#and yes both the dragons only appear in the final fight

[ganondoodle]

rough beast ganondorf design + sketches + notes design combines the typical boar form (dark beast + cloud form from botw), the oni one (demon king gan) hint at the draconic one to come but keep part of his humanity with his clothing being mostly intact

as the battle with Demon King Ganondorf comes to an end, the sages previously knocked out start to wake up again, he is cornered and hurt and as fear of being imprisoned, tortured and exploited overwhelms him he transforms into the Beast form, breaking the arena you were fighting him in and him going for Zelda as she is the biggest threat (he remembers her destroying dark beast gan and she reminds him of sonia, who is the one you sealed his human body back in the day)

you and zelda flee through the cracks of the earth as more earthquakes happen with a beast at your heels thats now truly only out to kill as fast as possible as he burrows after you (first sketch)

the path takes you both just below the surface and as you are trapped in a dead end zelda shields herself and link with her light shield ability, which protects you both from immediate damage but cant soften the impact from gan charging at you, the impact of which breaks you all three to the surface and the battle takes place in the same spot as botws dark beast fight-

fight is very challenging as gan is smaller than the dark best version, jumping and charging at you while still able to cast spells, now truly throwing everything he can at you in the hopes of ending you both

fight ends with you shooting an arrow at zelda, her deflecting it at the right angle and it shooting off the enigma stone on gans forehead; he falls seemingly defeated and as zelda runs to take the stone away gan through sheer panic lunges for the stone triggering his dragon transformation and making way for the final fight

(summary of the end: in the final fight gan snatches up both link and zelda once he transformed into the black dragon and takes flight toward the sky, zelda falls from between his teeth and knowing that she cant get to link and help him in any way from the ground she, while falling, takes out the enigma stone she has kept in a save container in her backpack all this time and swallows it for her own transformation, in her white dragon form she takes active action and charges at gans head so link is freed, then supports him in the fight itself; at the end link plunges into dragon-gans mouth to reach the stone on the inside where he makes use of the 'medicine' previously made using the moonbloom taked from kogas secret lab, link and the stone are spit out and as gan reverses into a human and falls link is caught by zelda and he uses the second charge of it on her to bring her back as well; as all three fall from the skies as the sages have made their way through the tunnel that beast gan made earlier, they help link and zelda getting to the ground safely while the yiga do the same for gan - final end end isnt determined yet but this is waht i got so far and even if i have written this once before i felt it was fitting to do it again and no you cant tell me this is too much of a wishfulfillment thing bc it literally is just that as i cant actualyl change whats in the game, so even if im trying to make it all fit well together i can still do what i want nhakjdbgshdbhsjka)

(totk rewritten project)

[talaok]

Since all the nominations for Emmys, I need one fic where reader is either video calling or with Pedro when nominations are announced. Somethig fluffy and full of emotions cuz Pedro deserves all of this 😊

a/n: this ask skipped the line just cause I felt that if I posted this next week it wouldn't have made as much sense, so yeah here it is (also, I’m so happy for him and Bella, like omg man)

Today was the day.

Pedro was never usually one to care about this stuff, yes he was grateful, and yes he was happy, but no other time had he felt this electricity in the air, this buzz telling him that something was about to happen... something good of course.

He had set up his tablet on the coffee table in front of the couch, waiting for the announcement to start, but he hadn't even managed to sit- he was too nervous, too excited.

A ringing sounded through the room all of a sudden, and after an initial scare, he smiled, glad you finally could call him.

You were on set. In Vancouver. A thousand miles from him.

"Is it on yet?"

Your eagerness spurt through the screen.

And he thought he was exited

"nope"

"what? How much longer?"

He glanced at the screen, feeling a tiny goosebump traveling up his back at the countdown.

"two minutes"

"Oh my god!" You squeaked, smiling so wide your cheeks almost hurt "how are you feeling?"

"nervous" he chuckled drily

"Oh c'mon, what about? We both know you're gonna crush it"

"I hope so" he sighed "God I don't know why I care so much" he laughed "The only important thing is that Bella and the show get nominated"

"And you, of course" you chirped in

He tried to fight a smile, but it still pulled at his lips "Well if there's room..."

"There you are" you nodded, your smile fading ever so little after a brief moment "god I wish I could be there"

"Me too" he agreed "but at least w-" a noise in the direction of the coffee table caught his attention

"Oh shit, it's starting"

"shit, go go go go" you mumbled, feeling all too powerless in your position.

He sat down in front of the screen as the announcers appeared on it.

"what are they saying?"

"uh- just their names and stuff"

"ok-"

A moment passed 

"what about now?"

He laughed, ever so thankful for your presence "Still that, sweetheart"

"fine, just- tell me when they start telling the categories"

"ok ok here we go" 

"what is it?"

"talk series"

"Bo-ring" you huffed, making him chuckle "I want the good stuff"

"they're doing reality programs now"

"oh my god! it's like they want to torture us"

...

"Oh shit" 

A pit created itself in Pedro's stomach

"what?"

"lead actor in a drama series"

"oh my god" you screeched, doing a poor job of trying not to freak out "C'mon baby I know believe in you"

"jeff bridges... Brian cox... Kieran Culkin... Bob Odenkirk..."

come on come on come on

His mouth widened as he let out an incredulous breath.

"baby?" you called, already knowing but wanting a confirmation "baby pl-"

"I got nominated"

"I told you!" You basically screamed, jumping out of your chair "I told you, baby! I'm so happy for you! You deserve all of it babe, all. of. it." 

"I can't believe this" he smiled, his eyes glimmering with that spark in his eyes he only got whenever he was truly happy "This is crazy"

"Well believe it baby, you're an Emmy nominee"

"I just-" he interrupted himself as the next category was announced "shit it's best actresses"

You nodded, trying to cool down while really just mindlessly pacing around your trailer 

"Bella Ramsey!" he laughed "Bella Ramsey! They did it! I knew they fucking would"

"oh my god!" you grinned "What a power couple"

"I know right?" he chuckled "I'll have to call them I-" and once again, the announcers interrupted his train of thought.

His gaze moved from you to the tablet again.

"best drama series?"

He only nodded, clearly all the anxiety coming back.

"Andor... Better call Saul... the crown... House of the Dragon..."

he fell silent as his eyes came back to you, and this time... this time they shined with tears of joy.

"yeah?" you asked, feeling your heart beating out of your chest.

"yeah," nodded.

You felt your heart and chest and body fill with pure joy as you let some tears fall from your eyes.

"you did it baby" you sniffled "I knew you would. You deserve it, all of it" you smiled, wishing with all your heart you were there to hug him and kiss him and whisper in his ear

"How are you feeling?"

He laughed "I don't even know, I just- I think I need time to process this" he smiled, his hands slightly shaking "A-Are you ready to go to the Emmys?"

"are you?" You laughed, quite literally quivering from the excitement

"As ready as I'll ever be"

[star-girl69]

hi! I have a request for you if possible. the royal family visits the north for a tournament, and aemond names his queen of love and beauty at the festival. some fluff with aemond adapting to the cold with the reader

this is such a cute request i love it i think i went a little off with this ask but the main part of it is still there and also the ending is horrible i’m sorry y’all 😭

warnings: mentions of violence

Queen of His Heart

—-

“If I do not get in front of a fire soon, I’m going to freeze to death.” You rolled your eyes at your husband’s antics.

“You will not,”

“I will.”

“Stop bickering,” Alicent muttered. Not wanting to disrespect your good-mother, your quickly shut your mouth. Aemond only smirked.

The yearly tournament was being held at Winterfell, and the entire royal family was not looking forward to the cold. They were fire made flesh, dragons. And regardless, they had spent all of their lives in the warm south. You included. As a Baratheon Lady, you had been courted by Aemond what seemed to be many moons ago. You had fallen in love, and you were convinced that you were the luckiest woman in Westeros.

Once you got past Aemond’s possessive tendencies, he was quite sweet. His worry only came from love for you. And his idea that you were meant for him and only him. Of course, you did love him, and you were one of the highest ranking women in the Seven Kingdoms. Your life could be worse.

Aemond was right. It was cold. You involuntarily let out a shiver, and Helaena joined you. You smiled at each other through the cold.

“Aegon. Aemond. Put fur’s over your wives.” Alicent sighed, turning to the window.

“Yes, mother,” Aegon murmured, reluctantly placing a heavy fur over Helaena. Jaehaera and Jahaerys played at your feet, Helaena already seeing to their warmth.

“Forgive me, my love,” Aemond murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You smiled, and he wrapped two furs around you, clearly trying to one up Aegon. They exchanged a glance.

“My wife, have another.” Helaena murmured a quick thank-you as another fur was placed over her.

“Do not start a fight, you two.” You scolded, already feeling Aemond grab for another.

“Is it a crime to make sure our wives our warm?” Aegon scoffed, and for once, Aemond agreed with him, nodding.

You grabbed Helaena’s hand. “Do not pull us into your rivalry.” They both turned away, pouting slightly. You and Helaena giggled.

“Perhaps just one more-”

“Do not place those furs on me, Aemond.”

—-

The rest of the ride had continued normally, but you had arrived at Winterfell rather late. There was time for a small feast, before everyone retired, exhausted from travel.

“Come to bed, my love.” You rolled around in the furs and silk sheets, missing Aemond. He appeared from around the corner, eyepatch missing. The blue sapphire shined, making him look like a gift from the gods. “My Aemond,” You whispered as he climbed into bed beside you. You always made sure to praise him, knowing he was insecure about his eye.

“Yes, yes, yours.” He muttered, clearly embarrassed. You giggled, reaching through layers of fur to find him. When your bodies finally touched, he grabbed at your quickly. He could not stay away for long. You settled your head on his chest, as an arm wrapped around your waist and another scratched your scalp.

“You’re cold,” You splayed your hands across him, hoping to warm him up faster.

“But my heart is not,” You smiled again, playing with a loose strand of his hair. “Tomorrow I shall win the tournament, name you my Queen of Love and Beauty.”

“But am I the Queen of your Heart?” Your fingers trailed down his chest.

He grabbed your hand with his own, placing it over his heart.

“So, yes. I am the Queen of your Heart.”

“Go to bed, woman.”

—-

The next day was colder, and the sun was obscured in the sky. You, Helaena, Alicent, and Aegon had been sat in the box, wrapped in furs and surrounded by several fires. Aemond always said he did not care for tourney’s, but after Aegon refused to participate, Aemond just had to one up him.

You tuned out most of the rounds, watching as he won all of them. You cheered and shouted along with Helaena, who seemed quite happy in the cold. The pink across her cheeks complimented her well, and the twins had been delighted to see snow. That put her in a good mood, that not even Aegon could sour.

Aegon was sulking in the corner. You preferred to just let Aegon be, hoping he didn’t turn on your or Aemond one day. You knew that a part of him did enjoy the rivalry, so you would be safe for a while longer. You did not fear Aegon, though. You feared Aemond.

He was all lean muscle and skill, cutting through his opponents in one versus one battle easily. He was like an arrow soaring through the forest. Impossible to catch until it was impaled in you.

You had already given Aemond your favor, and as the last competitor geared up, he turned toward you, blowing a kiss before putting his helmet on. You cousins help by smile.

“I think he’ll win.” Helaena decided.

“You have not have a dream about this?”

“No, I fear. But Aemond has won so far. I am a betting woman.” You both laughed at that, as the horn sounded for the final round to begin.

It was Aemond against a Stark son, you believed, and they were both very talented. While you always supported Aemond, you couldn’t help but feel some worry for him in your stomach.

“He better win, I was promised to be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty.”

“Oh!” Helaena exclaimed as the two men met in the middle, both managing to stay on their horses. You hadn’t been paying attention, but Aemond would most likely recount it for you later.

They went again, both barely hanging on. You could see Aemond start to get angry. Most of his opponents fell quickly. This anger would cloud his mind, provide a weak spot for the Stark to get through. You walked towards the edge of the box, hanging out over it.

You waved your arms and shouted his name desperately, trying to warn Aemond of himself. Then, some part of him that would always know you were calling, even through thousands of miles and through sheets of ice and snow, through mountains, through oceans, heard you.

His helmeted face turned towards you. You weren’t quite sure how to tell him to calm down. So, you simply placed a hand over your heart, smiling softly.

At first, you weren’t sure if he could see. Then, you saw his anger dissipate, fade back into a proper stance. He didn’t respond, but you knew he saw.

The Stark boy fell off his horse, and you were crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty. But the title you cared about more was the Queen of his Heart.

—-

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 24th of April, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 24th of April, 2024

Question: Does King Charles want Prince William to reconcile with Harry, and if so, why?

Interpretation: King Charles wants the arguments and tension between the brothers to stop because he can't cope with it (this is 'Don't make my last years a misery' territory).

Note: A lot of this reading is nothing new, but rather confirmation of what we already know or suspect.

Card One: The World

The World is a card of endings, of something coming to a successful conclusion. It usually involves looking back over what you have done and noting the successes and failures before you move on.

As an answer to my question, the energy from this card says yes, The King does want Prince William and Harry to reconcile. He wants the hurts/tensions/disagreements between them to be over, done with, finished, and for them to move on into a new relationship where they support each other or at least give the appearance of supporting each other.

