you were on display for everyone to judge. The music, the laughter, the mingling wolves—it all felt distant, like you were watching from behind a glass, detached from the joy around you. Your focus kept drifting back to that scent, tugging at your mind like a beacon, and every step Sebastian pulled you further from it, the more hollow you felt.

Then, as you glanced back at the couples dancing together, something inside you snapped. Your wolf stirred, restless, a growl rumbling in the back of your throat as you watched their perfect harmony. You wanted that too, but not with Alpha Sebastian. Never with him. The frustration, the longing, everything was becoming unbearable. You could feel your wolf pushing at the edges of your control, wanting to break free, to find the source of that scent that had consumed you.

Alpha Sebastian suddenly pulled you closer, his face hard as he whispered into your ear, his breath hot and cruel. "Keep your eyes forward," he growled. "You’re making a spectacle of yourself." His grip on you tightened again, and this time, you felt your resolve harden.

The night was only beginning, but you were already suffocating.

The night stretched on painfully. Eyes followed you everywhere, and not just because you stood beside an alpha. You could feel the weight of their scrutiny—the whispers, the stares from the other wolves, especially the women. The kind of attention that crawled under your skin, making your body tense and your heart race. But you knew why they looked at you like that.

Alpha Sebastian had lost his mate. Your luna, beautiful, kind, beloved by the pack, was gone. And yet here he was, parading you around like a replacement. It didn’t sit right with the other alphas. Their glances spoke volumes—curiosity, disdain, disbelief. Even the lunas looked at you like you had somehow betrayed your mate’s memory, as if you had willingly stepped into this twisted role.

But they didn’t know the truth. None of them did.

You forced yourself to stand tall, even though their whispers buzzed like wasps in your ears, stinging with every word. They thought you wanted this—power, position. They thought you were trying to become the next luna. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Power meant nothing to you. All you wanted was freedom. To be loved, to be safe, to find your mate and escape this nightmare.

Alpha Sebastian’s hand was still a vise around your arm, his anger barely contained. You could feel it radiating off him in waves, his frustration at being unable to act, his fury at the alphas who dared question him. His eyes burned with it every time someone looked at you for too long, his grip tightening as if to remind them that you were his.

But suddenly, it hit you again—the scent. That same intoxicating smell that had nearly pulled you under earlier. Sweet, but with that strange, salty edge. Your wolf surged to life inside you, snarling, pushing, desperate to follow it, to find its source. You tensed, fighting the urge to tear away from Sebastian’s hold, to run toward it. Your breath quickened, heart pounding as the scent grew stronger, pulling at you like an invisible thread.

Your wolf howled in your chest, clawing to get free. You couldn’t stop it this time. Your body trembled, muscles twitching with the need to move, to find the one who carried that scent.

Alpha Sebastian must have felt the shift in you because he suddenly jerked you closer, his face twisted in rage as he leaned down, hissing in your ear. “Don’t even think about it.”

But, it was too late. The worst was already done. You were the one who had done it.

Your hands were trembling, outstretched before you, eyes glazed over with a wild yellow glow as your wolf surged to the surface. You didn’t even realize what you’d done until you saw him—Sebastian—your alpha, sprawled on the floor. His face twisted in shock, a groan escaping his lips, the pain evident in his expression. But it wasn’t the pain that held his features for long. It was humiliation. His eyes, wide with disbelief, met yours, and then that disbelief turned into something worse.

Rage.

A cold shiver ran down your spine as his eyes burned into you, glowing with that fierce, golden fury only an alpha possessed. You knew you had crossed a line. A line no one crossed and lived to tell about. Panic bloomed in your chest, a voice screaming inside your head, This is it. You’re going to die. Today’s your last day on this earth.

"Really, Bee? You're telling yourself that crap? He won’t kill you." Your wolf's voice broke through, but her words didn’t settle the fear. Not when you saw Alpha Sebastian’s jaw clench, the muscles ticking as his eyes flared even brighter.

He stood, his movements quick and deadly, not even brushing off the dirt on his clothes as he advanced. In a heartbeat, his hand was on you again, tighter than before, pulling you forward with a bruising grip. You stumbled, your feet barely keeping up as he dragged you through a maze of dark hallways. The walls seemed to close in, the darkness swallowing you both, but none of it mattered. The scent—the one that had your wolf clawing to the surface—grew stronger, pulling you closer to it with each step.

But then, he stopped.

Before you could even catch your breath, Alpha Sebastian slammed you against the cold stone wall, his hand wrapping around your throat, cutting off your air. Your back hit the wall hard, knocking the wind out of you, and you gasped, clawing at his hand. His grip only tightened. You could feel your wolf shrinking, her presence slipping away, retreating like a coward.

“How dare you,” he snarled, his face inches from yours, his breath hot and bitter on your skin. His eyes blazed with raw fury, and you could almost feel the heat of it searing into you. “You fucking slut!” The words were venom, dripping with hate as his grip tightened even more. The edges of your vision blurred, your chest heaving as you tried to suck in what little air you could.

"Yuck," your wolf muttered from the far corners of your mind, disgusted. But you couldn’t respond to her, not with the way his hand was crushing your windpipe.

“You dare embarrass me? In front of them? In front of the all? All those people?” His voice was low, dangerous, his wolf rising to the surface as well. The deep growl that followed shook through your chest, sending tremors of fear straight to your core. You had never seen him this enraged before. His wolf was there, just beneath the surface, and you knew the consequences would be dire.

Your hands reached up, weakly clawing at his arm, but his strength was overwhelming. Your legs trembled, barely able to hold you up, and your mind was screaming at your wolf to help, to do something, but she stayed hidden, her tail tucked, too afraid to face what she had started.

Coward, you thought bitterly, your vision growing darker as Alpha Sebastian’s grip tightened. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on.

Your vision began to blur, the edges darkening as you felt consciousness slip through your grasp like water. The pressure on your throat was suffocating, your body giving in, but just before the darkness could pull you under, a thunderous growl reverberated through the palace walls. It was so powerful that even Alpha Sebastian stumbled back, his grip releasing you as he collapsed to the ground.

Gasping for breath, your body slumped against the wall. You barely had a moment to recover when you heard it: "Your Majesty." The words, though whispered by Sebastian, echoed with fear. His head was bowed, his voice faltering despite the forced firmness.

The moment the air returned to your lungs, that scent hit you again, this time sharper, intoxicating, and overpowering. Your gaze, still weak from the lack of oxygen, followed the scent until your eyes locked on him—the Lycan King, Jeon Jungkook. The air thickened around you, and before you could stop it, your wolf stirred, her presence undeniable as she howled the word: Mate.

You had dreamed of meeting your mate countless times, picturing it so vividly that it felt real in those sleepless nights. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, your mind running wild with every possible scenario—bumping into him unexpectedly, his eyes locking with yours, an instant connection that would spark something deep inside you. You imagined feeling safe, cherished, like every piece of you had finally fallen into place. Each night, the thought of him made you smile, and you held on to the hope that your meeting would be nothing short of perfect.

But nothing had prepared you for the way it actually happened. It was nothing like the gentle, romantic moments you had envisioned. Instead, it was raw, overwhelming, and filled with tension you didn’t know how to handle. The reality of your mate was so much more intense, almost frightening, and certainly not what you had expected. There was no softness, no easy smiles or warm embraces. There was only the power of his presence, the way his gaze pierced through you, the storm that surrounded both of you from the moment your eyes met.

And yet, despite the fear and confusion, despite how things had unraveled in the most unexpected way, a strange sense of satisfaction settled in your chest. There was something about him, something undeniable, that made all of it—every sharp moment, every overwhelming second—feel right. You couldn’t explain it, but even after all that had happened, you were glad you were here, glad you had come.

And a broken sob tore from your throat, your body shaking as you instinctively reached out toward him, the one you were bound to. Jungkook stood at the entrance, his broad frame tense, caught between shock and a deep, simmering rage. Despite the anger rolling off him in waves, his presence brought you an unexpected sense of calm. You inhaled shakily, your gaze clinging to him, your wolf desperate to reach her mate.

Jungkook’s eyes flicked over your figure, pausing as he swallowed hard, but when they fell on the bruises circling your neck, his expression hardened once more. His entire posture shifted, muscles coiled tight with barely restrained fury. Just as you tried to crawl toward him, Alpha Sebastian’s rough hands grabbed you, yanking you back toward him.

Jungkook's eyes darkened further, his gaze a cold, lethal blaze. The air around him seemed to still, thick with the weight of his fury. His lips curled back, baring teeth in a vicious snarl as he took another step forward. The ground seemed to tremble beneath his feet, and even Sebastian flinched under the intensity of his presence.

"Take your filthy hands off her." His voice was low, commanding, vibrating with power. There was no question in his tone, only an undeniable force. His eyes never left Alpha Sebastian’s, burning with a warning that promised destruction. "Now."

Alpha Sebastian, frozen by the sheer weight of Jungkook's command, released you instantly. His trembling hand dropped to his side as he took a half-step back, but it wasn’t enough.

"I'm afraid I'm unable to understand you, your majesty. She is my mate—" Alpha Sebastian's voice trembled with urgency, his brow furrowed and eyes wide, fists clenched at his sides. He felt the heat of the moment, the tension wrapping around them like a coiled snake, ready to strike.

Before he could finish, a low growl rumbled through the air, echoing off the stone walls like thunder. Alpha Sebastian flinched, his muscles tensing instinctively as he met the piercing gaze of the Lycan king. The alpha’s chest heaved with a mixture of anger and desperation, a primal instinct fighting against the authority before him.

Jungkook's hand gripped your waist, yanking you upright with a sudden, rough motion that left you gasping. His touch wasn’t gentle—it was possessive, and in that moment, you felt like nothing could tear you from him. His body pressed against yours, a solid wall of fury, his scent engulfing you, filling every part of your senses. His eyes, wild and unrelenting, flicked back to Sebastian, voice low, deadly.

"You think she’s yours?" He laughed, a dark, humorless sound, his lip curling in disgust. "I should rip you apart just for daring to speak those words." His grip on your waist tightened as his gaze bore into Alpha Sebastian, his voice dropping to a growl that was pure dominance. "She is mine. Her soul, her body, her very breath belongs to me." His eyes gleamed with a deadly promise. "Touch her again, and I’ll show you what happens to those who cross me."

Alpha Sebastian took another step back, fear flickering across his face. But Jungkook wasn’t done. His smile stretched wider, more menacing, as he tilted his head, eyes narrowing into slits. "You don’t get it, do you?" he spat. "She was never yours. Not for a second. She is mine—my mate, my queen, and you will never touch her again, not in this life or any other."

You felt your heart race at the possessive words, but the weight of them brought you comfort, a promise of safety in the chaos. Jungkook’s hold on you tightened just slightly, and you leaned into him, the warmth of his body pushing away the cold fear that had taken hold of you moments before.

Before Alpha Sebastian could respond, Jungkook scooped you up effortlessly and turned away, walking swiftly to somewhere unfamiliar. But you didn’t care where he was taking you. You exhaled loudly, resting your head on his shoulder. His body, already tense, grew even more rigid under your touch. His eyes darted to you, wide and hesitant—almost scared. Scared?

"Why does he look like he’s seen a ghost? I told you to wear that red dress bee. You do look like a ghost in white." your wolf’s voice echoed in your mind, sharp with irritation. "I’m already furious that Alpha is still breathing, but this? This isn’t something I expected from a king. Not nearly possessive enough."

Her words shocked you, but you had to admit, she had always been bold, unapologetic in her opinions. You didn’t have time to respond, though, as you realized Jungkook had carried you into a room. It was dark and dusty, the air stale, as if no one had used it for months. Gently, he laid you down on the bed, his touch surprisingly careful. You were hurt, but your wolf had healed most of the injuries, leaving you with barely a bruise. Still, you couldn’t help but savor the attention, his attention, as fleeting as it was.

He stepped back, hesitating. You could feel the tension thick in the air, the way his gaze lingered on you, searching, maybe even conflicted. He wanted to say something—you could tell by the tightness of his jaw, the way his fists clenched at his sides—but silence stretched between you, suffocating. You finally broke it.

"So, is this your room?" You said shyly, but he only stared at you. His eyes glazed with half longing and half disdain. "It’s not bad, just… not clean." You explained further.

"It’s a guestroom," he replied curtly, his voice hollow, leaving you confused. Before you could press further, he turned, his broad shoulders tense as he faced the door. "I’ll send someone to tend to you."

"Why?" you blurted out, panic rising in your chest. Why is he leaving? Male wolves were notorious for not leaving their mates' side after meeting, sometimes staying close until the bond was fully cemented. He was the Lycan King—shouldn’t his need to be near you be even stronger? Why was he abandoning you here?

His back still to you, his voice came out low, almost growling, "I’m no saint, and this isn’t some fantasy. Being bonded to me isn’t a blessing—it’s a curse. The Moon Goddess punished you, and I’m here to make sure you live through it."

With that, he walked out, leaving the room before you could say another word.

You stood there, stunned, the weight of his words sinking deep into your bones. Your knees buckled, and you collapsed onto the bed, mind reeling. Punishment? What had just happened? He had claimed you, pulled you from Alpha Sebastian, protected you—only to throw you away like this?

You pressed a trembling hand to your chest, trying to make sense of it all, but the pain was sharper than any of your injuries. What did this mean? What had you done to deserve this?

Taglist: @jksusawife @nnnnmmmuuiu @jiminismine4ever @freyaniobe @piercidh34rts @furioustrashlover @lola75111 @pitchblack0309 @whoa-jo @teeheewhy13

a/n: Let me know what you think in any way you like—comments, messages, carrier pigeons, whatever! What's your favorite part of this chapter? I'd love to hear! If you want to be tagged for future chapters, just holler. Also, character asks and drabble requests are open, so hit me up with your wildest ideas.

[visionsofcarnality]

Ptolemaea:

Aemond Targaryen x Daemyra’s Daughter!fc

Ptolemaea: To betray a guest that has been invited into your home.

a/n: The original concept for this came from @ellijg who dmed me this concept and i added my own little details to it. The original concept was Daemon and Rhaenyra’s daughter was best friends with Aemond during childhood and the daughter was at Rook’s Rest which triggered Aemond to think about when he killed her brother Lucerys. Obviously spoilers for both Fire and Blood and HOTD 204 are below. This short story deals with violence, grief, betrayal, and more than one stabbing.

Other notes: Ptolemaea is also a good song to listen to during this.

"Do you think Aegon and Helaena will be happy?" She asked him? turning her violet eyes to try and find his. "Married?"

"I hope so..." Aemond murmured softly, running his fingers over the softly carved wings of a wooden dragon toy they'd stolen from the King's chambers. "But I think not."

Alysanne frowned softly, turning her head back to the sky where they could just spot Sunfyre and Dreamfyre circling the city. Not quite touching, just observing each other. Each a spectator to the other's solitude. Even in her young mind she wondered if the beautiful beasts were mimicking their riders. Caution reigning over curiosity.

"Pray to the Seven..." She settled deeper into the grass, trying to push the thoughts of unhappy partnerships behind. "I hope I will never marry."

"I will marry you." He countered, causing her head to snap back in his direction, mouth open to protest before he continued. "You can live on Dragonstone, I'll stay in the keep. No one will ever be able to make you do anything."

"Except you." She hedged, clearly looking for the catch in this vow.

"I could never command you." He scoffed, a faint smile leaving his lips. "Zaldrīzes dohaeriros iksos daor."

(A dragon is not a slave)

She matched his smile with her own, laughing softly. "We could be free."

"We could be free." He conceded, watching his niece instead of the clouds when she told him one looked almost like the dragon she'd claimed. The she dragon once ridden by the Queen she was named after; Silverwing.

Alysanne screamed in pure horror when Vhagar's teeth closed around Meleys' neck, crunching disturbingly. She felt a sob tear from her throat as the dragon stopped fighting and finally fell limp, hurtling towards the earth at the speed only a creature the size of a dragon could achieve. Even from her distance she could just see the arms of her beloved Cousin Rhaenys, lifted by the rush of the fall like she was surrendering to her fate.

The explosion from the impact of Meleys' body on the ground shook the castle she was circling and a pained wail left her. One that Silverwing matched, trilling a sound that onlookers would describe in the history books as despair.

There was no time for grief, not as Alysanne, still with tears in her eyes, saw Vhagar circle back around and turn towards the castle of Rook's Rest. She pushed aside the image of Rhaenys falling through the blue sky and focused on what was in front of her. Meleys had blown a passage through the wall of the Keep, one the footsoldiers were now running through. If her faction were to stand even a small chance, she had to distract Vhagar to let Rhaenyra's soldiers close in behind them.

"Dohaeragon, Silverwing." She sobbed into the Dragon's large neck. "Īlon līs jikagon va." She encouraged her, fastening the straps holding her to her saddle even tighter until the skin around her armored hips felt pinched. "Nābēmagon, Gēlenka Tīkun."

(Dohaeragon: Serve/Serve me. Īlon līs jikagon va: We must go on. Nābēmagon Gēlenka Tikun: Attack, Silver Wing.)

Silverwing chirped a high, almost musical, roar and obeyed. The she dragon violently whipped her light wings against the air current below them, launching her and her rider higher. They were now almost level with Vhagar and Aemond.

Aemond twisted in his saddle at the sound of Silverwing's call, eye widening in dread. "No," He shook his head, willing Alysanne to turn her mount away from the battle. "Stubborn girl..." The words were followed by a soft curse as Vhagar inevitably circled to face Silverwing. "No! Vhagar, no!" He cried, yanking uselessly on the reigns.

"Vhagar, no!" The sound of bone crunching could be heard even above the thick rain as Vhagar's mouth closed around Arrax's body... Around Lucerys.

"Vhagar, stop! Not her!" He screamed. "Not her! Dohaeragon, Vhagar. Rybagon issa!" Vhagar paid him no mind, raising her mighty neck to deliver a killing blow to the smaller dragon.

(Rybagon issa: hear me.)

