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asumofwords · 1 year

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Aemond POV: Your return to the Red Keep

A/N: I saw that a few of you wanted an Aemond POV, and as I am a benevolent ruler, I thought I would give the people what they wanted. I wanted to do the the first couple of times he saw you after the years you were separated. This is all from Aemond’s point of view and from the time where you and your family all returned to the Red Keep.

This is a Dark!Aemond POV from the fic Smoke, Fire and Ash.

Enjoy !

TW: Aemond POV. Dark!Aemond. Murder, Incest, thoughts of violence, thoughts of sexual activities. 18+

Words: 4k

Character pairing: Dark!Aemond X Reader, HOTD characters. Dark!Aemond POV.

He swung his sword roughly at Ser Criston, who leant back to dodge the edge of the sharp blade, as he and Aemond moved in tandem in the training yard. Aemond was fast on his feet but knew Ser Cole to be just as quick.

Each swing was met by a duck, or deflection by the chain of the flail Ser Cole swung at him, the loud clanging of the chain and whistle in the air as it moved towards him, guided him back. And soon Aemond found himself dancing in a circle as he waited to make the next move, to swing the blade back down onto the knight and make him yield.

Ser Cole swung the striking head once more towards Aemond, and he dodged, before spinning to hold the tip of his blade against Ser Cole's neck, hitting the flail away. They both breathed deeply as they watched each other, and Ser Cole finally conceded.

Applause rang out from those who had gathered to watch the two men train, and Aemond felt the prickling sensation of three sets of eyes upon his form.

Ser Cole dropped the flail to the ground heavily, “Well done, My Prince,” Ser Cole breathed, “You’ll win tourneys in no time.”

Aemond did not lower the blade, “I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” He spoke, before allowing his gaze to roam the space to where he felt eyes watching him. Lowering his sword, Aemond let his eye land on a pair of brown headed boys, and the silver hair of a girl.

Who is she?

“Nephews,” He called out, enjoying watching the two Strong boys stiffen as they were addressed, faces suddenly uncomfortable, “Have you come to train?”

Jacaerys mouth opened and closed like a fish, as Lucerys looked up to the girl, no, woman, beside him. How she had grown. No longer the gangly limbed child, who’s hair could rarely be tamed, but now stood a woman of the court.

Her hair was braided neatly behind her head, as she wore a tight all black gown that hugged her curves. Grown, indeed. Her cheeks were dusted a light pink. He felt his lip twitch as he watched her, small excitement bubbling inside as he remembered fond memories of their youth together.

Was she nervous?

As he caught her gaze, she blinked, looking down and then back up at him, stoney faced and chin held higher. She looked down to Lucerys, whispering to him before moving the two Strong boys away with her, back into the Keep.

All those fond memories came crashing down, and the bitter rage in which Aemond had tried in vain to keep in order, bubbled up inside of him. There she was, the Princess who he had been so close to, his niece who he had shared so many memories with, so many secrets, once again choosing her brothers over him.

He could remember vividly, sitting in that room, as the Maester stitched his eye shut, feeling the sharp pain of the needle as it threaded through. No milk of the poppy was given to him. He was too young, it was too dangerous. And so instead he tried to seek comfort in someone he always had.

You.

And what had you done?

Stuck by Lucerys, checking his face for injury, and standing firmly alongside your mother, watching him as he was berated in front of all, by his father. That was when the love shared between the both of you died.

He would do well to remind himself of that.

Aemond could not believe how much she had changed. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he watched them walk away, the Princess throwing a curious look over her shoulder to glance at him one more time.

He supposed that he had grown too. His cheeks no longer held the plumpness of young adolescence, and his face had grown sharp and angled. Even the way he held himself was different.

He had changed, and so had she.

You were all in the Iron Throne room, listening to Vaemond Velaryon put forward a motion to be heir of Driftmark, questioning the four of you and your legitimacy, voice loudly ringing into the court.

Aemond would remember it for the rest of his days.

You stood, back straight, head tall, hair braided tightly up, with none flowing down. A black and red gown hugging your figure with an off the shoulder look, similar to your mother as you stood beside her, mouth turned down in the corners.

Such rage, Aemond noted.

He watched with glee as Vaemond argued with your mother, watching Jacaerys shake his head and mutter under his breath whilst his assaulter, Lucerys looked nervous. You had pushed Lucerys beside you, using your body as a shield to keep him out of Vaemond’s line of sight.

Still protecting him.

Aemond felt that bitterness curl through him as he watched.

“Her children... are bastards!” Vaemond yelled into the court, and yet despite it all, Aemond could not keep his eye off of you. As soon as the words left the Velaryon’s lips, he watched as your face calmed.

