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bvidzsoo · 2 years

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Pure-blooded (Part 2)

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: the use of the word ‘bastard’, nothing else so far

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x oc

Word count: 8997

Summary: A story about a girl called Vaella Velaryon, who after more than six years, returns to King's Landing due to her brother, Luke, being questioned about his right as heir of Driftmark, and she meets Aemond. A changed man. A vicious man who is set to have his revenge, unknowing that Vaella would do anything for her family.

A/N: well, well, well...I outdid myself on this one, this part wasn’t supposed to exist, but my bestie asked me to write of the siblings bonding time so uhm- this part happened. Next part will have some violence, so get ready for that, and also I will only post it next week because this week will be busy for me. If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! I hope you enjoy this part and don’t be shy, share your thoughts with me, I love reading them! Happy reading now!

Taglist: @depressedperson88

↳Previous Part

The siblings had made a ruckus in the kitchen of the Red Keep as Vaella and Luke ran around, clumsily each grabbing a bowl to fill with the snacks they stole. Jace remained in the doorway, holding the door open for his siblings, as they avoided crashing into anyone and tried to escape the chef’s angry hands trying to grab at them. Vaella was laughing loudly as a servant tried to grab at her, but she swiftly ducked and slid towards the door, shouting at Jace to open it wider as Luke came running behind her with a scared expression as he was being chased by a very angry chef, who was holding their butcher knife. Once the siblings were out in the hallway, their blood cursing with adrenaline, they glanced at each other before running for the dragon pit to mount their dragons with all the snack they had. They were loud as they dodged everyone in their way, not even bothering to apologize when they ran into a lady and almost made her topple over. They didn’t care about the judgmental looks from those who recognized who the they were, their only goal was to get to their dragons before their parents would be alerted of their mischievous deeds. Back at Dragonstone, the servants and chefs, stopped saying anything to their parents after a while as they realized the children only did this to break free from their crushing roles and earn a little freedom over their actions. Of course, Vaella was the one who initiated this little tradition of theirs, and as Jace and Luke were really young when she convinced them to join her, they absolutely loved the idea, and begged their sister from then on to steal snacks and ride their dragons to the island twice every week.

They arrived to the dragon pit quite quickly as they were running, weaving through the people with laughter escaping their lips. There, they tried to catch their breaths before searching for their dragons. A big grin broke out onto Vaella’s lips when she spotted Silverwing and she rushed up to him, petting its scales around his neck. Her dragon let out a low grumble of appreciation and allowed Vaella to mount him. She secured the bowl between herself and the edge of the saddle and instructed Silverwing to walk outside and then take its flight. The take-off was always a bit shaky and harsh for the two of them, but after a while, Vaella got used to it and learned to brace herself tightly against her dragon’s saddle. She almost flew off once, a long time ago, when she was just a little girl. As her dragon rose towards the white clouds, Vaella looked down and admired the people and constructions getting smaller and smaller. When she arrived to King’s Landing she didn’t have the opportunity to admire the landscape as she was full of fury and was only concentrating on landing as fast as possible at the Red Keep. But now, she allowed herself to relax on Silverwing as she straightened her back and gazed around her, waiting for her brothers to show up. And soon, one by one, Luke on Arrax and Jace on Vermax, they appeared on Vaella’s sides, keeping a safe distance between their respective dragons. Vaella grinned and waved at her brothers, who did the same, and motioned for them to follow her. She had the route to the meadow engraved in her memory and couldn’t wait to get there. She had missed it. Silverwing rose higher up in the sky, letting out a loud screech as he realized too which way they were going. Vaella smiled and patted the dragon’s scales, muttering to him ‘Sȳz valonqar’ (good boy). Her brothers were hot on her tail, and she heard laughter from behind as Luke’s dragon playfully flew over and then underneath Jace’s, playing with Vermax in the air. Jace laughed as well, but kept Vermax focused on following Silverwing as he promised his dragon that he could play with Arrax once they have landed. Silverwing suddenly changed direction and started plunging towards the earth, the wind hitting Vaella’s face harshly, but she was used to it. Silverwing enjoyed plunging towards the earth when he had to land, despite scaring his rider to death more than once before. Vaella hated it at first, and realized her dragon was only doing it because he could feel her fear through their bond, and so kept on doing it, until they both became used to it and started genuinely enjoying it. Arrax and Vermax followed Silverwing closely, however, they were careful in their descend as Jace and Luke watched their sister horrified, never having seen Silverwing do this before. They thought he had gone mad, that is, until, he suddenly opened his wings and started graciously floating towards the earth. Luke cradled his own bowl close to his chest as Arrax let out a shriek, landing first in the meadow. Its tail brought a few trees down, making the earth rumble, as Silverwing and Vermax followed suit in landing, but somewhere where there were no trees. Vaella started laughing as she watched her brother approach them with an embarrassed expression, and Jace wasted no time in starting to tease him.

“Look at you!” He exclaimed, jumping off his dragon and running up to Luke, “Eager to land first, eh? That is what happens when you get greedy—”

“I was not being greedy.” Luke snapped, and shot Jace a glare when his big brother tried to ruffle his hair, “And help Vaella down, her hands are full.”

Vaella chuckled as her brothers turned to look at her, making Jace take off towards her, to take the bowl full of snacks from her hands. Vaella carefully got off from her dragon, who helped her with its wings.

“Nyke jāhor ivestragī ao klios tolī īlon tegon rȳ se mele lua.” (I will let you fish after we land at the Red Keep.) Vaella whispered to her dragon before turning to smile at her brothers, “The meadow is all ours!”

The two boys cheered as they started running around, the tall grass reaching their knees in some areas. Vaella watched them with a small smile on her lips as she let her hands run along the grass, feeling finally content and at ease. Being back at King’s Landing brought back many pleasant and unpleasant memories. She didn’t feel safe here. She was exposed to the family who wanted her head and her mother’s, and because of this, she had to be on high alert all the time. She was used to this as she is a soldier, but even they get tired after a while. It was mentally draining to her, and all she wished for was for the trial to be over, with Luke’s heritage being reinforced, and her returning to Dragonstone before flying off to Pentos. She hadn’t been home in over a moon, which felt like an eternity to her. She wished to spend some time with her mother, possibly be there for her when she’d give birth to her baby sister.

“Did you seriously not grab even one bar of chocolate, Luke?!” Vaella was brought out of her thoughts by Jace’s loud voice. The two brothers had plopped down onto the ground where the grass didn’t reach their knees, with hopes that it wouldn’t poke their eyes out.

“I wasn’t really looking at what I was taking, Jace—have you seen the chef chasing me with a butcher knife?!” Luke exclaimed outraged, making Vaella chuckle as she sat herself on the ground, looking at her two brothers with amusement on her face.

“I managed to grab some—” Vaella’s lips curled up in amusement as she leaned forward her own bowl, trying not to laugh, “peas. That can be a very healthy snack—”

Jace’s loud groan cut Vaella off and she rolled her eyes, grabbing a pea and throwing it at her ungrateful brother, “Luke is right, we didn’t have the opportunity to look at what we were taking, really. Those people were chasing us as if we were some animals.”

Luke started nodding with a pointed look at Jace as he started munching on some biscuits. They still managed to grab some good snacks, which weren’t peas, and Jace sighed, finally settling on a banana. Vaella had grabbed it by accident while aiming to take the chocolate bar, but the servant yelling at her had distracted her.

“Tell me, brother…” Vaella trailed off with a mischievous look on her face as she eased her hand inside the pocket of her pants, “Were you craving some chocolate?”

Jace’s face lit up as he forgot about the banana he was munching on and nodded his head eagerly, “Well then…have some.”

Vaella pulled her hand out of her pocket, holding two bars of chocolate. Her brothers eyes lit up as they both leaned forward, grabbing the chocolate from Vaella, as if their lives depended on it. She laughed quietly, shaking her head at them, as she grabbed Jace’s half eaten banana and took a bite of it.

“These are from Pentos?!” Luke exclaimed excited as he undid the wrapping of his chocolate. Vaella nodded her head and Jace gave her a big smile before devouring his chocolate, looking as if he had just eaten the best meal of his life.

“I had no idea you two loved chocolate so much.” Vaella scoffed as she looked at Luke, who had a little chocolate in the corner of his mouth, making Jace snicker at him.

“The chocolate you bring from Pentos is always tastier than the one the chefs make at Dragonstone.” Jace said as a matter of fact, and Vaella shook her head, glancing back at her dragon as he let out a loud sigh. Her dragon had curled up and laid on the ground, resting, as his eyes found its riders. Vaella smiled at him before looking around, seeing that Arrax and Vermax had fallen asleep, despite being in a playful mood while they flew over here. She wasn’t surprised that even their dragons felt tranquil in this little meadow. She had once fallen asleep, and if it wasn’t for the rain, she probably would’ve spent the night here, scaring her mother and father, Laenor, to death. Viserys would catch her flying away on her dragon more than once, and each time he inquired where she went, Vaella would just give him a cheeky smile before telling him that it was a secret and maybe one day she would show it to him. Now, knowing that he was sick and nearing the end of his life, she wished she could take the King here, offer him a little peace and freedom. Free from the claws of those monsters, the Hightowers.

“Sister,” Jace lightly touched her knee to get Vaella’s attention, “will you tell us of your time spent at Pentos—”

“Did you partake in another tourney?” Luke cut off his brother, eyes wide as he leaned forward. Vaella grinned at her brothers before leaning back, resting on the cold ground. She let her hands touch the grass, taking in the energies nature had to offer to her. It was so pleasant.

“Unfortunately, Luke, I could not partake in a tourney once again. They had caught onto my shenanigans, I’m afraid.” Vaella answered her brother with a chuckle, making the boy pout. Out of curiosity and boredom, Vaella would disguise herself as a man and take part in the tourneys organized in Pentos. She had skills, she was an excellent swordsman and she could ride a horse almost as well as her dragon. She would lie of her true nature, make up a name of a lord who lived in a small province close to Pentos, and thus charm all the ladies and anger all the lords and knights partaking in the event. There were times when she’d win and there were times when she’d lose. But each time she’d have ladies swooning over her by the end of the day, forcing her to reveal her true nature. The shock on their faces once she took her wig off was always amusing and it brought a sense of satisfaction to her. Rhaenyra was informed of her daughter’s questionable deeds as one of her knight’s was at Pentos during one of the tourney’s, and she couldn’t help but receive the news with laughter and a shake of her head, unsurprised of her daughter’s antics. After all, she was a younger copy of her late husband, Daemon, and she didn’t have much control over what her daughter did or didn’t while staying at Pentos. Rhaenyra trusted her that she wouldn’t do anything too stupid, thus, she wrote back to the knight, asking him to let her daughter be. Many lords egos and dignities’ had been hurt when Vaella disclosed her true self, starting small altercations, in which she gladly partook, knowing very well that no man had succeeded in defeating her. Well, besides her father, Daemon, who had taught her all of his knowledge. She had to yet defeat him; Daemon was waiting for that faithful day as well.

“Then did you partake in any adventures?” Jace asked eagerly, grabbing some peanut from Luke’s bowl. Luke and Jace were a bit disappointed that their sister had nothing funny to share connected to tourneys, they always looked forward to hearing about her tricks.

“I’m afraid not, brother,” Vaella smiled, closing her eyes as she stared up at the light blue sky, “My time spent at Pentos was rather tranquil and mild, compared to how I would usually spend my time there.”

Jace and Luke sighed in disappointment, sharing a glance, before following their sister and laying down onto the grass. Jace was a bit fidgety at first, scared of ants crawling onto him, but Luke found himself enjoying such mundane activity. He loved going to their secret little island, hearing the waves crash against the shore as he stared up at the blue clouds, but this meadow was a nice change. The quiet around them was surprisingly relaxing and he couldn’t help but relinquish in all the wild flowers around them and their scents as the breeze carried it to their noses. Luke could see himself coming here often if they were to live at the Red Keep. But he knew that would not happen anytime soon. And even if it did, that meant that his grandsire would be dead, and his mother would be Queen. He wanted that, he really did, but it made him so nervous when he realized he’d have to live here, with his uncles and their family. He knew the bad blood would never end between the two families, and it only brought a sour taste into his mouth, as he remembered the hearing would be tomorrow. Just a fool would believe the Hightowers would take their side. Luke knew, for certain, that his right as heir of Driftmark would be reneged tomorrow. He felt sad, perhaps he should’ve felt more outraged and angry, but he knew he wouldn’t be a great leader of the fleet. He tried to be brave and stand up to Ser Vaemond’s accusations, but after all, he was just a scared boy.

“I miss Ser Harwin Strong.” Luke found himself suddenly saying, lips in a tight line, as he blinked away the tears in his eyes. Jace and him weren’t stupid, they knew who their true father was. They never dared saying it out loud, because it would just prove what everyone else was accusing them of. They loved Laenor Velaryon, but Ser Harwin had done more for them, than their alleged father had. They couldn’t help it but miss Ser Harwin from time to time. Luke’s words made Jace tense up and he glanced at his younger brother, debating whether he should kick his foot or crack a joke and deviate from the subject, but Vaella beat him to it.

“I miss him too sometimes.” Vaella admitted out loud with a quiet sigh, opening her eyes to gaze at the white clouds. The sky was so beautiful today. Despite Ser Harwin not being Vaella’s father, he played an important role in her life. He protected her and kept her away from harm as a little girl and even taught her a little combat, fearing that she would have to protect herself if he weren’t to be around. As the years passed and she grew, her fondness for Ser Harwin only solidified as she saw how ferociously loyal he was to her mother and how good care he took of her brothers, and herself. On days when they had to stay inside the castle, Ser Harwin would play hide and seek with them, and sometimes, when it was late in the night and she couldn’t sleep, she would go to him and ask him to play dress up with her. Ser Harwin was quite surprised at Vaella’s request, but once agreeing to play with her, he was surprised of how much they found themselves laughing as Vaella tried to force Ser Harwin into a few of her mother’s clothes. Of course, Princess Rhaenyra started to catch on when her dresses in the morning would be misplaced or even torn in places, so she decided to follow her daughter and Ser Harwin one evening, only to find them laughing as Rhaenyra’s delicate dress only fit over Ser Harwin’s armored leg. She watched the two people with love in her eyes before turning around and returning to her chamber, content that her daughter and secret lover were so fond of each other, cradling her baby bump, as Jace was close to being born. Rhaenyra knew then and there, that Ser Harwin Strong will make a fine father.

Jace cleared his throat as he sat up, looking at his siblings with a frown. He didn’t wish to speak of Ser Harwin, finding it hard to speak of his dead father. He didn’t hold any resentment against him, but he wished Prince Laenor was his true father, then so many conflicts could’ve been avoided, “I saw uncle Aegon today, before I went to find Luke to head to the courtyard…”

Jace’s voice was loud as he trailed off and Luke winced, glancing at his brother, “Was he as cruel as Prince…Aemond?” He found it difficult saying his uncle’s name after today. He couldn’t lie, Aemond frightened him.

“I would not know,” Jace shrugged and tore a red wild flower off, “I only saw him from a distance, but apart from his obvious growth, he didn’t seem like he had changed much.”

“Why? Was he carrying a jug of wine?” Vaella mocked, as Luke started giggling before he sat up too, stretching his arms over his head. He was craving some grapes and was glad when he saw some in his sister’s bowl. Jace shook his head with an amused grin before tearing off another wild flower, a yellow one this time.

“Ye, he was holding something, ‘though I did not see what.” His answer made his siblings chuckle as they shook their heads. Apparently, Aemond was the only who had changed, and maybe Haelena, but they didn’t have the chance of meeting her yet.

“So,” Luke muttered, chewing his grapes, “Aegon seems not to have changed, but Aemond—” He shuddered as he said his uncle’s name, making Jace’s face instantly darken. He knew Prince Aemond represented a threat to them, his mere presence frightening.

“Uncle Aemond had always been a scared little boy, who would not stand up for himself, and just because his physique has changed, you shouldn’t let yourselves be intimidated by him, brothers.” Vaella’s tone was hard, and her brothers glanced at each other unsurely, before looking back at their sister.

“Yes, but—” Jace had gulped as his eyebrows furrowed, “you have seen him, Vaella. He’s—he’s looking—”

“Vicious.” Luke cut his brother’s words off, “And vile. And he hates us, sister, had you not seen the way he was looking at us? I do not think we should provoke him or anger him—”

“Oh, please,” Vaella has had enough of her brothers whining as she sat up, glaring at them, “Aemond is nothing but a man with a harsh exterior who still goes running to his mother, crying about the people who dared wrong him.”

Jace didn’t want to argue with his sister that her words weren’t quite accurate, and so, felt hesitant about speaking up. It was very obvious that Aemond had changed and wasn’t what he once was. Luke glanced at Jace with uncertainty before daring to open his mouth, “Princess Vaella, I think…I think you should be careful. Around uncle Aemond, I mean, I think, and Jace does too, that it’s best if you just…keep your head down while we stay at the Red Keep.”

Vaella scoffed and looked away from her brothers, shaking her head at them. Nobody could convince her that Aemond was the vicious man he seemed to be. When they were children, and before Alicent could get to her sons with her vile words, her and Aemond would stay in the library and read together fairytales of far-away lands. Each time they would finish the bedtime story, Aemond would sigh and whisper to Vaella that once they grew up they could go and live in a castle on a mountainside with their dragons, if his had finally hatched too. Vaella scoffed at the memory, flashes of a tall and dangerous looking Aemond invading her thoughts. He was different, she could tell, but she refused to acknowledge it just yet.