On Silverwing, Alysanne watched the great beast move like a fanged glacier, the slow speed somehow making her movement all the more intimidating. She swallowed her fear, closing her eyes for half a moment and letting herself remember Rhaenys. Her death could not be in vain. She would not lose this battle.

"Come on, girl." She called harshly, gripping the reins tight. "We can take them." Silverwing answered lightly and beat her wings harder, launching them higher.

"No..." The sight of Arrax's wing tumbling to the dark water like a maple tree seed. Spinning and circling as it still spewed the steaming blood of the young dragon. He wondered absently how much of the blood on Arrax's scales was his... and how much was Lucerys'.

The ride back to King's Landing was numb. Even the cold rain and the pain in his hands from his grip on Vhagar's leads couldn't shake him from his stupor.

Vhagar roared with a sound that was more felt than heard, but there was no mistaking the answering melodic call of Silverwing as she met the larger beast without fear. Aemond pulled Vhagar back with all his might, crying out with the effort of trying to turn such a massive beast away from the woman he may have once called his wife.

It was barely enough, Vhagar finally banked with a roar of outrage, but not before Silverwing made impact with the larger she dragon's hind leg, slicing savagely through to the bone. Vhagar moaned in anger and writhed in the air, shaking the reflective dragon off. Alysanne and Silverwing hung on, bravely tearing chunks from Vhagar's flesh until the jade queen twisted in a slow death roll and brought her tail up towards her leg, smacking savagely into the side of Silverwing and sending her flying.

Aemond watched in horror as his nightmares became reality. The flashing of Silverwing's light scales as she spun out of control looked all too similar to the way Arrax had spiraled as bits of him fell to the ocean. He could just barely see Alysanne, clutching her dragon's neck like she was attempting to comfort her even in the free fall. Even though she would surely die should the impact come for them both.

Silverwing crashed into the trees below them, knocking more than a few of them down with her momentum, a shrill, ululating whistle of pain rising above the screams and clanging of steel.

"Down, Vhagar, land." He instructed without emotion, letting Vhagar carry them both to the ground near where Silverwing had made impact.

Alysanne nearly screamed in effort, trying to pull the clasp of her strap from the saddle as it had become crushed during the fall, the metal loop closing entirely on the latch of her riding lead. When it was made clear the metal wouldn't budge she huffed and drew her dagger, slicing clean through the crafted leather. No sooner was she free than she was sliding down Simverwing's back to rush towards her head, checking the dragon over for injuries.

"Oh, my girl." She crooned, pressing her forehead to Silverwing's nose with a soft sob. "I thought we were lost." Silverwing purred against her rider, the sound carrying a soft whistle with it.

"Alysanne!" The harsh shout of her name had the hairs on the back of her neck rising, followed by the crunching of leaves and twigs under hurried feet.

"Ssh..." She soothed her mount with a soft kiss to her face. "It's okay." Silverwing rustled nervously but obeyed with a soft chuff that blew smoke up through Alysanne's silver-gold hair, joining the smoke and soot that already covered her rider.

"Alys!" Aemond called the nickname he'd used for her when they were children, clearing the last of the branches to reveal Silverwing on her side, laying calmly among the destruction caused by her fall. Weary, but alive. There was no sign of Alysanne.

Or so he thought. A primal yell came from his flank and he turned just in time to catch Alysanne's sword arm as she swung a dagger over his head. His hand just stopped the impact of the blade a finger's length from his good eye, and they locked in a stare. Alysanne was covered in soot and smoke, smeared by the tears running down her face and looking in her eyes. Though the tears were not betrayed by her expression, her mouth and brow twisted in fervent wrath.

"Alys-" He started, trying to wrestle her arm down and away from him. Before he could finish she suddenly dropped the dagger and caught it with her other hand, driving it towards his side. He had just enough time to sidestep her so that the blade met him in the thigh instead of the gut where she had intended.

"You!" She wailed, the sound almost animalistic. "Kinslayer! Traitorous, two-faced villain!" Her words cut him deep and he felt his face fall as he beheld the ferocity and rage she threw at his feet.

"Alys, stop!" He shouted, grabbing both her flailing arms and twisting her wrist until she cried out and dropped the dagger. "Listen to me!" She did no such thing, kicking out with both legs to try and force him off her. The impact cleared the air from his lungs but only served to topple them both to the scorched forest floor, his body on top of hers. She writhed in his grip, growling like a harpy, but he was stronger and larger than she was , nailing her arms to the ground with both hands and sitting down harshly on her hips to keep her from squirming too much.

"Stop fighting me!" He roared into her face, and she only fought harder, drawing her own blood as she clenched her hands into fists, digging the nails into the meat of her palms with her effort.

"No!" She screamed in response, trying to bring her legs up to knee him in the back. "I will never stop fighting you! I will kick and scream and fight you until you either kill me or I kill you!" She sobbed, her fight losing some of its momentum as she cried.

"Alys-"

"You killed them!" She wailed, choked sounds of grief leaving her as she continued to fight him. "You killed them both! Your kin!"

"It was an accident!" He matched her cries, feeling his own tears start to well. "What happened with Lucerys... I never meant for Vhagar to harm him!"

"He was three and ten!" She wept miserably, her arms and legs starting to slacken in his hold as he grief overcame her sadness. "He was a child, Aemond! A babe! Him and Arrax both!"

"And what of our children?" Some of his tears dropped to her face and she shook them off agitatedly. "Jaehaerys? Maelor, who will never forget how his mother wished him dead? Jaehaera, who lost her twin?"

"Rhaenyra had nothing to do with that!" She hissed through her tears. "It was Daemon who ordered your head be brought to him. He did not plan on your chambers being empty. You were too busy whoring to protect your own nephew!" Her voice rose through the sentence until she was screeching in his face again.

"Enough, woman!" He snapped, lifting her briefly to slam her back into the ground in an attempt to stop her from spewing more of his darkest regrets. "You think I wanted this? You think that I wanted my nephews dead?"

"Mayhaps not." She panted coldly, eyes icing over as she looked between the patch and his single purple eye. "But you wanted your brother dead." Aemond's blood ran cold. "I saw you. I saw you order Vhagar. You fired upon your own brother with no regard for his life. Your King! You were too blinded by your own hatred and ambition to stay loyal to your brother!"

He leaned into her space, so close their noses almost touched and he could smell the salt in the tears cutting through the soot on her cheeks. “That fire was for Meleys. Aegon was the idiot who held on and didn’t order Sunfyre away.”

At that, she did the unthinkable. She laughed at him.A disturbing, humorless laugh that made a chill run down his spine. “Your convolutions may be enough for your mother and your small council, but you cannot fool me Aemond.” She sneered, venom dripping from every word. “You never could.”

“Have you no memory of us as children?” He was grasping now, trying to find a way to pull her close as she only tried to get farther away. “What has become of those children?”

“You did this to us!” She cried, rage awakening anew. “It was your actions, not mine! Your ambition! Your anger! Your ceaseless vengeance and need for retribution!” Silverwing shifted uncomfortably at the sounds of her rider’s distress, but did not rise. “Your constant need to be feared and loved! You claim loneliness, did I not love you enough?” She was sobbing again. “Have I not given everything I could to you and your complexes? Was I not enough for you, Aemond? Or did you think that I could love you and fear you at once?” She finally stopped fighting him, laying lax against the soot-covered ground as he processed her deepest questions. “If I had loved you better would you have spared my brother?” She mewled through her tears. “If I had feared you the way you wanted Luke to fear Vhagar?”

Aemond did not answer, and another tear rolled down his face and he watched it land on her wobbling bottom lip. She looked away from him, arms shifting restlessly. “Even now…” She mused, sounding truly broken. “You cannot answer me.” She scoffed. “Nothing will ever be enough for you, Aemond. You ride the largest dragon, you claimed your vengeance on my little brother, you’ve now deposed your brother as King…” The expression she turned on him was nothing short of disgust edged with pity. “You will never be happy.” She sighed, “Never satisfied.”

“Alys-“ He was cut off from finishing her name when he felt a sharp pain in his side, just below the crest of his hipbone. The only place on his body she could reach with her arms restrained against him. When he looked down he saw the hilt of Aegon’s dagger protruding from his doublet. She’d taken the dagger he plucked from the crater of Sunfyre and Aegon…

Aemond loosed his grip on her in shock, feeling blood pool under his clothes and soak his riding clothes. Alysanne scrambled from beneath him as he hitched to the side, catching himself on one hand and breathing heavily.

“Alysanne!” He called out, watching her hair fly behind her as she sprinted to Silverwing and deftly climbed onto her back, strapping herself into the saddle with quick, shaking hands. “Alysanne!” He repeated, louder now, desperation tinting his voice as he simultaneously tried to stem the bleeding from his side as well as from the dagger still lodged in his thigh.

She paid him no mind as she ordered Silverwing into the sky and the downwind from her mighty wings hit Aemond full force, knocking his weakening body to the ground on his back, helpless as he watched her fly away.

He watched her until Silverwing was just a reflective dot on the sky, and the last thing he heard was a knight shouting his title before he succumbed to sleep from the blood still flowing under him.

[dotster001]

Hello, I really enjoy your writing and I hope you have a nice day! Could I request housewardens + Floyd reacting to knowing Yuu/MC who they know as chaotic, problem seeking, lazy, and just overall a terrible student (with a nice heart tho) used to be at the top of their school, and was the teacher's pet? They had a lot of pressure to never have fun because it could ruin their future, but now they don't have a future, or a reputation, and they won't be great at any subjects anyway (since it's not their world and they are magicless) so they just decided to be a force of chaos, they can't be #1? Then why even try?

Sorry if it's long:( if you decide to do it, thank you very much (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

A/N: was this a call out post? Yes. Yes it was. 😂

3k followers Masterlist

Before he finds out about your past, he's just annoyed. So lazy! You need to at least pretend you care about school! You're no better than ADeuce! Be a better example, prefect.

After he finds out…oh God…that's him isn't it! He's always been top of his class! He's always had outside pressure to be the best! He's got a lifetime of repressed emotions whirling inside of him! 

He's having a complete mental breakdown, spiraling a little bit, and, unfortunately, you're going to have to calm him down. Hopefully, you're stable darling! Cause one of you has to be! 

That's one way to go through life. He chooses to nap his life away, but if you wanna be a chaos gremlin, power to ya!

He says that, but he wants you to be less of a chaos gremlin, and more of a body pillow. Chaos gremlin ex gifted children, and depression ex gifted children get on like oil and water. *Sighs* you really make him work, don't you?

That said…he'll recruit Svanannaclaw lackies to your cause. And he'll find your lifestyle. You can cause as much chaos, and be as lazy as you want. All he wants in return is for you to return to his arms when you are done.

And hey, maybe he can be your new purpose- No! He didn't say anything! Sevens, your herbivore ears are so faulty, what is he gonna do with you?

He thinks you're another Floyd at first. The high levels of energy, followed by the drops, he's used to dealing with it.

But once he gets your origin story, he's going to make you an offer. Help him with his restaurants. He'll feed, clothe, and house you. All you have to do is say yes.

You can still be chaotic. You can still have your drops. But at least now you'll have a place to focus your energy. It's not much, but, in his opinion, it's a deal you can't walk away from. Please don't walk away from it. You'll hurt his feelings 😢

You're so cool!!!!! You let him party whenever he wants!!!! And you have so many great ideas, like baking 97 cupcakes at three in the morning!

Maybe Jamil brought it up because he cared, maybe it's because he's tired of having to keep up with two gremlins it's definitely the latter but eventually he brings up that, hey, you seem a bit nihilistic. Explains what that is to Kelim, and now Kalim makes sure to spend double the time with you! Usually doing chaos stuff much to Jamil's chagrin

He won't bring it up with you, but his theory is that if he can become a reason for continuing on, of he can be part of your purpose, maybe things will be okay!

Ah Vil. A high achiever, who, like Riddle, is very distressed that you are clearly wasting your capabilities.

But let's say you have a breakdown. And during that breakdown you spill the tale of your life. He's gonna place his hands on your shoulders. Then aggressively shake you.

Pull yourself together! Do you want him to give you the pressure you had from before? Because he will if he has to! But he knows you don't want that, so snap yourself out of it and act like the Queen he knows you are! You have him, and a whole life ahead of you! He can help you find a purpose for your life! Now stop crying and drink your smoothie!

It might take a while for Idia to notice. Cause, well, he's sort of in the same boat as you. And noticing means he has to notice his own lifestyle choices...and...well...he doesn't want to do that.

So you both will live in innocent bliss as you game together, and nap together, and raid the pantry together at two in the morning, and skip classes together.

Once Ortho bursts the bubble, both of you will probably be placed in therapy. Good luck!

You amuse him to no end. And you speak to him like a normal person. You pull him along on adventures. Honestly? He has no desire to dig into your reasons for it. In fact, deep down he knows you're probably going through something, but he'd rather not know.

Which is why when Lilia tells him to dig into it, he pouts like a kid who was told to clean his room. Might even kick a rock around about it. He really looks like a pouting child.

But once he gets your life story, he'll perk up a bit. You want a purpose? He can give you one! Himself…I mean have you considered working in the libraries of the valley of thorns? It would give you uninhibited access to information about this world. Plus, you would still have the time to be lazy and fuck around if you wanted since he's really the only one who visits the library… oh, which library? His private one. Why do you ask?

Floyd won't help you. He will only enable you. He loves chaotic Shrimpy! He also loves that Shrimpy sometimes just wants to nap! You're perfect! His soulmate!

Nope, nope, nope, shrimpy is just like that, no need to ask questions!

Stop, stop, stop! That's how Shrimpy is! Don't ask about their past! Don't question their motives! Don't "help" them! They're fine!

[bberetd]

Mario and Daisy Headcanons

Currently on the road to go on vacation for the next week (and then go back to uni two days later 🫠) so I decided to take some time to write up some headcanons for Mario and Daisy! They’re a lot fun to draw, and just as much to write ☺️ I was originally going to pair it with the short ‘prologue’ story I had for them, but it got too long, so I’m gonna have it separate.

@vulpixfairy1985 @kelbreyworshipper @peaches2217 @itsavee4117 @supergay-64 @megamagimugi @pinkcreamypeach @wahooitsamee @silenzahra (when you’re ready <3) @mikibaby94 and @akiiame-blog I think you guys will like these 🤭

==

Meeting Each Other

• In their first few months of knowing each other, Daisy absolutely THRIVED on getting a rise out of Mario. “It’s funny seeing tiny people mad,” her reasoning was. It was always a good day for her, but it was a GREAT day when a vein was popping out of his forehead.

◦ Of course because everything is a game to Miss Daisy 😗

• The two had a rocky start… well, more on Mario’s end; Daisy was just there for a good time. For the most part, he remained civil towards her because she was Peach’s best friend and Luigi seemed to really like her (somehow).

• Not that Mario could never handle the truth, but to him, Daisy was ALARMINGLY blunt, ESPECIALLY around him, and had energy like he’s never seen before.

• What made him uneasy about her was how she interacted with people. She’s a physically affectionate person, so she’d do little things like shoulder punches/shakes, arm around the shoulder, hand on shoulder, playful pokes, etc. this was especially the case for Luigi, adding on spontaneous hugs, sometimes in the air.

◦ Luigi had to assure Mario over and over that he wasn’t uncomfortable, but the deep shade of red on his face around her convinced him otherwise.

◦ What made Mario snap was when she took Luigi on a solo tour around Sarasaland, but unintentionally got him badly hurt (more on this here), and immediately wanted nothing to do with her, no exceptions.

◦ Despite her questionable ways of showing affection, Daisy grew to genuinely like the bros, so she was disheartened when she heard the news. She wrote several letters to explain herself to give to Peach so she could give to Mario, but he was having none of it.

◦ A month after Luigi fully healed, Mario thought that maybe he was too harsh, but he still kept his distance.

• [insert event where Luigi is in trouble and they come together and bond over how much they care about him and learn a little more about each other in the process but NOT THERE YET… but at least Mario can stand to be around her again]

• What DOES make them closer is their love for sports and hands-on activities. Daisy is more eager to get her hands dirty unlike Peach, and unlike Luigi who would be more reluctant and stand behind Mario most of the time (of course the company is always appreciated)

◦ What starts off as a mission to annoy Mario (affectionate) turns into hours of cracking jokes, banter, life vents learning more from each other (whether it was what they were doing in the moment, from life or both).

Nicknames

• Mario’s nicknames for Daisy are Testa di spina (thornhead), D, Firecracker, Sriracha Queen, Crazy Daisy (more frequently when they were just meeting), and Petals

• Daisy’s nicknames for Mario are Red, Shortie, Short stack, SuperBoy, Fire hydrant, teletubby, Mawio, Mar-maid Man, Mustachio, Cap’n Lou (ironic right? also if you know you know), and Stimpy

Misc Headcanons

When these two work together in sports, they are a FORCE. They’re both jack of all trades on the field and on the racetrack.

When competing against each other however, it’s war. No mercy, no going easy on each other, but it brings out the best in them. Just to show respect and a sign of leaving their rivalry on the field, they do a long handshake.

Mario: *breathes*

Daisy: YOU’RE SHORT

and she’ll never go a day without letting him know it, but finds a unique way to show it each day.

They’re THE best hug givers. Mario and Daisy are incredibly warm people (Mario with his firebrand and Daisy ruling in a bright and humid environment). Mario’s stocky, so he’ll completely cover you with his love and warmth (and there’s plenty of him to hug in return), while Daisy’s hugs are tight but meaningful.

When these two hug each other, uh, let’s just hope they don’t squeeze the life out of each other 😅 they’re so competitive that they even need to compare who hugs better (creds to @teegeeteegee)

[Luigi and Peach walking and talking, then spotting Mario and Daisy either hugging or choking each other]

Peach: …What are you guys doing?

Daisy, not moving her head: We’re hugging, duh.

Peach: Why? (Not used to seeing the two showing this much affection to each other)

Mario: To see which of us hug better.