As an answer to why, this card tells me that King Charles sees the failed relationship between the two brothers as a sign of failure on his part, and it is something he wants to fix before he 'moves on' to another plane of existence. I think that King Charles has been reviewing his life lately and he wants his last years to be with the illusion or reality of a happy, supportive family around him. I also think that he is quite upset that Prince William will not 'forgive and forget' to give him that illusion/reality.

Card Two: The Eight of Swords in reverse

The Eight of Swords is about being stressed mentally. You are in a situation and you can't see a way out. When it is reversed either the situation is a lot worse than the upright card, or you can finally see a way out of the situation.

I think both of these meanings are true here. When King Charles looks at the situation with his sons, he feels like the Eight of Swords in reverse - trapped, unable to do anything, almost victimised - and the situation is worse than he though it would be. This is giving him a lot of stress as he doesn't want his sons to be fighting.

He thinks he has a found a way out of the situation - his sons forgive and forget, make up, and he has no more stress. This completely ignores the hurt and the invasion of privacy that Harry has inflicted on his brother and his family, but for some reason The King is not taking that into consideration.

The energy of this card reminds me of when victims are told to forgive their abusers because otherwise they are bad people/they are holding onto anger/they are destroying themselves etc, and no one ever holds the abusers to account for what they did to the victim or says that the abusers should be the ones begging for forgiveness.

Card Three: The Five of Wands

This is a card of conflict, rivalry, competition, and arguments. The card shows Jason and Medea facing off against a green dragon that guards the golden fleece. I see Jason as Harry, Medea as Meghan, and the dragon as William, the Prince of Wales. The dragon is just doing its job, guarding a treasure that was given into its care (Prince William protecting his family and, in the wider sense, the monarchy), and Jason and Medea come along and try to kill it to gain its treasure (Harry saying horrible things about Prince William and his family because he is trying to wrest his brother's 'treasure' from him, said 'treasure' being his position as the heir). In the myth, Jason succeeds in killing the dragon with Medea's help, but I don't think that is going to happen here.

The conflict between Harry and Prince William is because Harry wants to be in Prince William's position - to be the heir. Harry is aided and abetted by Meghan in his actions. These actions involve everything he can think of that will 'kill' his brother, so he can take over his brother's role, including attacking his brother's family. This is not news, it is confirmation of something that we have seen for quite some time. This card is confirmation that there is conflict between the brothers, it is initiated by Harry and supported by his wife, it works through the media and PR (wands are PR), and that it will not stop until Harry has gained his 'treasure' - the position of The Prince of Wales, heir to the throne.

It is this situation and the vicious media articles that come from this conflict that is creating stress for King Charles and that he wants to end by having the brothers reconcile. I have to say here that given the gravity of the situation and the hurt that has been inflicted upon Prince William by his brother, I think that asking Prince William to forgive and forget and make up with Harry is a rather stupid idea. I can understand The King's desire to have an end to the conflict but I don't think reconciliation is the answer, or even possible. This competition is all one sided, from Harry, and shows no sign of ending until he is either defeated or he achieves his goal of being The Prince of Wales (and, eventually, King).

Card Four: The Two of Wands in reverse

The Two of Wands is a card about planning, making plans. When it is in the reverse, those plans are not happening. The energy of this card is of plans that The King has, and wants to carry through, that are now impossible to implement because of the rift between his two sons. As for what those plans are - the Two of Wands can be a card of leaving home. The picture on the card shows a red haired man, Jason, who for me symbolises Harry, standing outside the cave of Chiron, which for me represents the BRF. In the upright, Harry has left the BRF - he is outside the family. In the reverse, as we have here, this situation is undone and Harry is returned to his family. For me, this seems to indicate that King Charles has plans to return Harry to the bosom of the BRF and that those plans are impossible to implement while there is antagonism between Harry and Prince William.

Card Five: The Ten of Cups in reverse.

The Ten of Cups is the happy family card, the card of emotional contentment. This can be a real state or, occasionally, it can be an illusion - looking at something through rose coloured glasses.

In the reverse, this state of a happy family, real or illusionary, is not happening. There is no harmony in the family, and instead the family is full of conflict. This is the reality that for whatever reason The King is refusing to face. He is trying to create this illusion/reality of a happy family and he is not facing the fact that the actions of his younger son have irrevocably shattered that happy family image and it can not be brought back.

This card tell me that the reconciliation that the King wants will not happen. The family will not be reunited and the the conflicts and competition of the Five of Wands card will continue.

This card shows a wedding on Mount Olympus, the home of the gods, which represents a royal wedding. The energy from the reversed card is almost as if King Charles does not want to admit that Harry and Meghan's royal wedding was a mistake? He doesn't want to see his son in a broken marriage or admit that his son has a broken marriage? I can't quite make the energy out - maybe sympathy for Harry in his marriage? Or The King thinks that if Harry is separated from Meghan, then everything will go back to being OK between him and Meghan (the Five of Wands tells me this is not the case and that at this point in time Harry will continue his one sided competition with his brother with or without his wife).

If Harry and Meghan do separate, then I feel that King Charles will blame everything on Meghan and say everything is her fault, and that is not what happened.

Underlying Energy: The Hanged Man

The Hanged Man is a card of inaction, of contemplation, of seeing things from a new perspective, which fits in with the energy of The World card of King Charles reviewing his life. It is also the card of sacrifice, of having to make a sacrifice or be a sacrifice, which for me resonates with his wish that his son 'sacrifice' (ignore) his hurt and the effects of his brother's attacks on his family, and make up with his brother who is continually attacking him. Finally, the Hanged Man is the card for Neptune, the planet of illusion and delusion (among other things), which tells me that The King's wish for reconciliation between his sons is an illusion that is not happening.

The Hanged Man is a card of inaction, and that is The King's position here. He can not take action and force his sons to reconcile, instead he should sit back and let them play this out between themselves instead of trying to force them together in the name of brotherly love. The Hanged Man's inaction sometimes brings a new perspective on things. It might be time for King Charles to find a different way of looking at the situation between his sons and how he would like that to be resolved.

Conclusion:

The King does want his sons to reconcile. His sons' fighting is causing him a great deal of stress and anxiety. Having them reconcile would remove that stress. He appears to have been thinking over his life and he seems to feel that the actions of his sons reflect on him and are a failure on his part. Removing the conflict would fix that failure, remove the stress that is caused by Harry's actions, and bring the conclusion that he appears to want - a happy family.

Unfortunately, Harry is attacking Prince William with a set goal in mind - to steal his brother's treasure/become The Prince of Wales - and he is unlikely to stop until this goal is achieved. The competition is all one sided, it stems from Harry and Harry alone, and for this reason it is unlikely to stop until Harry lets go of his need to be better than his brother (which in my opinion will only happen after a lot of reputable therapy, if at all). Until Harry changes, the King's wishes for a reconciliation and a happy family are going to remain a rose coloured illusion.

The King has plans that he wants to implement, plans that appear to involve having Harry returned to his family, and these plans can not be implemented with the situation between the brothers as it is. This is another reason he wants his sons to reconcile - so he can move forward with those plans.

The message from the cards is for King Charles to spend more time thinking about this situation so that he can see it from a different perspective and stop pressuring one son to sacrifice himself, his principles, and his family, for the sake of his rose coloured illusion of a peaceful life surrounded by a happy family.

[black-aurora-nora]

Beloved - You’re Never Leaving Us (Pt. 2) Fantasy AU! Yandere!BakuShima x Turning!Reader

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Katsuki and Eijirou that you were changing in ways that they hadn’t planned for.

The windows in your room were to stay boarded up and blinded to keep the sun from burning you and to keep you from escaping. 

The two men knew they’d have to put you in a windowless room since you seemed to be gaining a newfound strength as your transformation came to a close.  Those boards would be useless in the next two weeks.

And they really, really couldn’t have you escaping.

Even though you were changing, their love for you was still as strong as ever.

It was too bad you didn’t feel the same anymore.

“Here, (Y/N).” You looked away from the random spot on the bricked wall of your prison and glanced at the wooden spoon coming up to your lips, “It’s beef stew, one of your favorites.”  Eijirou reminded sweetly, staring at you with dreamy eyes.

You blinked owlishly at the wooden spoon, eyes tracing ever so slowly to his hand.

You narrowed in on a prominent vein, licking your lips as saliva began to coat your mouth.

You wondered if his blood tasted good.  A voice in the back of your head eagerly told you yes, of course his blood taste good!  

A voice further back in your head cried out for you to not do it, but it was merely a whisper that you chose to ignore.

Take a bite.

You gulped, opening your mouth as Eijirou obliviously raised the spoon to your mouth with a happy smile. Were you actually going to eat for once?  He really hoped you would, you hadn’t eaten in a few days and he was starting to get worried.

Take a bite.

Enjoy your fill. 

You leaned forward to the spoon, the scent of the beef stew wafting to your nose.

God, it reeked.  It really fucking reeked.

The hand holding the spoon, however...

That smell was divine.

In all the weeks that you’d been stuck in your prison with only your hopelessness to keep you company, you finally felt something.

You felt ravenous.

You’d never smelled something as good as whatever Eijirou smelled like right now.  No words could explain how good he smelled.  You felt drunk just from the scent.

How would you feel from the taste?

Deciding to argue with yourself no longer, you launched forward with a newfound strength that surprised both you and Eijirou as he let out a startled yelp and fell to the ground on his back.  His eyes were wide with oblivious confusion.

That changed when you took a vicious bite into his hand, blood dripping into your mouth poorly from the sorry location that you’d chosen, but you didn’t appear to care.  Your mind had gone completely blank once you got a taste of that first drop.

Eijirou was fighting you now, struggling to hold you down and get his hand away from your teeth as you growled, clearly frustrated from the lack of blood.

“KATSUKI! Shit!” The half-dragon cursed when he felt you clamp down harder.  He could get you off with ease but that would mean hurting you and he couldn’t do that.  Not even when you were trying to drink his blood.

The young king came pounding into the room, cursing aloud at the scene he’d came to and quickly bringing you to a chokehold.

Now you couldn’t free yourself, hurt yourself or bite anyone else.

You continued to struggle however, growling and salivating with animalistic fury. 

Katsuki glanced up at Eijirou, “Your hand alright?”

Eijirou waved his good hand, “Yeah, it fine, nothing a healing potion can’t fix.”

Katsuki shook his head, “No... it’s not fine. I should’ve paid closer attention to her symptoms and realized that she wouldn’t want human food anymore.” He gripped you tighter as you kicked out, “She didn’t eat for 5 days, fucks sake!”

They stayed silent for a moment, thinking as you continued to struggle in Katsuki’s grip.

“She’s definitely stronger than before.” Katsuki thought aloud, “Strong enough to break the windows and escape, for sure.” He added.

Kirishima hummed at that before sighing deeply, “I’ll go grab a prisoner from the nearby prison. No one will bat an eye if one of them goes missing.” And with that, he left the room.

You lurched again and Katsuki readjusted his hold on you. You seemed to be calming down and he took the moment to breathe in your scent and take in your warmth. 

He hadn’t held you in so long.

“Your fever’s went down, too. No wonder you’re so energetic today.” He chuckled, “Though, I’m surprised you’re this strong when you haven’t eaten for almost a week.”

You blinked the blood-craze away, eyes growing blank, “I wish you guys had let me crawl off that damned cliff.”

“Don’t say that kind of stuff, dumbass.”

“Please, Katsuki... let me go before Eijirou comes back. There won’t even be a big mess for you guys to clea-”

“I already told you it’s not happening, (Y/N). Drop it.”

“… That’s fine. I’ll get out of here one day. You guys can’t watch me forever.”

There was no response. Katsuki only held you tighter.

After about an hour, Eijirou returned, wiping his hands off, “Alright, her new room is ready and so is her late dinner.”

You were carried down a series of stairs and introduced to your new cage.

It was a big square room with a king sized bed decorated with various fur blankets, a small, caged fire place, and various items like books to keep you occupied.

But that wasn’t what you were really paying attention too.

In a far corner of the room, shivering and whimpering, was a chained man. He had rope in his mouth, keeping him from being able to say anything. Though, it was obvious he didn’t want to be in the room.

You didn’t care about that though. There was a small cut on the man’s arm, the smallest bit of precious blood leaking out onto his bruised skin.

How could blood smell so good?

When you were human, blood smelled metallic and it stung your nostrils.

Now that you were turning… there was something indescribably addicting about the smell of blood.

Katsuki let you go and everything went black after that.

You awoke feeling painfully rejuvenated and alone in your new cell.

How could you just kill that man?

How could your two dearest friends allow you to kill him?

Sure, he was a prisoner but he was paying the price the right way by spending his days in a cell.

How were you possibly going to continue living like this?

Tears trailed down your face and you sobbed into your bed.

Death would’ve been so much better than this.

Two pairs of arms wrapped around you from both sides.

“You okay?” Katsuki asked, red eyes softly taking in your features.

You pushed them both away, climbing off the bed, “I don't want to talk." I want to die.

You couldn't see them, but Katsuki and Eijirou looked at each other. Something they'd grown to do ever since you'd first been brought home.

"We know it's hard (Y/N), but we can still go out on adventures. We'll just have to go at night!" He explained simply, "And there's no need to worry about food either. The prison will always be filled with people."

Katsuki made a sound of agreement, "It's not like your killing innocent villagers. Those bastards in the prison deserve it."

You hugged yourself tight, staring into the fireplace with angry longing.