“Say what you want to say, brothers, you are free to speak your minds, but I shall never bow down to the Hightowers, no matter who tries to make me—” Vaella’s words were cut off as a dragon’s loud screech alerted them, making the siblings dragons stand up and look up towards the sky as if they sensed danger. Vaella, Jace, and Luke were on their feet, bowls abandoned as they rushed to their dragons, holding them and keeping them still. Vaella held the side of her dragon’s face as she looked up into the sky, gulping when she spotted the enormous dragon flying above them. It was Vhagar. And if Vhagar was here, so was Prince Aemond. Jace and Luke realizing the same looked at Vaella alarmed, unknowing what would be right to do.

“īlon umbagon syt zirȳla naejot henujagon.” (We wait for him to leave.) Vaella spoke up with authority, as her eyes remained glued to her uncle’s dragon, “Pār īlon return.” (Then we return.)

And that is how they proceeded. They waited for their uncle to be gone before mounting their own dragons to fly back to the Red Keep. Not wanting to ruin the lovely time they spent at the meadow, they continued to joke on the fly back and decided to race each other, curious to see who’s dragon would get faster to the dragon pit. Arrax was a fast dragon, so it wasn’t a big surprise as Luke beat his siblings to it and Jace had a feeling Vaella just let them win as he arrived as second on Vermax. And Jace was right, Vaella’s mood had been ruined the second they started talking about Prince Aemond, but she tried to hide it as she suggested them racing. However, Silverwing sensed her tenseness and took it easy, floating above the clouds and offering her a sense of calmness before they would land. Vaella instructed her brothers to wear the hoods of their cloaks as night was slowly falling, and she didn’t want any incidents as they had to weave through the people of King’s Landing before getting to the Red Keep. Vaella had her hood up as well, and despite wanting to blend in, it was only bringing attention to them. She wore her burgundy cloak for a reason, but sometimes it did not offer her the camouflage she needed. As they neared the entrance, two guards stepped forward and denied them access, that is until Vaella took off her hood, revealing her platinum blonde hair. The guards bowed their heads and wordlessly opened the gates for the siblings, Jace and Luke lowering their hoods as well as they waltzed inside the courtyard, lords and ladies glancing at them as everyone was headed inside the castle, the cold breeze of the evening drawing people inside their warm chambers. Jace and Luke were snickering about something behind Vaella, not paying attention to her nor towards the stairs, where their step-father, Daemon, was standing with his hands resting on his sword, legs crossed and head lowered as he watched Rhaenyra’s children approaching him.

“Father.” Vaella abruptly stopped, having held eye contact with Daemon the second they entered, making her brothers run into her back. Jace groaned and was about to inquire Vaella why she’d stop, but Luke nudged his shoulder with a panicked expression. Jace looked ahead and instantly tensed, watching an unamused Daemon slowly approaching them.

“Princess Vaella, Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys.” Daemon drew out the names of the children standing in front of him, backs straight and head held high, but Vaella was the only one holding his eye contact. Daemon tried not to smirk at his daughter’s defiance and show of power.

“Prince Daemon.” Luke and Jace had finally found their voices, once Daemon stood in front of them, both of them looking at the ground.

“Do you have no consideration for your mother’s well-being?” Prince Daemon’s voice was harsh as he scolded the siblings, “Disappearing from a place, without a word to your parents, in a land which does not favor us is rather foolish, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Vaella agreed, breaking the eye contact as she lowered her eyes to the ground, “I apologize, my Prince, it was my idea to take our dragons and fly for a bit—”

“Yes, I was not expecting it the other way around, Princess,” Daemon sighed and let his eyes rest on Jace and Luke, “I was told you raided the kitchen—”

“That was my idea, my Prince.” Jace tried to cover for his sister as he averted his eyes from Daemon, embarrassed, but also scared.

“And it was my idea to fly out to this meadow not far from here—”

“Luke!” Vaella snapped and glanced back at him with a glare, telling him to shut up. Only Rhaenyra and her knew of that place and she showed it to her brothers because she trusted them. She did not wish for her father to know about it. Luke smiled at her sheepishly and looked at the ground when Daemon chuckled.

“I know of that meadow, daughter, who do you think showed it to your mother?” Vaella’s eyes snapped back up at her father and she tried to hide her surprise. So all this time, both her mother and father knew of it. It made Vaella wonder how many times they visited that beautiful place.

“Well,” Vaella cleared her throat and glanced at her brothers before looking back at her father, “We apologize for disappearing unannounced, it was foolish of us.”

“Yes, very well,” Daemon nodded at them and sighed, placing his hands on his hips, “Now go and announce your mother that you all are back so that she stops worrying, quickly!”

Jace and Luke nodded eagerly, glad that they wouldn’t get punished, as they ran around Vaella and Daemon, stopping to wait for their sister at the top of the stairs. Vaella was about to walk away as well, but Daemon raised his hand, stopping her.

“Not you, Princess, we haven’t trained together in long.” Daemon said with a smirk and Vaella chuckled, looking at her brothers before waving.

“This late, father?!” Jace whined, wanting Vaella to go with them to their mother, knowing well that Rhaenyra wouldn’t shout at them if Vaella was there to mediate.

“ȳdra daor mazverdagon aōha muñnykeā umbagon syt longer, ziry jāhor mērī jiōragon madder.” (Don't make your mother wait for longer, she will only get madder.) Daemon sounded amused as Luke sighed and took Jace’s arm, quickly running inside the castle, not wanting to prolong their mother’s worry. Vaella chuckled at her father’s words and unclasped her cloak, the evening’s cold breeze getting to her. Daemon twirled his sword around as dusk settled on the kingdom, already wearing his armor. Vaella and him moved to the side of the courtyard to stay out of other’s way as they would train. Vaella went and grabbed an armor fit for her and put it on, getting familiar to the feel of it, as she unclasped her own sword from her hip, gripping the handle tightly in her left hand. She went and stood in front of Daemon, leaving a respectable space between them as Daemon started walking around her, yet Vaella stayed unmoving. She concentrated hard, listening to each of his father’s steps as he was behind her, and abruptly turned when she heard the slash of a sword in the air, rising to strike down on her. Vaella had her own sword up, blocking her father’s sword as she drew in a deep breath, striking once and twice, making her father step back in retaliation. Daemon smirked at her aggressivity and nodded his head at her, showing appreciation for her moves. Vaella paid it no mind as she jumped forward, bringing her sword towards her father as she attacked him this time, bringing vicious jabs against his armor with her sword. Daemon knew she was just playing around with him, having taught her that himself, so he started advancing on her, trying to sway her focus as his sword was blocked by hers again and again.

Vella and Daemon were fierce soldiers who had no problem playing with their adversary before gaining the upper hand and striking down on them. Usually their trainings would stretch out as they both took their time to attack, and tonight was no different. The courtyard was lit by torches as their swords clashed against each other, a few lords standing in the balcony, watching the father and daughter duel, as sweat covered their foreheads. Vaella was panting hard, her arms burning from the constant brute force she was using in her try of disarming her father, but it was futile. It seemed as if Daemon somehow always gained the upper hand and defeated her. It frustrated her, she wanted to show her father that she was capable of taking down anyone, but perhaps that day hasn’t come yet. With one blow, Vaella’s sword lay on the ground as Daemon had his pointed at her neck, chuckling when he saw his daughter’s fuming gaze staring daggers at him.

“You had gotten better, Princess.” Daemon said as he lowered his sword and picked up hers, handing it to her. Vaella took it with force, strapping it onto her hip as she sighed.

“And yet I wasn’t able to disarm you not even once, father, and we’ve been out here for hours.” Vaella voice was quiet as she undid her low bun, setting her hair free, as it reached the middle of her back. She had rather wavy hair and it got frizzy after wearing it in a bun all day, but that was her go-to hairstyle as it was easy to move around and fight, if needed.

“Do not fret, Vaella, you learn very quickly,” Daemon tried to reassure his daughter, “You picked up three new ways of attack tonight, daughter, you are good.”

“Good isn’t enough.” Vaella snapped as she helped her father undo the bindings of his armor, “I need to be excellent.”

“You already are.” Daemon whispered as Vaella stood in front of him. Her eyes found his and she looked away, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Despite Daemon not being around while she was a child, after her parent’s marriage, they had gotten close very quickly. It didn’t come as a big surprise as Vaella knew he was her real father, she yearned to know who he truly was. Rhaenyra had told her many stories of Daemon while she was growing up, and as a young girl, she had been so curious of this mystery man. Finally meeting him at Laena’s funeral came as a shock. Vaella could still remember the knot in her throat and her lungs refusing to take in air when she was forced to greet Daemon by her grandsire. Daemon’s eyes had widened, just slightly, but Vaella had seen it. Rhaenyra was biting her lip as she watched the exchange, and quickly fled the scene when Daemon turned to face her, face littered with a million of questions.

“You are Rhaenyra’s firstborn child, yes?” Daemon had asked Vaella once her mother departed, and she gulped, yet managed to hold his cold gaze.

“Yes, Prince Daemon.” Vaella had answered him, voice hard before she walked off, not knowing what to do with herself, until she spotted her brothers with their cousins. She decided to join them and share her condolences with the two girls, who were quietly crying into Jace and Luke’s shoulders, the boys awkwardly trying to comfort them. Daemon stood shocked as he watched the little girl, Rhaenyra’s firstborn, joining his daughters from Laena, and couldn’t help but think, how neither one of his daughters resembled him as much as Vaella did. His heart clenched and he knew he had to talk to Rhaenyra, ask her what was suddenly eating him alive. Vaella watched as the mystery man, who she looked so much like, stormed off, no surprise, to find her mother. Suddenly, in the young girl’s mind, everything started making sense. Why everyone looked at her with so much spite at the Red Keep whenever she said something harsh. Why people would whisper ‘bastard’ behind her back as she walked by them. And why, sometimes when the King would get drunk, would cup Vaella’s cheek and whisper Daemon’s name to her before stalking off, leaving her so confused. It all made sense now, and she couldn’t stop the few tears escaping her eyes as she hugged her two grieving cousins, offering them support like her brothers had done.

“Vaella, you are a woman like none other,” Daemon spoke up, bringing his daughter back into the present, as he took his armor off, “And you resemble your mother so much, the new and old Gods have truly blessed you—”

“Yet I don’t resemble her enough that people wouldn’t whisper bastard behind my back as a little girl growing up in this castle.” Vaella didn’t mean to be harsh, but she couldn’t help it. Being back here aggravated her, made her feel things she had been repressing for so long. She loved her father and mother, but she resented them for hiding the truth from her, for letting her feel confused for so long. She resented Daemon for not being there for her when she was scared, and had nobody to go to, a man, who would protect her. Prince Laenor was never there when she needed him most and in a perfect fantasy of hers, she imagined Daemon always being there for her.

“If I had known—if Rhaenyra would have told me, you know I would’ve been present in your life since the beginning—” Vaella cut him off with a loud sigh, looking above them, spotting the curious looking lords in the balcony looking down at them. They were talking quietly, but she was paranoid.

“But that wasn’t the case, father, and we can do nothing to change the past, we must accept it and move on. I’m trying to do just that, you should too.” Vaella’s words were firm as she stepped back from her father and started undoing the added leather for protection on her calves.

“Of course.” Daemon muttered and glanced up at the curious lords, sending them a glare before looking back at Vaella. They couldn’t have much privacy at this damned castle.

“Nyke gīmigon skoriot aōha pazavorve lays rȳ.” (I know where your loyalty lays at.) Daemon spoke up in High Valyrian, making sure no one but just the two of them would understand, “Yn nyke līs epagon lo ao jāhor nykeōragon ondoso aōha dāria daor matter se situation se outcome.” (But I must ask if you will stand by your Queen no matter the situation and outcome.)

Vaella stiffened and straightened her back, looking at her father fiercely, “Ao should feel ashamed asking such mirre hen issa!” (You should feel ashamed asking such thing from me!) She didn’t mean for her voice to raise, but she was outraged by her father’s foolish question.

“Rhaenyra iksos se mērī dāria nyke jāhor mirre support.” (Rhaenyra is the only Queen I will ever support.) Daemon saw no hesitation in his daughter, heard no hidden motives in her words. He knew he could trust her, but he needed to hear it. Nothing was certain anymore, and he couldn’t fight a war alone, without her on their side.

“Nyke feel ziry isse ñuha bones, tala, iā vīlībāzma iksis brewing.” (I feel it in my bones, daughter, a war is brewing.) Daemon sighed out, shaking his head as Vaella took off the other leather from her calf.

“Pār īlon kessa vīlībagon ziry.” (Then we shall fight it.) Vaella held her head high, bringing a proud smile on Daemon’s lips, “Se ērinagon ziry.” (And win it.)

“We shall.” Daemon repeated and walked up to his daughter, grabbing her shoulder. She looked at him with tired eyes, feeling her body begging her to take a hot bath and rest, tomorrow would be a straining day. Daemon smiled at Vaella before leaning in and kissing her forehead, wishing her good night, and departing to his chamber to rest for the night.

Vaella heaved a sigh and threw her leather protectors onto the ground roughly, pulling at her own bindings with no patience, wanting to be out of her armor. She didn’t care if the lords were still watching her, she was a soldier, not a gentle lady like those lords were used to seeing and being with. So, with a harsh tug, Vaella took her armor off herself and let it fall to the ground, making it clatter loudly. She couldn’t help but sigh out in relief, finally having the added weight off her, her muscles sore as she hadn’t fought in long while wearing armor. She had started mumbling about how Daemon kept her out here for too long, and now she couldn’t go apologize to her mother for going away unannounced, unaware of the approaching footsteps from behind her. She looked around, searching for her cloak as she wouldn’t leave without it, and the cold breeze of the night was making her sweaty skin shudder.

“Shouldn’t a princess be in her chambers at such late hour, niece?” Vaella went rigid as she stood up straight, recognizing the voice, and she turned around to face her uncle. Aemond was standing tall, not too far from her, as he took in her form, realizing she was wearing the same clothing from earlier today when they had seen each other for the first time in so long. Vaella didn’t wish to answer him, instead stared him down, making sure to glare at him, only amusing Aemond as her face wasn’t very clear due to the night, the torches weren’t strong enough to lit up well the courtyard.

Turning her back to him and snatching her cloak, finally having found it, she snapped at her uncle, “I was out training with my father, uncle.”

Aemond just hummed and watched her fumble with her cloak as she threw it around her shoulders, securing it around her neck. The deep burgundy of her cloak was irking Aemond’s eye as he looked back at his niece’s face, finding nothing but defiance on it. It made him smirk, he rarely met women who didn’t cover before him, frightened out of their minds, and actually held his gaze without ogling at his eyepatch. And why would Vaella do that? She was there that night, she saw it all, she saw him freshly wounded, and even dared to scream at him that he deserved it for trying to defend himself against her brothers, who had ganged up on him. It made Aemond’s blood boil as he let the memory overtake him.

“One last fight before you depart to your chamber, Princess?” Aemond’s lips curled at the ends as raised his right eyebrow at Vaella, watching her every move, analyzing her every reaction. Vaella sucked in a deep breath, suddenly her heart beating quickly at the question. Her muscles were burning, her arms barely able to raise after the hours she had done training with Daemon. She wanted to say yes and punch that smug look off of her uncle’s face, but as a well-mannered princess, she had to decline. It was unacceptable that she was out here, unchaperoned by one of her guards, despite not needing one, so late in the night. While she was with her father it was alright, but the lords still haven’t gone from their balcony, finding this exchange more intriguing than the training with her father, waiting to spread gossip the next day. So no, she had to say no.

“Good night, Prince.” Vaella slightly bowed her head as she brushed past Aemond. Despite there being plenty of space, she wanted to show him that she wasn’t afraid of a little challenge, she just had to protect her own image while at the Red Keep. Wouldn’t want to add fuel to the already lingering fire.

“Sepār hae ēdan suspected, ao ābrar jorrāelagon naejot ȳdragon se challenge īlva vali, yn gaomagon ao mirre drējī iōragon bē syt yourselves?” (Just as I had suspected, you women love to talk and challenge us men, but do you ever truly stand up for yourselves?) Aemond’s words made Vaella stop so fast that she let out a quiet groan, her muscles straining. Her ears started ringing as her uncle’s words replayed in her mind, but she had enough self-control to will herself to move again.

“Iksā dekurūbare qrīdrughagon kesrio syt iksā zūgagon. Ao gīmigon nyke would defeat ao, niece.” (You are walking away because you are afraid. You know I would defeat you, niece.) Vaella tried not to see red in front of her eyes, but couldn’t. Not when Aemond was disrespecting her so casually and plainly. Her feet stopped and she took in a deep breath, feeling her chest rise and then slowly fall, as she let out that breath.

“Iksan daor zūgagon!” (I am not afraid!) Vaella couldn’t control the volume of her voice, she made the lords jump in the balcony with her loud shout, as she stormed back towards her uncle. He stood his ground, eyebrow raised as he watched his niece amused, suddenly red in the face after being accused by him of cowardly. Apparently, he still knew what to say to make her tick. Vaella had changed, but apparently, her temper and ego hadn’t.

“Se kesā sagon begging nyke naejot keligon.” (And you will be begging me to stop.) Vaella’s voice was grave as she stood, squaring up her uncle, staring up in his eye due to their close proximity. Aemond suddenly became serios, reaching up to undo the binding of his cloak.

“I take it we will fight then, niece.” He whispered, voice low yet so mischievous and challenging, it drove Vaella mad as she was fuming. She knocked her shoulder into his as she went back to her previous spot, where she had been searching for her cloak, and unclasped it, letting it fall onto the ground. She grabbed the hair tie off her wrist and messily tied her hair in a low bun, strands of hair sticking out in all directions, some didn’t even make it inside the bun, but she didn’t care as she drew her sword from its socket, holding it pointed towards Prince Aemond. He had abandoned his cloak as well, his own sword in his hand, as he came to stand in front of Princess Vaella.