It was eerie, Aemond thought.

Your hand had moved the slightest of bits towards your side, and Aemond watched as you swayed forward, as though ready to pounce. There was no blush on your cheeks, no sneer on your lips, just a fire burning in your eyes as you watched your Velaryon uncle.

“And she…is…a whore.” The man sneered.

“I, shall have your tongue for that.” Aemond’s father called out to the court, standing roughly as he unsheathed the blade from his side.

Aemond would not give the old man a second glance, he knew that his father would do nothing, as he had done nothing for years. And would do nothing as he was too weak from sickness, and too faint of heart.

Movement caught Aemond’s eye, as he watched Vaemond Velaryon’s corpse fall loudly to the ground, the sound of a blade and the loud thud echoing through the chambers.

If Aemond could laugh, he would. But it would not be proper of him.

“He can keep his tongue.” Daemon purred, looking down at his handiwork.

Aemond flicked his sight away from the corpse and up at you. You had not jumped, nor looked away from the body on the floor. No. Instead you glared at it with rage, before suddenly your lips pulled into a small smile.

No-one else in the court would have witnessed it, too busy looking at the body of the man slain in front of them. Your lips looked as though they were fighting to hide the sheer joy and pleasure you got from watching him be killed. A small line of blood was flecked across your cheek, but you did not notice, or if you had, you did not wipe it away.

Such a beautiful smile.

And then suddenly your eyes were on him. And Aemond felt the air be sucked out of the room. You watched him in delight, no longer hiding your smile as you watched him. Such a smug and proud look upon your face. A threat some would say.

The sight made his cock twitch.

There she is.

Aemond felt awe as he watched Daemon move back, wiping his sword on his robes before he came to stand beside you. You took your gaze from your uncle, and looked up at your mothers husband, smiling proudly.

He watched as Daemon ran a finger along your cheek to wipe the Velaryon blood away lovingly, and Aemond felt a pang of jealousy.

Aemond noted that Vaemond was wrong when he said that they wouldn’t know what Velaryon blood looked like, because now the whole court did.

Aemond had been running late for his family feast, something that he had never done before. He prided himself in upholding his duty and being the son that Aegon should have been.

In truth, Aemond had gone straight to his chambers after the events at court, and had pulled roughly at his cock at the thought of you. He wished to touch you, to hold you, to claim you. He wanted to mark you so that everyone knew that you were his. He wanted to watch you swell with his babe.

He had never thought of you this way before and it maddened him. He found his release in his hand three times that day, picturing you on your knees before him, pleasuring him with your soft lips, or him thrusting deep into your cunt.

You had bewitched him.

He had brushed his hair more roughly than he should have, the frustration rolling through him as he prepared to walk down to the feast. And although he had brought himself to climax three times already, he still was not satisfied. He told himself as he walked to the Dining Hall to ignore you, to breathe, to not get caught in the trap of a bastard.

But he was already trapped.

When he entered the room, he noticed all were praying before the meal, his mother Alicent giving him a stern yet disappointing look. It made his heart sting to disappoint her. And this sting, he blamed immediately upon you.

As he walked to the table he let himself gaze at you.

You wore quite the scandalous dress, as though you were purposefully teasing him. No. He was sure you were doing it on purpose. To get a rise out of him. To tempt him into your space.

The neckline was plunging and he could not help but let his eyes linger upon the breasts you had developed. They looked so soft, and Aemond wanted nothing more than to run his tongue over them softly, or bite them roughly.

He could not decide which one he liked the thought of better.

Aemond asked his mother for forgiveness as he sat at his seat, at the opposite end of the table facing you. He held your gaze firm, and when he saw the light blush crawl over your cheeks, he let himself smirk in victory.

Perhaps he affected you the same way you did him.

He watched you carefully that evening, eye roaming your figure wondering if you had been spoiled yet by some man, or woman. He wondered why you had not been betrothed yet, surely a woman of your age should have been promised to some Lord by now.

And then he could not help but think perhaps the Gods were on his side for once, and the reason that you were not engaged yet, meant that you would be his.

Aemond found that he had no hunger that evening, except for a hunger for you. He could not bring himself to eat, nor could he bring himself to take his eye away from you. He still could not believe how much you had grown.

Your lips were fuller now, and had the softest curve to them, than you did when you were young, and the longer he looked, the more he found it difficult to look away. He wondered if you hated him. The way you caught his gaze and sneered, made him assume so.

How could she hate me? He thought.

What had he done to deserve this? She was the one who abandoned him. She was the one who chose her bastard brother over him. She was the one who let him take his eye, and did not care for his pain after.

He felt that anger prickle in the back of his head as he watched her.