Oh how you wished to be reduced to ash and bone.

Taglist: @maggiecc

[solarsyrup]

Would love to hear your extended thoughts on totk (i haven't played it and only played about 10 hours of botw)

Oh boy! I've had a year to stew on this, so here we go!

...er, actually, before I really start tearing this game a new one, I have to acknowledge how central Breath of the Wild is to Tears of the Kingdom's shortcomings. While not championing (pun intended) Breath of the Wild, I do hope that comparing the two helps emphasize the many mistakes of Tears of the Kingdom.

Okay, with that out of the way, here's some stuff. A detailed and hopefully thorough examination of the faults of The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, yes, but ultimately: stuff.

Why begin like this? Well, because Tears of the Kingdom LOVES stuff. There is a persistent and irritating theme across the game that you'll have more fun if they just keep dumping more things in your lap. More items, more enemies, more dungeons, more plot (well, sort of), more checklists to fill out, more stuff.

The game's central theme seems to be rebuilding, emphasized both with the general beats of the plot and the emphasis of the new construction mechanics. Certain other abilities were replaced, the weapons system received a major overhaul, and in something of a first for the series, you can actually acquire allies (of a sort) to fight alongside you.

There's a lot going on! I just wish that any of it was done well. Entire areas are introduced only to be practically empty. Central mechanics are a chore of almost hilarious repetition. Many elements introduced in Breath of the Wild were actively made worse.

In short: Tears of the Kingdom is a game that hopes it can dump enough stuff into your lap that you forget it's not actually good.

(If anyone is hoping to read this entire thing, I hope your butt is comfy; that was just the preamble.)

Before anything else, let's get the basics of the plot down: Ganondorf appears, Zelda disappears, and... well, actually, that's pretty much it. While Ganondorf's return and Zelda's whereabouts (spoiler: she was sent to the past and then turned into a dragon) provide the overarching impetus for the plot, very little else contributes.

Each of the major races introduced in Breath of the Wild faces natural phenomenon that endangers them (heavily alluded to be the handiwork of Ganondorf) but are otherwise mostly inconsequential to the narrative. Each arc concludes with a member of said race awakening as a sage and offering to lend their strength to Link, after they have acquired a mineral macguffin, a secret stone that —

Oh. Right. They're literally called "secret stones".

Call me nuts, but going in blind I was absolutely certain that they would be the titular "Tears of the Kingdom". Nope. Secret stones. I guess I'm the idiot for thinking that such a long development time would leave room for a second draft.

The narrative impact of solving these crises is virtually nonexistent. While the completion of each major dungeon in Breath of the Wild both freed the associated Divine Beast to help in the final fight and provided a useful power from its champion, Tears of the Kingdom instead opts to dump a nebulous promise of teamwork and and an eerie, green simulacrum to follow you around in the wilderness.

I cannot overemphasize how poorly implemented these "avatars" are, failing in almost every fundamental way. Rather than providing useful abilities at will, the player is left chasing after a dead-eyed NPC to activate practically worthless powers only when absolutely necessary. And far from providing a sense of camaraderie, the silent and omnipresent avatars can actually be unsettling. They're also miserable in combat, serving more as meat shields than a conceivable ally. To add insult to injury, the final sage — a GIANT ROBOT, no less — is borderline useless, thanks to the game's poorly-thought-out mechanics.

The practical shortfalls of Tears of the Kingdom is such a large topic that I'm practically forced to tackle it piecemeal. While larger constructions were the focus of much of the game's promotional material, I think the smaller Fuse mechanic serves as a better starting point.

A major point of contention within Breath of the Wild was the implementation of breakable weapons. With a very small handful of exceptions (namely, the ubiquitous Master Sword and the ever-recharging Bomb rune), weapons break after a set amount of use. Tears of the Kingdom attempted to remedy this situation by introducing Fuse — an ability allowing players to attach most items to weapons, shields, and arrows, increasing their stats and potentially giving them new properties.

This is a prime example of Tears of the Kingdom brazenly dumping stuff in the player's lap.

The system is an absolute mess. First, to encourage (borderline mandate) that the player engage with this new mechanic, the plot has decided that all weapons in Hyrule have degraded because of... plot. Making them anywhere near feasible for combat relies on using Fuse, meaning the player is in a constant loop of (essentially) gluing items to their weapons. Now not only are you scrounging for weapons, you're also looking for stuff to stick on to it — and reminding yourself to do so, as it's very difficult to do in the heat of combat. Adding insult to injury, there doesn't seem to be a particularly substantial increase in weapon durability after using Fuse. Some later-game items are sturdier, but their rarity makes them unappealing as mere monster mashers.

This leads into another issue with Fuse: constantly fighting for resources. Beyond previously-established uses from Breath of the Wild (making elixirs, cooking, selling, upgrading equipment, etc.), items are now also the means by which you strengthen weapons. Should you glue that horn to a sword, or will you need it for an upgrade down the line? Retrieving an item used this way isn't impossible, but it may as well be. And considering that you'll want to go into fights with weapons pre-Fused, players will constantly be scraping together more stuff just to keep their supplies healthy.

BOMB ASIDE: Okay, please forgive a moment of very specific nitpicking, but nowhere is the Fuse issue more evident than in the absence of bombs. In Breath of the Wild they were (obviously?) used to break cracked walls and as an emergency weapon. With their very notable departure, EVERY cracked wall in Tears of the Kingdom has a chance of spitting out rocks and rusty weapons when broken, just to keep up a supply of cracked-wall-smashing implements. So now even the WEAPONS THEMSELVES are needed for progression, and you have to keep gluing them together. Great!

This also applies to the game's Ultrahand power, allowing the player to cobble together vehicles, structures, and similar devices to complete quests and achieve goals. Aside from the ever-present need to collect more stuff (in this case, Zonai parts) to begin freely assembling these devices, the plain and simple fact is that they're cumbersome and — frankly — kind of lame.

Without going too in-depth (although, hey, if you're still reading this then maybe you'd be into that), the system is a slow process with a lot of room for failure. Misplacing parts frequently sabotages entire projects, trying to move individuals components is frustrating, and the results are generally unimpressive. Sure, there are interesting builds and neat combinations, but they're almost always more trouble than they're worth. More often than not, players will simply find spare parts littered around individual puzzles, slap together whatever the devs had in mind, and move on. Rather than feeling creative or ambitious, it feels like someone simply forgot to put the game together. More stuff.

But it's a good thing you can build vehicles period, because the game introduced entire new levels of Hyrule to explore: the sky and the depths. Each is ostensibly as large as Breath of the Wild's original map of Hyrule, both near-necessitate the use of Ultrahand and its construction abilities to explore, and both are some of the biggest wasted opportunities I've ever seen in a video game.

Both the sky and the depths are absolutely barren. While there are what I would loosely describe as "points of interest" in both, they hold surprisingly little importance. Oh, there are enemies to fight and chests to open aplenty, but it ultimately just acts as more stuff. More rupees. More minibosses. More materials for more upgrades.

Stuff. More stuff.

Since I've already gone this far down the rabbit hole, here's a running list of other bad design choices in Tears of the Kingdom that I can't feasibly include in an essay-style answer but are still worth complaining about:

The addition of caves throughout surface Hyrule was poorly implemented; Breath of the Wild noticeably shied away from using them for the exact reasons they stink here (difficulty in location and navigation, clumsy climbing mechanics inside, camera difficulties, etc.)

Quest and shrine rewards were noticeably less valuable, further prolonging the grind for materials and weapons

Having to upgrade the battery for Zonai devices isn't the worst idea; having to mine in the barren-ass Depths for the ore for it IS

The sheer amount of items in the game makes navigating menus and scrolling a constant issue, and even by mid-game trying to Fuse an arrow takes a preposterous amount of time

While I enjoy the boss designs, they (and their dungeons) are almost totally irrelevant to the plot. While I guess you could make the argument that this is truer to classic Zelda formula (most dungeon bosses being an unexplained monster) I feel like it doesn't hold up as well as the Blight Ganons' personal enmity with the champions

Many promising elements from Breath of the Wild (such as the Zonai mazes) receive zero explanation, relevance, or discussion, and many frustrating elements went completely unchanged (I cannot believe the Korok seeds/inventory upgrade system is the same beteween games, the mind BOGGLES)

The Zonai receive basically zero attention, except for heavily implying that one of Link's earlier incarnations was a Zonai? What a weird thing to purposelessly shoehorn in

Zelda is sent to the past for no other reason than to justify why this game also has ancient structures and technology, making it further baffling why the Zonai are essentially an afterthought to the game

I cannot overemphasize. Secret. Stones.

Shrines are much more of a chore thanks to the aforementioned issues with Fuse/Ultrahand

The house-building system is AWFUL and, just, straight-up, absolutely fails to capture what made the home-buying subplot of Breath of the Wild so beloved

Breath of the Wild's use of Malice (limited appearance outside of major dungeons) was much better than Tears of the Kingdom's use of Gloom (spreading it like peanut butter)

(also Malice is a way cooler name)

Huge tonal clashes throughout the game (trying to play up Ganondorf as a bigger threat than Calamity Ganon vs. mushroom mayoral election?)

The Master Sword absolutely sucks and reacquiring it is a huge letdown aside from the obvious "regenerating weapon" benefit

The Goron and Zora subplots are both awful, it feels less like you're saving a society and more like you're the janitor, the Zora plotline especially is just a miserable follow-up to Breath of the Wild's Mipha arc

Both Link and Zelda have significant alterations made to them that are completely undone at the end of the story, which really undercuts the whole "rebuilding" theme of the game

As much as I enjoyed Matthew Mercer's performance, Ganondorf really doesn't have much story presence and for most of the game her kinda just slides into frame every now and then like a Saturday morning cartoon villain

Speaking of squandered characters, poor Mineru is easily one of the best newbies and she gets like, absolutely nothing

...I liked Zelda's Breath of the Wild hairstyle better THERE I SAID IT

Tears of the Kingdom is a game convinced that if it hands you enough stuff, you'll stop worrying if it's any good or not. I've read that many of the new mechanics were originally conceived as DLC for Breath of the Wild, and I don't know if the devs understand what an indictment of Tears of the Kingdom that statement really is.

Because ultimately, that exactly what the game feels like. It feels like they took a completely different game and dumped some bloat on top of it — items, bosses, cutscenes, whatever.

And one of the most insulting aspects is that Tears of the Kingdom tries to frame it as freedom. You can build whatever you want! You can choose how to solve problems! The lack of cohesion is palpable, and it makes the entire experience feel like you, the player, are responsible for putting together any fun you want to experience. It's bizarrely apathetic.

I'm honestly surprised that more people haven't drawn comparisons to the likewise genre-twisting Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts & Bolts, considering the attention on mediocre vehicular gameplay and a similarly irreverent tone to its predecessor(s). It's uncanny.

...so anyway, there you have it. I had originally planned to have some kind of robust conclusion here, but I think I'm done with writing about all this... stuff.

[aegon-targaryen]

Zelink Week Day 2 - Forbidden

read on AO3 | read on FF.net | @zelinkcommunity

Major TOTK spoilers below!

Link flexed the fingers of his Zonai hand and tried to remember the last time he’d obtained a Light of Blessing. If he didn’t need the powers that came with it, he would take the whole limb off just to make it stop hurting. Would he still be her knight, then? He had the vague sense that someone had trained him to fight lefthanded before the Calamity, but as usual, he couldn’t recall who.

It didn’t matter. He could still close his fingers around his broadsword and draw it forth, stepping out into the hollow heart of the Dueling Peaks.

Ganondorf’s imposters had all been empty and cold-eyed and alien. The woman waiting inside the metal cage was different. She wasn’t trussed up in that white Zonai dress Link knew she would hate. Instead she wore her beloved Champion’s colors and dove-grey cloak, her hair clipped back from her face and shining like a golden halo in the morning sun, looking just like the day he’d lost her.

And she was smiling at him. It was the wrong smile, girlish and carefree, not the marvel Link had kept tucked into his heart as far back as he could remember. Of course the enemy could never understand what it meant to survive what she’d survived and emerge glowing on the other side.

“Oh, Link!” she trilled. “You came to save me!”

The voice was wrong too. So was her unguarded posture. Even if Link had never found that pool of tears on the Akkala shoreline—the last gift she left him as she ascended, screaming, to the sky—he would have seen straight through this façade. Yet he found himself rooted to the spot even so.

“Well, aren’t you going to get me out of this cage?” the imposter wondered.

Link did not move.

“You’re him, all right. Blond and dumb as rocks!” She twirled away in a sunburst of crimson magic and reappeared at his side, still grinning, the choppy golden hair he’d cut himself brushing the hood of her cloak. “Don’t you have anything to say, Link?”

Her fingers slid around his Zonai wrist, burning everywhere they touched.

Whatever her intention, she went flying before she could execute it, slamming into the bars of the cage and sliding to the ground in red Yiga leathers. Her two companions burst out of hiding and charged.

Instead of retreating like they wanted, Link barreled forward recklessly, sliding right past one Yiga’s guard and falling upon the other. His sword flashed up—hooking through the center of the Demon Carver—then down, raking across the man’s arm and wrenching the weapon from his grasp in one movement. Kicking his legs out from under him for good measure, Link whirled to ram through the last Yiga’s attack with his shield, sending them both tumbling to the stone, his fist connecting with that masked face again and again.