“Will you not wear your armor, dear niece? Aren’t you afraid your perfect, fragile, skin might be cut—”

“I have fought battles without wearing armor, uncle, and I came out unscathed.” Vaella laughed, sarcasm dripping in her voice, “You should be the one afraid for their fragile, human skin.”

“You are forgetting I am a Targaryen myself, Princess.” Aemond snapped at the obvious jab of Vaella’s, wishing to slash her throat, but so far, they had been circling each other only, undecided who was the prey and who was praying on them.

“Half Targaryen, Prince.” Vaella’s voice was loud as she made sure even the lords would hear her and she could hear them whispering, oh, how sweet the gossip tomorrow would be, she couldn’t wait. Aemond had seemingly had enough of Vaella’s taunting and decided to strike first, aggressively and merciless, as his blow sent Vaella stumbling back. His force was amazing, Vaella imagined he was weaker as his tall, lanky body seemed to have less force than the actual he had in himself. She braced herself, willing her mind to ignore the burning of her muscles as adrenaline started rushing through her, making her smirk to herself. She saw Aemond trying to land another strike, so she jumped first, raising her sword and bringing it down on him, making Aemond hiss as he barely was able to deflect her blow. Vaella chuckled and bowed her head in a mocking apology, making Aemond strike again harshly, aiming for her legs, trying to throw her off balance. But it didn’t work as Vaella blocked each and every of his attacks, their swords clashing against each other loudly as both of them were grunting due to the force they were putting into the fight. And so, it was established, Aemond was the one who attacked and Vaella was the one who had to defend herself, from time to time, gaining a bit of advantage as she managed to corner Aemond with her strong blows, yet never managed to disarm him. It was becoming tiring and Vaella was starting to get frustrated as all she wished for was to fall into her puffy bed and let her body rest, but when Aemond managed to slice the sleeve of her shirt, it snapped her back from her body’s wants, and broke her patience. She was done playing the victim, defending herself from his ruthless blows. She took charge, going at him, and striking him from each and every side she could, twisting her body and making Aemond defend like he has never before. His long hair was getting in the way of his good eye as Vaella kept circling him and attempting jabs at him, and he was growing frustrated, wanting to disarm her to prove his point to her. But Vaella was just not letting him gain advantage and he could help but let out a frustrated cry as he jumped forward, making Vaella retaliate, as she didn’t see his sudden, stupid, attack coming. And because she was taken off guard, Aemond managed to knock the sword out of her hold, making her hiss when her wrist suffered the strain of the blow. He didn’t just knock the sword out of her hold, but ripped it out. Their chests were rising and falling quickly, both of them sweaty, and out of breath as they gazed into each other’s eyes, waiting for the other to make the next move. Technically, Vaella had lost, but Aemond wasn’t making the final move, as if he couldn’t actually believe he had won. But he had, in his mind, at least. And with a smug smirk, he allowed his body to relax as he slowly started raising his sword from the ground to point it at Vaella’s neck. But this was exactly what Vaella was waiting for, and she almost laughed when in a swift movement, while raising her leg to knock it into Aemond’s wrist to knock his sword out of his hold, she also went and grabbed the dagger hidden inside her boot. When Aemond’s sword clattered to the ground he had no time to feel shocked or try to even retrieve it, because he found himself tackled onto the hard ground, grunting as the back of his head collided with the sandy concrete. He looked up at his niece as her body pinned his down against the ground, legs around his hips as she pushed all her body weight on him, and he gulped. This was something new. He had never been put down by a woman, let alone a light one as his niece, who had him struggling to stand up, yet couldn’t. His fidgeting came to a sudden stop when Vaella’s dagger was pointed against his neck, lightly pushing against his skin. He let out a breath, looking up at the Princess with an almost defeated look on his face. Vaella, well versed in hand-to-hand combat, knew how to keep a man pinned against the ground, and made sure she left no options that could help Aemond get up and continue their fight. Now, Vaella was the one who won, Aemond didn’t have a second weapon like she did. The fight was over. Won by her. She gazed into Aemond’s eye with smugness, pressing her dagger a bit more into his skin, raising her eyebrows at him.

“What do you say, uncle—” But her words got swallowed, when Aemond suddenly pressed his neck against her dagger, scaring her that he was trying to slice his own neck, making her draw it back just slightly, offering Aemond a small opening so that he could grab her other dagger out of her boot. Before she could register what had happened, she only felt her other dagger being pulled from her boot and she had her own dagger pressing against her neck, Aemond being the one with a smug smirk on his face this time. Vaella couldn’t mask her shock as her eyes ran all over Aemond’s face, trying to think of her next move, what she should do. However, she made the mistake of softening her body, not pressing Aemond against the ground with all of her weight anymore, offering him the chance to move around freely. And so, Aemond decided to sit up swiftly, holding Vaella close to himself by her middle, as they had her daggers pressing against each other’s throats.

“I say it’s a draw, niece.” His voice was low as he breathed out his words, the two of them so close they could feel each other’s breaths on their faces. Vaella’s mind had gone blank, she felt like she couldn’t breathe or think all of a sudden. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t help but notice how firmly Aemond was holding her against himself, how she felt his thighs tensing underneath her, how her eyes were suddenly on his curled lips. No, she must’ve been losing her mind. Aemond tried to ignore how Vaella seemed to fit so well against his body and in a different scenario, they could’ve been snuggled up against each other like this. But Vaella finally caught herself and snapped out of her traitorous thoughts and drew her dagger back from Aemond’s neck, scurrying up and as far away as possible from Aemond. She refused to acknowledge all the thoughts that had just ran through her mind while she was sitting on top of him, she refused. It never happened, or else she’d hate herself until the day she dies. Aemond suddenly seemed to be robbed of the warmth he had been feeling prior, making it realize that it was Vaella who had been emitting it. Just as he had looked up at her, he saw a hand offered for him to take. He grabbed onto Vaella’s hand, who helped him up wordlessly, both of them trying to ignore the firm grip they seemed to have and their bodies reactions to it. Vaella quickly let go of his warm and large hand once Aemond stood on his feet. Aemond couldn’t help but notice his heart racing as he had felt Vaella’s soft skin against his battered one.

“Your daggers have been nicely crafted,” Aemond found his voice as he looked at his niece’s dagger, inspecting it closely. Of course, it had the emblem of the Targaryen’s on it and the handle was decorated with three blood-red stones, “Small, sharp, and vicious.”

Vaella knew he was talking about her daggers, but couldn’t help think he was describing her. She wasn’t small, however, maybe once had been, but once she grew she towered over most men, only the really tall ones could look down on her. And it just so happened that Aemond was almost a head taller than her. She refused to look at him as Aemond handed her dagger back, searching her face to see a reaction or something, but Vaella had blanked. All she wanted to do was lay in her bed and forget that this whole fight even happened. Once both of her daggers were in her hands, she grabbed her sword and walked up to get her cloak, but didn’t bother to put it on, as she stormed past her uncle, making sure to keep her distance as the feel of his body was still fresh in her mind.

Aemond grabbed his own cloak and gazed after his niece, securing his sword against his hip as he took off towards the city, needing to blow off some steam. Her soft skin forever engraved inside his mind.

↳Next part (to be posted)

#bvidzsoo #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond x targaryen! reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x oc #aemond targaryen enemies to lovers

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artistic-shapeshifter · 10 months

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Faes of the Stars

Here's the first bit of my au story! Rather short but this story is separated in 3 chapters for now, then I plan to post short story adventures and drabbles to explore the world and au while I think on the actual story more. Enjoy~!

Chapter 1:

Faes Lost

The harsh wind of the storm abused the foliage of the forest, the rain falling in sheets. The only source of light was the occasional strike of lightning.

One pink dragon, colored like the aurora, panted hard as she held an egg to her chest, another youngling in her mouth. She looked left and right as if searching for something. She then darted into a large bushy canopy, hidden off the path. She set the egg down and then her youngling

“Eclipse, I need you to stay right here with your sibling,you understand me?”

“B-but mom-“

“Please sweetheart! This is the best way I can keep you safe! I’ll come back for you as soon as I can. I promise…”

“W-will you be ok?”

“Of course my little one…” she had pressed noses with the drakling and licked his face.

“Please, don’t move and don’t make a sound, use the mud and flowers to mask your scent and keep your glow down, you hear me? Those cats mustn’t catch a sniff or sound of you.”

“I understand mom..”

“Good…I’ll get the Queen and be back by the morning light…stay safe and stay quiet..”

The dragon had then fled, leaving her babies hidden and leading away the cats that hunted them.

“COME HERE FAE!!”

“TRESPASSER! YOU DRAGONS KNOW THE DEAL! ZYTRIX WILL HAVE YOUR WINGS!!”

Eclipse whimpered quietly as the yelling died down. The thickness of the trees protected him and his unborn sibling from the cold and rain. Eclipse curled around the egg, shutting his eyes and dozing off to wait for his mothers return…

But she never did…

Hours passed. Night become morning, morning became afternoon. Afternoon became evening

Another large beast strolled through the mud and wet grass. Another dragon, furry with the face of a canine. Her sea green eyes scanned the area. The storm had done its damage.

Her large ears suddenly flicked when she heard a sound and blinked. She knew the cat clan was here…she could smell them everywhere.

Lowering her body to prepare for an attack in case she needed to, she crept toward the sound slowly…she peeked into the foliage…and stared wide eyed at the sight in front of her. A young drakling, a rusty gold color with a black stripe down its black, large orange frills on the sides of its head, surrounding like a Lion, and the frilled crest on top, blue and purple in color. She took note of the insect like wings and antennae. It was curled around something too…practically protecting it.

A young Fae dragon…out here? What had happened to the others, she wondered. It was then the youngun took notice of the intruder and gasped before trying to hide more into the canopy.

“Hey hey…easy there.” She crooned softly. “You lost hun? Ya need help? Where’s your momma?”

Eclipse gulped, wrapping his tail around the egg. “I-I don’t know…she said she’d be here but…” the little starry fae dragon’s gold and red mismatched eyes watered at the thought that entered his mind next.

“I…I think the cats got her…”

The draconic hound pinned her ears back. Zytrix’s group…the territorial felines would demand food or a life toward anyone that trespassed in their lands.

“It’s okay honey…” she assured. “My names Ana, what’s yours?”

“E-E-Eclipse…”

“Eclipse huh? That’s a strong name. Why don’t you come with me Hm? I can bring ya right to the queen of dragons herself and we’ll figure something out. Get some warm food in yer belly too. Does that sound good?” Ana asked, keeping a soft smile on her muzzle.

Eclipse lifted his head, opening up a bit more to the dragoness standing over him. He nodded slowly, feeling the grumbling start up in his belly at the mere mention of a good meal.

Ana hummed a chuckle, she noticed what Eclipse had been protecting this whole time too. A single egg. Blue and gold with sparkles like stars. She frowned lightly.

“That your baby brother or sister huh?”

Eclipse looked down at the egg and nodded.

“Mom wanted me to keep them safe…”

Ana nodded. “You’re very brave hun…may I?” She asked, holding out a paw. Eclipse looked at it, seeming to think…then he nodded and uncurled around the egg. Ana took it in her arm and held it to her chest, against her warm fur.

“Okay, are you able to walk honey? Or should I carry you?”

Eclipse shook his head, his frills shaking slightly from the movement. “I can walk!”

Ana smiled and chuckled again at the draklings willingness to do things himself.

“Alright, stay close to me. Let’s get you somewhere safe hm?”

Eclipse nodded again, rather happy to be with someone willing to help and protect them. He trotted alongside Ana as she led him out of the forest and toward the kingdom.

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airi-p4 · 2 years

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Hate it more than second chances - Ch 2

Following this post and my ‘Ryuko hates Viperion and Second Chances’ headcanon... Here’s more ViperRyuko!

Greatly inspired by Katy’s art.

For @katydoodles

Just Viperion and Ryuko, ‘(fr)enemies’, defeating an akuma.

AO3

________________________________

Ryuko was getting impatient. Not only had she received orders from Ladybug to wait for her partner. She hated working with a partner especially if-

“Sorry for the wait” said said partner, no other than Viperion: the hero she hated the most. “I count on you-”

She quickly drew her sword to his throat when she noticed his hand set over his wrist. “No second chances. I don’t need to cheat in order to win”

“Ok, ok” he said, raising both hands to surrender, “but put that down” his eyes signaled the sword.

“Fine” she responded, and noticing he wasn’t moving his hand back there, she withdrew her threatening weapon. “Don’t get in my way! Let’s go!”

She jumped first and when she turned back to check on him… that damn Viperion smirked.

Tsk. She hated his power. Second chance? They’re for the weak- for cheaters! You don’t get those in real life. You don’t get those when you’re a Tsurugi… They’re giving people useless hope, and they only bring you disappointment. She knew that not only from what she had been told all her life, but also from her own experience.

She never stuck a second chance.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Viperion was catching her up. In consequence and due to her competitiveness, she jumped higher and increased her pace. She smiled when he wasn’t as close as before. ‘Pathetic’

“Watch out! To your right!” He yelled.

Dammit. His voice enraged her. With her great reflexes and keen eyesight, she dodged the attack as soon as she visualized it. The flying object came directly from the front, so out of pettiness, she decided to dodge to her left instead. She smirked proudly to herself.

“Ryuko, duck!” he said immediately after. She wasn’t sure if he was playing games with her but a flying rubber back came towards her direction, stretching flat as it got closer to the pair of heroes. Again, Ryuko disobeyed his commands and jumped instead of going below the object. ‘ Easy ’ she internally hummed.

“Beware of the lighting pole!” was his next scream. There was a long pole falling towards her, sparks coming out of the broken cables, and she was aware Viperion was too far behind to make it on time. ‘ Not that I needed him,’ she thought. Far ahead, she could see the akuma, its air cannon connected to the electricity cable. An idea sparked in her mind. “I’ve got you”

She called her lighting dragon power, became thunder and introduced herself inside the cable. As electricity, she ran towards the akuma and destroyed its akumatized object from inside. When Viperion finally arrived, the black butterfly was already released and flying to the sky. It didn’t take long until Ladybug caught and purified it.

“I told you we didn’t need your stupid power” Ryuko bragged, raising her chin proudly.

“Well done,” he said at Ryuko's accomplishment. But far from accepting defeat, the snake miraculous hero had a smirk on his face. For some reason, it irritated her. She knew why- It was her win. Why wasn’t he angry about his defeat?

She wanted SO BAD to wipe that sassy smile from his face.

With Chat Noir back (he had been hit by the akuma) and the magical ladybugs having repaired the damages, Ladybug approached, fist raised for the heroes’ iconic celebration fist bump.

“Pound it” they all said in unison.

The four of them moved to jump, all towards different directions. But Ryuko paused just before leaving, to look at Viperion as he disappeared from her vision.

Something was off.

The way he smirked, and how he seemed to be holding his laugh…

Why was he acting like it was his win instead of hers? He did nothing at all! Useless as usual! But then- what was bugging her…?

She recalled his arrival and when they bumped fists just now…

His Miraculous.

The head of the snake had changed during this time interval, with it being closer to its end. So then, his words…

Her brows furrowed, mouth half opening, offended as she realized: He had said those commands on purpose, knowing she wouldn’t follow them.

The jackass not only had used his power prior to his arrival, but he also manipulated her in order to win.

Moving ahead as her Miraculous beeped, her knuckles turned white. “I can’t believe I lost to this weak stupid ‘second chance’ cheater!”

She hated him even more, now. But she hated herself the most for falling to notice his manipulative tactics.

DAMN BASTARD.

#my fic #airip4 #lukagami #lukagami fic #viperyuko

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ramblinganthropologist · 2 years

Text

Fictober 22 - 2 and 3 (Cold and Death)

Dragon Age Inquisition

Summary: Unsurprisingly, coming back from Tranquility isn’t easy. Trevy is finding that one out the hard way. It looks like the Chantry took more from her than she thought, and there are things she’ll probably never get back. But if she can’t go back... maybe she can go ahead.

Time to pick a specialization, Trevy. You better get a strong stomach and quick.

(Tw: mentions of tranquility, nothing extreme)

---

Some days, Trevy wished she had appreciated not being able to feel the cold. Oh well, hindsight was 20-20.

The mage shivered as she drew her cloak closer, trying to cover the few bits of vulnerable skin that peeked through her defenses. In Haven, it didn’t matter how well you covered, though – the wind would rip through even the staunchest defenses, chilling those caught outside right down to the bone as they made their way from post to post in the hopes of not freezing where they stood.

It was a miserable place, all things considered – but at least they were miserable together. Templars, mages, and everyone in between hated the cold just the same as the person next to them as they tried to avoid breaking an ankle on the ice on their way to the tavern after duty. Some might consider it the great equalizer – she didn’t. She couldn’t, not after what her former jailers had done to her.

Speaking of – the brand on her forehead throbbed underneath its thick layer of bandages. Trevy’s eyes watered and she slapped a gloved hand to the surface on instinct. That only made it hurt worse, and soon the tears were trickling down her face, bringing more with every second. A sob threatened to work its way through her throat, but she bit it down as she rushed along to where she had been heading.

Ever since she had been released from Tranquility, it hurt. It hurt a lot. Maybe that was to be her reminder of what they had done to her, something to keep her from getting complacent around the soggy forms of the Templars huddled around the fires for warmth. Even if her mind tried to forget, her body sure wouldn’t.

Neither would her new vulnerability to the cold.

“It took you long enough to get here, Trevelyan.” The woman waiting for her at the door to the practice building worn a stern look and the robes of a former teacher. She had probably seen countless mage apprentices late to lessons – what was one more? “Oh, Maker, were you crying again?”

Trevy sniffed as she used the sleeve of her robe to wipe her eyes before the tears froze. “Can’t help it… it started hurting again.”