[L&P share a glance]

Luigi: Do you guys wanna, you know… unhug?

Mario and Daisy, realizing how nice the hug feels: …nah.

They’re partners in crime! They love pulling pranks on the koopas, goombas and other baddies, and maybe a harmless prank or two on the Toads and citizens over in Sarasaland.

It would take a near-death experience for either of them to ever say an emotional “I love you” to each other. At least Daisy mostly; Mario is more willing to say it. Daisy would usually say it lightheartedly (ex. “love ya!” followed by a punch to the shoulder or “you too” when Mario expresses his love out of habit). But they do show their care/love for each other through actions.

Mario knows Daisy is far from a princess who needs saving, but he still can’t help but have the need to protect her when the time comes.

Oh, and if you insult or hurt Mario, you better hope Daisy isn’t standing within a ten-mile radius with a steel chair.

Daisy loves to mess up Mario’s hair beyond recognition, while Mario loves to come up behind her and poke her sides (i imagine her making the “ah!” noise if you know, if not then this at 0:35)

When they feel playful, they talk to each other in funny accents.

==

[annes-andromeda]

⚠️Spoilers for Wish⚠️

While I am excited for/ planning to watch Disney’s Wish, I honestly wish (heh) they had gone with the original plan for Amaya’s character and made her a villain alongside Magnífico.

Like, I genuinely think it could’ve been cool to see them as partners in crime and be inspired by classic Disney villain traits: vain, narcissistic, power-hungry, cruel, and enjoyable to hate.

I could’ve seen their relationship as something similar to Scarlett and Herb Overkill from the Minions movie, where it’s two married villains who are clearly terrible people, but are still heads over heels for each other.

I’ve read the golden book and kids book of the movie that some people have uploaded on YouTube, and while those books tend to omit things from the actual film, they give us a basic synopsis of the overall story.

(SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE BELOW)

——————

Essentially, the story ends with Magnífico being sucked into his staff, Amaya rules Rosas and Star gives Asha a wishing wand (essentially making her a Fairy Godmother sort of character mixed with elements of Snow White)

It’s a pretty basic, cut-and-dry story and I’m not saying I expected Shakespeare or whatever, but imagine how much better the story would’ve been with both Magnífico and Amaya as the villains:

The story could’ve been that the kingdom of Rosas was ruled by Magnífico and Amaya, who both seemed charming and generous on the outside, but were greedy and self-serving on the inside. They essentially didn’t care for anyone but each other.

I’d also add Amaya’s cat Charo from the concept art book, cause it think it would be cute that these two are absolute shitheads, but are still cat parents who spoil their cat and take it everywhere.

Anyways… Magnífico, like in the actual story, only granted the wishes that benefited him (and his wife), while the majority of wishes were stashed away in his tower.

Asha wants to become Magnífico’s apprentice and when introduced to the wishes, wants to grant her grandfather’s wish and finds the kings (and queens) whole wish-granting system unfair to the people (again, like the canon material).

The story would then go like the actual movie: Asha makes a wish on a Star and Magnífico sees her as a threat to his power and hunts her down (only with Amaya by his side).

I’d like to think that while Magnífico has his moments where his true personality shines, I feel like Amaya wouldn’t truly snap until the very end, having a little more composure than her husband (similarly to the Evil Queen or Maleficent or Ursula)

In the end, the King and Queen are defeated and banished into Magnífico’s staff. Asha is named the new Princess of Rosas (or Queen, whichever you prefer), and she actually joins the Disney Princess lineup and it’s not just advertisement. Like the real story, Star gives her a wand and Asha becomes the new wish-granter.

It’s not perfect, but I think it may have been more interesting and entertaining to see rather than the typical director the creators went with the story

These are just my thoughts, however, I’m still gonna watch the movie and see I think about it.

[mrderofcr0ws]

idk about you guys but rooks rest in HOTD is not canon to me. the rest of this show isn’t canon from here on out because it’s obvious they hold no respect for aemond’s character or any character in fire and blood they way they were written originally. so many of the F&B characters have been written entirely wrong and it’s so blood-boiling. especially the greens!!! so many of them have such compelling stories and they’ve been thrown in the trash!

they’ve thrown helaena aside. in fire and blood, she’s a dragon dreamer! she has a dragon! she had three kids she loved so much! she is a valued queen of the realm! what is she in the show? the quiet one no one listens to or tries to connect with besides her own mom.

they’ve utterly ruined aemond. in so many ways, they’ve changed him drastically. while aemond does have hard feelings with aegon and makes some sly and questionable comments about aegon not being fit to rule— HE DOESNT TRY TO KILL HIS BROTHER???? I genuinely cannot fathom how the writers could sit in the writers room and be like, “yes. this plot line. this is gold.” they’ve ruined him. they have fucking ruined him, his loyalty, and what he is fighting for. “you think you can fly about the realm and steal MY brothers throne?” — AEMOND TARGARYEN!!!!! and you’re telling me he attempts to murder his brother? no. fuck off, no.

they’ve made aegon seem like nothing but an idiot. aegon may not be as smart as aemond but oh my god he’s not some blubbering stupid idiot who can’t sit still. they cut out his whole reason for ascending the throne as well and that is so damning to his character. aegon takes the throne because criston and alicent place the worry of his siblings being slain in his mind. they convince him rhaenyra will kill him, his siblings, and his children— so he takes the throne. “what kind of brother steals his sisters birthright?” — AEGON TARGARYEN

they have reduced alicent to criston’s fling and vise versa for criston. alicent was a strong and compelling character— and now we have to watch her give herself a miscarriage? really? the woman who was so adamant about her son ascending the throne is sitting there and telling him to do nothing after saying he should be asking questions and learning from them???? “nothing” is the answer you give your son — the king — after he asks for your advice, alicent? really? it just proves she and everyone around her raised aegon to be a puppet— and she’s so lost inside her own “sins” she can’t even see how damned her children are because she doesn’t take the time to actually care for them.

they’re going to introduce daeron soon but show watchers have no idea who he is. when he shows up, it’s not going to be meaningful. just like when aegon started acting all loving and silly on screen with his kids and it left being people like “wow, what the fuck???” IF YOU DONT SHOW THE CHARACTER OR WRITE THEM CORRECTLY, PEOPLE WONT FEEL ATTACHED TO THEM CORRECTLY!!!!

THE MISCHARACTERIZATION OF THESE CHARACTERS IS KILLING THIS SHOW!!!!!!!!

even with rhaenyra. i love that she wants to uphold peace and i think it’s so valiant, but everyone is ready for rhaenyra the cruel. give us maegor with tits the way she is in the books and stop having her care so much for alicent. it’s killing her reign. the men in her council are harping her and her not being around during the start of a wartime is maddening to watch. yes, she’s a mother. yes, she wants peace. but peace can’t be achieved through Alicent!!! I loved their relationship in the younger years, but there is nothing to salvage and I’m so fucking happy jace snapped at her. she shouldn’t care for alicent at all— because alicent in F&B was her older step-mother that didn’t get along with her. even in HOTD after rhaenyra knows alicent usurped her throne over a miscommunication, there shouldn’t be anymore “but we were once friends” moments. idc if it was a mistake on alicent part— that mistake is something she isn’t even willing to admit or fix. in rhaenyra’s eyes, alicent should no longer mean anything from here on out.

rhaenyra is also no more a pillar of peace than aegon is. they both do terrible things whether or not it takes rhaenyra longer to start doing them. they both get people killed. they BOTH tear down the realm in attempt to grapple for the throne.

it’s fucking exhausting at this point watching the writers play a game of “this side is more morally righteous” when they’re all bad. it’s even more frustrating when the cost of “this side is better than this side” comes by destroying these characters and ruining the moments that define them!!!

rooks rest was a shit show. not only did they make aemond do something ENTIRELY out of character for him, they didn’t even give rhaenys her correct death. she doesn’t fall to her death. she gets burned like a true dragonrider.

rest in piece to rhaenys— and to aemond because they just dug his whole character a grave to jump into when people watch next weeks episode.

[weird-addiction]

Dragon Factory

Pairing: House of the Dragon x Male!Reader, Platonic!Aemond Targaryen x Male!Reader

Genre: Neutral

Warnings: Descriptions of dragon death, mentions of gore, dismembered dragon, mentions of bones poking out of skin, mentions of illegal things and drugs, dragon organs and bones, Manipulation.

A/n: Based off the song Rainbow Factory

Have you ever wondered where or rather what happens to dragons when they die? Well, no one ever has wondered, the Valyrians were just happy enough to even have dragons. Since the beasts have lived longer for hundreds of years, they have never thought about what happened to them in the afterlife.

Well, let’s just say a dragon’s tale is not as nice as one may make it seem. 

Let’s delve deeper into dragon philosophy, far beyond that of Old Valyrian’s mythology. The people of Westeros very easily judged the Targaryens as being gods and lived comfortably within their homeland. There is a dark story to every fairytale after all.

Within the eastern parts of the unknown world, there is a place so well built that it looks like it fell out of the heavens. Fog, mist that surrounds the area looks like clouds that came from the stars. 

It was said that in those very halls, the dragons are built, made and put into their eggs. This is where the first true dragons made their appearances. 

Within the stories and myths that have been lost to time, the myth originated before the doom happened, and so after, the legend has died out with the new generations of House Targaryen, Velayron and Celtigar. 

The legends that were told for years, it is as it says below. 

‘Once a dragon dies,

It’s collected by their creator.

Taken apart,

The same way it was born.

It shall be renewed, remade, reborn.’

Since the reign and conquest of Aegon the Conqueror, when Meraxes and Queen Rhaenys both were shot down in Dorne, the Dornish reported that when they went to collect and tow the body of the dragon. The corpse was not whole, there were many parts already missing.

They suspected some people wanted a part of the dragon as an artifact, that rumor was believable until they realized and saw the entire wing that was missing from its left side. 

The eyes, the left wing, half of its teeth, scales of different parts, bones that were cut out from under its flesh, were all missing. However, one thing was for sure, the flesh that was torn seemed to be cut with precision. The person that did it, knew what they were doing and have been doing it for a long time. The wing that was torn off left no traces except for the bone that was poking as it was snapped off. 

And since then, that is still one of the biggest mysteries of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. 

The current princess of the realm, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen sat in Godswood under the same maple tree, with one of her friends in court next to her. Y/n L/n of the mysterious house L/n, he stood next to her leaning against the tree. 

The princess has just finished reading a story from the book of mythologies, Rhaenyra then turned towards him with a smile on her face. 

“What about you?” She asked, the book was still in her lap.

“Pardon princess?” Y/n spoke back, with confusion in his tone.

“What do you think happens to dragons after they die?” Her smile did not leave her face, features full of curiosity. 

Y/n thought through it for a moment before speaking again. “I am not the one with dragons princess, I do not know what happens to them.” 

“You must at least have thought of it before. I mean, the great Targaryen’s dragons, what happens to such great beasts after they die and rot away.” Rhaenyra’s words imply that she did indeed want an answer. 

“I am just an assassin that works for the council, I do not know of such things.” Y/n responded, his own smile stretching out on his lips.

“Oh please, you are anything but.” Rhaenyra stood up and licked arms with him. “You are anything but ‘just an assassin’.” 

“Rhaenyra we shouldn’t…link arms.”

“Why’s that?”

“I am not your betrothed.”

“But you are my friend.”

Y/n let out a sigh as they began to walk through the halls, Y/n was just an assassin that Viserys hired to take out anything to shut down anything that didn’t need Viserys to have dragons burn anything down.

No one knew of his origins, his house was a mystery to the court and council, but they wanted him regardless as his skills were very valuable. 

That night, Viserys has told Y/n of something going on in the city, so Y/n went to check it out in case it threatened the crown in any way. When Y/n got to Flea Bottom, finding the source of the problem which was just someone selling illegal artifacts and drugs. Realizing it was such a small problem, Y/n let them go, because if he did get that one man arrested, he might as well have the gold cloaks and arrest everyone that lived in Flea Bottom.

By the time he was walking to return to the Red Keep, he stopped by the dragon pit and checked on the dragons. Making sure no dragon was dying, or any of the eggs were not going to hatch. The dragon keepers had already left, going to the room where most of the eggs were kept in incubators. As soon as he stepped foot in there, he sensed something was wrong.

One of the eggs was not going to hatch, opening the incubator and taking out the egg. The egg was covered in silver colored scales, because it was in the incubator it should have been warm. But the egg was cold, not a sense of warmth as he held it in his hands. 

“Don’t worry. You will not be wasted.” Y/n mumbled to himself, his eyes not leaving the egg. Tucking it into his coat, carrying it back with him as he returned to his rooms through the secret passageways.

The next morning, he went to Viserys to ask for leave for a couple of days. The king agreed, it was not the first time that Y/n had done this.

“Again? Alright. Be safe Y/n.” 

“Of course, Your Grace.” He bowed before leaving the king’s rooms.

The dragon egg tucked into his coat as he walked to the gates, a horse that was already there for him. Mounting his steed with ease as the guards opened the gates. He rode east for days until he finally arrived at the ports to the Narrow Sea. 

This will be the last time he will ever step foot in the Crownlands known as the assassin within the king’s council, the next time he sees the Red Keep would be years from now. 

Once he docked on the easter lands, he managed to buy another horse and ride even more east. He arrived at his destination after months of travel. 

His palace was still as good as new. 

Y/n had managed to keep it hidden for all these years, doing what he was put into this world to do, remaking the dragons. When he saw the egg that went cold, Y/n made a decision; to raise the dragon as his own. In the future, it would be easier to collect parts and make transporting so much easier. 

His palace has been here even before Old Valyria had risen to power, Y/n was immortal just like the dragons that he remade and have been reborn again and again. 

Getting right to work as he got inside, the servants taking care of his horse and other needs. Cracking open the egg as saw the baby dragon that has already died, by the looks of it the wings weren’t even formed right.

Replacing the wings was the first part, taking the bones of bigger wings of others that had collected over the years, crafting them into a new pair of baby wings. Using the fire to merge the bones together. The wings were mended into its back rather than the front legs, as the original dragons had them like that instead. Everything else about the dragon was fine, but it did not have a heartbeat. 

Taking a jar off the shelf, the jar contained hearts of dragons that if anyone ever saw it, they would run and never look back. Pulling out a small one and putting it inside the one that just came out of the egg. 

The procedure was over rather quickly, Y/n’s hands were now covered in blood. 

Now he just had to get it into a new egg and put it into another incubator and wait for it to hatch. 

It only took three months before the dragon finally hatched, forming a bond with Y/n as it saw its creator for the first time. 

For the next ten years he raised the dragon on his own, the dragon he named Vallath. And that is when he returned to Westeros to see if he could collect anything else, while the people within the workshop of his palace will continue to make new dragons for years to come. 

When he was flying west, he flew over Pentos and felt like something was off. Y/n told Vallath to fly lower and settle down a good distance away from the source of the problem.

 Y/n snuck into the fortress and followed his instincts of where he felt the dying dragon, it led him into a room where there was a fireplace and a dragon egg leaned against the metal bars in front of the fire. He could tell the dragon within had not yet died, picking it up with urgency, he quickly left the room and snuck back out unnoticed.

Getting back to Vallath as he urged the beast to fly, Y/n realized his dragon had sensed another, or even multiple more dragons in the same area.

“What is it boy?” The dragon growled back, turning his head to point to where he was staring at earlier. 

A big green dragon flying in the distant skies, Y/n’s eyes narrowed as he knew who that dragon was. 

“Vhagar. Queen Visenya’s dragon, now claimed by the Lady Laena of house Velayron. As I have heard of course. “Worry not, ignore her and let’s go.” Patting his dragon’s neck as he got onto Vallath’s back.

Taking off once again, this time fully back to King’s Landing.

Y/n landed further away from the city to hide Vallath from the smallfolk’s eyes, he landed near the dragon pit to check on the dragons. Just for old times sake. 

When he entered the giant dome of a building, he saw some kids getting taught by the keepers while a dragon walked towards them. The dragon was small, barely able to fly or even carry anyone on their back. 

One of the keepers saw him and came over and talked with, fortunately, he knew High Valyrian well. He was around when the language was first created after all.

Y/n told the dragon keeper to tell Viserys he was back, the king would know who he is. The dragon keeper nodded and left to get the guards outside. Y/n stayed in the shadows and watched as the kids trained with the young dragon, soon their lesson concluded and the keeper left them.

He then saw they brought out a pig, three of the kids left and one was left. And by the looks of it, he was going down into the place where the dragon rested. This could mean a death sentence, so he followed quickly to make sure nothing stupid happened. 

Down into the tunnels, he saw fire lighting up the rocky tunnels up ahead, he walked fast to see what was happening. And there he saw it, the dragon Dreamfyre blowing out fire upwards as a threat. The kid he still did not know the name of, fell over in fear and turned to run. Y/n went over and pushed the kid behind him, while holding out a hand as he calmed Dreamfyre. 

Grabbing the smaller figure and getting out from the underground. The child did not struggle against him, but just went along with him.

“What were you thinking?” Y/n whispered yelled to him.

“I just wanted a dragon.” 

He could barely hear the words, but he did, and Y/n looked at him with confusion. 

“You do not have one? Well, that’s odd. But, not every Targaryen was a dragon rider, you know.” Y/n shrugged his shoulders.

“All my siblings have one! Even my nephews do! I am the only Targaryen with no dragon.” The older paused for a second as he let go of the child.

“What’s your name, boy?” 

“Aemond Targaryen.”

“Your parents?” 

“I am the second son of Viserys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower.” 

Y/n had to process what in the seven rings of hell he just heard. “I’m sorry. What?!” 

Aemond was taken back by this strange man, he had never even seen him in court or anywhere in the council before. 

“Alicent married. Viserys. What in the fuck happened while I was gone.” 

Aemond just looked and stood there confused.

—---------

Y/n went to the familiar rooms of the king, last time he was here was ten years ago. The guard yelled out his name, announcing his arrival to whoever was inside.