Only Penn’s arrival brought him back to his senses. Link lurched away and let the Yiga scurry off, clutching at his shaking, gloom-cursed hand. That’s not me, he thought in horror. I’m not cruel. Zelda, I don’t know who I’m becoming without you.

“You all right, partner?” Penn asked, looking Link up and down as he handed over a pouch of Rupees.

Link nodded blankly, but he sat there a long time after the Rito left, wind threading its cold fingers through his loose hair. He thought of a warm bed, a slow morning, a body that didn’t hurt all the time, and Zelda sleeping safe and sound beside him.

Finally, he gathered the courage to touch the ring on his second finger.

Mineru appeared in a shower of blue-green light, the limbs of her construct clinking as she faced him. “Yes, Link?”

“Dr—draconification,” he said, stumbling over the big word in his small voice. “You called it forbidden. That means…she wasn’t the first.”

“Or so the stories would imply,” Mineru agreed. “The details have been lost to time.”

Link had always suspected the dragons were far from mindless beasts—Naydra had even lingered at the Spring of Wisdom as if to thank him for freeing her from Malice. Yet she, Dinraal, and Farosh circled Hyrule endlessly and pointlessly, never resting, never going anywhere. Had they been people once, too? Had they made the same sacrifice as Zelda?

Clutching his legs to his chest, he looked up at Mineru and voiced the question he’d been avoiding for weeks: “Can it be reversed?”

“Oh,” she sighed, her metal face emotionless, her voice full of grief. “I’m sorry, Link, but…not to my knowledge.”

He hid his face in his knees.

“She was certain of her choice,” Mineru told him gently. “She told me that she had more faith in you than in anything else.”

A river of agony flowed from Link’s right shoulder to the tips of his fingers. He made a sound at the back of his throat, choking on the brutal reminder of those final, gasping moments beneath the castle, when he’d let Zelda fall into a place of no return.

He hadn’t even gone to see her, except as an insect on the earth while she soared far above his head. Link had faced his own death; he’d faced the Calamity that caused it; he’d faced the shattered remains of Hyrule and found his place in it, even after losing so much else. But he truly and fundamentally did not think he could face this.

Nonetheless, he would have to. Over a century ago, Zelda had collapsed in the ashes of their burning kingdom and told him she’d sacrificed her childhood for nothing. He could not let the same be true of her humanity.

.

.

.

The Light Dragon screamed, twisting violently enough to throw him off his feet. Link clung to the sword he’d been born to wield and smothered the echoing protests of his own heart.

“It’s me!” he cried out, the deafening wind swallowing his weak voice. “It’s me, Zelda, you can let go—”

She silenced him with another roar. By some desperate miracle his boots met the soft earth of her golden mane. Even the perfect shape of the Master Sword’s hilt felt like nothing under his nerveless Zonai fingers, but there was another sensation: that of the sword reaching for the lost phantom of his real hand, reaching for the center of him.

And Link was ready. He was still ready, no matter how much it hurt.

Despite his terrible strength, he tried to be gentle—yet still Zelda screamed and writhed, and her pain drove the voice from him. Link poured everything into the blade instead: his apologies, his precious memories, all his broken-hearted love.

She yielded, relinquishing her hold, and it was over. Link raised the Master Sword towards the boundless sky, tears sliding down his face as it passed on Zelda’s final message.

By the time he opened his eyes, he wanted to burn the world down. He wanted to take her place. He wanted to tear apart everything that had ever hurt her: with this sword or any other, with his own teeth and nails if necessary. Better yet, he wanted to be back in their bed the morning before it had all gone wrong, when he still had a chance to keep her safe.

But some failures could never be undone. Link had learned that while kneeling in the sunlit waters of the Ash Swamp, remembering his own death.

He balanced between Zelda’s glowing horns, sheathing the sword so he could smooth down the moon-white fur that had been parted by its blade for so long. “Thank you,” he whispered shakily. “I—it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

She had fallen quiet, turning in a wide arc towards the Temple of Time. Link watched the green fields roll by beneath them, the tiny shapes of his brave friends at Lookout Landing, the flock of geese flying in perfect formation across the shimmering wetlands.

He loved Hyrule, he really did; for a long time, he’d considered the whole wild expanse of it his home. But that was before he’d entwined his life with Zelda’s. Now home was her face lighting up as she made a discovery, her hand cradling his scarred jaw when they kissed, the certainty that he could tell her anything and she would never turn away.

Link wouldn’t turn away either. Zelda was still there inside the Light Dragon’s wide, frightened eyes. He knew it because he felt safe and stable and calm, everything he hadn’t felt in the presence of the enemy’s imposters. He sensed her the same way he sensed his phantom arm—too much a part of him to ever be truly lost.

“We’re going to be okay,” he insisted, wishing the words didn’t feel so empty.

.

.

.

After that, Link went to see her as often as he could. He cleaned her back of loose scales, shot the Aerocudas who tried to approach, and spent hours curled up in her mane, talking to her when he could manage to find words.

The best he could say was that she was aware of his presence. Sometimes her eyes shifted towards him, and sometimes his desperation sought recognition there, but the brutal truth was that Zelda had lost herself. So the sky and the silence were all they had—all they would ever have, until the end of Link’s short mortal life left her alone again.

He held that thought at the forefront of his mind as he stood before the Demon King with the Master Sword in hand, amplified by its union with a piece of the Light Dragon’s horn.

The enemy had knocked the Sages out like an afterthought, and his strength kept growing, even as Link’s waned. Everything hurt, and his legs trembled with exhaustion, and there was nothing left for him at the end of this. Lose hope, lose the fight, someone had told him once, but he had forbidden himself hope that day in the empty place between the Dueling Peaks.

Anger, though—Link had plenty of that.

He had never been so fast or so savage. The Master Sword was afire in his hand, blazing with Zelda’s sacred light. The Demon King billowed at the peak of his crimson power, but every one of his counterattacks seemed pitiful, so pitiful that Link saw fear in his enemy’s eyes as he swallowed the secret stone.

Link hadn’t wanted to die, the first time around. He had clung to the Master Sword, to each breath, to the sight of Zelda’s wildflower-green eyes, and he’d fought so hard that he woke up a century later to find her again.

Now—trapped in the Demon Dragon’s maw, bleeding along the razor’s edge of its fangs—he was still fighting, because he could hear her call, and he could feel her piercing through the corrupted sky. When Link let himself plummet into the golden clouds, she caught him, like he’d failed to do all those months ago.

He pressed his face into her mane as she shot upwards. His sides were wet; his head spun; he tasted gloom with every breath he took. The enemy stormed after them, an undulating nightmare of mindless rage. He was always so big, and they were always so small.

But Zelda had come for Link.

And as he rose to his feet, drawing the sword she’d forged for him, he realized he had been hoping all this time. He would go to his grave hoping, no matter how much it hurt, because he loved her too much to stop.

She caught him again and again, until their nemesis roared in final agony, until his ruination faded into the beautiful dawn, until Link—trailing Rauru and Sonia’s blessing like a falling star—finally returned the favor.

At the water’s edge, Zelda opened her eyes and found him. Clutching at the miracle of his flesh-and-blood right hand, Link’s breath caught around a sudden terror that this was a dream, or another lie, one he didn’t think he would survive.

Looking just as confused, Zelda climbed shakily to her feet, making sense of the birdsong and the clear blue sky and the shapes of the Hyrule she knew. And then she tipped her face up to the sun, letting it shine upon the smile that had saved Link from his silence, conquered the Calamity, and carved her path home to him through the millennia.

Only when they were tumbling to the grass in each other’s arms, laughing and crying, did he let himself think: It wasn’t for nothing.

It never had been.

.

.

.

[bitchyglitterfox]

Remember Me - Jace x Sister!Reader

Warning: Spoilers for episode 10: the black queen, talks of death and mourning. Siblings supporting Siblings, jacerys x reader and a smidgen of Jace × reader × Luke sibling style ❤️ , angst and love. As Dia De Los Muertos approaches ima be writing more of these types

A/n: I had to write this the moment I finished the season finale like i could not not write it! But here's the little blurb I wrote. It got me all in the feels.

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

News of your little brother's death had just arrived, he had been killed riding Arrax being followed by your uncle Aemond, an accident they say. 

The moment your step father tells your 

mother she turns away from the council, once your mother shows her face to the room once more it is stoic, however you notice the tear that falls down her face. 

"That fucking bastard" you mutter out. You however are not as stoic with your emotion, you grab your sword and head towards your dragon, the rage over your brother's death is written all over your face. 

You are going to kill your once betrothed, your uncle Aemond and show him the same mercy he showed Luke. 

A hand grabs your forearm, stopping you in your tracks. You turn and see your younger brother Jace. 

"Y/n, don't. Don't do anything reckless, I can't lose you too" he says with tears beginning to form in his eyes. 

"Oh Jace," you put your hands on both of his cheeks, "I promise, come with me then, let us leave our queen and father" 

You grab his hand and lead him out of the battle room and down the beaches for Dragon Stone. Since seeing your brother's face, you've had a change of heart.

When you reach the shores you lay down your sword and bunch your dress up before sitting down. You pat the sand next to you waiting for Jace to do the same. 

When you hear him you grab hold of his hand once more, "Do you remember, when Luke was born you cried and cried because he wasn't yet big enough for you to train in sword fighting yet?" You smile at the memory. 

A small smile appearing on his own face, "yes and father had to pull me out of the room because of it, or the time when Luke was first learning high valyrian and he couldn't say Dracarys"

"Or when we all snuck through the halls at kings landing, hungry after grandsire's name day feast" you say looking at him, before laying your head on his shoulder. 

He lets out a breathy sigh, the sadness and tears evident, "I miss him" 

"As do I, it is hard but know that he is still in here," you say placing a hand on his heart,  "and will be with us forever, the world is a cruel one but no matter what we still have one another, Joffrey, Mother, Father, Aegon, Viserys, Baela and Rhena," 

He looks up at you with a smile, you kiss his forehead, as heir, you must be strong for your younger siblings and cousins. If only you'd know the great loss that would be coming. 

[sophietv]

What are your thoughts on 1975 fans trying to attribute a lot of Easter eggs to Matty in the new video? :( Someone on Twitter put a visual together of all the highlights and it’s so annoying because when it’s laid out like that I see it and I hate that I see it. Just like lighting visuals being very similar, and particular dates being significant to the 1975 and/or Taylor. For example, the July 9th 1:38 people are saying is for Taylor and Matty’s birthdays (the 13th and the 8th). I guess the timeline makes sense because early April when she filmed this video would have been around the time when she was hanging out with him and doing whatever pr nightmare that was…talk me off the ledge pls! Lol.

Hi!

Don't worry, I went and check the threads you were talking about and I'm confident that it's not related or at least not as they think.

The lighting in I Can See You Lyrics Video is the bisexual lighting and fits really well with the theme of the song.

Her comparing being in love with another woman to being a spy and having to navigate cautiously to not be seen.

The spy scene is remisnescent of a commercial she did:

(X)

And what she was trying to protect back then in the briefcase was a microphone you know to "Speak Now" maybe...

The videoclip has a lot of references to Look What You Made Me Do both MV and Eras Tour number, and I think it's very important and meant to point at Karma.

A girl, that is remisnecent of Lizz comes and save her with her beard at the time that shielded her.

All her outfit of her public appearance (X) emprisonned behing glass.

Side note on all of this is reminescent of the Tom Ford commercial Karlie did not long ago

With the lyrics video too:

Her being locked up in a Vault. With an orange door.

And the Eclipsed Sun imagery (do with that that you will ;-) )

Also some Karlie's parallel:

With Long Live lyrics on her arm.

"I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you"

Long Live was written a month after Chely Wright came out. And if you take the time to really look at the lyrics, you see how well this all fits together.

Someone counted all the marks on the wall, and there's 1468 lines/days.

The exact number of days between when her masters got stolen and her releasing Speak Now Taylor's Version (X)

When she's finally free. All the glass closet shatter.

And even more. The building holding her captive explodes once and for all.

The person who help her escape has stars on her right side (Eye theory I'm looking at you)

Stars on the face are there always to depict Taylor Swift TM public personna.

And she's the only one that can actually see Taylor and help her out.

Some say it might be gaylors, who can actually see the real Taylor.

But whoever this person is meant to represent.

She codes...

And has a ring on her right ring finger....

Now the dates:

It's tonight.

Remembre how Taylor said that Speak Now her version would be out on July 7th just in time for July 9th where we would be able to celebrate?

Now the time 1:38. The mission starts at that time. But how much time would it take to get her out? 20 minutes maybe?

Wich leads to: "Lit through the darkness at 1:58" and "That July ninth, the beat of your heart"

Both lyrics from last kiss.

To me it does sound like a rendez-vous. Now the only thing to determine is: is it 1:38 ET or 1:38 Liverpool time wich would be 8:38 ET (just before Taylor goes on stage for the show tonight).

And notice that in the countdown yesterday. Beside the clock in the front, every other clocks pointed to 1:58

And the other date is where it gets really interesting...

I found this last night.

May 22 2020

Here's what happened for Taylor on that date:

And when you type the adress, you are still led to her website with this ULR message:

"they wouldn't me do it Karma" (X)

And yes, I think it is exactly what you think it is...