No doubt if there had been mages in the room, they would’ve been looking away at this point. After all, no mage likes a reminder of what they so easily could have become if they had taken one wrong step during their time in the tower. She had been as much a worker as a stark reminder of the penalties that awaited circle mages if they so much as put a toe out of line. The Templar that had watched over the Ostwick Tranquil had once called them the great deterrents, though it had been lost of her then.

That Templar and her fellow Tranquil were also lost now – buried in the explosion that took out the tower, or among the countless dead from the war. It was only for the former mages that she gave quiet prayer to a god she would love to spit at – the rest got a curse from the depths of her marked soul.

But at any rate, it was because of her reactions and just how uncomfortable she made mages that her training was a strictly one-on-one affair. She hadn’t requested it of course – they had. Something about a former Tranquil with a staff made people nervous. It made her laugh, though not too hard. If they were worried, how did they think she felt about the whole thing? As far as she knew, she was the only one to come back from the other side and be able to tell the tale. Call her a test dummy, call her fated, whatever it was… it was weird.

And it hurt. Had she mentioned that yet?

“Well, when it calms down you can take up your staff. I asked around, and they said before you…” the woman couldn’t say it. No one in robes could – it stuck in their throats and refused to escape. In the end, she shook her head. “Anyway, an Ostwick mage said you used to be an ice mage. I want to see if you can still do it.”

Trevy hung up her cloak on the wall and made a grab for her staff. Well, it wasn’t her staff if she was being honest. Instead, it was just a stock tool that they gave to apprentices before they figured out their specializations. She had enchanted plenty of them during her time under the brand, to the point she knew every angle of the smooth wood under her hand as she rolled it. Nothing special about it, but it let the caster figure out what they could do.

It was time for her to go from crafter to caster… no pressure.

Her teacher cleared to the side of the room, giving her space. Trevy was now all alone in the center, holding her borrowed staff and praying for a miracle. Logically, she knew the steps to summon ice. Back before the brand, she had almost been a primal prodigy, summoning ice since she was in the single digits. It had been one of the first spells she had ever figured out as a child, practically part of her muscle memory.

It should have been easy, effortless. However, sweat trickled down her brow as she faced the practice target. Her fingers rolled down the staff as she took a deep breath, closing her eyes to search for the path to her mana supplies.

Back in the day, it had been a path of glittering ice, rock hard and shining in an unseen light. As she walked along it, it had tinkled under her feet and summoned snowflakes with every step. Then there was the heart – a giant crystal of pure ice, so thick none could break it.

Yet… nothing was there but darkness. The ground was rocky and dark, with deep score marks that she could have fallen into. The light was gone, there was no snow to greet her, and her feet cracked along the ground.

And at the heart? Nothing but a gaping hole where her crystal had once been, scarred with the brand of the sun.

Her eyes snapped open and she dropped the staff. Sweat was pouring down her forehead as she backed away, breaking into a run. She barely remembered to grab for her cloak, haphazardly pulling it on as the teacher called for her to get back there. However, Trevy ignored it as she ran out of the building and down the road that would take her away from Haven.

Her feet took her to the nearby woods, where most people wouldn’t have gone during the cold weather. She eventually collapsed on a tree stump, tears streaming down her face. No matter how she tried to forget, the sight of the barren, scorched earth marked by the sign of the chantry would never leave her.

There was no use trying ice magic ever again. It had been burnt away by the brand in a desire to keep her in line.

Trevy’s tears trickled into the snow as she sobbed, body shaking. Before that moment, she’d had some hope that perhaps her magic would return to her with time and practice. It had been a small one, beaten down by logic and reality slapping her in the face, but it had been something she had held on tightly to in the nights where the brand pulsed and she felt fire in her veins.

Yet, she could no longer deny it as she sat there in that frozen forest. She could train and try for a thousand years and the ice would never return. The Chantry had gotten her in the end, just like they had hoped. Even free from Tranquility, she would never escape what they had done to her. Much like the burn on her forehead, her very being was forever scarred.

Was it even worth going on?

It was a thought that kept stabbing at her on the bad days as of late, especially during the nights she couldn’t sleep. But that was at night, in the dark when her eyes burned and her forehead throbbed. This was the daytime – she should have been ok.

But she wasn’t.

“I hate this.” She choked back a sob, rubbing her frozen sleeve against her soggy face. “Should’ve just stayed behind to die.”

It was certainly looking more attractive as she sat there, a soggy mess on that icy stump in a dead forest. At least then, she wouldn’t have known the pain that came with the broken brand and the frustration that came with it. She wouldn’t know what the disgusted looks of the mages would be like as she passed, trying to keep herself calm.

Maybe it would have been better…

But Trevy knew she couldn’t. Instead, she wiped off her face and did her best to calm her breathing. As she came back to her senses, the cold returned full force and stung her exposed skin. The pain was a great reminder – she stood.

“I’m… going to have to apologize for that I guess.” She sighed, shoulders sagging. There was a lot of that lately too. “Better head back…”

With uneasy steps, Trevy started to leave the woods. The ice and snow crackled under her feet as she picked her way through the barely walked path. It was unpleasant, and she winced at the sound. This was the kind of ice she had never liked – it was too brittle. So she shifted and climbed off into the ankle deep snow instead.

It was thanks to that she saw it.

“Is that a skull?” Trevy cocked her eyebrow as she squinted. Off in the distance, a break in the canopy was allowing gray light to filter through the branches and illuminate a patch of ground. There was something there, white and hard. Curiosity got the better of her, and she stumbled over towards it.

Just like she thought, it had been the skull of some creature left there by predators that had picked its skeleton clean. Most of the bones were there as far as she could tell, though she had no idea how to count them. Skeletons had never been her interest – she had sought out the ice after all.

But… the way the light caught the dark holes of the eye sockets drew her towards it. She had to wonder what it had been in life as she knelt down. It was too small for a bear or a wild cat, but even she knew enough to see it wasn’t something like a rabbit. The teeth looked sharp, but plenty of things had sharp teeth…

Her hand hesitated inches from the skull. Trevy blinked as she realized she had left the path altogether and was standing in deep snow, shivering. Even she knew this was stupid. If she’d had any sense in her head, she would head back to Haven proper.

But her sense had abandoned her as she stared down as the pile of bones. Something was drawing her there.

“Maker, I hope you’re not a demon.” Those were the last words she spoke as her fingers brushed against the bones. Immediately, it was like a live wire had run through her arm, making her vision go white. A soundless bell rung through her head as the air was knocked from her lungs, and she could see nothing.

Nothing but a path in front of her.

This wasn’t the path back to Haven – that was normal stone and rock. Here, the flagstones were shoulder blades and other flat bones, the rows marked with the long ones she didn’t know the names for. Everything was done in shades of white, black, and a cool purple that reminded her of night. There was no sound but crows as she walked along, bones tinkling under her feet.

The path took her to a dark purple crystal, filled with a pulsing energy. In front of it stood a skeleton, reassembled with its missing parts filled in with violet energy. Two globes of purple light stared out at her from empty eye sockets, and what had once been a bushy tail waved as she approached.

“What…” Words failed her as she felt herself drawn to the crystal. “Is… all of this is necromancy, isn’t it?”

She knew the field from listening to her cousin – hopefully alive somewhere – going on and on about his lessons when they had been younger. He had described his own source of magic as a sort of graveyard filled with animated skeletons. If this was to be her center, it was far more austere, almost somber.

Then again… he had developed his magic. She was just beginning.

The skeletal creature approached her, stopping at her feet. Those glowing eyes focused on her, and she swore it was sizing her up. Trevy wasn’t really sure what it wanted from her, but she couldn’t look away.

“I don’t know anything about necromancy, you know…” she knelt down, hand reaching out. “I was Tranquil… you’d have better results from someone else.”

Her vision didn’t waver. Apparently, it had made its decision on the matter. The only thing left was for her to agree to the terms. Had this been days, even hours prior, she would have hesitated. Yet even as she sat there, she remembered where the ice had once been, and the burning brand that remained.

It might have been a strange sight… but it was free from the brand. It was hers, to do with as she wanted. All she had to do was accept it.

Her hand found the top of the skull, where the ears had once been. “Be patient with me, I’ve got a lot to learn.”

As soon as her fingers brushed the bone, the violet light exploded around her with a rush of wind and the crunching of skeletons. When the light cleared, she was back in the clearing, freezing cold as snow began to fall all around her.

The creature stood assembled in front of her – she was pretty sure it had been a fox when it was alive.

A strange smile crossed her face as she stood. “I guess you should follow me back… hope you don’t mind being my training dummy, I don’t exactly know where necromancers get their bone supplies from.”

Together, Trevy and the skeleton started their walk back. No doubt there would be a thousand questions that led to even more when she returned, a reanimated corpse following at her heels. She had no idea how to answer any of them, but she was happy to try.

It was cold, no doubt about it… but she was slowly growing used to it. She doubted she would ever be truly comfortable with the ice and snow, but there was nothing unique about that. The memory, that she would never forget… but she was slowly starting to accept that some things would never return.

Life didn’t go backwards after all. Yet, she was beginning to see that if she couldn’t go back to who she had once been, to her old power, perhaps she could seek what lay ahead. Maybe her new friend would help.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to learn to like robbing graves and picking up carrion, though. Her stomach wasn’t the strongest. Maybe that was why she had never really looked into necromancy…

#writober22 #Aeronwen Trevelyan #inquisitor trevelyan

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teddy06writes · 3 years

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A Night In Las Vegas

requested by this anon: “I had the BEST idea: CC!Quackity came up with the idea of his Las Nevadas character arc after going to Las Vegas and meeting Reader there. Maybe one night the reader decides to go and twitch and finds quackity doing a lore stream and the reader is like: no way, it’s the guy I met in Vegas.”

{I love this concept, sorry it took so long for me to get out}

Quackity x reader

trigger warnings: some swears

premise: after getting ditched by your friends on the last night of your long weekend in vegas you run into a very interesting guy who doesn’t hesitate to befriend you. But what happens months later when he still seems to be running circles in your mind?

{covid don’t exist here, no sir}

{for the sake of the story, readers favorite color is blue, if its not, either pretend it is, or get over it}

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10:34pm

“You can’t just- you can’t kick me out!” You yelled.

Your bestfriend laughed, “Just find somewhere to go for a few hours! Me and Hunter want alone time!”

“A few fucking hours!?! Seriously?!” But your duffle bag had already been thrown at your feet, and the hotel door room was swinging closed, muffled giggles coming from inside.

Groaning, you picked up your bag, where were you supposed to go now?

“Not that I was like- listening in or anything- but damn that sucks.”

You jumped turning to see a man with black hair sticking out of his beanie standing in front of the door diagonal from yours.

“Uh- yeah. Last night in Vegas and I get ditched for a random hook up,” You scoffed, “I should’ve known it would happen.”

“That’s not cool, uh- I’m Alex.” He stepped forward, offering his hand.

Somewhat reluctantly, you shook his hand, “(y/n).”

He nodded, “I was going to head out for a late night wander, find something to do-, preferably away from all the hookups that seem to be happing around us right now. If you want to come.”

You glanced around, “Seriously?”

“Oh- god that did sound kinda creepy didn’t it,” Alex scrubbed a hand over his face, “Sorry- I- you can just forget about this then-”

“No! I mean- You don’t seem like a rapist or anything. I’ll come with.”

He grinned, “Poggers, you can, leave that, in my room, if you want. Just seems like a pain to lug around everywhere.”

You bit your lip, “Leaving my belongings in a strangers room while I go with said stranger to find something interesting to do, sure- why not?”

10:57pm

Somehow, you found yourself wandering out of the hotel lobby, and onto the crowded streets along side Alex.

“So.... whats your favorite color?” He asked as you walked.

You laughed, “What?”

“We’re like, total strangers- it was a question, to get to know you.” He tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Oh, well-” before you could finish your sentence, there was a large amount of gasps and yells from the crowd in front of you.

“What’s going on?” Alex asked quietly.

You craned your neck to look over the crowd, gasping, “The water show! With the fountains outside of Caesar’s Palace!” You grabbed his hand, tugging him with you to push through the crowd, “This was the whole reason I agreed to this trip- but we never got to it!”

You shoved your way through the crowd until you got to the front, pressing against the barrier to watch the fountain display.

“Holy shit.” You heard him mutter from beside you.

You grinned, “It’s impressive right?”

“Imagine the coding it would take to get those things to stay on time.”

11:27pm

After the show had ended, you had kept wandering for a while, up the strip, asking various questions back and forth.

You had found out that he was a Minecraft youtuber and a law student, though you’d had to admit, you weren’t too knowledgeable on either that subject.

Now you were both staring up at the Dave and Busters sign, “This is a good idea right?”

He nodded, “Definitely. Come on, I’d bet I could beat you at skee ball!”

Laughing, you followed him into the building, and up the stairs toward the arcade entrance, “Your on!”

After buying the credit cards for access to the games, you grabbed his hand, dragging him over to the skee ball lanes.

“Lets go!” He shouted, a few minutes later, upon realizing your score was a total of 10 points behind his, “I’m popping off!”

You laughed, “Okay, what game’s next?”

Nearly an hour later, you had both run out of credits, and laughing, made you way up to the prize area.

“Do you think its possible to compile our tickets?” He asked.

“Why?”

You followed his pointing finger to the large stuffed dragons sitting on one shelf.

“We need him.” You said immediately.

After picking out a bright red dragon, you began to argue over the name as you made your way to the counter.

“What about Carl?” You suggested.

He shook his head, “I have a friend named Karl.”

“How ‘bout........ Phil?”

“I also know a Phil.”

“Hmmmm, what about Sebastian?”

“He doesn’t look like a Sebastian!”

You frowned, “Well do you have any ideas then?”

Alex thought for a moment, “Albert.”

You looked down at the dragon, “Albert it is.”

At the counter Alex convinced the reluctant worker to allow you to use both the cards credit totals, and then you went happily on your way out of the building, stopping to take a picture of Albert in front of the sign, which Alex posted to twitter with the comment of, “Look at our son!”

You’d staid mostly out of frame, but he managed to get about half of your side, since you were the one holding Albert.

“Do you think any pf the buffets are still open?” Alex asked.

“I hope so, I’m starving.” You giggled.

~~ 12:06am

The buffet was somewhat deserted, and you and Alex had grabbed seats in one of the corners after getting plates full of food.

Albert sat on the table between you as you talked.

“So it’s roleplay- but in Minecraft?” You asked, barley holding back a laugh.

He nodded, chuckling, “It sounds stupid, I know, but it’s like- huge. Especially since technically I’m getting back into the main lore now, with the whole project: vegas thing.”

“Project Vegas?” You asked.

He nodded again, “My character, he’s been through almost everything that's happened, and everything always ends to blow up in his face, literally sometimes. He’s built contries from the ground up- as stupid as that sounds- but they always fail, but this one won’t fail.

“I’m partnering with another guy on the server to set up a whole economy, he’s making a bank, and I’m making- well I’m making my own Vegas.”

You took a sip of your drink, “What’s it going to be called?”

“I haven’t figured it out yet,” He admitted, “I wanted to just call it Las Vegas but the names already taken.”

With a chuckle you shifted in your seat, “What about....- what about Las Nevada's?”

He laughed, “I like that.”

“Tell me more about this server then, I still don’t understand the story.”

With another chuckle he launched into the story, “Well, it all started when this guy called Wilbur Soot decided he wanted to start a nation....”

~~ 3:18am

“Blue.”

You were back at the hotel now, still with Quackity, sitting out on the balcony of his room. Some how, you had ended up having some slightly deep talk about life and death and a million other things before lapsing into silence, simply watching the blinking lights of the city.

“What?” He asked softly.

“You asked me my favorite color, ten minutes after we met. It’s blue- that's my favorite color.” You shivered against a cold breeze.

Alex shifted minutely closer, “Why?”

You shrugged, “It can be so many things. Deep and dark and mysterious but also light like the summer sky and filled with hope. There’s a million shades from happiness to anger, and to everyone it could mean something else.”

“I like that.” He said quietly.

7:04am

You yawned, rubbing sleep out of your eyes as the car drew closer to the airport.

Alex tapped on the steering wheel in time with the music, quietly humming along.

“Oh, I see my friend, they actually waited for me.” You said as the car pulled up to the curb.

“How considerate.” He chuckled, climbing out of the car.

You followed suit, retrieving your duffle bag from the back seat.

“Well, it was cool knowing you Alex.” You said.

“Likewise.”

Before you started to walk away you remembered, and quickly turned back to where he was standing, pulling Albert out of your bag, “Here, he’s yours. You spent more tickets on him than I did.”

He shook his head, “Keep him. I give you full custody of our son.”

“Oh- okay... bye then.”

You barley made it a few steps before he was quickly catching up to you, grabbing your arm and spinning you to press his lips on yours.

“Good luck with your shitty friends.” He breathed, before hurrying back to his car, leaving you flustered and running to catch up to your friend.

One and A Half Months later

It had been over a month since the Vegas trip, but you still hadn’t gotten Alex out of your head.

You had clicked, on some level, and the late night conversation you had shared seemed to keep you thinking about him.

Now, you scrolled aimlessly through twitter, checking the trending tags until you came across one called “LAS NEVADAS”

Now that piqued your interest, and clicking on it, you found posts of people live tweeting an event- no a live stream. And not just any live stream- a Minecraft stream.

Quickly you opened a new tab, pulling up twitch as fast as you could.

What was the name of his channel? Oh god why did you forget?

Returning to twitter you searched until you found a link, following it to a new twitch tab.

And there he was.

The boy who had been doing laps around your mind was actually there, talking to another character.

“Look Sam, you and me, we could control everything. I need the bank to help fund Las Nevada’s, we can be partners.”

You sat, watching the stream, enthralled.