He watched his niece dance, and laugh with his sister. He watched them break each other's cold masks and for one second, he thought he was looking back in time, from when they had all been children. Back to when Helaena and Y/n had been inseparable.

Or so he had thought.

He found that as he watched them dance and enjoy each other's company, he could no longer sneer. He could no longer hold such disdain and anger. It gave him a lick of hope. A disgusting, fickle piece of hope that perhaps one day, he could have her, and she would want it.

But then Jacaerys took Helaena to dance, and suddenly he felt that anger redirected.

How dare the dirty bastard touch her like that. How dare he make her smile. How dare his disgusting Strong hands touch Helaena so gently, hold her as though he knew her intimately.

He didn’t.

His nephew could never know just how beautiful Helaena was, just how beautiful she could be.

No one deserved her.

Not even Aemond himself.

And as he found himself scowling at his nephew he heard the soft, yet sharp call of your voice, turning his attention back to you, hackles on his back up and ready to fight from your tone.

You were mocking him.

“Prince Aemond, were you riding Vhagar this evening? I thought I saw her soaring up into the sky. When you didn’t arrive on time, I worried that a storm had come and taken you.” She inquired, fake concern lacing her venomous tongue.

You little bitch.

Aemond had to school himself, and so he reached out to hold his goblet, taking a sip of the spiced wine to give him time to think before reacting. He had been reacting to her all day, and found that if he did it again, he would have to take her, right there and then, before their family to show them who she truly belonged to.

“I was merely enjoying the night sky, dear niece.”

Lie. He was thinking of your soft thighs, and sweet lips and warm-

“It's not everyday you have the world's largest dragon, and I make a habit of reminding myself of that.”

And Gods, he could not lie that when your next words spilled from your lips, and the cruel smile you gave him, he had not really listened to your words. He had not even given thought to your attempt to goad him into a fight. Because he was ready, and he had been all too ready since the day you came back.

Since the day he saw you in the training yard.

Aemond had been ready to lash out at you for what you had done to him. For abandoning him. For choosing your bastard brothers and whore mother over him. For ruining what could have been. For what you had made him feel. For how weak he had become.

He was almost as bad as Aegon, and that was what made it so much worse.

He had planned to leave it, he had planned to not give in. To show who was superior, to show the grace of a true Targaryen, not a bastard of a disgraced whore Princess, who would never sit upon the throne. He clenched his teeth so hard in his mouth, that all he could do was hum in response.

But then the Gods were cruel, and fate was even crueler, and he watched in horror as a roasted pig was placed before him. He knew it was coming, he knew the cards that were about to be dealt, and he felt the slightest itch of his scar as his lone eye looked upon a stark reminder of his youth.

He listened as Lucerys snorted, just like the pig at his expense, and it all came flooding back.

The taunting, the mocking, the cruelty, his eye.

All of it.

But losing his eye did not hurt nearly as much as watching you abandon him for them.

“Is that not your first dragon, uncle Aemond? What had you named it again? The Pink Dread?” You teased, smirking at him and Aemond heard as the others giggled from the table, even Aegon.

Aegon was the worst of them all.

And despite everything he had done for his brother, the years of protecting him, the years of coddling him and allowing him to be the disgusting man that he was, it still wasn’t good enough. Aegon still called Aemond a twat, and mocked him. Made a mockery of their position as Targaryen Princes. Forcing him to a Pleasure house at ten-and-three, telling him it was ‘time to get it wet’.

But he hadn’t wanted to.

And there it was.

That anger that he tried so desperately to push deep within him. That anger his mother had tried to school out of him, the anger that only Helaena seemed to soothe with her kind words and comfort. She was the only one in the Keep who did not treat him like a monster. She was the only one he had left.

Fuck it.

Aemond slammed his hand on the table, feeling the wood sting his palm as he stood to his full height, holding out his goblet to her, watching her shit eating grin slowly fall from her face.

“Final tribute.” He began, directing that anger carefully into his next words.

He watched as she stiffened, eyes flicking about the table, gauging the other's reactions.

“To the health of my nephew's, Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise,” He paused, watching her as she began to anticipate the next words, “Hm… Strong."

Watching her face turn to frown at him, to scowl at him, to burst with such hatred, made his blood rush through his body and into his cock.

And so he continued.

What a rush.

How good it felt to hurt her the way she had hurt him. To make her feel just as lowly as she had made him feel. How her brothers had made him feel for years.

He heard his mother say his name but he ignored it. He would deal with the repercussions later, though he doubted he would. She had never stopped him before, and in fact was brazen with discussing the illegitimacy of the Strong boys, so why start now.