Remembre how last week right before Karlie posted 6 palm trees (Karma was supposed to be TS 6th album)

The URL on karmaonthewall.com changed for "after Midnights it starts" to "Ready For It"

Suki, Austin and Kristine Karlie's sister also posted palm trees last week....

Here's a post I did about how Ready For It is relevent for all of this (X)

So yeah... everything in that MV is sooo important.

Nothing is related to Matty.

Now we just have to wait and see. And show a lot of support and love for that amazing woman who's been throught so much and deserves the world.

And after this URL change of last night... I think we can safely agree that karmaonthewall.com is really related to Taylor too...

[tiredflowercrown]

good for you (does it cross your mind to be slightly sorry?)

More people deserve to be angry, and rightfully so at that. Sooo, here yall go!

A deal had finally been struck. After years of negotiations, they finally had a way to bring every VK off the Isle. Not just VKs as well, they had managed to get non-magical villains off as well. It wasn’t justice. Not yet. But it was reparations.

Now, they just had to deal with the little details. Deals were struck between gangs. Temporary alliances were made. Secrets were kept. Children were hidden. Everything was being prepared to leave. They just needed a way.

The easiest of which was the pirate ships, however that came with the problem of the Jolly Roger. Both Harriet and Uma agreed that VKs shouldn’t be on the boat and most Villains also couldn’t be on it either due to safety concerns, but they needed the room. That wasn’t even addressing the small issue of the Lost Revenge not exactly being the most seaworthy ship. Luckily, the Shattered Hope had agreed to tow the Lost Revenge, at least to the barrier where an Auradon ship could then take over towing until they made port.

“Hey! Watch the rigging!”

The deck was filled with hustle and bustle. Everyone rushed around to prepare the ship, both for the voyage and for the mass of people that would be on board. Good spirits were in abundance, well mostly in abundance.

Uma went to grab a list of supplies from her cabin, knowing Gil’s tendencies of forgetfulness and his need for direct instructions. Quickly grabbing the list from her desk she turns to find two figures in the doorway. Jonas and Desiree. Arms crossed and blocking any exit for escape.

Her cousin's faces were stony. Despite Jonas’s nonchalant lean on the wall and Desiree leaning in the doorway, she knew a fight was coming. Uma had seen the two through a lot, but she had never seen them this serious.

“Uma, so glad we could catch you. I think we need to have a little talk.”

His cheerful tone matched with his glare mean she had fucked up. Big time.

“Oh yes, I agree. Hey Uma, have you ever thought about how six months is kinda a long period of time.”

“Especially over winter. There’s just something about the cold that makes time seem even longer.”

Her blood ran cold. Most of the crew had been content or even excited when she had returned with supplies and news of minor freedoms. No one had dared to bring up the elephant in the room of her disappearance. Until now it seemed.

“It had to be done. The dragon’s weren’t fighting for us, someone had to.” She stated, almost a plea in her voice.

“That doesn’t make up for it. We had survived this long. We would have kept going as always.” Jonas snarled, pushing off the wall and growing closer to her.

“It was November. The first freeze had already happened. Did that mean nothing? Did we mean nothing?”

Desiree’s accusations cut deep. They had been the very same things that haunted Uma when she left. But it was worth it. It had to be worth it

“I had faith in your and Harry’s abilities. You said it yourself, you’ve survived this long.”

“Oh so that makes it okay? You had faith that your cousins, who you had never put in positions of power, and the boys who love you so much that they would stop breathing if you asked them to, would be able to care for an entire crew! Harry shut down when he realized you had left! You think Harriet is an alcoholic, you should’ve seen Harry!” Desiree screamed, growing closer to Uma. Only Jonas’s hand on her arm seemed to calm her.

“You abandoned us. There are no other words for it. You abandoned us in what became the harshest winter the Isle has seen yet. You left. Yes, for noble reasons, but we are- we were your crew. Shouldn’t we have come first? As both crew and as family?” His words took a pleading tone, eyes searching for an ounce of regret in her face.

“I-”

“What’s going on here?” Harry’s voice called out. Appearing outside her door, staring at the two who stood in front of her.

“We were just leaving, weren’t we Desiree?” Jonas said, tightening his grip on his sister and beginning to pull her away.

“Just remember dear cousin. Just because they forgive you doesn’t mean we do. And we all won’t forget what happened. Not anytime soon.” Desiree spit out before leaving, shoving Jonas off her in the process.

Uma took a shaky breath, steading herself. Harry moved forward and looked over her, checking for any marks or harm that they could have laid upon her.

“What did they do? I’ll kill them. How dare they?”

“It’s okay, Harry. It’s nothing I didn’t deserve.” She comforted him.

“No. No one gets to talk to you that way. I’ll-”

“Harry. It. Is. Fine.” She grabbed his hands, running her thumb over his knuckles, “It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

His eyes softened.

“If you say so.”

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Rosalina, bursting through the door: Robin! I've figured you out!

Robin: Okay, fine! I write spicy, highly detailed fanfiction of some of the Smashers and such! I see potential and I write about it!

Rosalina: What? No. I mean about you being a reincarnation of another Fire Emblem character.

Robin: I'm sorry?

Chrom: You're going to have to walk me through this as well. 

Rosalina: Gladly. We all know that in Fire Emblem Awakening, Robin met Chrom on the ground with no memories. What follows is an honestly underrated adventure with the first custom character who is bound to be possessed by a dragon.

Robin: Okaaaay?

Rosalina: Everyone calls Robin the first Custom Character in the Fire Emblem series. But what if I told you that Robin was in truth was actually the second?

Chrom: What? But that's impossible! Who's the first?

Rosalina, grinning: The first would be Kris from the game Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem. Though, it never got a Western release, so it now only goes by Fire Emblem Shin Monshou no Nazo - Hikari to Kage no Eiyuu for the Nintendo DS. 

Marth, appearing: Are we talking about a cultured Fire Emblem game?!

Rosalina: In that game, Kris allies themselves with Marth to stop an evil threat. I'm still doing my playthrough of the game, but I'm very certain they fight a dragon at the end.

Lucina: That's all well and good, but what does this have to do with Robin?

Rosalina: Marth, what's the sword in your hand called?

Marth: The Falchion.

Rosalina: And who's able to wield it?

Marth: Those who are a part of my family.

Rosalina: And Chrom, aren't you and Lucina related to Marth? And Lucina, you wield a new version of the Falchion, correct?

Chrom: Yes.

Lucina: That's correct.

Rosalina: Robin, you and your female counterpart have had some romantic feelings for Chrom, no?

Robin: How could we not? Have you seen Chrom?

Robyn: Have you seen Chrom shirtless?

Chrom: Dear!

Rosalina: At the very least, you're good friends with him. The same can be said with Kris and Marth.

Marth: That's not really saying much. I'm pretty easy to become friends with.

Rosalina: I'm not done. In the Character Creation for Kris, you can choose their backstory, how they grew up and what type of family they came from. Be it a nobleman, merchants, or farmers. Robin didn't get that option, due to....

Robin: ...Having amnesia...

Rosalina: Now, that begs the question, where is Kris? 

Marth: Oh, um...I don't like talking about it, but during the final battle, they sustained a serious blow. They fought off the pain for a while, but couldn't survive and died shortly after.

Rosalina: Mmhm. They were around the same age as you, right?

Marth: I believe so.

Rosalina: And wouldn't you say a regret someone your age would have is not being able to fall in love and have kids?

Marth: I...suppose so.

Rosalina: And Robin, you can now fall in love and bear a child with anyone who catches your fancy, right?

Robin: She's....right.

Lucina: But, aren't they both too different? 

Rosalina: Kris can become any class they want at the beginning, and so can Robin. They can use swords and tomes (not at the same time, however). And looking at their hair, it's even somewhat similar.

Marth: S-She's right!

Rosalina: One died fighting a dragon with a wielder of the Falchion, and one is adventuring with the wielder of the Falchion's descendant to fight a Shadow Dragon.

Robin: Holy...

Rosalina: But I'm not done yet. There's one more thing that can prove your Kris' reincarnation.

Robin: What?

Rosalina: What's your name? 

Robin: Robin?

Rosalina: What was Marth's Robin's name?

Robin: Kris?

Rosalina: Who's the human character from Winnie the Pooh?

Robin: Christopher Robin.

Rosalina: What's his last name?

Robin: Robin.

Rosalina: What's his shorthand first name?

Robin, realization: Chris...

Rosalina: And what was the first book you read to your child?

Robin: ...Winnie the Pooh....

Rosalina: And while Winnie the Pooh is a beloved series, what's the ulitmate truth behind it?

Robin: It's...all in Christopher Robin's head and he's just imaginging it since Pooh's a stuffed bear in reality.

Rosalina: And what else is in our head?

Robin: Memories...

Rosalina: And what did you wake up with?

Robin: ...None of them.

Rosalina: Marth, did Kris ever tell you their favorite childhood book?

Marth, thinking: I...I think it was....Winnie the Pooh...

Rosalina: Now, what does everyone call Pooh even though the title and perhaps his whole name is Winnie the Pooh and Pooh is possibly his last name?

Chrom: Pooh...which is...his last....name...and the most recognizable...

Rosalina: And what's Christopher Robin's last name?

Lucina: ....R-Robin...

Rosalina: And what's the name of the white haired individual?

Robin: ...Oh my goddess...I am a reincarnation...

Rosalina: I rest my case.

[fandomwriterlover]

Hola, Como esta? :) que tal su vida?. 😂 Anyways here is an idea for a oneshot or headcanon whatever you feel comfortable. What if reader was a great warrior on past time with Wukong and the Gang, he falls in love with her but with the past of time, she would have to make her own journey, though reader did share feelings for wukong but she/he/or they never got to confess or tell their love for him. Now days with Mk and the gang the reincarnation of reader is with them and helping MK with his friends to help to defeat bone demon ( this is on s3). But now they get to have a chance and they don't waste the time in this new opportunity. Sorry if its long but hope you can make it real.

Ten un buen día.

Sun Wukong x Old Flame Reader

When the first ring were achieved you were summonded by DBK to return it. You showed up as the mighty warrior you were in the past, emanating an aura of intimicy and threat... Then you saw a familiar face. "Sun Wukong?!" "Heeeey~ Long time no see." The monkey answered ackwardly. Yep, you knew each other.

The gang wanted to find the three Rings of Samandhi to fight back the Lady Bone Demon, that's how they explained you and beg you to let them have the ring that stole from Demon Bull King. At surprise of everyone, you didn't only agree on the plan, you also wanted to join in!

"Wha-- Ah no no nonono. You don't have to!" "Oh yes yes yesyesyes, I WANT to." You replied at your old friend giving him your sly smile. "It's been long since you started a mess this big, I want to see how you fix it."

Sun Wukong couldn't change your mind... Not that he mind you being on his side again. He looked kinda happy about it...

Traveling with you has been like a breeze. The crew fonded with you, and even offer yourself to train MK while Monkey King it's in his meditations; your stories about when you joined temporaly the Monk Tang Sanzang and Sun Wukong made MK and Mei to think on one thing:

"You and Y/N had a thing in the past?" His protegge words made him choke on his chips. "OMG! YOU WERE A COUPLE?!" This was great: Wukong had two teenager of his back, shipping him with you.

But it was clear as the day that when you are together, talking and laughing; even training together and interchanging puns... There is this softness on his eyes that appears when he is with you -- and only you. Centuries passed and you still can make him feel so good and content.

The power of the Lady Bone Demon it's reaching to your home town. The time was runnign out and you needed to reach in there to help your family and the people. Literaly the two teenager pushed the Monkey King to say something to you before leaving!

"Are you confident that, reforging the Samandhi Fire, would end the Lady Bone Demon threat?" "It's... a plan in progress. But it's the best trump card we had." You sighs, your old friend's plan isn't well planned. You bet he didn't even told the Dragon girl that SHE is the fourth ring.

"Listen, Y/N..." the monkey said... It was time to say goodbye. A goodbye that both didn't knew if they would meet again. You may had a taste of the Pills of Inmortality, but you weren't as inmortal as him. You knew that look on his face... Trying to put a strong face, but he is lost of words. You came closer, holding his hand and placing foreheads together.

"When this is over... Let's have a proper talk the two of us." He sighed a chuckle as he enjoyed your touch. "Let's. How about at my place?" You giggled seperating of him, looking as his eyes. "It's a date."

You both could feel the gang fangirling and sobbing over this scene. "Yeah-- We are not going to invite them for sure." He said annoyed.

Departing was bittersweet and painfull. You both hoped that the menace of LBD would end soon, to finally being alone to talk... And confess feelings and you had concealed for centuries.

[liminalpebble]

The Refugee: Chapter 45

Series Masterlist 

---

As soon as Loki spoke the word, the Heksejotun script fizzled out leaving only Lenora's blank skin once again. She could feel her magic surging back through her after being thwarted for some time. It felt good.

Loki asked, with a cryptic sadness in his voice, “Will you escape now? You have your powers. You should run as far as you can.”

Before he spoke Lenora was ready to hiss every cruel thing she could think of at him; for unwittingly throwing her to the Heksejotun by sending her to Earth, accidentally sending up the equivalent of a magical flare to tell them where to find her, for all the cruel horrible things he said (even if they were half-truths, and a necessary tactic), for the deal he struck where he would be alive and gain power either way, but she would be offered over as a slave to the frost giants if he lost, or perhaps simply killed for sport or revenge. But his words knocked the air out of her lungs as she realized the gravity of what they really meant.