Once it had ended, you still could hardly believe you found him, quickly following another link back to his twitter and opening a direct message.

Y/n: Um, this is awkward, idk if you remeber this, but we met in vegas, about a month ago, and I had no idea how to find you until the stream today

quackityHQ: uh, hi?

qusckityHQ: proof?

Quickly you sent him the picture you had taken of him with Albert,

y/n: uhhh, bam, proof?

y/n: our son is sitting on my head board right now

quackityHQ: holy shit

#mcyt x reader #quackity x reader #quackityhq x reader #teddy06 writes #teddy06

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batarangsoundsdumb · 3 years

Text

guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

#this is only like half of it #but at least you can get like a few answers #yanno fuck it #bataranswers #ask #asks #anon

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Postmarked In The Past

Spencer Reid x Female Single Mom Reader

Summary: After sixteen years of no contact Reader reconnects with Spencer because she has to reveal the secret she’s been keeping since she stopped sending letters to him.

A/N: Hey heyyy! This is my sixteenth fic (it’s actually was totally unintentional to choose the 16th for this fic even though the daughter is 16 in this fic lol 😂) for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!! This one is based off of this request and is part of my unlinked Spencer Reid & Letters series! Thanks for all the love and support lately- I was going to put out my plan for my 1500 follower celebration yesterday or today but if you saw my post I’ve been struggling so it’ll probably come on the 19th or the 20th. Submit an ask here- I love hearing from everyone 🥰Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy 🥰

Warnings: Reader keeps a huge secret she definitely shouldn’t have, Reader is a single mother-the daughter doesn’t have a specified name but she is specified to be 16, Reader is very defensive when her daughter finds the letters, mentions of a one night stand

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.5k

Spencer had been a bright spot in my life, one that had been snuffed out all because of me. When I had found myself pregnant with his child, after I had visited him once, I bolted. For a long time I justified my actions, saying to myself that it was better that Spencer was unburdened while his career was just starting out. But, deep down I knew how wonderful Spencer would have been as a father, how he would have moved heaven and earth to make everything work. And, that guilt haunted me.

The memories I had of him were so far in between, every moment with him had been so fleeting at the end. I struggled to sometimes even remember how he looked as it had been sixteen years since I last laid eyes on him.

I had to strain my memory to remember the way his gelled hair curled around his ears and how sometimes I saw him let the curls free only around me. His eyes had been brown, I could remember that. But, pinpointing what shade they were when they glinted in the light or were drenched in the shadows was lost to me. I knew he had been tall and lanky, his hands reflecting that with how spindly they were. To remember how those fingers had felt on my skin, or how his lips had marked me, or how he would gently stroke my hair was too difficult. Whether it was because I couldn’t remember or that I didn’t want to, it was just too hard for me to want to try to strain my memory anymore.

The labor had been the most difficult thing I had gone through, no one had been there to hold my hand. And, I didn’t really want anybody else except Spencer holding it. I had gritted my teeth and accepted it, pushing through the physical and emotional pain, especially since the pain of losing Spencer had been entirely because of me. I had been given a beautiful baby daughter that day and it was then that I started to force myself to forget Spencer, she looked too much like him to be able to bear.

The only things that remained in my life that involved him were the letters I sent to him in the last year of our relationship while we were long distance and my daughter. The letters were able to be shoved in a box at the bottom of a closet, but my daughter confronted me with my actions everyday by existing. I loved my daughter very much, I just tried to avoid the topic of her father by concocting a lie and making myself forget all of Spencer’s features so I wouldn’t see them as much in her. My nightmare would be the two things converging to confront me with my guilt, I don’t think I could handle that.

—-

At the kitchen table I saw my daughter, holding a letter. Her holding a letter wasn’t at its core a bad thing of course, but I could tell by the slight yellowing of the paper that it was getting old. Immediately panic spread through me; there were no other old letters she’d be looking at besides mine, the ones I sent to Spencer.

“Those are private.” I snapped defensively, definitely too hostile to be reasonable. It was obvious by my tone of voice that I was hiding something.

“Private?!” She yelled, giving away that she had already read at least a few of them. I clenched my eyes shut to prepare for her question, “Are these from my father?! Who you said was a one night stand?!” I vividly remember explaining the lie I had concocted for her, her being confused why I would only be with her father once. It was a hard subject to dance around, a difficult lie for me and her to swallow. But, the alternative was too painful for me to be honest with her, or honest with Spencer. And, I knew it made me selfish, at the time it had been so Spencer wouldn’t stop his blossoming career. With time I realized that I really had done it because I had been scared. The guilt had started to sting worse when I realized that.

I had been caught, there was no weaseling out of this. I hanged my head in defeat, finally admitting to the large lie I had even roped the rest of my family in, “Yes.”

If she had been a dragon she’d be breathing fire on me while she spoke, “And why would you keep this from me! Did he do something bad or something?! Is that why you didn’t tell me?!”

“No-I-“ I stammered a few times until I found the words, “I- I did it because I didn’t want to hold him back… We were so young, and I knew he’d quit his new job across the country to come back to me.” Keeping the details still vague was my only armor right now. I kept to myself how those letters were the way we communicated for months when he started in the academy. We were only able to meet up once a month, and one month I unexpectedly fell pregnant. I never sent another letter or came to visit him again once I found out.

She clenched her jaw at me, looking back down at the scores of letters that we had written, and I had hidden. Her next question now made me clench my jaw, “C-can I see him? Or call him? Or send him a letter?” If you don’t know how to contact him anymore I’m sure we can-“

I was nervous as to where this was going. There was no way I could contact Spencer again after all these years, the guilt already ate at me everyday. Seeing and remembering his face would only make it worse. Fear was fueling me and I cut her off because of it, “No- I- I don’t think it’s a good idea...I just need more time- until I’m ready.” I started to shrink away from her, my authority slipping through my fingers as I became more and more vulnerable.

“You’ve waited sixteen years, you’ll never be ready.” The spite in her voice was stinging, she wasn’t completely wrong in her statement.. And when I didn’t answer she then stormed away, slamming the door to her room.

——

Our relationship in the few weeks following was strained at best, estranged at worse. She barely spoke to me since then, the biggest conversation we had was about what was for dinner- and that had been about two sentences long.

I was slowly coming around to the idea of perhaps finding a way for her and Spencer to reconnect. The guilt that I had been so afraid of becoming worse if I confronted it head on, only grew worse by avoiding it. I was actually going to talk to her after I got home from work, until I realized what she did.

She left her own letter on the table titled Dear Mom, detailing where she was going without giving any specifics. There was one part that gave her reasoning for writing her plan down, she didn’t want me to have a heart attack even if she was mad at me. Plus there were a few sentences about how she had used her own money that she had been saving up, which was supposed to be for college only serving to make you even more frustrated. At the bottom she wrote- I’m going to find my Dad, please don’t follow me or call the police.

I scoffed to myself, wondering if she expected her warning to not to follow her to be followed. Of course I was going to follow her, there was no way I was going to just let her go off on her own like that.

It wouldn’t be too hard to find her. Spencer may have changed apartments since then, but one quick google search of news articles he was mentioned in showed me that he still worked at the BAU in Quantico. It was probably a safe bet that my daughter did the same thing and was planning on visiting him at his office.

The plane ride there had been tumultuous, not in the sense that there was any chaotic occurrence or severe turbulence on the plan, more like in my mind. My hands shook, my foot tapped, and my mind raced while I took the long flight from Las Vegas all the way to Quantico. My mind went round in circles whether or not I viewed Spencer meeting my daughter- our daughter as a good thing. It was difficult to accept that even though they’d both most likely be mad at me, they deserved to meet. Especially since I knew how good of a father Spencer could potentially be. Once I had landed I didn’t stop, getting a cab straight from the airport to where the BAU offices were located.

The building looked daunting in front of me. It wasn’t a skyscraper by any means, but the task that I was here to do was so big it felt like one as I stared at it while trying to work up the courage to go in. The guilt however, was too hard to ignore.

My mind was on autopilot as I told the secretary at one of the front desks. It was too stressful to focus on worrying, so exhausted from the emotional roller coaster I was riding. An agent had assured me that she was safe which made some of the stress melt from my shoulders luckily.

“Here she is.” The agent gestured to the office, empty of any other person except my daughter. I felt even more relieved now that I saw her with my own eyes.

When I entered she waited a second before speaking timidly with disappointment, “He’s not here, he's on a case.” Her demeanor had deflated almost immediately as she saw me escorted up.

“Who told you that?” My arms crossed around my chest, nervous and furious all at once. I didn’t need to tell my daughter how in trouble she was, by the pout on her face she knew she’d be getting grounded for a long time even if I did let her talk to him.

“This nice lady named Garcia, she works with him. But, she did tell me I had to wait for you until she called him” For the first time since I had read her letter to me I cracked a smile. When we had still been communicating, Spencer often wrote and spoke about his teammates. Besides a fleeting photo of the team shown to me by him while I had been over here visiting, all my perceptions of the team and how they might look were all based on my imagination.

Despite that, when a vibrantly dressed woman clicked her heels into the room, I knew it was her. Spencer had perfectly described her, shining bright compared to the dull colors of the bureau’s office.

“So your Spencer’s baby mama.” Yep, she was definitely as blunt and beautiful as Spencer had described. I blanched at her comment, though I didn’t deny it, which was all she needed to know to confirm.

“Can you give me his number?” I skittered past the question, not wanting to confirm it out loud.

She beamed brightly at me, already starting to punch in the numbers with the phone on the desk in front of me. “You can call him now if you want on this phone, they just stopped working for the day.”

When she handed me the phone, it had already started ringing. I couldn’t help but panic, almost refusing the phone until my daughter nudged me forward to grab it. My finger trembled severely as I wrapped my hands around the phone, but I still managed to hold on to bring it up to my ear just as someone picked up the phone.

“Hello?” It was him, he sounded so similar to the boy you knew, that boy was a man now. He sounded more haggard compared to sixteen years ago; I wondered what all had happened since then.

“Hey- Spencer it’s me.” By the hitch in his voice that came through the speaker, he knew who it was.

At first I heard nothing from him, only some rustled feedback in the speaker. My shoulders were practically at my ears now afraid he might hang up. He did eventually stumble out a greeting, “H-hi? Why are you calling me after all these years- aaand on a phone at my work?”

“I’ve got to be honest with you,” I cryptically answered with an evident shake in my voice. I was biting my nails now, not caring if I chipped the polish on them. My daughter grabbed my hand to comfort me even though she was probably still furious at me which helped coax out my next statement, “cause I haven’t told you why I stopped talking to you…” I breathed in deeply once before I finally admitted the secret I had held for so many years, “Spencer, you have a daughter, she just turned sixteen.”

Dead silence was all I got, that was until I heard a choked out sob from him, “Why?”

He didn’t need to elaborate any further, it was quite clear what he was asking. Again another meek shaky reply came from me, “There were a lot of reasons- the main one was I didn’t want to hold you back.”

My daughter was now crying as was I, I hadn’t given her my reasoning until now. Maybe one day I’d give Spencer all the reasons why I had hidden it from him for so many years even though it was painful. I had held a lot of guilt about not ever contacting him again or even sending another letter. Spencer deserved to know everything, especially about his daughter who was the spitting image of him in almost every way.

“Can I talk to her?” I agreed, which seemed to surprise my daughter. I think she thought I’d be furious enough with her to not let her speak to him. She would still be getting many privileges taken away from her, just not this one as it was my fault she never knew her father in the first place. My fingers shook even more as I moved to click the speaker button so he could hear her speak.

“Hi- dad.” They spoke for a while, while I took the back seat, barely interjecting. They both deserved every ounce of father and daughter time that I had deprived them from throughout the years. My chest did feel lighter now that I had told him, now that my daughter was getting the chance to know him. Hearing them laugh and giggle with each other almost immediately only cemented how much she was her father’s daughter.

When the phone was handed back to me, after seemingly hours of talking (Garcia had even popped in a few times to get me more coffee) Spencer asked,“Can you stay in Quantico till I get back?”

I smiled, happy that I’d finally be able to see and remember his face again after all this time, “We’ll be here waiting, it’s time you meet your daughter in person.”

Ask Me Anything

—

Tag lists (fill out this form to join): If your url has a strike through it means tumblr won’t let me tag you- check in your settings if you allow yourself to be searchable

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @boxofsparklingmuses @multixfandomwriter @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story @cosmic-psychickitty

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Letters Series: (Group of Unlinked fluff fics about Spencer and letters): @whoreforthebau @sierraraeck @90spumkin

#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fluff #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #30 fics in 30 days

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years

Note

please please a part 2 of that gamer!geralt au, them doing something like Q&A

Nonie, I hope you know what you signed up for. This got out of hand lmao. like 2.4k of Q&A kind of out of hand.

Warnings: swearing, talk of drinking to excess, kinda spicy questions, lil kisses, idk how but I meant for this to be goofy and horny and it got kinda soft? what’s new?

____________

“Holy shit,” Geralt sat staring at his phone as he mindlessly stirred pasta.

“I swear to god, if you found a way to burn noodles-” Jaskier turned away from the blender to wave a wooden spoon covered in pesto puree.

Geralt shook his head and held his phone up to him, scrolling through the replies to a tweet as he did, going on for ages as Jaskier’s jaw slowly got closer to the floor.

“What are those for?!”

“I put up a poll for a boyfriend Q&A or a game review and not a single person has voted for the game review.” Geralt was still scrolling through questions people wanted answered as he watched Jaskier’s face go from shock to confusion to a smug grin.

“They love me,” he sang, kicking his heel up as he turned back to the pasta sauce.

Geralt rolled his eyes and started screenshotting some of the less invasive questions, shaking his head and muttering, “Course they do.”

Geralt pressed record, waited a moment, and heaved a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, “You guys literally didn’t even give me a choice on this one,” he reached off frame and scruffed Jaskier, plopping him down on the couch with him.

Jaskier didn’t stay where he was put for even a moment, using his momentum to bounce up onto Geralt’s lap with a shit-eating grin, “Oh? Are we rolling?”

Geralt dropped his forehead to Jaskier’s shoulder, stifling a laugh, “This is gonna be a long one.”

“Yeah, it is,” Jask agreed, then turned to the camera, stroking Geralt’s hair, “My fans want more!”

“OH-kay,” Geralt manhandled Jaskier to sit next to him which earned him a pout and a leg draped over his lap as he continued his intro, “I’ve got a bunch of questions from twitter. I didn’t even have to confirm which video we would do, you guys just went straight for the kill. I picked a few, Jask picked a few, neither of us knows which ones the other picked.” he turned to see Jaskier wiggle his eyebrows at the camera, “Why am I thinking you picked the raunchy ones?”

The brunet pretended to be offended before he smirked, “Only a few.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he nudged Jask with his shoulder and opened up his phone to his screenshots, “Okay! First up is AdamSandlersBitch, nice name. They asked what Jaskier’s favorite gaming console and game to play is.” he turned to Jaksier with raised eyebrows.

His boyfriend cringed, “My.. my phone? I don’t know? I play a lot of Candy Crush while I listen to podcasts?”

Geralt smiled sweetly, “Wait what about Stardew Valley? I thought you started that?”

“I did!” Jaskier brightened up for a moment before he deflated again, “But I got confused and then the ADHD made me bake cookies.”

“Those were good cookies. I’ll play with you if you want?” Geralt’s normal ‘streamer dude’ persona melted away while he played with the rips on Jaskier’s jeans.

Jask leaned forward and kissed his temple, “I’d love that.”

Geralt blushed, even after years, Jaskier’s affection still caught him off guard.

“Mkay! My turn!” Jaskier flashed his devilish grin and read, in his most obnoxious voice, “Dwn2Clwn said ‘do you two live together? Have you said ‘i love you’? And who tops?’”

Geralt’s mouth twisted into an upside-down U as he stared at Jaskier in muted surprise, “Honestly, not as bad as I expected.”

Jaskier looped his arm around Geralt’s, “I’m starting off easy.”

Geralt let his mock-disapproving gaze linger just a bit before he answered, “The living together is kind of new-like a few months. This one said ‘I love you’ on, what? The fourth date? Fifth?”

“Fourth.”

“No, it was the fifth, Eskel locked himself out on the fourth. Remember?”

“Shit you’re right,” Jaskier gave the camera a stern look, “In my defense, we’d been friends for a good four years before this. I wasn’t just confessing my love to a tinder date - though I have done that before.”

Geralt nodded, “That was very amusing.”

Jaskier tapped his nose, “Don’t avoid the last part, darling.”

Geralt huffed and stared down the camera, and, in the most matter of fact tone possible, said, “We switch. Compromise, folks. Can’t have one person doing all the work all the time.”

Jaskier nodded sagely, patting Geralt's chest, “We got a pow-”

Geralt clamped his hand over Jaskier’s mouth, 100% sure he was going to say ‘power bottom pillow princess’, “Nope. I’ll get demonetized for that.”

“But not who tops?” Jaskier asked through Geralt’s fingers.

He just shrugged, “I don’t make the rules.”

Jaskier tapped his phone and raised his eyebrows, telling him to move to the next question.

“Mis- Mischanication? Shit I hope I said that right, Mischanication asked, ‘would you ever get a pet together?’ We did! Her name is Roach and she’s a little shit! I told Jaskier not to feed her, but he did, now we have the snuggliest, crankiest cat I’ve ever met!”

Jaskier had gotten up to pluck Roach from her perch on the windowsill when Geralt had read the question and plopped down with her as Geralt finished his proud speech, “She’s not a little shit! She’s just delicate! Isn’t that right, darling?”

Geralt scratched under her chin and cooed, “You are a nasty little dragon baby, aren't you?! Just a little garbage child! Yes, you are. We love the tiny demon beast.”

“Geralt!”