“Viserys?” The king before him was too different from how he remembered him last. 

“Y/n? Oh, Y/n. How good it is to have you back.”

Y/n was at a loss for words, Viserys was pretty already dying in front of him. His hairs are already falling out and his face has sunken to show his bones almost.

“Are you going to inform me of what happened when I was away?” 

Viserys nodded and began to explain, at the end he paused before asking the younger of where he went for ten years. “You said you had to leave for a few days. Then, next thing you were gone for ten years.”

“Yes…sorry about that..” Y/n’s voice was quiet, Viserys almost didn’t hear him.

The king wanted to know where he had been, but the other only responded with “Don’t worry about it.” With a smile at the end.

That night, the king threw a feast for having Y/n back at court. Everyone was seated at the long table as Y/n walked in, what caught everyone’s attention was the choice of clothing he wore that night. 

His robes were made of dragon scales and skin, they shimmered in the lighting of the hall. The different colors of the skins, the dark ones and bright ones contrasting each other, made him look like an actual dragon; and not just metaphorically. Around his neck, it sat a silver dragon necklace, an actual dragon that curled around him. 

He got to the table and sat down, he sat next to Alicent who was now a lot older, while on his other side were her children. Soon the feast began, Y/n made small conversation with Alicent. It did not take him long to know that Alicent was trying to get on his good side and have him side with Aegon being the future king.

What she did not know was that Y/n could care less about even being here, he did not care about who was king. As long as there were dragon parts for him to collect as they died, he would stay and do his job.

During the dinner, Aemond kept looking over at him, Y/n noticed this and it was quite obvious that the young prince wanted something. 

“My husband told me you have been away from court for ten years. Why is that?” Alicent asked.

“Oh, it is nothing, Your Grace. The matter was originally small, but turned into something bigger that I could not return for years.” Y/n lied right through his teeth, but the queen believed him regardless.

From across the table, he saw Rhaenyra sitting with her own children and husband; Laenor Velayron. When he was still at court, Rhaenyra had a thing for her own uncle he was sure, considering the fact the inbreeding and incest within the Targaryens don’t surprise him anymore. But another thing he had heard was that Laenor was interested in men instead of women, so how he had children with Rhaenyra was a mystery to him.

The feast went well, nothing happened, during it many people came up and asked him where he got the robes he was wearing. Y/n lied again saying it was just collected from the dragons when he was in King’s Landing, then explaining that the dragon skins were fake and made by seamstresses that he requested from his journey east. After a couple of hours, most of the guests have already started to leave. Y/n returned to his own chambers but he did not prepare to go to bed, but instead he put on his assassin clothing that had changed so no one would recognize him.

Sneaking out with the secret passageways, he made his way into the Dragon Pit again to look for parts. Luckily, there was a dragon that seemed to have died a while ago but no one noticed, it was a young dragon that had died to unknown causes. The dragon was alright in size, certainly big enough to collect the parts from and put them to good use.

Setting the bag he had brought with him to the side, he brought out a tool to start cutting away with the dragon’s parts. First came the inspecting to see if they were still worth something. 

“Eyes. Good enough to be reused, take those. Wings, big enough to develop fully if reborn into another. Horns and spikes…already decaying and too small to be of any use, leave those. Legs, strong and have potential to be fully grown with muscle and tissue. Skin and scales can be harvested for other uses. ” Y/n concluded after the inspection of the outside of the dragon, the organs and bones will have to wait until he cuts into it fully.

Taking out his tool, which was just a more powerful dagger, Y/n began to slice away at the different parts.

First it was the wings. Holding the wing still as he cut into the base of the bone, slicing through the bone like a hot knife through butter. At the end of the cutting it managed to get stuck, so Y/n pulled it off with his own strength, some of the skin came off with it. Then he did the same thing with the other wing, the second wing came off easier than the first one. The wings were in the bag so as to not get them dirty or lost.

Second was the legs, they took a bit more time but it was no problem. The legs came off just as easily, but it took a lot more effort to cut them through the bone as the back leg bones are formed to be stronger by default. Third was the eyes, they needed a bit more precision but nothing that Y/n has not done before. He just needed to be careful of some of the nerves, and then cut around and dismember the right ones and get it out with no other damage. 

Lastly, it was the skin and scales, it was basically skinning the dragon itself. The procedure required a bit more precision. He started at the wing area where the skin was already coming off, putting the dagger flatly under the hard skin and slicing through it making it come off easily. Piece by piece, the skin and scales along with it came off. Soon, the once dragon was now just a body of flesh, some of the bones in the body were now almost visible through the skin. The skull no longer held any resemblance to a dragon, other than the horns, the skull was completely stripped of its scales. The eye sockets hollow with nothing to fill it.

As Y/n cleaned up and put the parts he had cut into the bag he had brought with him, around the corner he heard a noise. Turning to see what had made such sounds, the corner of his eyes had caught a glimpse of silver-blonde hair in the dark. Taking the bag with him and swinging it over his shoulder, he turned the corner and saw a young prince. It was none other than the prince Aemond. 

“What. Are you doing here?” His words held slight venom, as his tone was annoyed that someone had found him doing his work.

“...” The prince did not dare speak, the violet eyes avoided the e/c ones that were narrowed and glaring burning holes into him.

“Speak!” This made Aemond flinch, but finally he managed to find his voice and speak out.

“I-I followed you here…and since it was the Dragon Pit I thought….” He trailed off. This only made Y/n even more annoyed. 

“What? What is it? You think I need protection? Is that it?” His glare did not stop but his voice had turned softer. 

Aemond could only stay quiet again, but really, he had nothing he could say anyway. 

“If that is the case then you have been proven wrong, as I am unharmed in front of your eyes. Now prince, let’s get you back to your chambers before someone finds you gone at this hour.” Y/n began to walk away and the young prince followed behind him.

Going through the same passageways that he came from, Y/n managed to sneak back to his rooms and without being noticed. Aemond however did not leave him alone, instead the young prince followed the older to his chambers instead. Y/n of course noticed this, but no matter how much he tried to get Aemond to go back to his room the younger continued to follow him, so he gave up in the end and let him follow him back. 

Once he got back, the bag was set on the ground as he opened it and reviewed what he gathered. That was when the young Targaryen spoke up about something.

“Why do you collect the parts of dragons?” Y/n’s movements stopped as turned around to look at Aemond. 

“Why do you need to know about that, young prince? And even if I told you, how would you take the information?” Y/n tilted his head in a playful way, as if teasing Aemond to speak again.

“I will not tell anyone of what you have done, what you do with the dragons will not be known.” Aemond said simply. 

The words were simple yes, but they also implied that Aemond might attempt to blackmail him if he did not tell him what he wanted to know. But Y/n knew better, behind the violet eyes that claimed to want nothing but to know what he was doing the dragon parts, there was something else there as well. A small glint of desire. Aemond wanted something from him. 

“Oh. I see. You want something from me.” Y/n paused for a second as he smiled. “And considering the fact that you have been eyeing the bag I have carried with me, you are interested in my work, no? Go ahead, tell me what you want. Then maybe I will not kill you for knowing my work.” Half of that was a lie, Y/n was not going to actually kill Aemond, just hurt him enough to make sure he never spilled.

“I..I want a dragon, I am the only one that is without a dragon…” Aemond’s voice became more soft, as if already becoming afraid; which was fair considering what he had seen that night already. 

Y/n let out a laugh as he heard the request, going back to the bag and looking over what he had collected. A smile made its way onto his face, perhaps this was a good thing for him after all. Maybe, he could be of use to him.

“A dragon you say? What do you think I do, young prince?” Playfulness laced within his voice.

Aemond took a breath before speaking. “I..I have heard the legend of what happens to a dragon when they die, they get collected by their creator and get remade…” He looked down, in his head to himself he sounded ridiculous to even believe such a legend.

“That. That legend is from the tales of Old Valyria, or rather, beyond that. Most Valyrians knew it, but it soon faded with time. You truly believe in this legend, Aemond?” He needed to know, not many believed in Y/n when he told them who actually was.

“Would it be weird if I say I did..?” 

Moving a hand to pet the top of Aemond’s hair, ruffling it slightly. His eyes softened, seeing the younger like this reminded him of himself a bit. “No, it’s not.” Getting down to Aemond’s level, his eyes shining through the darkness of the room. 

“Tell me. What do I get if I give you this dragon?”

Aemond’s eyes snapped up, realizing the older had accepted his request. “I will not tell anyone what you have done! A-and I will help you with collecting the parts…” He sounded unsure of that last one, but in the heat of the moment he said it anyway.

“You have a deal, prince. But, I do have my own conditions that you must agree to as well.” 

“Anything. Anything to have a dragon to myself!” Aemond replied eagerly. 

“I want your loyalty. Not only that, but I also want you to follow my orders. When I choose to leave Westeros, you will follow. I tell you to defy someone at court, your mother, your father, even your grandfather, you do it. If you can not agree to those, forget about the dragon.” Y/n listed his conditions clearly. 

“I…” Thinking it over, Aemond was not sure he had it in him to do such things. He stood by his mother throughout these years, his loyalty to his family was what he held onto. Now, can he really throw it all away just because he wants a dragon? 

“I do not have much time for you to think this over, if you truly want this dragon then I have to get to work immediately. The conditions in Westeros are not the same as back at my home, these dragon parts will begin to rot in three days' time. Seeing that these came from a dragon that died quite recently, which is odd but convenient nonetheless. So, do you agree to my terms or not?” Y/n was getting annoyed and somewhat irritated.

“Yes, I do.” 

Y/n held out his hand for Aemond to shake, and when the prince did, the deal was finally sealed. “Welcome to my family, Prince Aemond.” 

Over the next couple of days, other than his duties to the court, he would disappear to his rooms and work on the dragon. The body was completed first and then the skin and scales, the body was newly made with the parts that he collected. He brought parts with him back from his factory just in case. Using a special thread that had been the routine for hundreds of years, stitching the parts together on the new dragon body. Soon, the dragon itself was fully constructed. 

The second part was the egg, well, it really was no problem. The dragon egg that he got from Pentos, that is the egg he will use.

Cracking the egg open and taking out the dead dragon from within, then putting the new dragon inside. Finally, taking the broken pieces of the egg and sewing it back, the thread worked its magic to make it seem like nothing was ever out of place or broken.

The dragon egg along with the beast inside was finally complete, but now to give it to Aemond, which meant Viserys and Alicent needed to know that he finally got a dragon.

Walking to the king’s chambers and knocking on the doors gently, he was let in by Viserys saying ‘enter’ from the other side. 

“Your grace, I have come bearing a gift for your son.” Y/n stated, standing tall.

Viserys looked over from his model of Old Valyria, confusion and curiosity written all over. “For Aegon?” 

“No your grace, for Aemond.” Viserys nodded as he put down his tools that were sculpting a small model.

“What is a gift that you must come to me first and not give it straight to my son?” The king questioned.

“It is a rather important gift. I have heard that Prince Aemond is the only one without a dragon?” Y/n changed his tone as he acted like he did not know. Viserys nodded sadly, knowing this to be true.

Showing him the dragon egg, Viserys’ eyes widened slightly seeing such a present. “Where did you..get this?” 

“On my way back from my journey, I found one in the sands, buried. I picked it up to see if it would hatch when I brought it back to the Dragon Pit. It had been incubating for a few days, and showed good signs of hatching.” He paused for a second to catch his breath.

“So, I wish to give it to prince Aemond.” 

“This is a most wonderful gift! Thank you Y/n, I shall give it to him.” Viserys spoke with a full smile on his lips. The king took the egg with a smile.

Y/n left the room, as he did he heard Viserys tell one of his guards to go get Aemond. 

As night fell upon King’s Landing, Aemond went to look for Y/n in his chambers. He knocked and when heard the permission to come in he opened the doors, seeing Y/n on his bed and he seemed to be reading. 

“What is it that you need from me at this hour, Aemond? Can it not wait till to-morrow?” Y/n’s eyes did not move away from the text he was reading.

“I just came to thank you, my father gave me the dragon egg today. Even though I already knew it was you, I still could not help but be excited.” 

An unexpected smile came to Y/n’s lips. “As long as you do not go back on what you have promised me, you and your dragon will be safe under my protection.”

Aemond smiled in return.

Peace did not last forever. Another six years went by in the blink of an eye, and Aemond grew up and now has matured more than anyone else. He was taller than all of his siblings, and even just slightly over Y/n as well.

His dragon has also grown with him, the dragon whom he named Stormfury. The dragon had a grey colored body and had darker scales at his head, its wings were bigger and more powerful than the others. So big that he could not be kept in the Dragon Pit, instead it lived on the outskirts of the city.

Rhaenyra had returned to court and yet she left on the same night. Y/n could care less, there were less dragons dying so there was little to no work for him. But soon, things went from bad to worse.

Viserys passed away in his sleep, and the only people that knew were his small council and Alicent. The greens got Aegon on the throne, crowning him in front of the masses. Making sure everyone knew he was the new monarch. During the crowning, Aemond stood next to his sister, standing there and bowing slightly when Aegon looked towards him. 

Y/n watched on from the shadows, eyeing Aemond with a dark glint within his e/c eyes. He knew a war was brewing on the horizon, it was a matter of time the Dance of the Dragons started.

That night he had overheard that Aemond would go to Storm’s End and treat with Lord Baratheon, taking Stormfury and flying off. He did not return till the late morning of the next day. And when Aemond returned, the prince had a horrified look on his face. Something was definitely wrong.

Alicent and Otto were both discussing what he had done, Aemond said that he managed to get Lord Baratheon’s trust with a marriage pact. But then, he also explained something else that he had done.

“I..I killed Lucereys…” 

Both Alicent and Otto were taken back, Alicent turned away and had her hands to her face while Otto took the role of scolding him. 

“You have only lost one eye, how can you be so blind?” Otto scolded. Aemond looked down in shame. 

Y/n was listening in from the shadows in the corner, when he heard Aemond had done such a deed he stormed over to the prince enraged by his words. Grabbing the prince by his collar and pulling him in close, it seemed like Y/n just grew a lot taller. 

“You. Did. What.”

“I killed him…” Y/n could not deny that he was somewhat impressed that he still had the nerve to fully admit what he did to his face, knowing that this might not end well for him as seeing the assassin was already very mad.

“I gave you that dragon as I took pity, along with the very small kindness that I had that I did oblige to your request. And this is what you use it for? Killing your nephew? Are you blinded by your obsession with him that you had to kill him?” Y/n just raged at him, grabbing him by the shoulders and staring at his violet eye.

For the first time in Aemond’s life, the prince felt true terror through those eyes, he hated this feeling and yet he can not escape its gaze as he was forced to look through them. “Stormfury refused to listen to me..he just kept going..” His voice turned quiet and almost sounded ashamed. 

Y/n looked at Alicent and Otto for a second before looking back at Aemond and shaking his head. “The thought that the Targaryens control the dragons is an illusion. They are living breathing beings that have thoughts of their own. Not mindless weapons that you can bend to your will.” 

The two older Hightowers looked over the situation in concern but also in fascination, for they had no idea of what had happened between the two. Y/n turned to walk away and gestured for Aemond to follow, Alicent called for her son to stay but what she did not know was that her son was no longer hers.

“Aemond. You promised me, remember? Unless, you want your dragon gone.” The prince took one last look at his mother and grandfather, before turning away and walking out of sight.

Walking down the halls of the keep, Aemond had no idea where they were headed. “Pack your things. We are going to leave by nightfall.” 

This made Aemond stop in his tracks, he was not sure how he felt about that. To leave court, his family, his siblings. Y/n on the other hand could only laugh.

“Remember we made this deal the night you asked for that dragon, and when I listed my conditions you agreed. You can not go back on such a promise.” Leaning into Aemond’s ear he whispered. “Because you know what will happen if you defy me.”

Pulling away Y/n returned to his own rooms to pack up his belongings. Aemond stood still for a couple seconds before walking a different path, he had no choice but to leave with him.

 Y/n did not pack too much as it is like he would be back anytime soon, taking what he had packed which was just some clothes. By the time night fell he walked out of the Red Keep for most likely the last time. Getting into the wheelhouse he had ordered, and soon he arrived at the dragon pit. 

Vallath was landed somewhere hidden so he needed to go outside of the city walls to find him, but first he wanted to check on Aemond. And right on time, Aemond was already there with Stormfury. But then, Alicent was also there, it seemed that she was trying to get Aemond to rethink his decision of leaving.

“Aemond, let's go.” 

“Aemond! Wait!” Alicent cried out. “Please, rethink this. We need you here. Rhaenyra has gone to madness and will come after us. You will not be safe on your own!” 

“He is not on his own. He is going with me, he had already promised me long ago. Let’s go, Aemond.” Y/n stated sternly, not caring about Alicent’s opinions.

Both of them climbing onto Stormfury’s saddles as they soon took off, flying outside of the city walls, Y/n told Aemond to land just outside of a nearby forest. “Wait here. You will know when to follow again.”

Y/n walked into the masses of trees, nothing was heard but then a roar sounded through the forest as a dragon flew overhead. 

“Let’s go!” Y/n shouted from the back of Vallath. 

They both flew east, for days, maybe even a week before they landed. The clouds and mist parted for a grand building to appear, it looked to be a place that fell from the heavens and the stars themselves. Aemond looked at what was presented in front of him in awe, he was speechless, his mouth hanging open but his words melted away as he took in what he saw.

Their dragons landed in front of the gates, lowering their backs slightly letting their riders slide from their wings. With a flick of Y/n’s hand, the gates opened as the masked servants bowed at his arrival. Turning to look at Aemond, he was smiling with glee. 

“Welcome, to my world Aemond.”

Aemond followed the other male as they walked in, Aemond then saw the reality of how the dragons were really born. 

Broken pieces of shells collected into piles to be remade, different wings of all sizes were set up and held up in trays to be delivered to be made into something. Stacks of dragon skin and boxes of scales, the skin was in piles like fabric while the scales were like beads ready to be sewed on. Different dragon bodies that were just flesh at the moment shipping throughout the building, along with horns and spikes that were also being sent.