“I...I can't do that.” She said, finally understanding the most dreadful variable in all of this; what Loki's endgame really was. “If I am not available as an exchangeable prisoner, as you swore I would be, then the terms of the Ancient Contest are broken, and you and Laufey will both die.”

“I know,” he said quietly, deliberately. “I know how clever you are. I thought it likely that you would find a way to escape, and with both kings dead, the war ends and our kingdoms fall into, hopefully, kinder hands.” His eyes welled and he stepped closer, desperate to hold her but remembering that his image couldn't touch her. His squinted hard, and clenched his jaw. “Please, go. I beg you. I just wish I could hold you one last time.”

“No! Loki, I'm not going anywhere.”

They were interrupted by the building light of someone teleporting into the cell. Loki turned invisible and Lea gathered up the telltale rope and gag and huddled in the corner with her back to the newcomer, pretending to be curled up in sleep. It was a frost giant guard, with a large dead sheep hanging limply from his enormous hand. Not even looking in Lea's direction, he unlocked the gate and threw the entire carcass into the dragon's eager hungry maw. Locking the gate, he exited in the same flash of blue.

When they were sure they were alone again. Loki appeared, and looked to Blaatand, faced scrunched with disgust.

“Lovely creature,” he quipped.

“He answers to simple commands in Heksejotun, he'd probably answer to anyone. I'll teach you the words. Wait a little while and then go to the north side of the castle, There's a gate running from his cage to the outside. Look, you can see the gate on the other side from here. Break the lock from that side and take the dragon with you.”

“Beg your pardon?” Loki said, in abject confusion. “You expect me to use that thing?”

“How is the battle going?”

He shrugged. “It's...difficult. We have the numbers but the size and strength of the Jotun's bodies are overwhelming. The soldiers grow fatigued.”

She shrugged. “It sounds like you could use a dragon.”

He chuckled in spite of the heartbreaking stakes of the situation. If it would be the last moment of levity he could ever experience with her (or at all), he was determined savor it. “Yes, I suppose we could,” he said, then looked into her eyes with terrible sorrow, as she patiently taught him the command words.  

“Listen, Loki. You have to go, take him to the battlefront and teach Thor and Nadia the commands. Then you have to get ready. You only have until dawn to prepare to fight and...”

“Lea. No. Run. For once will you not be stubborn and simply do what I ask you...what I planned?” he said, genuine anger and concern contorting his lovely features into a snarl.

“No! Not when I know better than you do!” she said, forcefully. “No. Loki. I won't lose you. I can't lose you. I tried to kill you once. You forced me into it, and you won't make me do it again. I would rather die than...” She began to cry, and he stared at her wide-eyed with shocked adoration. “I love you,” she finally said meeting his eyes.

“Lea...” he gasped out, but before he could say any more, another blue light announcing a visitor shone in the darkness. Loki went invisible just in time as Laufey's imposing form filled the cavern. Lea stared up in shock.

Laufey considered the woman a moment and realized her gag and binding had been broken. Lea went cold with fear, frantically trying to think of what to do.

“Well, well. Clever girl. How did you manage this?” he mused, picking up the gag and examining it in his hand.

“Th...There's a sharp edge on that hinge, over there. I simply...”

He accepted this explanation dropping the tattered bindings back to the floor, as he stalked closer, frightening face still worryingly neutral.

“Are you going to punish me for it?”

He laughed then, and it shook the room. He shrunk down a bit again, seemingly aware of how intimidating his full stature must be. “No, I am not like my son. On the contrary, I'm quite impressed.” He came closer still, materializing another softer rope from thin air, and began re-tying her hands. “But still, I'm sure you'll understand the necessity.”

She stifled a sigh of relief when he didn't check the script of the hex which should have still been on her wrists. Lea knew from her work in Laufeyhavn, that the king trusted the full might of Heksejotun magic entirely without bothering to understand it fully himself, simply relegating such work to the witches themselves. This worked very firmly in her favor now.

She waited patiently as he finished tying her hands, leaving more space between them this time, to allow her to move more comfortably. Lea expected him to bind her mouth as well. “No,” he simply said, noticing the question in her eyes.

“May I ask why, Your Highness?”

“You will dine with me now, and I want you to speak with me.”

“Again I ask, Sire, why?”

He raised his booming voice and said, lips forming something between a smile and a grimace, “I require the pleasure of your company, and because I assume that you are hungry. Yes?

She realized for the first time since coming here that she was. “Yes, Sire.”

“Then come with me,” he said, preparing to teleport, then pausing. “Have you been crying?” he asked with what sounded like genuine curiosity.

“Yes. Yes I have,” she replied, looking away, ashamed.

He came nearer, holding her face by her jaw, meeting the dark wood of her eyes, with the red fire of his own. His face remained inscrutable as he said, “You poor child.”

They flashed away before Loki's eyes, and his heart twisted painfully with worry for her.

---

After the opulence of Loki's castle, Laufey's seemed spartan by comparison; all dark stone and ice and magical blue lights that glowed like some kind of bioluminescent deep sea fish in the gloomy chambers.

As they reached a simple dining room, Laufey said, “Sit,” nodding to a chair suited to her size, and a plate of cooked meat, suited to her warm-blooded needs. Laufey, however, sat before his meal of raw meat, its pink flesh and blood a stark contrast to the gray surroundings. He expected her to be annoyingly squeamish at the sight, but she appeared only intellectually curious.

She spoke first, clearly nervous, “Thank you for providing food I am able to eat. It must not be easy to procure here.”

He only nodded. Then said directly, “Lenora, I assume you heard the negotiations from below?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“I want you to understand several things, Lenora. Your foolish emperor need not have set his stakes so high. I am ancient, and I am dying. Every other heir I produced perished at their first test of exposure. Only Loki survived...and thrived.”

Lea considered Laufey differently suddenly, in light of this information. She could now hear the rumble of age and wariness in his voice, which had grown surprisingly quiet.

“So many helpless children, abandoned to a needless and painful death,” Lea said, a clear edge of disgust in her voice.

“Do not judge so harshly, Morhari. I mourned them dearly, every one. It is our way, sacred to us and our purpose of strength. I rest easier, secure in the knowledge that they are held in the arms of our gracious gods. I know you are capable of understanding beyond prejudice, and I call upon you to do it now.”

She thought for a long silent moment and then said, “So I shall. I must admit, you're not at all what I expected. I should know by now to refrain from judgment before I understand more completely, but like everyone else, I'm not immune to failings of ignorance and bias. ”

“I know very well what villains our enemies portray us as. It's always easier this way, isn't it? I've instilled the same contempt for our enemies within the Jotun, so I do not condemn other rulers for the same.  I've fostered, within my people, a sense of superiority over other realms. They are proud to be Jotun, and pity or despise those who are not. I've made each one the hero of their own stories with a unanimous purpose. It may seem...abhorrent...to you, but it is our way. We value honor, power, and obedience above all else... obedience to our kings and our gods. So has always been our code. The bloodshed my son has caused easily rivals my own, but at least I can say, that mine has been for reasons beyond myself or my desires. Mine was a burden, a sacred responsibility. It has not been easy, and it has taken its toll upon me in my final years.

She nodded thoughtfully. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to witness the truth of who I am, and learn the truth of who my people are when I am gone. You have already studied us well. You have no nation left, therefore you will see more clearly, more fairly. Do you understand? I do not expect your betrothed to afford us the same understanding and dignity.”

“You speak as if you expect to lose...to die...tomorrow.”

“It is very likely, and I will gladly accept a warrior's death, should it find me. I will gladly meet my children once again in the presence of our divine mothers and fathers. Eternity shall be my reward for my devotion to our way.”

“And if death doesn't find you, will you rule the empire as ruthlessly as you rule Jotunheim? Am I then your prisoner or concubine?”

“I will rule with the same strength and honor, by the same code. Yes.” He paused to look into her eyes, consider her more fully. “You would be my prisoner, yes...concubine, no. Though I would welcome your company and your wisdom. Hear me well, girl. In my very long life I have never taken from a woman that which was not offered freely, and I will not do so with you. It is not our way.”

She raised her eyebrows at this, “That's very noble. Your son could learn something from you.”

“That is...unfortunate. You do not deserve such indignity. There is much he could learn from me...about his history and his people... but he will have to learn it from you, after I am gone. Whoever the victor is tomorrow is no matter. I will be gone soon, in either case. Should I triumph and continue to breath, he would still never heed my words. But he will listen to you...he will always listen to you.

She nodded and raised her glass, “You have my respect, King Laufey. And I promise you, I will study your people, seek to understand, and teach your son about them.”  

He nodded and raised his own, “And you have mine, Lenora of the Morhari. I am glad to have met you before I leave this world.”

@goblingirlsarah @gigglingtigger @peaches1958 @sweetsigyn @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @unlucky-number-13 @lokisgoodgirl

[yanderes-galore]

Hello! If it’s alright, may I please requests Yandere!Human!Suicune and Yandere!Human!Reshiram concepts from Pokémon please? Most notably from the games, thank you and if not, no worries! I totally understand you have a lot of requests already!

Sure! Both pokemon are kept as gender neutral unless stated otherwise.

Yandere! Human! Suicune + Reshiram Concepts

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Yandere-like behavior, Possessive behavior, Stalking, Manipulation, Implied thoughts of murder, Overprotective behavior.

Human! Suicune

- Suicune is a Pokemon that roams the lands of Johto.

- The legendary Pokemon visiting lake to lake to purify the water.

- Winds always seem to chill when the legendary is near, encountering such a Pokemon is considered lucky.

- Not for you, however.

- Meeting Suicune at a lake one time cost you your future.

- You had fallen asleep laying on a tree beside a lake.

- The area was peaceful enough to send you into a gentle slumber.

- Then the wind got cold, waking you up.

- You thought you were still dreaming when you saw someone dancing across the water gracefully.

- Purple hair flowed gracefully in the chilly wind, white and blue clothing also rather flowing like waves.

- You couldn't believe your eyes...

- "Suicune...."

- Said Pokemon picks up on your voice, red eyes quickly turning to your bewildered figure.

- Suicune was a legendary Pokemon you only heard in legend...

- Was this really them?

- "It appears you're a very lucky human. I wasn't aware someone was watching me purify this lake. May I get such a human's name?"

- "I apologize... I was just sleeping here but your winds are very cold. I go by (Y/N). Are you... really Suicune?"

- "A clever human as well! I am indeed the legendary Pokemon named Suicune. No wonder we've met, you're clearly a worthy human!"

- "I wouldn't go that far... but thank you, Suicune."

- For the longest time you took this chance encounter with Suicune as a blessing.

- Meeting the Pokemon that kept your waters clean was a big deal.

- Although, turns out, it was the opposite.

- As Suicune now secretly follows you around.

- While they still roam the lands to perform their duty, you are a past time they enjoy indulging in.

- Red eyes softly peer through your window when you least expect it.

- You feel eyes on you when you're out walking.

- It's an unexpected twist in your life.

- Suicune is patient, wishing to watch over you to satiate their personal desires.

- But soon, they plan to keep you to themselves.

- It's only a matter of time...

- You just wonder why you get so cold at night....

- "Johto is a vast place to explore. I'm sure with me you'll enjoy it, (Y/N)..."

Human! Reshiram

- Reshiram is a Pokemon attracted to people who wish to create a world of Truth.

- If that is royalty wanting to make a true kingdom, or a strong trainer wishing to fight for their beliefs, the Pokemon could care less.

- As long as the person this Pokemon chooses to be loyal to has a heart of truth, they're happy.

- In this concept, Reshiram feels you have a heart of truth.

- The winged Fire/Dragon believes you have a pure heart and wishes to work with you.

- It would be even more interesting if in this concept you were royalty of a kingdom, instead of the whole 'fight legendary, gain trust' troupe I usually do.

- In front of you in your castle stands the Pokemon, blue eyes judging you before finally speaking.

- "Human, I sense you know how to rule this land. You will create a world of truth. A world that I wish to help you create."

- "You must be Reshiram, the Pokemon of Truth"

- "Yes, that is what I go by. What do you go by, Human?"

- "I am (Y/N), the ruler of this kingdom. I thank you for blessing me with your presence, Reshiram."

- One way or another you'll be a person of power.

- The loyal Pokemon standing beside you to oversee how you plan to lead your people.

- Eventually falling for the human they were originally just meant to guide.

- It was not their plan... yet...

- They feel they should be true to their feelings and accept them.

- Making your partnership with this Pokemon deepen ever so slightly.

- They'll use their flames to protect you, your kingdom, and the roaring obsession they have for you.

- You two will be inseparable together.

- "I hope your heart will not only beat for our true land, but beat for me and only me. No other human or Pokemon can replace me."

[writttinggggggggggg]

Tracking Daemyra timeline scenes for episode 7 through their costumes. Let’s go!!

This is a long post, discussing 7 scenes, enjoy!

SCENE 1 - Daemon spying at a harbour 

He’s wearing a classic Daemon hooded cloak here. He loves a slouchy dramatic hood to wear when doing shady shit. You see his shoulder length white hair peeking out in the teaser footage. I’m 100% sure this is him. More on this here (x).