He snickered and kissed Jaskier’s hair, “Next question, love.”

Jaskier grumbled something about positive reinforcement as Roach scampered back to her cat tree and he unlocked his phone for his next tweet, “This darling wants to remain anonymous,” Geralt gave him some serious side-eye at that, “they said ‘I think I’m in love with the flower twink, where can I find one of my own?’”

Geralt frowned at the camera and pulled Jaskier onto his lap, holding him close and snuggling into his chest, almost growling, “Hands off.”

Jaskier giggled, brushing Geralt’s hair out of his face as he talked to the camera, “You heard the man. Unfortunately, I was not mass-produced and I’ve been spoken for.”

Geralt looked up at him with what could only be called suspicious puppy eyes, “You picked that one just to sit in my lap didn’t you?”

“Yes. And because I want to change my socials to ‘flower twink’.”

“Do it,” Geralt kept Jaskier on his lap as he swiped to his next question, “Eggsfuckingsuck - heh, my dad hates eggs- Eggsfuckingsuck says, ‘what is the most embarrassing thing you’ve caught each other doing/saying?’ Oh boy, do I have a story for you!”

"Oh I couldn't say the thing but you can tell this story!?"

"...you have a point... Check my insta stories. I'll put it there after I post this."

Jaskier nodded, ever so pleased, and turned to the camera, "Our dear Yennefer of sorceryglammour once beat Geralt at trivia night when the theme was 'video games'."

“We did shots before we went to the bar and she goaded me and Lambert into a chugging competition before the round started. I’m telling you, she planned this. Yen is ruthless.” Geralt desperately tried to justify his defeat but Jaskier was having none of it.

“She’s mostly harmless, plus I have video evidence from that night. You weren’t that far gone.”

“Pull it up! Let’s settle it.”

Jaskier patted Geralt’s head like one would a toddler, “I’d have to get my old laptop out. Later, darling.”

Geralt had a smug look on his face, “That means he doesn’t have it anymore.”

“Next question!” Jaskier squeaked, not at all changing the subject.

Geralt shrugged, “If you admit I won that one.”

“It’s not a competition!” Jaskier laughed, looking down at him with that stupidly smitten look on his face.

“Hmmm…” Geralt tilted his chin up defiantly, “if you say so.”

Jaskier kissed him, lingering a little bit more than could be considered chaste, “I do.”

Geralt looked up at him, batting his eyelashes, “Fine then, next question.”

Jaskier handed him his phone and he read it off leaning his head on Jaskier’s shoulder, “CountryBumpkin42 asked if we play any instruments. I play the recorder very poorly, but Jask plays everything.”

“Not everything, but yes, I could cover a Trans Siberian Orchestra song if I had a pedalboard with enough loop settings.” Jaskier preened.

“And more,” Geralt added, counting on his fingers as he spoke, “In this house alone he has two pianos, three different types of guitars, a drumset, a violin and fiddle, a flute and piccilo, an oboe, a mandolin, a lute, bongos, saxophone, clarinet, tambourine, trumpet, and xylophone. Did I get them all?”

Jaskier glanced from side to side with a guilty look, “Ah… no, I bought a bass sax that showed up last night.”

“Oh, did Thursday at 3 decide they wanted to switch after all?”

“Yeah! She got the third chair as a freshman on a loaner instrument! I’m very proud!”

Geralt seemed to remember they were recording and turned back to the camera, “J teaches music at the university and does private lessons.”

“It’s how I can afford such a pretty trophy boyfriend,” Jaskier teased, ruffling Geralt’s hair and earning a little chuckle.

“Mkay, what do you have next?”

Jaskier smoothed Gearalt’s hair back down as he read the next question, “3R4108F6!J asks if we have any cute nicknames for each other.”

Geralt’s eyebrows nearly flew past his hairline, “J has a new one for me almost every day.”

“Its true,” Jaskier nodded, “I am a slut for cute nicknames. This morning was Ger Bear, one of my faves. I called him Thumbs for a bit, I lovingly call him Dumb Fuck rather often.”

“And he is Dip Shit, it’s balanced. I usually just shorten names? Jask or J is usually it, right?” Geralt asked, shifting so Jaskier was sitting on the couch between his legs and they were both turned out toward the camera but very much still cuddling.

“And when I’m being childish I get Alfie. But Geralt is much more deliberate and specific with his nicknames. It’s a bit of a friendship level up when he uses nicknames.”

Geralt frowned at him, “I do that?”

Jaskier giggled, “You never noticed?”

He tilted his head, giving Jaskier a quizzical look, “Not at all.”

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s cheek, “You’re so cute.”

Geralt blushed again, leaning into the touch just a tad, “Who’s turn is it?”

“Yours,” Jaskier hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Okay,” Geralt blushed even more, “I had this one as an alternate, but uh, Yen asked what we’d name our first kid?”

Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s shoulder and hummed as he thought for a moment, “I always like Blake or Spencer, but I seem to remember you saying something about old world traditional names?”

Geralt nodded, absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Jaskier’s arm, “My grandma was hoping each of us boys would be a girl and wanted mum to name us Cirilla every time. I quite like it, but I’m rather open as long as I don’t know someone with the name. I really like Eric?”

“Oo, I like Eric.”

“But you like the neutral names.”

“I do, but it’s your hypothetical kiddo too.”

Geralt gave him a little squeeze, “There’s time for that later. What’s your next one?”

Jaskier snorted when he looked at his phone, “What are your guys’ love languages?”

Geralt just looked down at Jask, completely entangled in his arms, then up to the camera, “I’m gonna hazard a guess at physical touch.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a safe bet,” Jaskier giggled, “I haven’t taken the quiz in years, but I was that and gifts.”

“Oh, yeah. Physical touch and words of affirmation. I got like a 0 on acts of service and gifts, but I really like giving gifts.”

“Mhm, yes you do,” Jaksier wiggled his eyebrows, then turned to the camera, “I also had no idea you could have different giving and receiving languages till I met this one.”

Geralt nodded then turned to him with a slight frown, “you know I really thought your questions were going to be more graphic.”

“Oh, honey I saved the best for last,” Jaskier winked.

“Fuck me,” Geralt grumbled before reading off his last question, “Cali852 asked what we did for Pride.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up, “Oh Pride was fun. We watched the parade, of course, then Yen did our makeup and… and where did we go after that?”

Geralt looked like he’d been waiting for this, “We went to a club, where you ordered three kamakazis, knocked them all back, danced for twenty minutes, then I took you home.”

“N-no… we went to the beach, didn’t we?”

“That was the year before. We were going to go to the drag show at our regular bar too, but someone had just finished grading finals and went a little too hard.”

Jaskier grinned, “Speaking of finals, time for the last question. I had a different one in mind but if the thing I cant say from earlier would get this demonetized then that defintitelyi would. So we’re going with ‘what is the wackest placy y’all banged?’”

Geralt snorted, “Shit who knows anymore?”

“Well there was the boat?”

“Or the train?”

“Nah, too standard. What about the cabin?”

“Heh, no I think your o-”

“I don’t have tenure darling,” It was Jaskier’s turn to slap his hands over Geralt’s mouth, “The answer is a dilapidated structure my parents still try to call a cabin out in the foothills.”

Geralt laughed and pulled his hand away, “Okay, that can be the answer.”

“Is that it? Now we just say bye?” Jaskier looked between Geralt and the camera.

Geralt shrugged, “Yeah. You wanna say the thing?”

Jaskier wiggled with a little pride and excitement, “Don’t forget to like and subscribe! Bye Fuckers!”

They both waved for a couple seconds before Geralt got up and turned the camera off. He popped out the memory card and was going to immediately start loading it onto his computer but Jask hooked his finger through a belt loop as he walked past and tugged him back down.

“I’m tired. Snuggle with me.”

Geralt hummed, “We just snuggled that whole time.”

Jaskier heaved a dramatic sigh, “I know and this is exhausting. I don’t know how you talk to a camera all day.”

Geralt stretched to set the chip on top of his laptop before collapsing back on top of Jaskier who had stretched the length of the couch, “Are you making fun of me?” he teased.

Jaskier cupped his face between his hands and pulled him up for a deep kiss, “Oh never.”

#geraskier #gamer geralt #streamer geralt #teacher jaskeir #noob jaskeir #geraskier boyfriends #geraskier fluff #soft geraskier #the witcher #the witcher fic #geraskier fic #geraskier modern au #the witcher modern au #look this is so self indulgent i hope yall still like it #lmao

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daaziscoolbesties · 3 years

Text

minecraft endermen are really weird. theyre unnatural and make me feel off.

when i was a small child like seven years ago i would always play minecraft on creative mode and i made an ugly ass enderman "farm" made out of bricks. i had an enderman spawn egg and id just spam it and the enderman couldnt get out (so i thought). anyways having them in this enclosure was probably so i could feel "powerful" over them because to date theyre still the only mob in minecraft that makes me anxious. even above skeletons(which i used to have a horrible fear of (the real life ones not mc ones)) and spiders (which i still have a horrible fear of (again the real life ones not mc)). anyways the endermen just ended up completely teleporting out of the farm and i checked on my world the next day and they were all gone and i didnt appreciate it (this was the same world where my brother blew up my pets but thats a different story).

anyways back to endermen. besides the fact that i just didnt like dying and i did like building ugly structures, one of the main reasons i didnt play survival much for a while, or if i did id put it on peaceful, was because of the enderman. every time i passed one my heart would drop and if i happened to look it in the eye on accident my throat would feel like its closing up and idk why. if it sounds like im bullshitting you or not remembering correctly i swear im not because it still happens actually.

i play survival a ton more now simply because i enjoy it more, it feels like theres actually a goal to achieve, but i never really make efforts toward said goal(ya know, beating the dragon). none of my worlds are really created with the intention of beating the dragon, and therefore i dont have to worry about endermen. if i happen to be outside my house and theres one there, no worries i just wait for it to go away. it may spook me for a sec but im fine.

but recently me and my sister started a world with the sole purpose of beating the dragon. we may have cheated a little (like putting on keep inventory cause honestly we both suck at pvp and have died so many times) but its okay cause thats it. we still have to fight endermen to get pearls for the end portal. and so we were hanging out in the nether and made a little two block tall hidey hole and id stand by the front and taunt endermen to get them to come close so i could kill them without them being able to get to me and it worked really well actually. except for the fact that to get them to come near i had to get them to aggro onto me and to do that i have to look them in the eye and you know where this is going. and so i was like "it has been so long since i looked an enderman in the eye surely i cant still be scared of them" and i turn to my sister like "<sister> you stay in the hole ill get us some pearls"

so i go out and taunt the dudes and guess what bitch got the pit in their stomach from these fuckers!! thats right bestie and my throat started to close up and i started talking to my sister again but i could tell me voice was off from it and i dont know why it happens but it pisses me off. like theyre not even scary looking theyre just a bit odd. and i continue to do this and kill the endermen and it just. doesnt. stop. my throat keeps closing up and im not "in pain" or anything just inconvenienced like what the fuck dude its a bunch of fucking pixels. i dont know its weird.

and now this part is gonna sound super fuckin stupid but ever since i started watching dsmp i immediately got attached to ranboo (cc! and c!) and knowing that c!ranboo was half enderman made me really think "hm endermen arent that bad. granted i havent interacted with one in a while but still not that bad. perhaps my favorite hostile mob" because you know people get attached to characters and think dumb things. and then again ranboo's character straight up existing and also this one specific headcanon i saw that was like "endermen use telepathy to talk so when a player looks at them all their thoughts get projected into them and it hurts their brain :((" makes me feel kinda bad for aggro-ing them and killing them again even though its literally just some pixels dude. my brain is not kind to me about this stuff and its really dumb.

i dont know what about the endermen staring back at me sets off the sort of fight-or-flight that makes me unable to breathe for a second but its something. its not the fact that their jaws basically unhinge when theyre mad because the throat closing up sensation happens before that. it happens when i look at an enderman and it looks back up at me and holds my gaze. i dont know. i dont know why im worked up(even slightly) over a video game. theyre still my favorite hostile mob i think (not just because of ranboo honestly the other hostile mobs just kinda suck).

and also i like the idea of how humanoid they are. not human. humanoid. they have the basic aspects of a minecraft human- square, head, torso, legs, arms, eyes. most mc skins dont even have mouths anyways just eyes. but the endermen have these features differently than us. their eyes are unnatural, legs and arms too long, body all one color, one that can blend in, and you can only see its purple eyes staring you down from a distance. theyre basically just cryptids.

despite skeletons and even zombies looking closer to the player than the endermen, they still seem the most human-like of all of the mobs. they arent aggressive unless provoked. they dont like eye contact(socially awkward). they like picking up stuff and moving it around. theyre curious (i cant explain this one they just are, okay?). even the sounds they make are just phrases like "hey" "hello" "whats up" distorted and in reverse.

i want to know more about them.

i want to know where they came from.

why theyre found in every dimension.

why they sound like us.

i want explanations, i want to know why they scare us.

i want to know if they know.

if they know that we're like them in some way.

that some of us dont mean harm, but for others thats all they want to do to the endermen.

i saw a post once that said "what taught humans to be wary of things that look human, but arent?" i believe the phenomenon is called uncanny valley. what if in the minecraft universe, the thing that taught us that was endermen. or rather, the thing that taught the endermen that was us? because again, the endermen pose no threat to us unless theyre provoked. by one of us. the endermen try to communicate with us- "⊑⟒⊬" "⍙⊑⏃⏁⌇ ⎍⌿?"- but we kill them without reason. thats why they dont like eye contact, its been ingrained in them through evolution that eye contact with a human/player will end in death, and they dont want it to be theirs, so they attack first.

we- or rather, the first minecrafters, maybe (in the lore(?)) people before the game, taught the endermen to fear us. i mean we literally kill them, use their remains to enter their home dimension, and then kill their leader/mother. they do their best to stop us, but we can respawn and they cant. and then, some people even go as far as to make farms, having them all spawn in one place, crowded, cant teleport out- their only defense mechanism gone- and then are slaughtered for their pearls. and due to the mass of these farms there will be chests upon chests full of pearls that no one's using, i saw someone the other day ask what people do with them and someone straight up said they just burn them like god what a waste.

"but izzy, players make mob farms all the time and not just for endermen!!!1!!11! why are the endermen ones so bad why are you only talking about those1!1!1!!!1" 1) because i can, 2) this is an endermen-themed post, and 3) i dont like the other mobs. and of course im not actually mad at the players who like beating the game and making endermen farms and such, i mean thats what it is its all just a game just a bunch of code, 0's and 1's, so why does it matter why bother writing a whole post on it?

because when you look paste the game, when you read in between those ones and zeroes and discover this non-intentional lore, it can make things so much more,, interesting. this is fanfic material. hell, its probably fanart material too. its all for the content to see what the community can create i guess. or maybe i just really like talking about endermen and this has been on my mind for two days now and once i started typing i couldnt stop.

but yeah, thats my final thoughts.

we, humans, experience uncanny valley about the endermen.

but the endermen experience uncanny valley about the players.

#time is empty and thoughts are yes #long post #endermen #minecraft enderman #minecraft #minecraft lore #lore #tw video game death #not really sure if i need to put that since a lot of stuff in minecraft is killing stuff but might as well stay on the safe side with it #god this might be even longer than my other post #at least i formatted it this time #sorta #this post went from endermen make me feel weird to oOoOo psychology at 3 am with no proof real quick #and gonna be honest thats not at all what i had planned but its okay

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gofancyninjaworld · 3 years

Text

OPM Webcomic Chapter 141 Review

Intro

Normally I like to take a couple of days and a few rereads to see how I feel about a chapter before reviewing it, but with ONE’s unpredictable schedule, I’d best do this now. It’s longish.

The first thing to say is that this chapter really messed me up.

The cavalry has a stone in its shoe

The first thing that fucked me up was realising what the sound effect in the first two panels of the chapter was: the sound of the doctor’s increasingly agonised breathing. What a horrible thing to have to hear, made worse by the three Machine Gods showing up and reporting that their latest kill would have a 0% chance of survival after 5 minutes.

If you thought then that this chapter would be about a by-the-skin-of-the-teeth save, you’re sadly mistaken. Genos was awesome. He spared no power (nor powers for that matter) in fighting the three dragon-level machines simultaneously, aiming to kill them as quickly as he could and get that time.

ONE’s grasp on choreography has improved immensely and he’s used it fantastically here. He’s always been versatile, but this time, Genos was plasticity itself, wielding heat, freezing, magnetism, anti-gravity, electricity and much more. In turn, they didn’t commit the mistake of trying to attack one at a time, analysing his moves as they went and attacking in unpredictable formation.

it might not be psychic power, but being able to move and warp anything magnetic is a damn useful substitute

Machine Gods may vary in form, but they do share a basic interest, which is in understanding heroes, and a basic personality, which is a snarky wit that’s quick to mock. Machine God Tech lobs a back-handed compliment to Genos, saying that if he’d mastered these variable abilities, he’d have been able to aim for the top of the hero world. For their confidence, Tech and Ray end up dead in pretty short order, smashed to pieces, leaving an outraged Machine God Body howling about how it simply couldn’t be that a mere ex-human cyborg could outdo them, these magnificent AIs. He takes up the components of the other two to strengthen himself further, but he’s dead soon, smashed to bits by an appropriately named Final Smash.

Genos hurries to the doctor, but there’s no let up. Seven more high-powered robots appear. Thankfully so does Saitama, still in his underwear. He takes on the five approaching from the front, leaving the last two to Genos. Saitama casually walking through the assault, not even bothering to shape a punch has to be one of the scene-stealers of the chapter and one of the very few light moments in it.