Y/n led them to his office, where he already had a pile of parchment he needed to get through. Setting down his bag, telling his servant to take it to his chambers. 

The Targaryen had a thousand questions running through his mind, but he just could not bring himself to ask them as if thinking they were inappropriate for the timing. Y/n beat him to it when speaking.

“You will work here, and stay with me. Unless, I ever choose to return back to Westeros then you can go back with me. Is that understood?” His tone was harsh like from years ago. 

Aemond nodded as he stood tall but his head was hung low. “Will I ever see my family again?” He finally got the courage to ask. 

“You will see them when we go back to Westeros, which I could only hope to find the time for as I have this work now that I have returned. Let us hope they will still be around when you go back, I can feel a storm brewing in Westeros. After you pull the stunt of kinslaying, well, it is not going to be pretty.” Y/n’s words came with a laugh from his throat.

A servant came into the room and bowed to their lord, waiting for orders as they have been called for moments prior. Y/n noticed this of course.

“Get him into work attire, train him, teach him to do every station of work.” Y/n gestured to Aemond. “Once he knows what he is doing, he is my assistant and right hand. Now go.” The former prince went with the masked servant to get to work, leaving the lord of the factory to himself as he sorted the parchment. 

“Welcome to my bloodline, Aemond. This is where the Targaryens think they got their power from.”

[klausysworld]

Hello, I read your Klaus in his wolf form stories and really liked them. It gave me this idea that when Klaus broke the curse and turned into a wolf, rather than falling in love with a human, he fell in with a wolf. Though he doesn't know it, the wolf is immortal, like existed from the dawn of time, and the wolf was the cause of werewolves, like if she bites you, then you would be a werewolf. Klaus wouldn't know that or that she, the wolf, was there when he was a kid, and he called her a pet. This part I just thought of, but what if Klaus was Mikael's kid but just got bit but didn't know. I was wondering if you could right this, I am cool if you don't, though. Thank you for even reading this.

My queen

PT2

(Present day)

I watch silently through the trees as his bones snap, as he scream in both pain and pride of his accomplishment.

The pain of the turn was one part I don’t appreciate about the gift i have given to those i had chosen.

But he embraces the pain, he doesn’t go through so much struggle as he allows the power to fly through him, he embraces the wolf.

And a stunning wolf he is.

His coat thick and eyes dark. A midnight wolf, his fur looking almost a shade of the darkest blues as the light of the moon shines over him.

I turn my head to see his brother, Elijah, he watches cautiously as Niklaus nears him. The threatening growl he gives him as the sticks snap and the leaves crunch beneath his paws. He’s experiencing the inner conflict, the urge to give into his instincts to attack the vampire.

I took a few steps forward emerging from behind the bark of the wood that hid me before. I made sure to step on enough sticks to make a ‘crack’.

Both originals looked to me, both wide eyed and confused. Niklaus took five large strides to stand before me, his nose almost touching mine as he bared his teeth in warning.

I huff at him in disappointment, you would have thought he’d recognise me. I’ve been present for many moments of his life, his childhood especially though i suppose a thousand years will have him forget.

I step back from him before circling his body. He stands tall and strong, a mighty wolf.

Through the years my bite has began to carry through blood. What once was only given through the power of my bite is now becoming more frequent through genetics. But not Niklaus, he was my own, i have him his power all that time ago. It was a dream for us both that he managed to bring this side of him back, his mother and father locked it away claiming it a curse rather than a gift. Simply because it gave him an advantage they could never provide.

———————————————————————

(A thousand years ago…ish)

I lowered my head slowly allowing the young boy to place a flower crown to my head. I glanced back up to see his bright smile as he adjusted it.

“There, now you’re a queen” he said taking a small step back. I gave a small bark in response, my tail wagging subconsciously as he pet my face, his hands smoothing the fur back so i was less poofy.

“I must leave, my father wanted me to learn to hunt…he wouldn’t like me playing with the wolves, he says you’re to be killed because…well because you’re dangerous but I think you’re lovely, I won’t let him kill you” he promised as his little arms hung loosely around my neck and i licked his arm.

———————————————————————

(A few years later)

Niklaus grew to be a rather handsome young man. He was relatively strong and well mannered. He was a free spirit and spent his time within the forest with his berries that he had ground up to create colours where he would spread them over rocks and large leaves to make an image.

He wasn’t the best at hunting with an arrow but was excellent with a sword.

And so i would often kill the deers or rabbits for him, give them to him so that his father couldn’t harm him, so that his family remained proud…and so that he continued his visits to me in the woodlands.

(On another occasion)

“My queen?” He called softly into the cold air of the night. I lifted my head from the ground of the opening a tree i laid in. I stood quickly and made my way out to find a battered Niklaus. My legs moved fast to reach him as he collapsed to the ground, he clothes soaked in his own blood and face covered in shades or blue and purple.

I let out a high whine and a long howl, the other wolves i had created came running at my call to assist. They helped me clean him. The magic through my veins allowed me to lick his wounds until they healed, until he no longer weeped and sobbed, until the pain was relieved and he fell asleep with his hands clutching my fur.

I knew then that he needed the power of the wolf more than anyone. To begin with i feared that it would only cause him more damage, more shame to his parents but those people-monsters would never stop their beating and this was the best way to protect him.

And so with his body safely tucked to mine, i ran my tongue over the space between his shoulder and neck. I gently let my teeth sink into his skin, feeling my power grow as i fed more of it into the world.

No matter what other magic or pain he suffered, the wolf would save him.

His mother cursing him to have it locked away was one of the worst things possible to happen to a gift given wolf. To be stripped of who you were, before he could even experience it.

———————————————————————

(Present day)

I made a sound closely replicating a growl but too soft to be threatening to urge him to follow me as i begin to walk through the woods.

I can hear as his paws meet the ground faster and faster as we fall into a fast pace, running quick and with purpose as he chases me as fast as his body will let him. I can sense his frustration not being able to keep up with me, his growl in desperation as he throws himself forward, tackling me to the ground roughly.

We both tumble through the woods, rolling down threw the forest. He yelped as i bit his scruff pulling him with me. A tanglement of limbs rushing through the trees as both of us scrambled to gain any sort of balance.

Eventually i managed to get up on my feet, i turned to sprint again but i heard his whine, such a familiar cry, a reminder of his suffering from his late teens into adulthood.

I froze in stride turning to check on him, his body was low to the ground as he got ready to pounce. Relief floods me knowing he isn't harmed and before i can thimk about hisnplayful stance, he's already lauching himself at me.

His body collided with mine pushing me onto my back and his teeth around my throat. The position should be threatening and i should be fearfully submitting but he seems to have forgotton I'm the reason he holds his strength.

I pushed up from the floor and on top of him. My fave directing above his as my paw pressed down on his neck, claws puncturing the flesh making him whimper. I don’t like to be the cause of his pain but his dominance was an issue, he had grown far more narcissistic over the years compared to his selfless younger form.

After another minute or so of his pitiful attempts to push himself up and get me off of him, he gave in. His head tilting back to offer me his neck as his eyes looked to the ground in what i assume to be shame. I stepped back letting him stand again, the question of ‘why?’ In his eyes as he looked at me cautiously.

I nodded my head for him to follow me, we continued to run throughout the night and i watched the surprise in his eyes as we both woke the next morning still in wolf form, the day after the full moon.

And the day after that too when we hunted and he made his own display of human bodies. I had indulged with him for a few hours but eventually grew bored and waited for him to finish. His aggression was something i was still unused to, i forever missed the gentle touch as his face brightened and he weaved plants together to create a crown.

I found him on a number of occasions patiently waiting by my den, as soon as i arrived he was on his feet and ready to run to the falls, often pushing his luck to see if he could push me into the water which would always end up with him being dragged in too and us both having a water war for hours on end.

A moment I cannot forget is when his mother came into town, an attempt to kill her children but she chose the woods to do so and i could sense his fear.

But when i arrived and broke through her magical barrier, recognition spread through her face as she stepped back

“No…it can’t be” she uttered looking from me to Niklaus

“After all these years you still protect him?” She murmured but i didn’t allow her many more words before launching at her, Finn dragged her away after I mauled her.

I reluctantly looked to Niklaus seeing his eyes soft and lips parted, only two words whispered before i dashed back off to the forest

“My queen”

[shiny-jr]

Congratulations on 5000 followers, that's such an amazing milestone <33

For your event, if you don't mind, could I please ask for the prompt HOLLOW - "Without you, I am nothing. I am empty" with Malleus Draconia

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Prompt: Hollow. "Without you, I am nothing. I am empty."

– Character: Malleus Draconia.

– Note: First prompt! I originally didn't plan for it to be this long, but I kinda got carried away when writing. Oh well, it is what it is. Thanks though! Here's your large order of dragon fae content.

In a way, it was pathetic. He was the fae prince, heir to the throne of the valley and named on the list as one of the top magicians in the world without even trying. People fell to their knees in either fear or reverence in front of him, the mere mention of his name was enough to make the ordinary folk tremble, he had enough power to summon destructive storms unconsciously with just his mood. The list of his strengths was as long as the years he lived, he surpassed everyone not only in skills and power but also in age. As a fae, he would live much longer than the majority human population could even imagine.

Despite all this, despite his status, his might, his intelligence, and the abundance of wealth he had, he was alone. Those he did have were far and few inbetween, just enough to count on one hand. On his thumb, his grandmother, the queen; on his pointer finger, Lilia, his caretaker and oldest retainer. Those two were with him since the beginning, for the first hundred years of his life. The rest were only recent additions. On his middle finger and index finger were his newest retainers in training: Lilia’s adopted human son, Silver, and the son of a long time fae lineage loyal to the Draconia family, Sebek. Finally, on his pinky, was the newest addition, a human he met only months ago. Yet months were like a blink of the eye to him, human lives were like flames on a candle, burning brightly and flickering out abruptly and in the next instant. This human must’ve had the brightest candle of all with the most captivating warmth and light, because he was always lured toward them, just like a month to a flame. The reason he thought it pathetic, was because someone like him was reduced to nothing by a mere human. It was much like the most fearsome and mightiest of dragons submitting to the smallest mouse.

And yet, no matter whether he continued to believe it to be pathetic, or he didn’t care, or he actually enjoyed it, there was one fact constantly lingering in the back of his mind: mortality. Fae would always outlive humans, he’s outlived more humans than he could count. And it scared him. When his dear human friend’s candle finally extinguishes one day, what then? Just the thought causes him to lose his composure. He refuses to go back to being alone, back to a life of darkness and despair. Just one taste of the light was enough to make him never want to return to how things used to be, and he would long for that light from them for as long as he lived. Still, the fact remained, what would he do when the flame is at risk of being extinguished? He wasn’t sure if he could handle the grief when that day would eventually come, because the truth was: Malleus depended on his human. This human he held close to his heart was his world, his treasure, and without them he was nothing. He was empty. Would he snap and destroy everything in his vicinity, reducing it all to rubble and ash? Would he isolate himself once more and spend his every waking hours searching for that familiar warmth and light? When he did dream and succumb to the cold darkness, he was sure that his dear human would haunt his dreams too. Now during his lifetime, he had heard of theories and stories of reincarnation. If this held true, he could search for his dear human and reunite with them, but he was certain that even the short time separated with only grief and desperation left would drive him insane. 

[bellamby]

I saw Transformers One. I am so normal about it (SPOILERS AHEAD)

(Some OC doodles to hide the spoilers! If you have a cool name for her, lemme know ^^)

Honest Review: 9/10

I went in with high expectations and I was not disappointed. The best summary I can think of is that this movie is truly a love letter to the fans.

I could rant for days, but I'm gonna break it down into sections so I don't talk myself in circles ^^

Story:

The story focusing on how the war began was such a good move on the writers' part! It showed a version of Cybertron that I haven't really seen in other Transformers films, and the setting was incredibly explored.

When it comes to the origins of Cybertron and the whole "Primus/Unicron" battle, I think it was well explained considering the limited time they have in the movie.

Overall, a well-paced and actually interesting NON-HUMAN-FOCUSED story, but I will agree with others that I just wish the movie had more time to explain some things. That's basically my only complaint: the movie wasn't long enough 😭

Art:

The animation style is gorgeous, and really takes inspiration from that Retro/VHS style and colours and merges them with a shiny modern look. It took a good chunk of inspiration from the 80s vibes and I think that really showed how much care was put into it.

When it comes to the designs, I freaking LOVE the way we see them level up throughout the movie!

Characters:

Orion Pax/OP = I loved him. I will love him in every continuity, but this one especially, showing him with all his flaws and then how he rises above them for what he believes. His relationship with D-16 was so well built up, and to see it torn down so harshly as the movie went on was the level of brutal I was expecting.

The scene where he finally gets the Matrix of Leadership was SO well done. My hype for Solus Prime will never die.

D-16 = He needs a hug so badly. He's the classic tale of "Never meet your heroes". To see him shift from "I made peace with my misery, why did you have to ruin it?" To "I'm going to destroy the people who made me this way" was such a painful thing to watch. But I can't even be mad because this is literally what Megatron's whole story is about.

His origin will almost always come from a point of seeing injustice and wanting to rise against it, and they showed the lengths he'd go to really well here.

Elita One = MY QUEEN. I will follow this woman into battle any day of the week (and so would Shockwave). I feel like there was a point where she was mainly just regarded as "Orion/Optimus' GF", but they really separated her from that stereotype in this. She's not just "pink Orion Pax", she's a character in her own right.

Seeing Orion have to earn her respect helped show just why the two hold each other in high regard. I hope we get to see more of her as a Commander in the sequel!

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE = MY PRECIOUS BOY. Okay, there was a point in the trailer where I was really worried he was going to just be the comic relief character who makes a joke every time something serious is happening, but instead he's an awkward bot who means well. He doesn't always get it right, but he also doesn't actively mess things up for the group.

Bumblebee's wholesomeness was so well captured especially the part where he's like "Orion Orion! Watch me cut these guys in half!" While the guys in question are literally running away in fear. He's so cute, I can't. I am going to fight D-16 if he's actually the one who tears out his voicebox, I swear to Primus.

Can you tell who my favourite is? ^^

Favourite details:

- Starscream's high-pitched voice origin. The second he started sounding like that I was like "OHHHHH, MEGS DID THAT?!?!"

- "I'm...speechless" BEEEEE STAAAAWWP

- Alpha Trion's "ROAR" era.

- Sentinel's Death. I love that we can get away with gore in PG films when it comes to robots. Man literally got snapped in half like a KitKat, and the age rating people were like "...yeah, 5-year-olds can watch this"

- Origins of the Decepticon symbol being from Megatronus. Before, I just headcanonned Megs sitting over a desk with several balled up bits of paper trying to come up with a super cool symbol to show his Ex that he'd moved on (he hasn't)

- Chromia's little moment of rage when she won the Iacon 5000. Not enough people talk about Chromia, but I love how Ironhide matches her wild, slightly-unhinged energy.

Conclusion: Hasbro, more movie, please

I NEED to know where this goes. This movie is such a fresh change of pace from all the hesitation and back and forth in recent years. There have been so many different series and continuities starting up that it seems Hasbro is unsure of which one will stick, but this is my plea to them:

YOU HAVE STRUCK ENERGON, HERE, DO NOT WASTE IT

We're getting a sequel either way, but it's up to Hasbro whether that's written by them or by a hero on AO3 or Fanfiction.net

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I have several nights of crying to do now.

[dalekofchaos]

Saw concept art for Frozen and I am dumbstruck. We had this beautiful artistical whimsical concept of what Frozen could've been

And Disney went "nah let's have generic 3D face lift from Tangled"

Disney let your animators actually have fun and do something creative.

I get wanting to change the story for a story about sister, but they could've had a balance of the original Snow Queen fairy tale and the Frozen we got.

They could've still done the sisters story. The abusive cunts Agnarr and Iduna could've been more explicitly abusive, Elsa's powers turn her into the Snow Queen in the concept art and Elsa snaps and the and kills them. Anna is raised to forget about Elsa while her power hungry advisors are just using Anna as a figurehead until they can force an arranged marriage with Hans and Elsa is there to break Anna, but Anna is there to melt away Elsa's frozen heart.

Like come on, we could've had a better movie. Evil Elsa and Elsademption and just a wonderful artistic animated movie instead of the generic cookie cutter crap we got.

[hitlikehammers]

you definitely need a 💐LADY WHISTLEDOWN REVEAL💐 for Steddie to follow up on the ✨Morning After✨ the Carriage, don't you???

Regency/Bridgerton AU

once last time: for @hbyrde36, @pearynice, and @penny00dreadful 💜

For perhaps the first time in his life, Eddie is at a loss for his words.

Possibly, it is because there are no words. None that he knows, at the least, and he knows a great deal of them—too many for his own good, according to some.

Though—possibly—it is because his heart is pounding so violently, somehow in his chest and in his throat all at once, that the breath for words at all is lost on him, and if it weren’t, the words would end up pummeled somewhere on the way out his mouth anyway.

Double-edged sword, really.

It is in true Edward Munson form, the way it comes out in the end, the way he confesses without truly confessing. It’s been a growing pit in this stomach, despite the glorious splendor of the past weeks leading up to their nuptials—nuptials!—and the Queen’s renewed obsession weighs, true, though she’s off the scent for now. But when Eddie’s father drove his family to ruin, and his uncle gave up freedom in the Highlands to enter back into society, to house his mother and his own half-fear-made-feral self before the age of seven, to make the Munson name respectable again, not least for spending most of his worth on the property across from the storied Harringtons—but then there was the one specific boy of the family, about Eddie’s own age, who had to come to the Munson’s every day for a month, almost certainly against the wishes of anyone who stood to reign him back and failed, an entire month before Eddie would so much as kick the dirt between them, let alone dare for eye contact.