SCENE 2 - Laena’s water burial in Driftmark

Here Daemon and Rhaenyra are both wearing the costumes we’ll see them in for most of this episode (since apparently, it only takes place in 24-48 hours). Rhaenyra is wearing a satin red dress (you can see it just peaking out), under a long black dress-coat that is fastened with ties [for now hehe]. Her hair is neatly braided in coils on top of her head, with a ponytail-braid thing also going on. She wears a pendant necklace and little triangle gem earrings. 

Daemon is wearing a woollen tunic, and possibly a robe (because his leather belt is not visible)?, over a long black sleeved shirt which is leather-like and has a dragon scale texture (similar to the pattern on Nyra’s coat AWH). He’s also wearing black pants, and boots. His shoulder length hair is half-up half-down. In the show so far, Daemon's trademark look is to always have these spiral stitched sleeves, either in white, red, or black. This woollen grey tunic is also the same one he wore in ep 4, with Rhaenyra by the Godswood, and the tunic and robe combo is literally the same funeral outfit he wore to Aemma’s funeral in ep 1. (*sigh* wardrobe loves to recycle for Daemon lmao).

SCENE 3 - Post-burial funeral socialising 

Post-burial the guests all move to the balcony-area to ‘catch up’ after 10 years apart. No major costume changes here, besides Daemon is now robeless. Daemon’s woollen tunic has silver metal clasps, and he is carrying a dagger on his leather studded belt.

SCENE 4 - Romantic moonlit beach walk, and HOOKUP (finally)  

Daemon and Rhaeynra continue to catch up and go for a romantic af stroll along the beach at night (yes they shot it during the day but it’s a night scene). They appear to kiss, and then make their way into the boat wreckage and FINALLY get-it-on. We see Rhaenyra is now coatless, and Daemon unties the back of her dress. Post-sex, their hair is messy, his tunic is unclasped and her dress is not tied properly when she joins him on the shore. Daemon does not look pleased at what he sees on the horizon, I’m assuming it’s Vhagar and Aemond.

 SCENE 5 - Family kid drama, Aemond loses an eye, Alicent tries to stab Rhaenyra

So while Daemon and Rhaenyra were hooking up, I presume the second storyline will be his daughters realising Aemond/Aegon “stole” Vhagar, and then go tell Nyra’s boys and there’s a big old showdown between the kids. Aemond loses his eye while they fight, and then they go running back to Alicent. What’s funny is, Rhaenys looks like she’s just woken up from bed, with her hair down, as she and Corlys rush down the stairs to see what all the commotion is about. You can see Baela and Rhaena, and Jace and Luke but no Daemon and Rhaenyra in the hall. Yet. Rhaenys comes to the aid of the girls, and then at some point, Daemyra shows up to protect the boys. Rhaenyra’s coat is still untied, and her hair is very dishevelled from the beach. Then Alicent (accidentally) cuts Nyra with Viserys' dagger.

SCENE 6 - Daemon being Daemon

I really don’t know if this takes place the same night, because boy so much drama already. But Daemon is clearly up to further shenanigans in the corridor leading to the Hall of Nine in Driftmark. He’s wearing a cream dress shirt, similar to one he was wearing in Pentos, and pants/boots, while he murders? or simply smothers someone unconscious. This surely has to do with Laenor, but whether Daemon is helping Laenor survive an assassination or assisting with his death.. we’ll have to wait and see.

SCENE 5 - Post-Alicent stabbing

From the lightning this looks like it is the next morning, and we know this scene takes place after all the children/family/dragon drama because Rhaenyra has a bandage for her wound on her left wrist from Alicent’s dagger attack. Rhaenyra is wearing a red and black, bedazzled coat with some major fur lining. Her hair is styled the exact same as the funeral, and she wears the same earrings. Daemon is wearing a luxurious robe over his tunic (the same one from Aemma’s funeral), it’s clasped with a silver chain. The way they are all rugged up, and staring contemplatively at the horizon, I get the vibe that they’re about to travel to leave Driftmark.

SCENE 6 - ??? okay now this scene has me confused.

We have so much footage of Miguel directing this scene, so it has to be from episode 7, because this is his last ep. as a director. The lighting against the wall makes it look like it’s a daytime scene. And I would say that it happens at Driftmark during the funeral social stuff because the hair and costumes are the same but… Rhaenyra goes from leaning against the wall, wearing her dress-coat, then she’s in her satin red dress, then she’s the same dress but now it’s SLEEVELESS, and also her braided ponytail is now just a loose ponytail. And this is where it gets even MORE confusing. Daemon is very clearly in the same woollen tunic and black sleeves as the funeral outfit, but then he’s got dishevelled hair, then completely loose hair AND an entire costume change?? He’s basically wearing the outfit he wore at Rhaenyra’s wedding to Laenor: black leather tunic with red studs, Dark Sister strapped to his belt, and red sleeves. What’s also weird about this scene, is the ‘torch bowls’ are gold and have lion faces on them. And the Lion is the symbol of the Lannisters (by comparison the fire sconces in Driftmark have cod like fish-faces on them)... so yeah I’m not sure if this is Driftmark?

And this scene below is also very confusing because the room looks quite different, it looks like it might be Dragonstone? Rhaenyra is wearing the same dress, earrings and necklace but her hair is completely different. There’s no visible braids, it's just a simple half-up half-down, like Daemon’s. And Daemon isn’t in the same woollen tunic we’ve seen so far, he’s wearing a tunic with leather panels on it, and black sleeves not red.

SCENE 7 - Traditional Targaryen wedding  

Finally we get the wedding scene. Total costume change here. Daemon seems to be wearing some type of red tunic robes, and from the close ups it seems that Rhaenyra might be wearing a rich red dress. Her earrings are different, her hair is half-up half-down, and she has a traditional head piece on with tassels. It’s so sweet. We can see they do a blood magic ritual, with hand fasting during the wedding ceremony.

[lwbu]

Love Will Bury Us

Chapter 5

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MASTERLIST

pairing: aemond targaryen x targaryen!oc

summary: Alyssa Targaryen cherished chaos, its presence a comforting reminder that she was alive and breathing. But when dragons danced and fire erupted, her chaos was no longer her own. As the last of control slipped through her fingers, a hand came in its place—cold, possessive and unforgiving, and it belonged to Aemond Targaryen.  

content & warnings: f!oc, targcest, so much tension it hurts, slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood and violence, spoilers for hotd, canon character death, morally grey characters, additional tags to be added

word count: 4.3k

notes: it’s my birthday so i’m treating myself and posting earlier. y’all know what’s coming in the next chapter; enjoy this one. english is not my first language. all feedback is very appreciated.  

also on ao3 and wattpad.

The sky was still adorned by the faint glow of the moon when Alyssa mounted Blindfyre and ascended to the clouds. Trembling palms clad in black leather grasped onto the saddle; eyes focused on no particular spot, ready to take lead. The dragon let out a heavy breath as his wings first brushed through the biting breeze, the enormous body climbing up, darker than the night itself. Finally, after what felt like ages, they were once more together—heartbeats in sync, eyes as one, minds entangled with an unbreakable force. Fingers stroked heated scales, a small attempt to break through the wall of tense perturbation. To soothe him or herself, Alyssa wasn't sure, but knew they both needed the gentle alleviation of their anxiety with equal desperation.

She'd never enjoyed being separated from the beast. Even as a child not yet comprehending the bond they shared, she'd rarely ever be seen away from the pits for long. To know that Blindfyre had been left behind in the capital, a place that brought no positive feelings, with him never quite comfortable amongst other dragons yet forced to accept their company, made her ache. If only they could forever be connected—truly become one being—she would no longer know concern and fear; would never have to leave him alone.

They left the poisonous ambience of King's Landing behind, soaring through the sky in a rapid pace without once looking back. She felt Blindfyre relax the farther they went. Similarly, her own strained mind appeared to have, at last, found a small trace peace—right there, in the pale eyes of the moon alone, in its subtle luminosity and comforting stroke of assurance. They left the Red Keep behind, yes, but the dread and confusion persisted, long since accommodated in Alyssa's chest, sprawled out among ribs and squeezing brutally. It was yet another battle for a breath, and so she kept fighting against the crushing pressure, desperately taking in whatever oxygen she could.

She'd been a fool. Greedily, she had allowed herself a victory that now left a bitter taste in her mouth; stupidly, she had thought this one time would satiate her. And yet her heart was conflicted, craving more and dreading it with equal fervour, urging her to both leave and return. Alyssa, with her judgment clouded, had unleashed the forbidden thoughts from the depths of perfectly restrained desires—now, the consequences were too much to handle with any semblance of equilibrium. Gone was the feigned composure she'd wanted to remain strong and solid in Aemond's presence. Gone was the indifference, shattered by the quivering pressure of ferocity that had, at some point long ago, formed inside of her mind and grown hungry for release. Gone was reason—madness, she knew, was all there was left. To allow herself a taste of freedom had perhaps been the biggest mistake of her life—now, she'd be left forever paying the cost in the form of craving for more.

It was pointless to dwell on it, to replay it time and time again, to keep thinking of the sensations she'd experienced in the darkness of silent corridors. It was abhorrent to be able to only focus on the memory of him, sat in the corner, hot, overwhelming fury seeping out and swallowing the chamber. It was preposterous to be able to see it so vividly when the moment was long gone. And yet his wrath, so controlled yet still palpable, offered more than she'd hoped for—more than she could bear—and was alarmingly addictive.

The book she'd taken into hands was a heavy weight on her arm, now hidden inside a small sack she'd strapped over shoulders. If Aemond had noticed her take it—and Alyssa not once doubted he had—he'd said nothing at all. She understood now that he rarely ever let things he hadn't planned for happen: this, perhaps, meant she'd once more acted in the way he had predicted. Whatever his intentions were, even the stretching distance did little to erase the nefariousness that had surrounded him. To believe his motives pure would be an idiotic mistake. To think he simply let her take the book would be a ruination.

Aemond Targaryen did things for a reason; always so calculated and cruel, and of unknown yet capabilities. He was an enigma and a threat both—or perhaps none; perhaps something else entirely. When it was a momentary freedom he'd offered—a freedom to leave and take something with her, to mock him again and hiss taunts, to have the last word—it, too, had a price. Perhaps that was the worst of all things: the awareness that, in this allowance, he must have had some unspoken goal. It would remain within the clutches of secrecy until he decided otherwise.

The book appeared heavier than before.

The journey itself was long and arduous, but they had covered the distance faster than Alyssa realised. The welcoming sight of Dragonstone in all its glory was accompanied by a familiarly odd screech, the lean body of Caraxes a red spot on the milky pinks and oranges of the horizon as he wandered about. Blindfyre answered the sound with one of his own, his entire body shaking with its intensity, and Alyssa couldn't help a small smile that sneaked onto her lips. This—high in the air, the two beasts together—was intimate and warm and home. Though the times she'd ascend to the air along with her father were long gone, they could never be forgotten; now served as a sweet reminder of childlike felicity. Caraxes flew closer, though not close enough for their figures to collide, long cognisant of Blindfyre's vision disability, and circled around the smaller dragon, wings proud and regal. Caraxes had little love for others of his own kind—a mirror image of his rider—and yet for those he had a glimpse of it, he never shied away from expressing in a secretive manner that belonged to him alone. A brief brush of two long tails, a heavy exhale, and then the Blood Wyrm was gone as quickly as he'd appeared, soon only a small dot on the sky.

The descent left Alyssa breathless and understanding this: Blindfyre had never before been this weak. When he landed on the ground, his limbs lost balance, black torso only just managing not to crash down and into the edged surface, wings attempting and failing to once more lift him up. Alyssa's grip on the saddle loosened, hands instead placed on the dragon's neck, eyes wide with terror. Blindfyre let out a roar so devastating she wheezed in pain. A sudden dizziness took over her head; in panic, Alyssa recognised that for the shortest of moments, there was nothing at all but for emptiness, and why, why couldn't she see? The dragon writhed on the ground, the lack of stability almost severe enough to make the girl fall off. Desperately, she held onto the beast; held to never let go, never again, not even once. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” whispered repeatedly, yet it could not be enough. She felt him struggle underneath her frame, his breathing irregular, smoke seeping from widened jaw.

It was long after that Blindfyre's body stopped shaking. Still, Alyssa kept holding him, forehead resting against his skin, cheeks wet, eyes shut so tightly it hurt.

How stupid she'd been to think she knew true fear; how foolish to believe there was nothing more to it than a cruel hand on the throat. If paralysing fright indeed existed, it was this—this very moment. If there were sinister nightmares to come, they would take the shape of the present and haunt her forever. She'd see this every time her eyes closed; feel it when she lay amidst silks; hear the chilling tune in silence—and it'd never go away.

“How do I help? Please, please,” Alyssa demanded weakly, her own voice unrecognisable. “What can I do to make it stop? I'll take your pain, take it as my own, please, I—”

“Alyssa.”

She wished to never acknowledge the intrusive words. Her murmurs echoed through the island, heart pounding and breaking more and more with each breath. Blindfyre remained unresponsive, head rested on the ground, still as stone.

“There must be something. Something I can do. Something to help.” Something, something, anything.

“You cannot help him.” Why, why would the voice get louder? Why was she not allowed solitude? Why were her tears cruelly put on display? “Not like this.”

“How, then?” Finally, she relented and looked at her father. He was watching, still a safe distance away, gaze neither fully focused nor completely detached. Alyssa grimaced. “How?”