And then it’s over. Saitama picks the doctor up to try ferrying him to hospital, but the doctor refuses, preferring to tell Genos where to find a secret, final upgrade, to use it to run away from Them (looks like the doctor knows exactly who killed him) and to beg forgiveness.

what a way for a beautiful relationship to end

Genos doesn’t say anything. Nor does he hurry after Saitama, but after the latter has left, he bows deeply in gratitude and says that there’s nothing to forgive, for the old man did nothing wrong in his eyes.

The action recommences at dawn. For the avoidance of all hope, we see that Saitama has buried the doctor in the forest with a chunck of the lab wall as a headstone and the shovel still stuck in the earth by the grave. Genos comes out of the repair pod with a new body and the two of them take their leave. Genos intends to take out Metal Knight immediately, before whatever the plan for a ‘general offensive’ is executed. Saitama agrees to accompany him. But as they walk along, there’s a light over the nearest city. It seems ‘The Plan’ Machine God Tech talked about has begun.

Indeed, on the ground, there’s carnage as a formation of robots marches through, burning every building they pass and shooting down anything that moves. Various heroes look on in numb horror as the army advances.

That’s where this monster of a chapter ends.

never ones to half-ass things

Meta

Unsurprising Surprise

The Organization strikes at last. Our longest-running villains finally show their hand. They’ve measured, they’ve planned, they’ve done their homework, made that list and checked it twice. Fitting in with Metal Knight’s warning about a shadowy power waiting its time (in the manga, not the webcomic), they’ve struck right when the heroes are at their weakest. We don’t know the extent of it. Is City W the only place being scrubbed off the map, or is this part of a much more widespread trend?

Well, now we really do know that when Genos spoke of not only acting for himself when he introduced himself to Saitama, he was just telling the truth. He might be looking for vengeance, but his scope was always much bigger than just himself. It’s a shame things have had to deteriorate to this extent for us to see it.

If not now, when?

So this is it! This is as good as it gets for him then. If he is to survive, Genos will have to take a page from Drive Knight’s example and quickly master everything his new body has to offer. We’ve (well I’ve) complained before that he’s merely competent at using what the doctor gives him, throwing parts and bodies away without giving himself a chance to truly get the best out of them. No choice now. And it looks like there’s a world to save -- no time to luxuriate in practice. Or grief.

Forgive me

A few years ago when I was still new to Reddit, one of my first posts was to ask if Dr Kuseno was a good man. Against his manifest good deeds in supporting Genos as he did, it didn’t sit well with me that he’d performed a Reverse Pinocchio on an ordinary boy, turning him into a living weapon. Not hard to imagine that it wasn’t received too well by the sub, lol. In time, as we got to see more of Kuseno, my position on him softened, but what the hell, doctor? never went completely away.

With Kuseno’s dying words being apology, we see that he knew he’d done wrong by Genos. He knew that roping him into his quest for justice came as much from his own selfishness and rage as it did from a desire to set the world to rights. I’ve repeatedly said that the cyborg body Genos has has nothing to do with health. It was all about gaining the power to fight and forgoing a chance to have a life in the process.

And so Kuseno died, in agony, weeping and begging for a forgiveness that he never heard come. He was buried like a dog in what had been his backyard. By a stranger.

Fuck.

That’s cold.

Now I’m not faulting Genos for not forgiving the old man to his hearing. But there’s a hardness to him that he’ll want watching lest it grow more.

this is why the Machine Gods always fail despite their detailed calculations. They just do not understand the depth of the human heart, nor its importance.

But I’ll add one more thing. Dr Kuseno did not just raise a warrior. In the end, he raised a damn fine hero too. In the end, I really hope that some great good might yet come out of this.

Saitama and compassion

I’m glad that Saitama is here. I’m even more glad that he’s not been acting to try stealing the show, instead supporting Genos when the latter needs it. It’s not ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ But it is compassionate.

What’s next?

Why fighting of course. Lots of it. I hope that somehow, the fog of war ends up nevertheless clarifying the relationship between the Neo Heroes, The Organization, Metal Knight and possibly Drive Knight. I’m ready for this arc to build to its crisis and resolve one way or the other.

Bits and pieces

Number 23 on the list? If Kuseno weren’t keeping such a low profile, I’d be insulted on his behalf.

I surmised last chapter that Kuseno must have an extensive basement as the superstructure of his place looked positively humble. West basement? With multiple hangars? That’s not a basement, that’s an underground castle. I hope Genos has locked up after himself. If he succeeds in putting sword to his enemies, he’ll want what’s in there.

Finally, with the way living and dying works in this world, I wonder if the old man might yet have survived if he’d not decided it was too late for him. I guess we’ll never know. At least I hope not. I hope he’s beyond the clutches of those who’d raise him to an undeath for their own purposes.

#OPM #meta #review #Genos #dr kuseno #Saitama #machine gods #The Organization #Metal Knight #long #what a brutal chapter #both in action and in emotion #so much ugliness #all I wanted Genos to be able to do was to finally protect someone that was important to him but even now it wasn't to be #and yet I do hope that there's some redemptive good that might be wrought out of this

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dragons-bones · 3 years

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FFXIV Write Entry #2: Cursed Covenant

Prompt: aberrant || Master Post || On AO3

“Do you even know how hard it is to make the front page of the Eye for a night of drunken debauchery?” Rereha said disparagingly, pulling herself up onto the chair.

The newspaper—indeed, a copy of the Mythril Eye, its front-page reporting on the aftermath of an orgy-turned-somnus-bust in lurid detail—being held in front of the table’s other seated patron folded over, and Nero glared at the lalafell over the rims of his tinted glasses. “First, don’t think I didn’t notice that deliberate choice of word in there,” he sniped, and sniffed derisively at Rere’s delighted, juvenile giggle. “Second, how the fuck did you know I was here?”

“Saw you from the third-floor solar of the Rising Stones,” she said, gently laying her bow on the tabletop and unceremoniously dumping her pack next to it. “And ain’t no mistaking that particular combination of platinum blonde hair and bloody red doublet. If you don’t want to be recognized from a distance, wear blue.”

“I’ll wear blue when Synnove decides she isn’t going to decapitate that Hannish fop with her bare hands.”

Rereha cackled in amusement, tipping her hat in a salute as Nero snapped his broadsheet back into place, and gave the waitress her breakfast order when the hyur came over.

Gloom hung over Mor Dhona, as it was wont to do five times out of six; Synnove had stayed overnight after conferring with Urianger and the twins (the elezen ones, not the carbuncle ones) about something arcanima-related, but had immediately teleported home to Limsa Lominsa that morning as soon as the weather began to turn, her face twisted into the peculiar grimace she wore during a synesthesia-induced migraine. Heron was assisting Slafborn with some sort of planned sortie with a number of other adventurers deep into gigas territory, and Alakhai had been gone to who-knew-where before anyone else had awakened, while the rest of the Scions were scattered about Eorzea on assorted business.

And Rere, not having any current immediate obligations since the Twin Adders had her out on permanent ‘loan’ to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, had spotted Nero sitting at a back table on the House of Splendors’ patio among the breakfast rush, and decided now was as good a time as any to see about implementing a little idea of hers.

A fun little idea she’d been rolling around her brain for a while now.

Rereha grinned into her newly arrived tea, and settled to the task of devouring her breakfast. Never conduct business on an empty stomach, after all.

As she scraped the last of her cheese-smothered scrambled eggs and smoked sausage and dragon pepper sauce into a pile of gooey, greasy goodness, Nero closed his newspaper and folded it in half, tossing it onto the table next to his own empty plate. He stared at her as she shoveled her perfect final bite into her mouth.

“All right,” he said waspishly, picking up his coffee mug, “what is it that Eorzea’s premier degenerate wants?”

She chewed thoroughly and swallowed, because while she was a degenerate, but she was a degenerate with manners. As she dabbed her mouth clean with a napkin and pushed her plate aside, Rere said, “I’m hurt, Nero. You’re a friend! I like to spend time with my friends, even the ones who wanted to shove me into a primal-eating warmachina at one point just to see what would happen.”

The lalafell smiled, angling her head just enough that she was sure she could catch the morning sunlight on her teeth in a blinding smile against her dark skin.

Nero pushed his sunglasses up his nose, and took a pointedly loud slurp of coffee.

Rere pouted. “Damnit, too thick again.” She glanced at him and said, sly, “It’s like your accent when you get too worked up and slip back into Garlean, the Echo translates it so you sound like an Eastern Thanalani hick who’s never had tea served properly with goat’s milk.”

“That’s more like it,” the Garlean muttered into his cup. He frowned, then, and tilted his head at her. “Why wouldn’t one have goat’s milk with their tea?”

“Argh!” Rereha shoved her hat back and faceplanted onto the table, hands flat next to her face. “Stupid northern farmer stock, stop making my insults fall flat!”

“Get new material. Get to the point, too, while you’re at it.”

“Fine, fine.” She grabbed her pack, opening it and digging into it. After a moment’s rummaging, she yanked out a rolled-up piece of parchment, and shoved the pack aside once more. Dropping it next to her, she crossed her arms on the table and stared at Nero. “I want you to build me a bow. A very special kind of bow.”

His sunglasses of course hid his eyes, but she recognized that particular twitch of his left cheek that usually meant he was interested. “And why should I do that?” he said, because he wouldn’t be Nero if he didn’t play a little bit hard to get.

Rereha smiled, and held up a finger. “One,” she said primly, “Cid won’t, because he doesn’t create weapons. We are going to ignore the whole thing with the G-Warrior, because we shouldn’t judge a man wanting to get his grubby little engineering hands all over a hot pristine Allagan warmachina.”

Nero muttered something that sounded like, The audacity of not telling myself or Synnove.

She didn’t comment. That had been very rude of Cid.

“Two,” she continued, raising another finger, “this would not be Synnove’s specialty. She likes engineering, but this requires precision and knowledge currently outside her wheelhouse, and while I have no doubt she would become a master in the course of this project, I’d rather not wait the extra time this will take.”

He hummed noncommittally; he’d become significantly less likely to bristle at the mention of other people’s brilliance in the last few years…so long as those other people weren’t present, at least.

“Finally,” Rereha said, holding up a third finger, “and most importantly: you do create weapons, you do have the precision and knowledge already to pull this off, and you have exactly the kind of creative deviousness necessary to ensure this is a masterwork.”

Nero tipped his sunglasses back down his nose, and harrumphed. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” he drawled. “What’s the project?”

She slid the parchment across the table towards him.

He picked it up and unrolled it, so it was flat before him. For a few long moments, he merely looked at it, absorbing what she had roughly sketched out, his blue eyes darting over to the corner to read some of her notes. And then his eyebrows began to rise.

“This,” Nero said, precise in a way that was deeply judgmental, “is an abomination.”

Rereha hummed in agreement.

“Absolutely disgusting.”

She shrugged, a what can you do? gesture.

Nero’s eyes glittered with manic energy as he looked at her. “I love it.”

Her grin was wide and demented and absolutely evil.

#ffxivwrite2021 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #nero scaeva #oc: rereha reha #dt's writing #gratuitous references to last year's fills

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luminescentauthor · 4 years

Text

random fun RatLD hcs

you came here for RatLD shitposts and that’s what you’re gonna get!

SPOILERS AND LOTS OF THEM BELOW THE CUT, IF U HAVEN’T SEEN IT YET PROCEED AT UR OWN RISK.

I refuse to post about this movie without acknowledging the cultural significance of the first SEA disney princess and I will continue to do so until people on this website start remembering that this movie is about amazing cultures and trust and overall a WHOLE lot more than just the sapphics (as great as they are.)

anyway, so, headcanon time, my dudes!

The Next Adventure

Talon is a total mess after everyone gets un-stoned. (Ok so just for posterity, my marvel fan brain just went “un-snapped” on instinct and I hate it here.) The two chiefs are fighting for control, and Noi, being a baby, is not really in a position to help (unlike Raya, Naamari, and Tong.)

As such, the crew has to go undercover in Talon to try and, you know, stop the chiefs from destroying their people with their infighting. Tong insists on coming. Naamari happened to be in Heart and gets dragged along by Sisu and Raya, complaining the whole time, but everyone knows she doesn’t mean it. Boun also shows up and exactly no one is surprised.

During this misadventure, Noi’s mother names Tong as Noi’s godfather/honorary uncle/whatever, undercover Naamari and Raya go “noooooo, we’re not the princesses of Fang and Heart, what on earth are you talking about???” on at least five separate occasions, and the crew discovers that Noi inherited her sticky fingers from her very clever mother. She’s basically a grade-A spy and thief but she’s also just like, genuinely a very nice woman.

Rayaari!

Raya and Naamari take a long time literally just figuring things out and reconstructing their friendship, because really, as much as I love sapphics, there’s also a whole lot of messy there, and because these are my headcanons, they work out their problems and have a healthy friendship for a couple years before any romance happens, because that’s how Real Life works and I don’t believe in ignoring those Pretty Important Things in fiction.

They do eventually start a relationship, but they take their time. A bit into it, Benja accidentally mentions that Raya told him she liked Naamari when they met. Naamari’s like “ha you did?” and Raya goes “BA NO.” Then Virana immediately says “oh yes, Naamari also liked her, she didn’t stop crying because she thought Raya turned to stone for like three days” and Raya goes “you did, hmm???” while Naamari turns bright red.

Before they start dating, as their feelings grow, they start calling each other “dep la” more and more and everyone is just kinda of like “oh my GOD just date already???”

Eventually Raya and Naamari get married and become the leaders of Kumandra. No I Won’t Change My Mind.

Unification of Kumandra

The unification of Kumandra felt a bit shoehorned, and I suspect the nations aren't united under one leader(s): it's more that they're now becoming close-knit again. Perhaps they have a meeting council of all their leaders that makes decisions that affect the whole land, otherwise that probably becomes a thing at some point.

When Kumandra eventually becomes totally unified, the capital of Heart (which I believe is on the island we see on the map of Kumandra) eventually becomes the capital. It still has five provinces/states, though.

Fang and Heart

Heart and Fang help each other out a lot with recovering from the “most of our people got turned into the statues” stuff. Heart has more resources, but most of its people have been stone for 6 years. So the two states/countries are both capable of different things.

Of all the kingdoms, Heart and Fang have the most to rebuild: Fang’s only standing city was destroyed in the finale of the movie, while Heart has been growing over for six years. Sure, Spine’s been stone for a while, and some of Talon’s docks and water ships and whatnot collapsed when the water vanished, but it’s still significantly easier to repair than “six years of overgrowth and rot and rust” or “literally the ground collapsed underneath us and wow um I don’t think that’s reparable.” So they really team up to fix it, and the others help them a lot.

The actual leaders stay in their capitals to lead until things have calmed down a WHOLE lot, so Raya and Naamari travel around Kumandra on their parents’ behalf a lot, and wind up going between Fang and Heart a lot to establish diplomatic relations and also to help with rebuilding.

Over this period, and while doing diplomatic meetings later on, Virana and Benja come to realize that the other person is actual quite decent. There’s some mess and distrust because of Virana’s thing with the Dragon Gem, but it eventually gets worked out. (Virana’s reaction is “yes that’s fair. In my defense, I was trying to do what I thought was right for my people, who were starving, but Yes, That’s Fair.” Benja’s reaction is “honestly if your people were starving from famine and you thought the Gem would help, that makes more sense.”) After a while, they become pretty good friends.

And suddenly Raya and Naamari regret everything. See, Naamari mentioned that both parents make terrible jokes. The girls are Suffering. Help them.

Sisu loves the bad jokes. Sisu also makes bad jokes. Raya and Naamari are silently dying.

It’s silly, but I like the idea that 3-4 years down the line, Virana and Benja consider getting married just for political reasons (alliance and all that) (they’re not actually interested in each other, it’s just practicality) and Naamari and Raya, who are not dating but are definitely in deep for each other at this point, are immediately like “NO. NO. DO NOT MAKE MY CRUSH MY STEPSISTER. DO NOT.”

Virana and Benja (mostly Benja) tease them by “considering” it for a bit longer, but they don’t, since they talked about it and both kids are uncomfortable with it. (”They like each other, don’t they?” Virana asks dryly. “Ohhh yeah,” Benja replies.)

Music? Music!

I was listening to a youtube mix this morning and “Too Far Gone” by Hidden Citizens popped up and it just reminded me of Raya’s attitude towards Kumandra at the start of the movie. Also it’s just a beautiful song.

“Knife in my Back” by Alec Benjamin is Raya @ Naamari before they figured things out, change my mind.

Other Stuff!

We can guess based off how long it took the crew to get from Tail to Fang even with side adventures (I think it was 3-4 days max, I wasn't totally paying attention) that one can navigate from one end of the river to the other within a couple days even in a boat like Boun's, and the royal families probably have even faster modes of transportation. (I.e. Naamari got from Tail to Fang in a couple days, then to Spine, then beat the crew back to Fang. On land.) Therefore, unlike I was originally thinking, it's actually totally realistic for the crew to be visiting each other once or twice a month.

It's even more realistic for Naamari to crash Raya's place on a weekly basis, since that's probably like six hours on cat at max.

I don't know what the cats are, so I will be calling them saber-cats until someone corrects me.

TUMBLR JUST MYSTERIOUSLY STOPPED ACCPTING MY "E" KY HLP I HAV TO US COPY PAST

Wait I think I fixed it. Crisis averted! Sorry about that.

Because Naamari is in Heart half the time, Virana visits quite frequently too. It’s not a long trip, anyway.

Virana is not straight (haircut) but I can’t decide if she’s a lesbian or what. She doesn’t have a spouse and never did. Only those Virana closely trusts know who Naamari’s dad is. Naamari does know and she’s met him, because Virana figured she had a right to. He and Virana never had a relationship, Virana just sort of needed an heir and a trusted personal friend offered to father the kid.

Tong’s wife is a total badass and instantly fits in with the crew. She and Noi’s mother quickly become very close friends.