Which is to say: Eddie started the strongest and dearest relationship of his life with cowardice, without even knowing yet that Steve Harrington wasn’t built to back down from a challenge for the life of him, despite the scars he bore for his stubborn virtue.

It wouldn’t really be true to Eddie’s own well-worn character, now, if he were brave about any of this.

Which is how he ends up slinking to Steve, who is sprawled comfortably on the settee with a book, before dropping a thick, twine-bound collection of pamphlets, years of publications that fall on Steve’s chest dramatically, though Eddie can’t even claim to have planned it so: he’s simply shaking too much to have handed over the evidence poised to damn him with anything like composure.

He trembles even as he stands taut, spine too stiff and shoulders too sharp, hands clasped behind him as Steve sits up, eyes the bundle curiously, unties it carefully and…reads Eddie’s last rites in his own pen because the dawning of clarity isn’t slow: what the papers are is crystalline.

That these are original drafts, in Eddie’s pen, is even more undeniable upon finishing just the first column: Eddie’s writing pen was a gift from Steve early in their years, and he’s never parted with it—too attached, too sentimental—not least when it started to show its age, blotted messy at the ends of lines, especially on a damning ‘s’ at the stop of a sentence.

So many sentences; to spell out his own.

Steve is quiet, as he thumbs through a few more issues: but it’s clear the perusal’s unnecessary. Likely meant just to buy time. Eddie feels an ache in his chest that he can’t place a name to; feels a burning on the ring finger of his left hand that he holds too tight: fearful. Afraid the minutes are numbered, now, before he loses the promise there forever.

But he could not have beared to trap Steve into marriage under the pretense of a lie. He may have already done damage irreparable but, but—

Whatever he can still salvage, for Steve if not himself: he has to try.

“So.”

Eddie’s attention snaps back into the moment as soon as he hears Steve’s voice; startles at the weight of the pamphlets falling atop the table to hand at his side.

Eddie feels Steve’s eyes upon him but…hells beyond if he can lift his own to meet them.

He’s a boy kicking at dirt all over again.

“So,” Eddie breathes; barely. His sentence, his sentence, and all the loss undoubtedly to follow with, and—

He’s too far in his own mind, in his own pulse too heavy to have noticed the approach of anything, even his beloved, until his beloved’s hands are framing his face, those sunrise eyes steady on him. Warm.

Still love there, in them. For him.

“Thank you,” Steve lets his thumbs roam Eddie’s cheekbones; stretch to the line of his jaw where it starts: “for finally trusting me.”

Eddie’s comprehension of time grinds to a halt; he thinks his pulse takes the brunt for how it stalls-still from its racing.

It takes him at least three tries to make a noise from his throat, and even then it’s mostly just a sound, rather than any words to comprehend:

“I,” he manages more as a squeak that he follows with a cough, which does little to clear his voice but a great deal to jostle his heart back to pounding as he flounders:

“I’m sorry?”

And Steve’s brows furrow, but only for an instant; an instant is all it takes to read Eddie top to toe and then soften, to use his hands to pull Eddie close for a chaste kiss that still holds so much:

“Oh, angel,” Steve breathes between their lips as Eddie feels the tremors still tight-wound through his person threaten to break him, to widen the cracks he is composed of wholly, now, and shatter him to bits, but then there is Steve, and Steve is holding to him, and then he’s…he’s speaking incomprehensible words that take too long to even begin making sense:

“You could not have imagined that I didn’t know?”

Eddie’s silence is the only necessary answer, and then Steve’s eyes are widening in shock alongside something close to horror.

“Oh, oh, come here,” the realization in the words is so tender, and honest, and Steve flutters his hands a little in his haste to lead Eddie to sit, to press against Steve’s body so he can melt into Steve's solid hold. And Steve presses his lips to Eddie’s temple, almost aggrieved and unbearably gentle, but the note of incredulity is undeniable as he asks soft, a low rumble through his chest, close under Eddie’s ear:

“Were you so anxious, my darling?”

Eddie doesn’t know what sound he makes, if he makes any at all—he did not anticipate this, he did not anticipate anything like this at all and so he likewise has no idea how it means to progress from here; his pulse feels all the more precarious as it hangs in a balance he cannot predict—but whatever comes from him, sound or some other indication only Steve can see and sense, he is being wrapped tighter, closer, cradled into the soft shirt, mostly unbuttoned to soft tufts of hair across Steve’s broad chest.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes against the top of Eddie’s head, laces their fingers together to kiss before dragging them to better secure Eddie against him, holding their twined hands to his ocean-deep pulse:

“We are family,” Steve murmurs with a certainty that shakes in Eddie’s bones—irrefutable. ���Always have been, really,” he adds, a little rueful; “and soon by law and name, but your passions are my passions,” and he squeezes Eddie’s hand once in perfect time for both their unmatched heartbeats, finds the hidden moment where Eddie’s still-sprinting blood matches Steve’s steady drumbeat and somehow the surety, the intimate certitude in that peerless moment holds like a palm soft to Eddie’s frantic heart itself that cradles him, inside and out; talks him down from fears of unknown reprisals.

“Your struggles are my struggles, to remedy immediately,” Steve kisses at Eddie’s curls like a promise, more a vow; “your triumphs are mine to hold close and celebrate in full with you, for you.”

Eddie feels his cheeks heat, but only as a precursor to the warmth the floods the whole of him as Steve adds, even more like true vows against Eddie’s own soul:

“Nothing you could ever do or be would make you less the whole of my heart,” Steve cradles him dear, caresses along his jaw; “certainly never something like this.”

Eddie’s heart throbs heady, surges and expands and he has to focus on breathing a bit more, for a few long seconds, because to be told that, to be touched like this, to be loved this way—

“How,” Eddie has to clear his throat to be heard and still his voice lands thready:

“How did you find out?”

And Eddie isn’t truly ever surprised by how he loves Steve in turn, he doesn’t remember what it feels like to breathe as less, but: Eddie will never not love, in an especially giddy way, how Steve lights up in something a little wily, here, a little mischievous, and now how it’s spiraled along with a glistening adoration that tingles through Eddie with every tap of his pulse.

“First,” Steve cranes his neck to grin lopsided Eddie’s way; “Whistledown was always among the cleverest minds in the ton,” and Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand in his as he peppers kisses along the crown of Eddie’s head, wholly unprompted, just because he can before he concludes with a sweet little shrug:

“There are perhaps only three people in the requisite radius who fit the terms, and two are my own sisters.”

Eddie cannot—does not want to—contest that point. It isn’t wrong, but more than even that: he’s honored to be counted alongside Lady Nancy and Miss Robin, equally formidable in unique—and therefore frighteningly complementary—ways.

But he does fear his fortunes to come, should they not be as forgiving as it seems their brother is—against all odds, though Eddie should never have doubted his beloved just because his own conscience ached; Steve is stalwart and steadfast, and Eddie’s heart has never rested safer.

He will come to know that in the very veins of him, with time. He’s certain.

They both will; Eddie knows it.

“Second,” Steve’s adding on, stroking their still-clasped hands up and down his own chest; “the way it’s written,” and then he’s lifting those hands to kiss again, his smile a tangible thing to feel, and a swift beam of relief to loosen lingering tensions in Eddie’s muscles:

“I may have been blind to precisely how you’ve lived within my heart up until these past weeks,” Steve returns their hands to his chest again and presses in emphasis on the beating he speaks of, the home Eddie feels safest in, now he knows he’s welcome wholly; “utterly spectacular weeks, weeks I could never have imagined,” Steve hums, then grows a touch more serious as he murmurs:

“But you’ve lived in my heart near all my life, Eds,” Steve says simply, then smiles to answer back to the question asked of him:

“The flourish in your theatrics is telling, beloved,” Steve speaks it like an open secret, and something he rejoices in. “Perhaps not to the masses, only because you did not advertise them to their fullest extent for as many years as I’ve been…” he worries his lip endearingly through a losing fight against a grin:

“Privileged enough to experience them in their entirety. To experience you,” and Steve leans to snag a kiss quick before smiling full: “in your entirety.”

Eddie bumps his shoulder against Steve’s in indignation, earning first a yelp and then a hearty chuckle as he protests with very little fire in it, too much soft-sweet joy rising in him now for the ever-more-pressing proof that he is accepted, that his work, his creative purists change little, maybe nothing between them, save that Steve said…

Steve said he would celebrate him. As if Eddie were someone to be proud of.

“You’ve chided and shrugged me off for it, for all my wild theatrics—“ Eddie cuts off the spike of emotion threatening to well in his eyes with wholly put-upon affront as Steve ducks his chin to kiss sloppy, playful, just short of Eddie’s cheek, a little farther back as he defends:

“Lovingly, darling,” and there is humor, ready and easy between them but there is truth, more solid, the bedrock of any other thing:

“No matter the kind of love,” Steve nuzzles him fondly, no—no, it’s so much more than fond:

“Always lovingly.”

And what is Eddie to do in the face of that, save but to sigh against Steve’s chest where he’s held, still; to nuzzle there a little in kind and if the steady lulling of the motion matches Steve’s heartbeat within moments, well: who is Eddie to protest the song that his whole world moves in time with?

“But third, my dearest,” and here Steve’s voice deepens, then lightens to a whisper as he breathes against Eddie’s curls:

“Robin knew.”

Eddie stills. And then he shoots up and braces himself over Steve with eyes wide enough to water as he gasps:

“No,” he barely mouths because, because yes Robin knew, or Eddie suspected—her interest in his dealings with the printer was too sharp, too pinpointed before it died off entirely. Which could have meant she found better distraction, but: she hadn’t.

Which meant: she’d almost certainly fulfilled the curiosity she’d already chased.

But no one had spoken, not a single person had come even in confidence to accuse—

“Oh yes,” Steve sighs gravely but there’s a smirk in it; he teases; “I was the only one she told, I do know that, but.” And Steve shrugs, shakes his head before he lets out a harsh whoosh of air as Eddie falls back upon his chest—at least now they can match, the wind knocked out of them both.

“Of course the possibility alone was always a gamble,” Eddie eventually concedes, draped over Steve once more—a little defeated, though he can’t quite put a finger on why. “I simply…presumed you’d have spoken if she’d,” he gestures aimlessly; “shared her knowledge.”

He doesn’t expect the response to come in the form of a sharp cackle, of Steve easing them both to sitting, but somehow still tangled up and pressed together tight.

“I’m not so proud as not to own fully that I am a terrible gossip,” Steve says without a shred of shame for it, and it is true, Eddie may well have learned his own lack of shame in the enterprise from the man held against him in the first place.

“It brings too much joy, why would I spoil the fun? For anyone, least of all for you,” he asks honestly, which is maybe shortsighted; Eddie knows he’s caused strife with his pen, but he’s never told falsehoods, and he’s never sought to ruin anyone who didn’t cause ruin thrice-fold first.

“I’d have helped you write it in an instant, if you’d wished,” Steve says, almost wistful, the last thing Eddie expected when he entered the room, his shaking hands full of damning evidence; “though of course you never needed my help.”

“I’d have wanted it,” Eddie is immediate to affirm despite his surprise, because his adamance is stronger; because any moments spent with Steve, now or then, before or since becoming what they are, have never been less than a privilege and a delight; “a couple’s activity, far more appealing than the promenade,” Eddie huffs a laugh, still a touch incredulous for how this all is playing out before him, still a little bewildered that his anxious, whirring thoughts and heavy heart were for nothing at all.

He trusts Steve unreservedly, but, surely, surely there is something…

“If I were to continue,” Eddie nudges, hedges with perhaps quite foolish daring; “you would not mind?”

But it isn’t even a surprise when Steve simply leans against Eddie and draws him sideways toward his chest, breathes gentle into Eddie’s hair and kisses his head as he reaches to play with his fingers, to spin his engagement ring.

“Darling, even if I thought it dull as bricks,” and Steve speaks it with such, such warmth; “it brings you joy. And that is my joy.”

And Eddie’s heart soars for the…for the knowledge that this is his life. That this will be his life: forevermore.

He leans to kiss Steve whole and full, and he’s met as passionately, as ravenously, until they soften to gentle pecks, back and further.

“Together then, I think,” Eddie declares, their lips still close so the words drag between their mouths, breathy with devotion; a new flavor of commitment as Steve’s eyes rake over him, widen first to then shine blinding:

“Truly?”

“Every soul deserves its desired secrets,” Eddie reaches to trace Steve’s jawline; to marvel because he doesn’t think he’ll ever see fit to stop; “but there is no part of me that I desire to keep secret from you.”

Steve smiles at him a little longer, before he reaches around Eddie and grabs below the stack of issues—Eddie’d balanced it all on his folio, with the blank sheets and his beloved pen.

“May I?” Steve lifts the case less than halfway sheepish, more than halfway impish; “I think you need a bit of a sendoff.”

Eddie blinks, largely adrift save for Steve’s heat so near to him: anchoring.

“Where am I going?” he asks, bewildered even as Steve's smile grows wider still.

“Wedded bliss in perpetuity is the hope,” Steve presses his lips firm and fast to the left corner of Eddie’s mouth; “but in practical terms?” and then he kisses just the same at the corner on the right before he stands to make toward his desk:

“Quite soon, our honeymoon.”

And oh: but they haven’t spoken overmuch about such a thing but, but…

They’ll be married, and then they’ll be free to…be. Together and in love and wherever and however they wish, as long as they wish it—they get to be husbands and revel in it, wanton and cow-eyed and blissfully besotted.

Eddie must spend long seconds daydreaming—wholly justified, he would note most heartily—because he comes back to himself in the moment, next to Steve where he’s seated again, tapping Eddie’s thigh with the stiff parchment he’s covered in his endearing looping script waiting for Eddie’s attention, which, of course he gives in an instant and oh:

Most Dear and Gentle Reader,

All good things come to their ends, or else their pauses, their crossways and forks in the road. And whichever this communiqué ultimately lands upon happily, my farewell to you now comes on the wings of pure delight: to announce the end of the season with love, with the culmination of a tumultuous journey where not every player walked at the same pace, but one that was nonetheless undertaken together, unreservedly, and met hand-in-hand at the turn of its tale to new chapters. New journeys to seek and embark upon with joy.

I admit my attentions have been distracted of late, so you must forgive what comings and goings I may have missed in the interim. Nevertheless, I think none have slipped my notice so monumental, and indeed relevant to prior missives, as the dramatic and dearly heartwarming culmination of the tale of one of our most scandalous subjects of inquiry, not least because he has not always relished the attention: here, though, he might see the end of his delightfully roguish absurdity, but may our loss be his gain, as it is most certainly his husband-to-be’s.

To wit: Sir Edward Munson has done the honor of pledging the pleasure and privilege of his unmatched mind, his unreserved compassion, his unequaled wit, his inimitable fortitude, his most miraculously peerless heart, and the indescribable joy he brings by merely breathing in proximity, to one Lord Steven Harrington: a man not wholly deserving, but forever committed to the pursuit of earning all of the above, and worshiping with gratitude his beloved, as is only right and proper when one is blessed so thoroughly.

The very sort of happy ending we rarely see played out in these pages to such heartwarming conclusion—for we may seek scandal, but we none of us can deny the unparalleled appeal when matters of true love rise to the fore. And triumph magnificently.

But do not despair in my absence, however long it proves to stretch—there is pleasure in the pathless woods, after all. Journey well, dearest gentle readers, in the whiling.

x 

Eddie swallows hard upon the final words landing, settling in his chest.

How on earth did he get here? How in god’s name can he possibly deserve…this? All this?

With this impossible gift of a man, he—

“So?” and Steve’s tone is just slightly anxious, and oh. Oh, none of that.

Eddie tosses the spectacular, unthinkably praise-filled draft to the table and grabs Steve’s chin, tilts his face up to kiss him, long and hard and deep until they’re both gasping.

“You astound me endlessly,” Eddie breathes, settling his brow to Steve’s as he nearly breaks his face, he feels, for smiling so wide, in such wonder.

“Didn’t think I had it in me?” Steve smirks a little, but nips at Eddie’s lips all the while, and it’s thrilling beyond reason.

“I think you’re capable of just about anything,” Eddie says honestly, caught up in the feeling of it soaking through his ribs.

“Sap,” Steve laughs, but it’s a nearly giddy sort of thing before his tone softens, silken almost, as he bumps the tips of his nose against the side of Eddie’s own; “I had a good teacher.”

“Who in your family reads romance?” Eddie asks, frowning to deduce. Possibly the little ones outside their mother’s notice but—

He’s interrupted in the work of it by a gentle smack to his shoulder.

“The columns, you delightful knob,” Steve rolls his eyes at him, and Eddie’s too buoyant, too effervescent with joys innumerable that he cannot help but lean, nip at Steve’s lower lip and tease back:

“You do delight almost voraciously in my kn—“

He earns himself another smack to the shoulder, and a delightful flush to Steve’s cheeks, and Eddie laughs deep in his chest, his cares of no consequence; invisible really.

“Could you possibly think I didn’t read every single issue once I knew they were yours?” Steve asks, more chiding than anything, like he takes a genuinely dim view to Eddie thinking otherwise; and now Eddie must revise his position—his cares are of no consequence, here, save one:

To worship this man, with all that he is, with every moment life sees fit to grant him, and never to cease, only to grow.

“I love you so,” Eddie mouths against Steve’s skin; “so much more than I know how to say—”

“I know it though,” Steve says with clarity, with confidence; “I know it,” and he reaches to trace Eddie’s lips as he asks, less out of doubt and more to confirm, to swell with what it means to be sure: “just as you know it?”

“I do,” Eddie whispers, and he feels it, the swelling of certainty, of loving beyond words and yet being wholly sure of their weight.

“You quoted Byron,” Eddie runs the tip of his nose along Steve’s jaw, awestruck.

“I listen when you talk,” Steve answers simply; “always have,” which pings exquisite chords in Eddie’s chest, his heart dancing steps it’s never learned, save in loving the man beside him.