At times, it was maddening that he'd always show up to find her at her at her worst. Her blood boiled, anger flowing and flowing and drowning her mind; consciousness long lost, grasped with claws stained by rage and shredded to pieces. With the very last of rationality, Alyssa thought back to the skyline—they should have stayed there, she realised, and never come back. Then, the pain would remain theirs alone, a secret shared by two identical hearts and never spoken of.

With averted gaze, Alyssa unfastened the straps of the saddle; soon, she felt hands pulling at her body more than she saw them, vision still blurred. Fingers squeezed into her shoulder, a palm came to her cheek, but there was no warmth—she was so, so cold.

“Must I really have you locked in your chambers in order to keep you from running off?”

If only she could scream; let out a dragonlike roar; release all that weighted on her chest. She'd do it for all of the realm to hear, for the ground to shake underneath soles, for the stars to tremble. If only she could bleed it all out and be left with no trace of unease—she'd do it in a heartbeat.

“I didn't run off. I told Rhaenyra that—”

A lazily lifted palm was enough to cut her off. “I have no need for your lies.” He pulled her into his side, holding her so similarly to the way he'd done long ago; finally, the chilling sensation reluctantly began to relent. “You will not be leaving again.”

“This is what you want to discuss now?” Alyssa gritted her teeth, trying to move away—his embrace was too tight to evade.

His grip turned steel; keeping her as close as possible, Daemon moved away from the dragon, dragging her along. The stretching distance burned in her veins and shattered whatever residue solace there was.

“You need to let him rest, dōna hāedar,” he said, her useless efforts to fight him falling short with the disregard. “Do not try to come see him again today. I'll have him tended to, but there's no need for you to be there.”

She saw fire. How dare he try to keep her away when it hurt so much? Her tears felt hot, scorching and biting into skin, and leaving nothing but ashes; they wouldn't stop.

“No.” Alyssa's voice was weak, but not completely stripped of obstinacy. Feet brushed the pavement, knees giving up. “No, no, no . . .”

Don't make me leave. Don't keep me away. I'll crawl my way back.

Her chamber was as much a refuge as could be offered. A bed, silky and soft and smelling of honey, big enough to crawl upon and disappear in. Fireplace that always burned to eradicate the last of coldness she'd never loved. Bookshelves—so many of them they remained a constant mess—all the same height and dark shade, and filled with books of various origins. There were ones of her childhood, once read by Laena Velaryon in the late hours of darkening skies; ones that she'd learned from, the words leaving her mouth so odd and yet always accompanied by her father's proud smile when she would manage to pronounce them correctly; books with the most bewitching descriptions of picturesque landscapes she'd never see; books of stories entirely unfamiliar to those who had yet to experience the sentiments they spoke of.

One book from the secret library of the Red Keep.

Alyssa lay atop the pillows, head buried so deep between them it would surely be invisible to any intruders. She was still weary, bones aching with something unknown and exhaustingly intense. It hurt to keep her eyes open and hurt even more to shut them close. Something near her temple throbbed persistently, eliciting a permanent wince upon the pale face.

Inid had come see her twice, both visits as brief as possible. The maid had brushed her hair, put a cold cloth to her forehead and cheeks, helped her out of the suffocating leathers. She'd been unusually quiet, her touch oddly hesitant, head kept low—Alyssa assumed, irritably, that her father must have instructed the girl to not stay with her for too long. He had sent her to her rooms and, like a prisoner, put a guard to the door, demanding she stay and rest. Just to defy him, Alyssa had stubbornly refused the embrace of dreams, staying awake within the confinement of the walls despite the exhaustion.

Blindfyre was back in the pit, a lone shadow against marble. The dragonkeepers had indeed gone to see him—all they had done, however, was inspecting his state from afar, the beast threatening to attack with his vicious fangs exposed. He would be well, they'd said, and only needed to rest. And yet she still felt his trembling, heard the screeching, saw his fatigue; still sensed his pain and suffering, and would not be satisfied with petty assurances of those who did not know the dragon as well as she did. To be there with him was the only comfort she'd be able to offer, and yet this, too, had been taken away from her. A bile of wrath formed in her throat. It was a mistake to believe her incapable of doing whatever she pleased—by the time the moon returned, sneaking out would prove easy enough.

Until the stars splattered upon the horizon, all she was left with was the memory of green and violet flames, and the unknown book now calling to her. How easy it would be to let her hands pry the pages open, fingers brush through the paper, eyes take in the words that he could not. And yet it felt like a forbidden step—more so than those traced amongst dark halls of the Red Keep. And if Aemond had willingly let her take it, a stolen treasure, surely there was something inherently wrong about it.

But it was right there—

When she moved, it was with an absent mind. Hesitant feet brought her to the shelf, the one closest to the large window and now surrounded by something dark and strange. Fingers moved to the black spine, just about touching it, and she held her breath.

Alyssa's heart almost jumped out of her chest when the doors opened with a loud thud against the wall.

She had expected Rhaena to, at some point, storm inside and cheerily chatter about the visit to King's Landing, the announcement of her betrothal, some stray cat she'd found abandoned around the castle and sneaked into her bedchamber—anything her curious mind had fixated on. It had, in a moment unknown, become a constant in their lives. And somehow, when her eyes sparkled, Alyssa always felt utterly at ease.

What she hadn't expected was for Rhaena to look as though someone had pushed a dagger between the ribs and violently twisted. Rhaena's face was full of nothing but dread, eyes blown wide, lips dried and parted. Her shaken gaze fell upon Alyssa.

“The King—” she muttered, her steps cautious as she neared her older sister. “Father wants us by the Painted Table.”

It was astounding to feel how quickly all that had been plaguing her turned insignificant.

Loss smelled of smoke. It could be the burning body, small and fragile and gone, or the unstoppable nature of death—so similar to the ancient magic of dragons. It was flames and ashes, and heavy fog blinding one's sight. It was acid down the throat, choking and squeezing and drawing blood. It was a tear, a hole in chest, a longing for something that had yet to be and now never would.

Visenya Targaryen was gone before she could be welcomed.

Alyssa wondered if rage could be stronger than mourning. If the detached look in her father's eyes had any meaning at all, perhaps it was exactly this—a need for revenge that surpassed the pain.

Rhaena's hand was warm and grounding when it sneaked around Alyssa's waist—just when she was on the verge of drowning and burning, and loosing all breath. Ready to collapse, perhaps, for all these people to see. And wouldn't it be mortifying to show them such weakness?

“What colours do you see?” she whispered in her ear, affectionate touch caressing her hair and brushing them back from Alyssa's face.

“I can't—”

“You can,” Rhaena murmured.

She sounded so certain, so sure that she wouldn't fail her, and so Alyssa couldn't bring herself to do just that. Even when it hurt, when her chest had been ripped open, skin bleeding without anyone else noticing, she couldn't bear the thought of once more eliciting disappointment. If need be, she'd bury it all—everything that sought to overwhelm her; cover it with soil and plant a poisonous seed of callousness on top. With a deep inhale, she distractedly looked around.

“Blue,” Alyssa answered silently when her eyes found the limitless sky, voice cracking and so quiet it seemed to not be there at all. “Black. Silver.” And green, always green, imprinted on her mind though kept a secret.

Rhaena nodded, hands still on her sister's figure, and offered a brief smile. “Good.”

It all quieted when a golden crown was placed upon Rhaenyra's head—the same one that had been carried by Viserys Targaryen and then led him to demise. And although it looked right, as though it had truly always belonged to her, and kneeling for the Queen came with unsurprising ease and respect, Alyssa bit into her lip and wanted to wail. She knew, even if others had yet to say it aloud, that everything would change with that moment. There would be no place for any remnants of already fleeting freedom—only invisible chains, limitations forced upon with a heavy burden, and duty, duty, duty.

And it came soon, too—of course it did—a crashing wave of dreadful darkness.

“Come with me,” Daemon murmured to her, his hand coming to rest against her pale shoulder.

Alyssa refused to betray the disarray in both her heart and mind, collecting all thoughts and tucking them away into the darkest corner to save them for later, for the moonlight's eyes alone.

“You're taking me to the wild dragons.” It was not spoken as a question; needed no answer. She already knew what he'd been thinking of.

Dragons were meant to serve as a solution—weapons, soldiers, fierce and lethal warriors on battlefield. To stand against the enemy that had no regard for the word of the King, the line of succession, who was a traitor to the realm, was hazardous enough. To fight with one who wielded the very same scaled armour of fire would be fatal.

In panic, Alyssa thought of Vhagar. How could any other beast ever come close to the ancient dragon and leave unscathed? She was a creature of bloodshed and war, a terror, a certain death—all that, and claimed by Aemond Targaryen who was already unpredictable enough himself. To have a dragon this powerful and experienced, and let it sense the violent thoughts he undoubtedly possessed was already a death sentence. Her father must have thought so as well, and so their departure came swiftly and quickly, and no explanations were given to others.

It was when silence stretched between them so unnaturally and violently that Alyssa realised that the real goal of her father was not just seeing the dragons. Cool demeanour in place, she watched him intently if only to stir any discomfort—to show him that she knew. But it was foolish to believe anyone in the realm could ever be capable of making Daemon Targaryen discomfit. And at times, when the two of them clashed—like two dragons in the storm—it led to this: a battle of unyielding stares; a challenge for the other to speak up.

He must have been impatient, for he opened his mouth sooner than she'd thought he would.

“You know your duty.” And there was the word that left her heart shattered and ablaze, and threatening to turn into ashes. “Duty as a daughter, duty as a highborn lady . . . as a woman.”

“Duty as a woman,” she repeated with a sneer, though the only other indication of her rage was hidden behind her back in the form of clenched fists. “You of all people should at least have the decency to name it as it is. It's a duty to give away my body to the filthy hands of an unworthy man. A duty to lose myself for his gain. A duty to stop being a person,” Alyssa bit her lip, a slight tremble leaving her exposed, “a dragon. To strip myself of anything of my own and shape it into whatever pleases the man.” With fury on her tongue and vicious glint to the eye, she dared raise an eyebrow, stopping before a cave they'd arrived outside of. “Or have you already forgotten about the lady Rhea Royce? I suppose shaping her to your liking had proved difficult given the gruesome circumstances of her death.”

The answer was instant though not verbal. He tilted his head, arms folded against chest, and came to stand in front and tower over her. It was meant to, perhaps, make her gaze lower obediently; have her turn to a respectfully tame daughter. As a child, she would cower under the intensity of his stare alone. All she had wanted then was to make him proud—have him always thinking of her with fondness and joy. Now, though, he had made it clear that she was a child no more.

Now, she'd give him defiance in the purest of all forms.

“I thought you'd waited this long because you wanted the decision to be mine.”

A choice, she thought. It was all she had ever wanted—the least she deserved.

“If I left this to you alone, you'd sooner flee to Pesos,” he mused.

“Fleeing seems to be a kinder fate.”

She thought back to the Free Cities, the brick towers, the songs echoing through the walls. She thought of Laena and her laughter, and the nights she and her sisters had spent listening to her stories, always told in a soft voice. It had been nice to be there, to taste freedom on her tongue, to not be expected to forgo her name, her identity, her life. But Laena wouldn't be there anymore, and neither would her sisters; she'd be all alone, a runaway, a deserter, a traitor. She'd be free, would remain herself, yes—and then she'd keep paying the price for that, until the end of her solitary days.

Her father knew her too well to not realise she would never abandon them in such haste manner. Despite the torment, she'd stay—remain a willing captive, become a shell of herself.

“You are my daughter.” The wind made a swooshing noise around; the rocks under their feet so steep Alyssa was forced to accept Daemon's outstretched hand. “Trust that I will not have you taken away by anyone who doesn't deserve you.”

A bitter chuckle escaped her mouth. “What makes you think anyone will ever deserve me? Do you really believe my heart will willingly come to love someone by the force of duty?”

“Do not fool yourself. It is not love you want.” He shook his head, a condescending smile briefly gracing his face. “You want control. You shall have it. It will be yours for the taking.”

Alyssa let out a shaky exhale.

Love, she pondered inwardly. How odd a concept to desperately seek. And yet her sisters were allowed this much, their betrothals born out of deep affection that had been blooming over the past years. It had been there all along, in the shared memories of laughter, the innocent touches, the knowledge of one another. Jacaerys and Lucerys were no strangers. To be wedded to them was not equal to being taken away from home.

And then there was Daemon himself. Alyssa knew his love for Laena had been real. She knew, too, that what his heart had gifted to Rhaenyra surpassed everything else; was too strong to be described in one insignificant word. And yet there he stood, taking this opportunity from his eldest child; stealing it with a sword in hand; leaving no trace of hope.

“If you make me do this, I will never forgive you.”

But she was long aware that he had little need for it.

“Your forgiveness will not be required once you're safe far away from here,” he said, fingers caressing the lone strands near her temple. “Nor will it help me win the war. Marriage, however, just might.”

“Am I not worth more than that? I am a Targaryen,” she whispered, blinking rapidly to not allow any tears show. “I am a dragonrider. Instead of sending me away, let me stand by your side and burn them all.”

But her pleading would serve no purpose. Alyssa recognised the look in her father's eyes—he had already decided, and would not be persuaded.

It felt as though fate had already been settled. No longer a dragon, she realised in agony. Just a pawn.