Noi and Tong’s kid also immediately get along. As in, they constantly throw things at each other while giggling madly and both love the Ongis, and -- are they whispering to each other in that corner?? They might be conspiring to take over the world. Who knows.

Noi learns how to talk and becomes about 5 times more chaotic. Everyone is Regret (except Tong.)

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laurore-stormwitch · 3 years

Text

Post rule of wolves, about Zoya and Nikolai being soft with each other in one of the many moment of hardship they face. Zoya gets a letter that unsettles her and leans on Nikolai to face more of her demons and move on. I love how Zoya is slowly learning to open up and face her wounds, and how Nikolai is there to catch her. Feedback are always appreciated, so much love to you all

the blood in our veins - ao3

When the sound of leaves crunching under someone’s steps reached her, Zoya did not startle. She knew Nikolai would appear at some point, as he always did, as if he could sense her despair. Or as if someone played the snitch on my escape, more likely. He was the only one to have the key, beside her, and the only one to know she would take refuge here. For a moment, she lingered on what a strange sight she was making; a steel spined harpy perched amongst the wildflowers, her kefta smeared by dirt and pollen, her eyes trained on the ground and a sprout in her hands. She felt his intense gaze on her, his worry. The scent of his skin; Nikolai always tasted like salt and sunburnt skin, like the sea.

“Who ratted me out?”, she asked. He lowered himself toward her, brushing a kiss on her head before kneeling beside her on the ground.

“Tamar”, he answered, “told me you got a letter and dismissed the meeting.” More like run away from it. She would have to thank Tamar for her regard.

Zoya clicked her tongue. A letter. Her hand went in her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Nikolai. She sensed his concern turn into outrage. Zoya knew it was a matter of time before Sabina reached out to her. After all, her daughter had just become the queen of Ravka. There was no hope left in her heart that her estranged mother would not try to exploit this particular advantage. As long as she was not dead, she supposed. Which, as far as she knew of, could very well be. As it turned out Sabina was not the one Zoya should have been wondering about.

“It’s a long list of arrogant pleading. Get to the end”, she instructed Nikolai. Zoya glanced at him and saw him shook his head with a sigh when he came to the last lines.

“Zoya – “, he tried, his tone insecure, weary of what was the right thing to say. Was there a right thing to say when you lost a father you had already wiped from your mind? The word lost probably was not even fit for the situation.

“He’s been dead a couple of years, apparently. She did not even bother to say how.”

There was no grief left inside her to tug at. No sentiment to pull and mourn over. Nothing left for them, for him. There was just a void lurking next to the well inside her, in which so many stones had tumbled. It was not endless anymore; it stopped right beside her, where Nikolai’s light flooded in through the cracks in her walls. Zoya tried to look for something to hold on to, something to guide her over this empty sea of nothingness. No love, no regret, no pain. The sorrow in the well had always been for Lilyiana, for Lada. For David, for the Grisha, maybe even for herself. A monument to her solitude. None of it was dedicated to the two young people who had given her breath. Yet she felt the void, like it had form and claws that pierced at her heart. Its fingers tied around her throat, squeezed the air out of her lungs.

“I thought maybe I should plant something for him, too. I – I don’t know.”

She murmured. Her voice came out more frail than she had desired to, more vulnerable. Nikolai moved closer, his shoulder brushing on hers. She grasped at that touch that anchored her on this moment, that prevented her from losing herself.

“I don’t know what the Suli ritual is.” The defeat in her tone sparked a flicker of injustice. It was supposed to have been over; the child that did not look back on a wretched church was supposed to have grown. Such restless waters she had had to navigate. How does one separate hatred from fear, love from abandonment, rage from regret?

“We could find out.”

“There’s no time. There’s no time anymore.” To know him. To understand. To take the child in her hand and protect her in an embrace. Faintly, in the distance, Zoya felt Nikolai’s hand on her back, his lips landing again on her cheek.

“Why did you choose this?”, he asked, bobbing his chin at the sprout she was holding, at his light blue blossoms.

“I’m not sure”, she sighed. “When I was very little, there was always a glass of forget-me-nots on the kitchen table. My father used to bring them from the fields at sundown. He stopped before my sixth birthday.”

Zoya never knew what they meant. Her mother told her they were the colour of their eyes, weaving them in her hair. She had felt like a princess in a fairytale, with a crown of blossoms.

“Inej told me the Suli have a saying about love. Her father says that you would know a boy truly loves you when he brings you your favourite flowers. I figured that is why our house was full of them, at first. Maybe these are for both of them. Maybe I should bury my mother too.”

What a sombre, depressing thought, she half expected Nikolai to say. Instead, he just reached for her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, watching her in silence. So she forced another sentence out, one that stung to admit. “I thought I did that already the moment I set foot in the Little Palace. I thought they could float away like a river in the sea, instead I just built a dam that feels dangerously close to shatter.”

The quiet stretched on. “I don’t know what they are”, Nikolai admitted. “Your favourite flowers. I don’t know them.”

She moved her gaze to him and wondered what he was seeing. If he had already grown tired of her, of her dark moods and brooding tendencies. Those fears clutched her heart on her worst nights. Was he catching the sheer sentiment in her eyes, the fire that burned for him inside her? How she grasped at his voice like it was the thread that tied her to safety, to belonging? Whatever her failings were, Nikolai’s look never wavered. His certainty, affection. He was the one keeping the dam from falling, keeping her from breaking.

“You told me once I could be branches without blossoms and wait for the summer to come. The way you love…it’s not the fleeting beauty of petals. It’s the strength of roots.”

She spoke before having the chance to think about her words, not sure what she had wanted to convey, pressed by an unfamiliar urge to let him know. Saints, Nikolai was rubbing off on her. His eyes sparkled and he looked taken aback, a fond and surprised smile tugging at his lips. Zoya let his warmth creep into her, before moving back to look at the flowers still resting in her hands.

“I don’t have a favourite one. I like them all.”

Nikolai nodded, his fingers lingering in her hair, brushing through them. “Good to know. See? You are not such a difficult person after all.” Zoya heard him move beside her, sensed his fingers draw away. He gently pulled the plant in front of her. “Let me do it for you”, his voice soft, caring. Let me carry this weight for you. Her hands dug into her kefta, clinging into it as if it could make her remember who she was.

Nikolai pulled his gloves away. She snatched them from him, huffing impatiently. It really was an unnerving habit of his. “Would you stop with these? You do not need them around me. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“Don’t take it out on my gloves”, he grinned at her. Yet, she caught the shadow sweeping through his eyes; the darkness Zoya had never wanted him to hide. He worked in silence, moving the terrain away, placing the sprouts and watering them. Zoya stood still, one hand clung to her kefta, the other tightened around his gloves, watching him as he took care of her garden for her.

“My mother was loud”, she said abruptly. Water leaking from the cracks. Nikolai’s gaze swept toward her as he kept going. There was no other person she could tell this to. Stories needed to be told, She had learned. “Sabina kicked and screamed her way into our misery. She shouted her wrath; she broke the ceramics on the floors, spewing spite. She weaved sweet lies that stuck like sap into my ears, before wiping my tears as I stood in a ridiculous ruffled dress.” Zoya sighed, seeing her memories flash in her mind. She did not want to feel this. She did not want to know. But Juris’ wisdom was unforgiving. “Her frustration, her selfishness. Everything was like thunder. Maybe that’s where I take it from.” A dry laugh escaped her lips, as she forced herself to say what she knew had been the truth this whole time. “My mother was loud. Yet, it was my father’s silence that broke me. That was what carved the hole inside of me. The way he let everything happen, his head slumped on his shoulders, his mouth shut. The emptiness of his affection. It gave me the guilt of not being enough, of not being worthy.”

Zoya kept going, averting Nikolai’s eyes. “Yelling is easy to counter. It enrages you, fires you up, picks at your pride. Silence is different; it cuts you slowly, drains your blood drop by drop, renders you powerless. How do you fight a wall made of nothing?”

His gentle touch moved to her jaw, tracing the lines of her face, grounding her to earth.

“I feel it. I can see it.” Every word she got out seemed to force a split into the void. Warmth flood in, rage went out, passing through her like a blade. The dragon's eyes had opened, whether she had wanted it or not. She felt like drowning. “How unprepared they were. How powerless. The hatred that grew around their souls like thorn wood. It’s the same they have set upon me. I do not want that. I do not want this to be their legacy for me.”

Legacy. What was hers, in this life, and what was theirs? Zoya had Sabina’s eyes, Suhm’s wavy black hair. It gave her comfort to think her pride and her strength came from Lilyiana. Her wind and lightning was born from the making at the heart of the world. What, then? What had they been like, when they were just a boy and a girl in love, dancing under the moonlight? She had shrugged her name as if she could be born anew. Tossed the memories of them as if she could build a new life. That she supposed she had done, at least. Even with this new name, this new life, something of them still remained. The poisoned blood in her veins if nothing else. She could not cut them open and change it, and she had spent her life feeling it flow like a curse through her.

“I cannot go on hating them.” The words were spoken as a shameful confession, as a defeat. As a realization too, however. Nikolai laced their fingers together, making her relent the hold on the kefta.

“Perhaps we should not hate them”, he said, careful and gentle. “Maybe the secret is that we need not pass judgment over them. Maybe the secret is to forgive them.”

Zoya shook her head at Nikolai’s relentless goodwill and optimism. He had forgiven his mother that day in Os Kervo. He had forgiven the one who was not his father, he had delivered his punishment and moved on. And Zoya? She did not have any forgiveness left in her. The hatred, though. Whatever remained of it, she guessed she could try and leave it here, with the blue blossoms thriving from the earth like forgotten hope.

Their legacy might have been just thorns, storms, and thunders. It might have been just the spite that had threatened to rot her insides. Still, it was an inheritance she could find the strength to relent. She could keep their eyes, their blood, Sabina combing her hair and Suhm telling her a goodnight story in his arms, even if she did not miss it, even if she did not remember what that felt like. Zoya was not Nikolai, she was not golden nor kind. She could not justify their weakness; she could not pardon both the screams and the silence. Maybe you could let go, though. She wasn’t sure if it was Juris’ voice or her own to cut through the mist of thoughts. Zoya bleeding in the snow. Zoya crying on her own. Let go.

The dam had broken, but the dragon queen did not drown. Hours could have passed, or minutes. Nikolai had put his jacket on her shoulders, the fabric thick and warm. He had not spoken anymore, just sat with her in the quiet as the sun disappeared. At some point, when the chill had started creeping in her bones, he had tugged her up and walked her to her chambers, dismissing the Heartrender twins who stood guard on her door with a wave of his hand. Zoya had let him handle her, leaning in his touch. Only when the lock clicked, she had let herself release her breath, slumping in her favourite velvet sofa. The crackle of the fire was comforting. Nikolai had called for tea, murmured something in her ear she did not remember. He had sat on her desk next to her, working through some documents while she got back to herself. The familiar rhythm of their quiet caught on, enveloping the room, soothing as a cold cloth on an open wound.

Time did not matter anymore. Zoya had the cup in her hands, the fire in front of her, and Nikolai’s jacket still curled around her. His scent was tight on the fabric. It lulled her into a silent calm, along with the rhythmic pounding of her heart, the sound of Nikolai’s pen scraping the paper, of his hands scribbling, the muffled huff of his breath. Peace washed over her in a tide.

“What is it like?”

Zoya suddenly spoke, after what felt like an eternity. The tea had turned cold. She kept her look trained on the fire. Nikolai stilled, relenting whatever piece of work he was doing, arching a brow at her. The question was vague, at the very best. “Not being an only child”, she added. Now his attention peaked on her.

He shuffled back the papers on her desk, got up and came to her. Moving her feet away, he eased himself on her sofa, letting Zoya stretch her legs over him, resting his hands on her calves and leaning his head on a cushion. His careful look never left her face, turned thoughtful as her question travelled his mind.

“I adored my brother”, Nikolai started, slowly, “Worshipped him. Loved him with every fibre of my being. Until I did not anymore. We were not bound, or tight, and well – we all know how that turned out. It was an embarrassment and a weight, more than an anchor like I desired him to be. And I did desire that a lot.”

Zoya looked at him. She left the cup on the nightstand; as soon as her hands were free, Nikolai snatched one of them in his. “And Linnea?”, she asked. An affectionate smile curled his lips.

“Linnea is…different. I feel the kinship – and not just because we both have a soft heart for ships. I know she is me, for some part, and I am her. She’s more grounded than me, more quiet, more practical.” He brushed a thumb over her palm, tightening the hold. “I guess that’s why she likes you. I am quite scared at how much you two get along, frankly. And she has this creative, restless energy, she is charming in her own silent way, brilliant. Sometimes it’s like I’m looking inside some sort of distorted mirror. In some life I may have had if I took a different path.”

Yet, the choices they had been forced to make forged a solitary childhood for them. A lonely boy looking for sounds to fill his deafening silence, a vengeful girl screaming her rage over lost love. Had they been choices at all? When had they stopped being their parents’ sins, and had they become their own? How long can you blame a mother’s failings, how long can a daughter or a son be defined by rage and guilt? Zoya could see the same query behind Nikolai’s eyes. He spoke again, tentative, a vulnerable edge to his voice. The lonely boy, looking for hope in the vengeful girl.

“I want her to know me. I want her to care for me, to be honest. I feel protective of her. I feel like I cannot wait to show her every wonder I know of. The wonder of life, of adventure. The wonder of romance”, he managed to wink at her, “I wish to be for her the brother Vasily never was for me. To make up for lost time. This is idiotic, right?”

He huffed at the end, as if he could dismiss the intense desire for a family that still haunted him; there was a slight plea in his look, darkened under the dim light of the fire. Zoya felt an ache in her throat, and she knew there were tears in her eyes. She could feel them clouding her sight. They belonged to the little raven-haired child that silently cried alone in a corner, in all her nightmares. It was not a cry for grief, but one of deluded wanting. She leaned in, brushing some golden strands from Nikolai’s face. He was looking at her like she was his light in the storm, even though he had just been the one to pull her back from a devouring pain.

“We should have her here more often”, she said. Nikolai wiped one of her tears away. “We should have them here more often. Linnea and your father. You deserve to have this family, Nikolai.”

Nikolai stopped his hand on her neck, grinning wider at her.

“Zoya, I already have one.” She frowned at him.

“I hardly count as a family. I am just me.”

“Then I’ll have two. So long as you stop referring to yourself as just you.” Zoya rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. He started fidgeting with a loose silver bead on her kefta’s cuff. Another unnerving habit of his, the way he always snatched those away. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I wasn’t an only child. I would have had someone to shield and someone to shelter in. To give me purpose, I suppose.”

A little brother, a little sister whom she could watch grow up and think how much better than her they were, how much softer, how much worth preserving. Though it had not been like that, for Sabina and Lilyiana. It was best not to linger on what ifs. She huffed and shifted, suddenly nervous; time to face this problem head on. “You think I should help her, right?”, she asked, knowing damn well what the answer was. Needless to say, Sabina’s letter pleaded for Zoya’s support, lamenting her misfortunes, and praising her daughter’s victories. Especially the gifts she could share. Even if she had not stated it, Zoya was sure that a jewel or two would be just fine. Greedy and hollow like she remembered.

“I think you should do what makes you comfortable.” Zoya shot him a threatening glare, and he chuckled. “Fine”, Nikolai added, “but don’t kill me. I think you’ll keep the weight on your chest as long as you do not help her. I think maybe it would bring you some peace to do it. Still, I support whatever decision you make.” He marked the last words, and she knew he meant it.

“I don’t want to be the bearer of my mother’s misery.” Zoya despised herself a little while admitting it. An exasperated grunt erupted from her as she threw her hands in the air. “How can I feel responsible for her?”

“I guess that’s the curse of being a daughter. You can’t relent the blood in your veins, not anymore that you can ignore the good heart that thrived inside you behind all of your spite.”

Maybe the secret is that we need not pass judgment over them. Maybe the secret is to forgive them.

How she loathed when Nikolai was right. It made him insufferable. And unfortunately, he was right most of the time. Unbearably reasonable. He smirked, as if he could read her thoughts and sense his victory.

Zoya might have been an angry and unloved little thing, but that was not what she was anymore. She had been a soldier, a general, a loyal friend. She was a queen now. And most certainly not alone, she thought, gazing at the confident ball of sunshine seated next to her. Had this happened before the war, before knowing Nikolai, her crueler and colder heart would have prevailed and she wouldn’t have thought twice on this, burning the letter along with her sentiment. The beaming boy had definitely rubbed off on her.

“I can not forgive her, or them. I do not have it in me. And I cannot forget, not for now”, she said, cautious. That was what Lilyiana had always desired for her: to release the hold on her anger. For her, she could try. “But I can start by letting go. We can find her work in a factory, with a salary and some retirement money. I can provide her with a dignified life. That is all I can do. I will not get a letter from her anymore; I will not grant her audience or listen to her words. Someone will have to deal with this.”

Juris roared inside her, clearly displeased. Hush, you lizard. How irritating of him. Be a dragon, bide your time and stop harassing me. Enough progress for today. Nikolai, on the contrary, smiled at her with relief, nudging her closer.

“We will arrange it.” He let her rest her head in the crook of his neck, curling his arms around her. “Do you think you can close your eyes and rest for a while now?”. His voice was already coming from afar, as she inhaled deeply in his skin and her lashes fluttered closed with exhaustion. Zoya wished her days as queen would become less tiring, and she also wished they could always end in Nikolai’s safe hold. Her mind fell silent; the last thing she heard was his whisper hovering around her. “I got you, Zoya.”

Zoya could still be a daughter, could take the raven-haired child in her arms. Daughter of the wind. She could still be whole, worthy, and loved. We see you. She could be at peace. The world went black; yet, it was not dark.

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