“And it felt appropriate. Bookending an era, one might say,” because of course Eddie began with such words, and, he, it, this…

It is perfection. It is so far beyond the realms of what he has earned or deserved and yet—

“Have I upset you?” Steve’s voice breaks in, only a touch of hesitation; “should I apologize for so thoroughly shocking you?”

“Never,” Eddie cups his cheek and draws him in to prove it.

“I love finding out new things about you,” he adds warmly, breathless when they part, warmer still for the heaving of Steve’s chest against his own.

Steve himself takes a moment to catch back his breath before he raises a brow in askance. Eddie, less the athletic type, is still this-side of breathless but: perhaps it is better that way. More reflective of the way his chest seizes while it keeps at stretching him wider, wider, wider still to hold his ever-swelling heart.

“To know that the adventure of learning you, is not only the adventure of a lifetime, but an adventure for a lifetime,” Eddie wonders at him, confesses the core of his deepest heart with joy and pride and abandon as he holds Steve’s face dear between his hands:

“Words fail that privilege, my dearest.”

Steve leans into his touch, and runs his hands up from Eddie’s chest, pressing possessive near his bounding heart, before both slip to either side of Eddie’s neck, stretching to cross behind and drawing him in adoring, ethereal for how his eyes shine:

“A privilege in itself, spoken from so fine a wordsmith himself,” Steve murmurs, close enough that the shape of the words on his lips brush Eddie’s like their own kiss, and then, more than any kiss, he mouths deep in earnest:

“How I love you, Eddie Munson.”

“And I you,” Eddie breathes, his heart a mallet for all the most ineffable, unthinkably rapturous reasons; “another thing words fail for the depth.” Eddie shakes his head, tries to breathe into and out through the wholeness of that feeling in him as a rule, his new norm.

“I’d live inside your heart if I could,” Eddie finds himself exhaling slow, almost overcome, the words spilling on their own for wanting, for feeling this much: “I’d hold you close inside mine.”

“And here you stand, saying you have no words,” Steve whispers, leaning close, cheek to cheek as they both breathe so close their chests lie flush; they can both feel the hearts pounding beneath the other’s ribs.

“I said no such thing,” Eddie corrects brightly, but it’s so featherlight, it’s a certainty that’s nearly weightless save that it’s singlehandedly shifted his entire world:

“I said words failed the feeling,” Eddie mouths against the barest hint of Steve’s stubble; “and to that I still hold.”

And if it means exactly what it feels like: Steve holds the same.

Because the way he leans away only to dive back in to devour Eddie, relentless, passion bleeding between them so fast and full that Eddie thinks he can trace the way it bruises them both so deliciously, marks them reverent and exuberant; the way Eddie feels a sparkling coursing through his veins and sees it reflected in Steve’s eyes in the moments they’re forced to part for breath just to plunge back in again within mere moments, to drown only to better learn to breathe at all—

There are no words for this.

But the truth is undeniable that the both of them feel it.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx

divider credits here and here and here

💫 ao3 link here

[im-a-writer--im-in-distress]

The Witchling (Part II)

Writer: im-a-writer—im-in-distress.tumblr.com

Insert with: Ruhn Danaan

Reader: Female (she/her)

Words: 2700+

About: Ruhn and his girlfriend are having a rough night…

Warning(s): (spoilers for this story ahead) near death, vampirism (TVD), werewolf bite (sorry, Ruhn)

A/N: So sorry this took so long! I have no excuse. But here is the second part! Originally written for Ruhn Week 2024, this story was inspired by @danikamariewrites’s post found here.

Part One

Ruhn and Flynn skidded to a stop outside the address Hypaxia had given them, tires screeching on the wet pavement. The Old Square was packed with the usual bustle of Lunathion's nightlife. The witch-queen was already there, her face tight with worry.

“Hypaxia!” Ruhn called, slamming the car door and rushing towards her, with Flynn hot on his heels.

“This way,” she said and led them down an abandoned side-street blocked off by giant steel gate that sat corkscrew on its hinges. She crossed towards the decorative door set into a weathered brick wall. Ruhn yanked at it, but it only creaked in protest.

"Hurry up, witch," he snapped, frustrated.

“It’s not the door,” she replied, ignoring his tone.. She uncorked a vial of red liquid she had pulled from her robes and dripped a single drop onto the jutting corner of a mismatched brick. Ruhn watched, cringing at the sound of stone-on-stone in his ears as the brick swung open like a tiny door. Inside, there was a single jar of similar red liquid.

Hypaxia reached in and pulled out the jar. She examined it, warmth still emanating from it. “She was here. But she’s gone now.”

“Is that blood?” Flynn asked, eyeing the jar.

Hypaxia pushed the jar into Flynn’s grip, who held it at arm’s length, repulsed. She was watching Ruhn. “She never told you, did she?”

Ruhn’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. The truth was, he didn’t know. He was discovering more about Y/N in the two hours than he had during their entire relationship. He used to think he knew her well, at least as well as she knew him. At least half as well. He didn’t even know what he didn’t know anymore. The realization hit him hard.

“Where is she?” he shouted at no one in particular, slamming his fist into the steel door. The door gave a loud rattle on its hinges, and Hypaxia flinched.

“Her blood will take us to her.” She knelt down and poured the remaining red liquid from her vial onto the pavement, mumbling an incantation over it. Heart pounding, Ruhn watched as the pool of blood twitched, then swirled, reacting to the witch’s spell. It straightened and shot off in one direction.

Hypaxia rushed after it, and the males followed. The streets of Lunathion blurred around them as they sprinted after the tracking spell, each step pounding in Ruhn’s chest. Fear clawed at him, but so did the questions. Who were you really? Why hadn’t you trusted him with whatever this was? And the deepest claw of all: Are you okay?

The blood arrow led them through dark alleys and winding streets, its eerie glow casting long shadows. Flynn kept pace beside him, talking to him, trying to ground him. “We’ll find her, Ruhn,” he said. “We’ll find her.”

His words didn’t help. The image of you lying hurt and bleeding somewhere haunted him, the echo of your gut-wrenching cry in his mind. He couldn't shake it. Your mental block was down, a sign that you were unconscious. But it wasn’t that. You were sunk deep inside your mind, not even dreaming, and he couldn’t reach you. Ruhn tried not to think about it.

They caught up with the blood arrow; it had stopped and stamped itself onto the pavement. Ithan and other members of the Auxiliary were already there; the stench of blood was thick in the air. Panic seeped deep.

He pushed past the line of officers surrounding the alley. Ithan tried to intercept him. “Dec found the scene on the cameras—”

Ruhn shoved past him and froze. It was a bloodbath. Seven mangled bodies of all sorts of Vanir littered the alley, the beam of moonlight between the roofs glittering off the river of blood. It was a shocking sight, even for someone as seasoned as him. His blood ran cold. You were here? His eyes darted across the mangled bodies, stained red. No. He couldn’t process it. His mind kept glitching back to “You were supposed to be alone”.

“Ruhn!” Hypaxia called his name. She was crouched in a shadowed part of the alley. A body sprawled alone on the ground. He dove to your side, sobs ripping up from his throat. “No, no, no.”

“She’s alive,” Hypaxia reassured him, though her voice confirmed you might not be for long. Then, she shouted for Flynn, “Give me the jar!”

Flynn tossed it to her.

Lilac eyes tracked your body, cold under his touch. Bare skin peeked through the deep slashes on your shirt, signs you had healed from at least one attack. But there was blood, too much blood, soaked into your clothes and hair, spilling out under you. “Why isn’t she healing?” Ruhn barked, his bright eyes locked on the fresh wounds that littered your skin.

“Help me,” Hypaxia ordered, and he pushed your limp body to lay flat. Your head rolled to the side, exposing an angry, red wound at your left shoulder.

“That’s why,” Hypaxia breathed, upset.

Ruhn didn’t know what she meant, but the puncture wound was deep and still bleeding, and that was all he could think about. Hypaxia snapped her fingers at him. “Come here. Lift her head up.”

Ruhn moved to kneel by your head, lifting it to rest on his knee. His fingers pulled sticky hair from your face as Hypaxia tipped the uncapped jar towards your mouth. A small stream of red rolled down your cheek and into your hair, but your body involuntarily swallowed a few gulps.

Hypaxia tightened the lid back on the jar and tossed it at Flynn, who barely caught it in his surprise. Ithan leaned over, peering at the jar. “What’s that?”

“Trust me, bro. You don’t wanna know.”

Hypaxia prodded at the puncture wound on your neck, which was swollen and red and angry. Your body whimpered and shifted away from the witch-queen’s touch. Ruhn expelled the breath he didn’t know he was holding. You weren’t awake, and you weren’t okay, but you were alive. He folded down to rest his forehead on yours. ‘You’re okay, witchling’, he said into your mind even though you weren’t there to hear it.

“We need to get her to my lab,” Hypaxia said, standing. She turned to Ithan. “You can drive fast, yes?”

Ithan bolted towards his car.

Ruhn lifted your body into his arms, feeling the chill of your blood-soaked clothes against his. ‘I’ve got you, baby.’ Crimson staining his shirt. ‘I’ve got you.’

Every second felt like an eternity. You were hurt, badly, and Ruhn couldn’t shake the image of finding you like that. Your body carved in a red you couldn’t heal. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

Ithan skidded the car to a stop at the entrance of the alley, the tires screeching against the pavement. Before the engine had died, he was out and helping Ruhn with your body. They settled you into the backseat, your torso draped across Ruhn’s lap. He cradled your head, fingers trembling against your clammy skin.

Hypaxia clambered into the front seat. “Drive, Ithan! Faster than that,” she snapped. The engine roared to life, and the car peeled out into the road. Hypaxia twisted in her seat.

“Ruhn, you have to wake her up,” she commanded.

“What?”

“I need to know how long she’s been like this,” Hypaxia said, impatient.

“You’re the mediwitch! Can’t you tell by the wound?”

Hypaxia’s expression softened, empathy cutting through. “Wolf bites are different for witchlings. We’re on a clock.”

Ruhn looked down at you. He didn’t know what to feel. His hand traced over your cheek—the only place untainted by blood, until his fingers smeared across its surface. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Wake up, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Please, Y/N, you have to wake up.”

You remained unresponsive, breaths shallow and irregular. Panic tightened its grip around Ruhn’s chest. He couldn’t shake you. Open cuts scarred your limbs. He didn’t want to hurt your.

“Use your starlight.”

“I can’t heal her with that. I’m not Bryce.” Ruhn argued.

“The brightness will jolt her. Maybe enough to jolt her awake.”

Ruhn clenched his jaw. What if he didn’t have enough?

“If you do nothing, she will die a slow, agonizing death.” Hypaxia continued, heartlessly. “Ruhn. Ruhn,”—his eyes met hers—“One touch. No more, or you will kill her. But at least, that would be quick.”

Ruhn’s stomach churned. His fingers tightened around one hand. ‘Stay with me, Y/N’, he whispered, needing you to hear him. If you had, you gave no indication.

With a breath meant to calm him—though it didn’t do a good job—Ruhn closed his eyes and focused inward. He’d started to see the spark of starlight within him like a tiny star inside of him, the way you had always described it. The power had meant a whole lot of things to him, but you thought of it as the purest part of him. He wanted to believe that. He grasped it in his hand.

He placed his hand over your sternum, feeling the faint, uneven thrum of her heart. “Please, work,” he murmured. Channeling the starlight, he pricked the sharpest point into your chest, and a flash of white piercing dark shadows flashed in his mind.

Your body convulsed, a sharp cry tearing from your lips as you sprung upward.

“Y/N!”

“Ruhn,” you coughed, catching his eye. “Ow.”

“You scared me half to death,” Ruhn snapped. Tears streamed down his face as he yanked you backwards into his chest, pressing his lips to the side of your head, his words muffled. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

You clamped your hands down on his arms, holding him tight. The sting of his hold didn’t even matter.

Ithan released a hard breath, and Hypaxia reached back to your hand in hers. “Welcome back.”

You winced, pain from your neck sharp and raw. You reached up to it.

“Don’t touch that,” Ruhn said, grabbing your wrist.

“How long has it been since you fed?” Hypaxia asked you.

You tried not to look like a guilty kid caught in the cookie jar. “The full moon,” you admitted.

“That’s over a week go,” Hypaxia exclaimed. “Y/N, you can’t go that long.”

“That’s what tonight was. I needed to hunt. Restock,” you muttered, too tired to argue with her.

Ruhn thought back, piecing together fragments of the past week. You had been with him through every step of his mission with Agent Daybright. You’d helped them attack the Spine. You were killer on that mission; they wouldn’t have gotten out without you. Had you overdone it? Had he not noticed? Guilt twisted in his chest.

Ithan made a sharp turn and the force jerked Ruhn into the door. “Hey, watch it,” he snapped, but his body had shielded yours. The city blurred through the window.

Hypaxia gave the shifter an instruction, and then turned back to you. “Your caches, Y/N. Are any near my lab?”

“Not anymore.”

“We’re almost there,” Hypaxia said. “I need you to tell me where your caches are.”

You nodded, and pressed backwards into Ruhn’s embrace. He held you tightly, his muttering into your hair. In your weakened state, you realized you couldn’t understand the words anymore, only that they were in his voice.

The car screeched to a halt outside Hypaxia’s lab, and Ithan leaped out. Ruhn lifted you into his arms, your head nestled into his neck, your wound bared on the other side.

Ithan helped Hypaxia clear a bed for you, and Ruhn laid you down, pulling a seat to sit next to you. You gave him a weak smile, brushing hair away from his face with your fingers. He grasped that hand and held on tight.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Ruhn whispered, his voice breaking. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Ruhn shook his head, kissing your hand. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Hypaxia came back with a cup. “Drink this.”

“Is that what I think it is?” you asked, looking unhappily at the cup.

“Yes,” she said. “And you’re gonna drink it.” She handed the cup to Ruhn as though to prove you weren’t getting out of it.

The bed you were on was already folded upwards at the head, so you didn’t need much help to drink the concoction. It didn’t taste bad; in fact, the warm tea was welcome on your dry throat. But as you swallowed the last of it, the stinging started. You hissed, and Ruhn put the empty cup down, moving closer to you to ask what’s wrong.

Your back arched off the bed in pain, and your face scrunched against the stinging sensation blossoming under the wound at your shoulder.

"What did you give her?" Ruhn snapped at the witch.

Hypaxia spoke to you, unperturbed by the furious Fae prince. “I know it hurts," she said, "but you won’t have to bare it very long. I put a sedative in.”

Ruhn looked at the witch, angrily. “Why did you have me torture her if she could sleep?" Why did she encourage him to risk starlight on you if it wasn't necessary?

“I needed to test her cognitive function. I did.” She turned towards you, who was breathing roughly, small whimpers falling from your lips against the pain. “Y/N, I need the addresses to your caches.”

You rattled off a single address in the business district in a half-pained, half-weary whimper. Ruhn placed a hand on your thigh. His own skin ached at the sight of your pain. It broke his heart when you arched against it again.

“Go to sleep, Y/N. Stop fighting it,” Hypaxia said, her voice less sympathetic and more matter-of-fact.

Ruhn glared at the witch. Hypaxia ignored the anger, only adding: “She needs to relax. Only you can help her with that.” And with that, Hypaxia left the room.

Ruhn touched your face. Despite the muscles in your neck pulling taut against the pain in your shoulder, your Y/E/C eyes open and lock on his gaze. You smile at him, a softer whimper coming from your chest, and you lean into his hand.

“Go to sleep, Y/N. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“I don’t deserve you,” was the whisper on your lips.

The prince’s heart cracked. He grabbed your left hand, lacing his fingers with yours in a tight grip—mostly to resist the urge of grabbing your face with both hands and being too rough.

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

“Stop,” Ruhn said, and his voice cracked. Revealing the rising fear that you were getting ready to die and leave him.

You flinched again at the tea’s sting under the bite wound, but the draught Hypaxia had put in your drink was starting to kick in, and it numbed the sharpness of the sting. The flinch of your muscles was the only sign of your pain, no longer arching off the bed. Your eyes were starting to droop, too.

“I love you, alright,” Ruhn said pointedly. “You can’t leave me. You’re not allowed to die on me.”

Your right hand lifted to lay on his that cradled your face.

He beat you to saying anything. “Promise me,” he snapped, eyes fierce, as he glared down on you. “You’ll be okay.”

Saying nothing, you reached up with that right hand and pulled him down to your lips, whimpering—desperate—as he kissed you. He was tender, but you didn’t want tender. Ignoring the pain, you leaned up, your hand on his neck, in his hair, stopping him from pulling away. You kissed him fiercely, and he matched you, bruising your lips with a need for you to be okay. You needed his kiss more than anything else.

Your mindblock was already coming down as the sedative sank in, but you pulled it the rest of the way down. Ruhn felt it give way, and immediately spoke into your mind. ‘Stay with me.’

Your hand fell from his hair in exhaustion and he released your kiss, pressing his forehead to yours, and spoke into your mind again as you fell into sleep. ‘Stay with me, witchling.’

Taglist

@acourtofbatboydreams @mybestfriendmademe @danikamariewrites

Hit me up if you wanna be tagged in the following part!

[sephirothsplaything]

DNA| Sec.80 high power-chapter 14

A/N:Nooo Rhaella! Please don't project your obsessive/avoident attachment style onto Jace because you miss Aemond!!

This is the story of Lady Rhaella Targaryen; the strange one and her role in the Dance Of Dragons. Loved by few and feared by many.

The blood of the dragon runs in Targaryen's veins. Something else runs in Rhaella.

BLACK TARGARYEN OC/READER

PARINGS: Aemond, Cregan,slight Jace, slight Addam,original character.

Read the last chapter here!

"I should have been there," Jacaerys grumbled. 

Rhaella looked up to the starry skies in silence. She was still reeling from her brush with death. How the weight of her dagger felt lighter when she found the resolve to kill again. 

It was quite perplexing. The thought almost made her smile.

Jace had found himself outside to where Rhaella had stashed herself away. She did not particularly mind his presence, so long as he kept quiet. But here he was, ranting away.

"Are you listening?" Jace asked. Rhaella nodded. Jacaerys was angry, rightfully so. But more than anything he wished to act, to fly his dragon and turn their enemies to ash.

"It was a bold scheme, I admit," Rhaella says finally. Jace rolled his eyes in response. 

"Such stupidity could only come from Aegon, I'm sure." He said.

"Criston Cole had a likely role." Rhaella comments. It was not so long ago that he had blocked her from leaving Alicent's company. There was so much hatred in his eyes.

"If my mother only allowed me to be of use." Jace ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Rhaella scoffed. Was he truly this short-sighted?

"You lack experience, your dragon is young," Rhaella states bluntly. Jace turned fully to face her. His cousin was an enigma, for sure. He could not comprehend how she was content with watching and waiting.

"You could claim a dragon or even an egg," Jace said. 

"I am trying,it is not so easy." Rhaella snapped. He couldn't understand, his dragon was born to him. Rhaella was shown no such favor.

Recognizing he had struck a nerve in her, Jace drew back instantly, eyes softening.

"I meant no harm by it," Jace reassured. Rhaella shrugged his words off, it meaning little and less.

"I am not your betrothed, you need not consider my feelings," Rhaella scoffed.

Jace parted his lips to speak, but Rhaella's icy voice cut him off once more. She felt compelled to continue.

"You wish for vengeance, it is unbecoming of you," Rhaella said. 

Jace observed Rhaella's state. It was as if she hadn't been attacked merely hours ago. Her serene demeanor was nearly terrifying. Like she had since made up her mind about something.

"Was Luke not worthy of vengeance?" Jace asked. Rhaella's steely purple eyes hardened. She misliked when her words were misconstrued.

"War is sweet to those who have never fought," Rhaella said. The words were for Jace as well as herself. A poor attempt to calm her own bloodlust.

"My mother holds back, it unravels us all," Jace countered. Rhaella shook her head.

"She is strategic in her wait, you are too blind to see it."

The two cousins were quiet for a moment. The warm Dragonstone breeze passed over both of them.

"Aemond will not stop, and neither shall I," Jace concluded. Rhaella tensed at the sound of his name. Hard as she might try, Aemond's letter was still occupying space underneath her pillow.

"Alright then, promise me this," Rhaella said. "You are the heir to the throne, and my sister will be your queen."

Jace's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He could not follow.

"Take all your spite and sorrow, give it to me so that you may think clearly," Rhaella said.

"I would not dare place that burden on you cousin," Jace said.

"I can take it, you cannot." Rhaella resolved. Jace's anger would cloud his logic, and if Rhaella were to instill her plans inside of him, she could not have his foolishness getting in her way. His claim was much too important.

"Agreed, but I ask something from you in return."

Rhaella's eyebrow raised. She was unsure if she was in any mood to entertain this.

"Let us help each other keep our wits about us, I know you long to act as well," Jace said.

So he had been paying attention. All the subtle twitches in Rhaella's mostly melancholic face. Twitches of rage and passes of darkness. Jace had indeed seen it all.

Rhaella was not so alone as she thought. 

"Fine," Rhaella said, almost in a whisper. She resigned, hoping he would not disappoint her.

Jace stood up, stretching out. He offered his hand to Rhaella.

"The hour has grown late, shall I walk you to your chamber?"

………………..

THE MORROW CAME. Astris had scrubbed Rhaella raw and brushed out her curls into oblivion.

"You could be more gentle," Rhaella muttered. She watched Astris dart back and forth gathering her clothes for the day.

"Mayhaps, but now you look more like a lady!" Astris retorted. Holding out a towel, Rhaella wrapped it around herself.

"I never thought much of my looks." Rhaella sat on a stool as Astris began to work through her hair. Her mother would tell her that she was pretty, but Rhaella figured she was more or less obligated to do so.

Astris formed Rhaella's silver curls into a braided style more elaborate than she was used to. The braids tapered off into thick curls that fell to her waist. 

"I could not know why, you have quite a lusty figure," Astris commented cheekily. It made Rhaella's cheeks grow warm.

"If you are finished with your jests, I would like my gown," Rhaella said.

Astris helped Rhaella slip into her gown, it was a fine thing indeed. A red and black dress with a form-fitting corset with long sleeves that flowed down.

"What did you and the prince discuss last night?" Astris asked, adjusting the corset.

"I simply advised him to not be a fool," Rhaella responded. Astris giggled, leaning into her.

"And here I thought it would be something of note."

Rhaella turned to face her, purely unamused. "Today you are full of jokes, I see."

Astris shrugged, a small smirk on her face. "I had nearly forgotten what your preferred taste in men is."

She was relentless today, likely bored. Rhaella dismissed Astris from her chamber, turning back to look at her reflection. She felt like a pretender.

When Rhaella entered Rhaena's room, she found that Baela was already there.

"Sudden change in wardrobe?"Baela said. Rhaella made herself comfortable on Rhaena's couch.

"Astris insisted, overwhelmingly so," Rhaella said. Rhaena's eyes sparkled at the sight of her sister, despite her own sullen face.

"What is it?" Rhaella asked. Rhaena sighed, her hands restless with one other.

"Her grace is shipping me off to the Vale with Joffery, Viserys, and Aegon," Rhaena said.

"Perhaps it is for the best," Baela said, holding Rhaena's hand. She scoffed in response.

"Yes away from everything else, I shall play the nursemaid," Rhaena said bitterly.

"You'll have our father to thank for that," Rhaella said. Since his mistake..as he called it occurred, The queen rightfully feared that the greens may take action against her youngest.

"I hate him, sometimes," Baela admitted, reluctantly. For Rhaella, it was a common feeling she held since she was a girl. Despite her loathing, she found herself missing her father.

She would not dare voice the thought.

"The queen trusts you with them the most, she knew better than to send me," Rhaella said. Joffery seemed to prefer Rhaena to herself whilst Aegon and Viserys were always occupied by a maid. 

"She keeps you and Baela because of the dragons," Rhaena said.

Baela sighed again. Rhaella knew the feeling all too well. A Targaryen without a dragon was like a knight without a sword.

"If it is of any commiseration, Aegarax still refuses me," Rhaella said. 

"He is wild, give it time," Baela said. But in truth, time was little and less on their side. War was at their doorstep and Rhaella was annoyingly vulnerable.

"Right," Rhaella murmured to herself.

"The queen has asked me to keep watch over Kings Landing," Baela stated.

A poorly timed thing to say, Rhaena and Rhaella glanced at each other in agreement.

"Is that safe? So close to the city?" Rhaena asked.

"I shall stay high," Baela said confidently. Rhaella greatly doubted her sister would follow the queen's instructions so closely. And what if she fell upon one of the Greens dragons?

Her stomach turned at the thought.

"Moondancer is small, she will not be noticed so easily," Rhaella said instead.

Baela gave Rhaena a reassuring hug. Rhaella simply observed passively. 

"Come to the council meeting with me Rhaena," Rhaella suggested. She had grown tired of not having Rhaena by her side.

The two girls ventured to the Stone drum, the center of Dragonstone. Baela headed to the dragon pits in preparation.

Each sister took their place by the table. Jace glanced at Rhaella, eyeing the dress she wore.

"Is that new?" Jace whispered. Rhaella turned her head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Why?" Rhaella asked, a small smirk gracing her face. "Do you wish to trade clothes?"

Jace sighed in resignation before averting his attention back to the matter at hand.

"How fares Prince Daemon with our army?" Ser Alfred asks. The queen Rhaenyra seemed to physically coil at the question. She had grown weary at the mention of him, as had Rhaella.

"There has been no word, your grace." One of the maesters says. Rhaella glanced at Rhaena. Their father was practicing avoidance, as usual.

"Then we must send out all the dragons, overturn the Greens strongholds." Ser Alfred urges. 

He was often quick to speak out of turn, forgetting his place. But Rhaella did not exactly disagree. Had it been up to her, she would have done away with the greens army ages ago.

If only Aegarax would let her, that was.

"If dragons begin fighting dragons we only invite our own destruction," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella's hand twitched at her side. 'All power demands sacrifice'

Ser Alfred chuckled bitterly in response. Jace's hand hovered atop his sword. Rhaella nudged him with the heel of her shoe. Slowly, he brought his hands back to either side of him.

"But your grace," Another lord spoke. "You have witnessed first hand how exposed you are."

Ser Alfred hummed in agreement. " Had Ser Erryk not arrived, you and the lady Rhaella would have been slain."

Quite the opposite, Rhaella had felt. Perhaps she would have sustained injuries, but she would have the two eyes of the invader clutched in the palm of her hand before the fact.

If only Ser Erryk had waited a while longer.

"Perhaps you should flee to somewhere safe, whilst we remain here." Lord Celtigar suggested.

"She shall do no such thing." Rhaella hurled out before she could control herself.

For watching the queen struggle amongst these idiots caused her patience to wain greatly. Why was she allowing such a thing, Rhaella could hardly understand.

"That would be treason, you are lucky you took it no further." Queen Rhaenyra said.

She stood up to leave abruptly, likely to her chambers. There was not much else for her to do.

"That concludes it, I suppose," Jace mutters out. Rhaella had grown bored of this routine.

"Come sister, let us ready your things." She said to Rhaena.

……….

RHAELLA WATCHED as Tyraxes and Stormcloud were ushered out in their crates. Rhaena held a look of nausea.

"It will be fine." Rhaella tried to assure her, although her flat tone was less than.

Baela walked up to them, embracing Rhaena.

"You have not left yet?" Rhaella asked. 

Baela shot Rhaella a look. "And miss Rhaena leave? I think not."

Rhaena grasped the hands of Baela. Rhaella stood off, a small pang of bitterness stirred within her. If only she could allow herself to be so free with affections.

"Go safely, sister." Baela wished.

"I will be safe enough," Rhaena said sharply. Rhaella crossed her arms,opting to keep her gaze on the young dragons.

"I'm sure you will be well-liked in the Vale." Rhaella said.

Baela hummed in agreement. "You may find yourself glad to be out of harm's way," Baela said.

It was not so condescending, but Baela could not understand. Such was the privilege of one born to a dragon.

"Do not coddle me Baela," Rhaena said bitterly. Baela looked to Rhaella for help but found no such relief.

"You do coddle, often in fact," Rhaella said shrugging.

"But I meant no insult," Baela said sincerely. She turned her head to the dragon egg chamber. "And here, I think is some consolation."

The sisters joined Queen to Rhaenyra by them. There, presented were four eggs each of them varying in color.

"But should all come to ruin, you shall bear our hope for the future," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella stared at the eggs. In truth, she thought she had fed the last of Syrax's clutch to Aegarax.

'Ice and Fire' Rhaella felt a sharp pain in her head, causing her to hiss. She did not need to think too hard as to what had caused it.

"Are you alright?" Jace asked gently. Rhaella took a slight step back. 

"Ice and fire." She muttered. Jace frowned, stricken with confusion. Rhaella had once again returned to her strangeness.

Baela and Rhaena hug once more, a final goodbye. It was unclear when they would see each other again.

Rhaena hugged Rhaella as well, pulling her from the daze she was in.

"I shall miss you," Rhaella said. Rhaena's eyes watered.

"Then grant me this one favor," Rhaena said. Rhaella looked to Rhaena expectantly.

"Burn the letter, should longing become your enemy."

But how could Rhaella tell her that it already had? She would hold it in her hand for hours at a time before she drifted off to sleep.

"As you wish," Rhaella said. A lie.

When Rhaena and their young step-siblings had left, Rhaella went back to the topic of the previous council.

The queen was in an impossible situation. It was agony to be left in the dark as to what the Greens were plotting. 

Rhaella misliked not knowing things. A thought crossed her mind. Perhaps she could yet be useful to her grace—dragon or not.

"Your grace!" Rhaella sped up her pace to keep up with Rhaenyra. The queen turned to her. In all honesty, Rhaenyra was shocked that Rhaella was speaking to her. She had a thought that the girl fully resented her.

"Rhaella?" Queen Rhaenyra said. "Wha-."

"I wish to speak to you, it is urgent," Rhaella said hurridly

Rhaenyra led Rhaella into her chambers. Rhaella folded her hands in front of her, confident in her actions.

"You look quite pretty, might I say." Queen Rhaenyra commented. Rhaella tried to smile but it came out like a grimice.

"I have a proposition," Rhaella said. Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow.

"We are maintaining the blockade with my grandsire's fleets, are we not?" Rhaella asked.

Rhaenyra nodded. "It has been a great help."

Rhaella eyes down the multiple books on the side table, open to the pages of Queen Visenya.

"Visenya had a brilliant mind for warfare," Rhaella said. She did not shy away from the most bloodiest of affairs. It was admirable.

"I had hoped to draw inspiration possibly," Rhaenyra said.

Rhaella herself preferred the black bride, Rhaena Targaryen.

"Use the hunger of the smallfolk as a weapon," Rhaella suggested. "The people of Kings Landing are surely starving."

"That would be too cruel." Rhaenyra shook her head. Frustrated, Rhaella shut the book with a thud.

"No, it would be war," Rhaella responded. How could the queen not see a golden opportunity right under her nose?

Rhaenyra looked at Rhaella for a moment. Such a soft face, she had. Words of viciousness leaving her mouth was quite jarring to witness.

"What would you then?" Rhaenyra resided. "If you were placed in my position."

'Surround the red keep with all of our dragons.' Was the first thought that crossed her mind.

"Infiltration, someone who could be overlooked," Rhaella said. "There is much risk with multiple spies, it is better to send a single formidable one."

"And who would you propose?"Rhaenyra asked.

"Astris, my own handmaid."Rhaella could not think of anyone better suited for the task.

"No." Queen Rhaenyra shot her offer. 

"She is swift and meticulous," Rhaella argued. "Astris served the prince of Pentos before her servitude to me."

Rhaenyra considered this. She had never seen Rhaella so sure of anything.

"And you trust her, wholeheartedly?" Rhaenyra asked. Rhaella's eyes softened at the mere thought of her.

"It was she along with Mysaria who aided in my escape," Rhaella said.

"Help me see your plan then," Rhaenyra said. Eager, Rhaella sat down.

"Let Astris keep check on Aegon and the rest," Rhaella said. "She can report back anything that might be of use."

Rhaenyra hummed. "It is dangerous." 

"I am confident she can handle it, Aegon is little challenge," Rhaella said. Her hand twitched by her gown. Her true worry lay with Aemond, Astris would need to avoid him.

"And if something was to happen?" Rhaenyra asked.

"I shall take full responsibility, and act accordingly," Rhaella assured.

Queen Rhaenyra stood, smiling softly at Rhaella. It warmed her to see Rhaella so expressive,as it was so unlike her.

"You have your mother's mind, I think," Rhaenyra said. Rhaella blinked, averting her gaze to the floor. She could not know how to reply

The queen Rhaenyra moved past the silence. "Ensure you prepare Astris properly, I shall make arrangements."

.............

The boat was made ready for Astris's departure at dusk. The time had come and Rhaella's anxieties ate away at her.

The two girls stood in the outer corridor. Rhaella was sending her closest friend off to the vipers, and to what end? Gratification? She could privately admit this was both reckless and selfish.

Astris seemed to sense her lady's unease. Gently, she grabbed Rhaella's shaky hand.

"I can handle myself well enough, you know that," Astris said. Rhaella knew it, as she knew very well what Astris could do.

"You could still be hurt," Rhaella said softly. 

Astris smiled in response, a deep blush coloring her cheeks. "The Gods shall watch over me."

Rhaella scoffed. The Gods?

"I want you to make note of any green council member with influence," Rhaella said. In addition, she had entrusted Mysaria with maintaining communication. Rhaella wished to know every detail in the Red Keep, down to the gossip of maids. She was uniquely interested in Aemond's daily routine as well.

"Yes, my lady," Astris said. Rhaella's lips twitched into a smile. 

"Be wary of Aegon, he is a cunt," Rhaella added.

Astris raised a dark brow. "I shall do my best."

The boat sails dropped, ready to venture into the waters.

"Will you be alright, my lady?" Astris glanced at Rhaella. The energy surrounding Rhaella had not subsided, it merely seemed to increase. It was all too apparent that the Targaryen's girl mind was beginning to fracture.

"We shall see," Rhaella said. 

Astris began to leave with a small curtsy, but before she went any further, Rhaella pulled her in, placing a firm kiss on her lips.

"I need you to do whatever is necessary," Rhaella whispered to her. The Black haired girl looked at her with wide eyes. Astris understood her lady completely and would act accordingly.

Rhaella watched her leave, a feeling of emptiness swallowed her. She walked along the outer courts of Dragonstone, wondering if this was a fool's plan.

In the distance, the roars of a dragon could be heard. Aegarax's distinct calls shot right through her.

Maybe he was upset she had neglected to visit him with a dragon egg. It had been some time since Rhaella had seen him.

Rhaella's walk to the dragon mount seemed shorter this time around. Looking up to the caves, she began to climb. It was only when she had ventured halfway up did she she a tall figure above her.

She cursed, nearly losing her footing. What person would be daring enough to find themselves in a wild dragon's cave?

Rhaella was not too worried though, whoever was there would surely meet their end. The discontented roars of Aegarax only grew louder.

"Lykirī, Aegarax!" Rhaella tried but to no avail. She looked around for the intruder once more but found nothing that could irritate the dragon.

Whatever High Valyrian she spoke had almost no effect. Aegarax crawled out of the cave, on full display to Rhaella. His black scales reflected the moonbeams present.

"Skoros iksos ziry?" Rhaella said in a hush.'What is it?' Aegarax settled into a grumble, his head was restless.

Slowly, Rhaella reached out her hand to him. But she was met with an open-mouthed roar, causing her to jerk back immediately.

Taking cover, Aegarax took flight from the cave and into the skies. Away from her and with him he took the hopes of progress.

Perhaps it was one great jest. She had kidded herself into truly believing she had achieved something of significance. 

Forever dragonless, a false Targaryen.