“And to my darling niece, some cast doubts about her strength, but I can see that she is just as Strong as her brothers.”

She was simmering with rage by then and all he could think of was how glorious it would be to put her in her place. To bend her to his will, to snuff out that fire inside of her.

"Let us raise our cups, to these three Strong boys, and their Strong sister." Aemond purred, watching her clench her entire body, hands in fists so tight, her knuckles turned white.

Aemond heard the irritating growl of his nephew Jace, “I dare you to say that again.”

Aemond could not help but smile. This would be little challenge. Though Jace had grown, Aemond was still older and bigger, and doubted the younger boy trained as hard as he did with the sword.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”

Aemond felt the dull ache on his cheek, his head whipping to the side as Jacaerys laid his fist into his face. His hand still held his goblet, and he noted to himself with great pride, that he had not spilt a drop of wine on the floor.

Turning back, Aemond used little effort to shove his nephew to the floor, watching in his periphery as Lucerys tried in vain to help, as Aegon slammed him into the table by the scruff of his neck.

Down boy.

And then you did something that had not shocked him in the slightest. You grasped the fork from the table, calling out to him with a voice that was laced with venom.

“Say that again. Say that again I dare you!”

Seeing that tiny fork in your hand made him smile even more. He doubted you even trained yourself, and his size and strength could certainly overpower you.

And how he could not wait to bend you over the table and f-

“No. I want to hear what my uncle has to say.” She heaved a breath, “Speak Aemond, so that we may hear your treasonous lies again.”

My little dragon. Such fire.

He felt an overwhelming sense of pride as he watched you heave angry breaths, eyes wide as you clutched the pathetic fork. So proud in fact, that he found himself grinning.

He had only seen this side of you a handful of times as a child.

Defending Helaena when Aegon would question her intelligence or sanity.

Defending Lucerys and Jacaerys when he and Aegon would call them bastards together, or taunt them once their mother Alicent had told them of the threat of Rhaenyra ascending the throne and her bastard children.

Even defending him.

It made his lips pull wider.

It was not often that Aemond grinned. Sure he smirked, and occasionally smiled, but rarely did he show his teeth. Those sharp incisors that he would have no issue using to bite down on the soft flesh of your thighs, or the stiffened bud of your nipple.

As soon as he bared his teeth to the room, you were moving and he watched in awe as you charged straight for him, much like his mother had done to Rhaenyra all those years ago.

It was uncanny, the wildness in your eyes. Such devotion.

Such love.

And then you were before him, breasts pushing against the confines of your dress as you heaved angrily, eyes dancing across his face, demanding he answer you.

Commanding him to answer.

He felt the prongs of the fork underneath his neck and could not help but feel himself begin to harden under the tight confines of his pants.

You were so close to him, the closest you had been since you were children. He could see the purple of your eyes, and the blush on your cheeks from the wine and your anger. He could see the small freckles you had on your face, and smell the oils on your skin.

You smelt sweet, earthy, musky. It was addictive, it was arousing. It was everything he had hoped and dreamed of that day, cock in hand. It took all of his strength to not dip his head down and capture your lips with his. To taste the spiced wine that would surely be on your tongue. To drink down your essence and be full of it.

He wanted to be full of you, to taste you. To lick at your weeping cunt as you cried beneath him, begging him. More, more, please Aemond, please uncle, more. He wanted to drink your release as it leaked from you, as he brought you to climax, time and time again.

“Say. That. Again.” The little dragon spat.

If he did not preoccupy his lips with something, he would kiss you. He could not help it. You were magnetic. And enigma. A force to be reckoned with. The Gods had taken their time with you.

And so he lifted the goblet to his lips to sip, but your small hand swiped it away, causing the wine and goblet to spill onto the ground.

As soon as your hand brushed against his, he felt an electric jolt. It had been so long since you had touched him.

Touch me again.

And then Daemon was behind you, whispering in your ear and Aemond watched as your strength wavered, as contemplation flickered across your face. As all the emotions flashed quickly and disappeared as he continued to urge you to stand down.

How had his uncle tamed you so well?

How had this man made you so pliable? Aemond found himself more and more jealous of the relationship the two of you had. And the more he looked at you both, so close together, as you had grown into your face, the more he recognised certain features.

Certain mannerisms.

And then his uncle was staring him down, as he crowded his niece in front of him, whispering so lowly, that no-one else but the three of you would hear.

“Issa ñuha tala.” (She is my daughter.)

And then it all made sense.

That fire, that rogue air about you.

The way you held no fear around the Prince, the way you did not flinch, and leant into his touch. The way Daemon doted on you more than any of his other children.

You were his.

You were not a Strong bastard.

You were fire.

And that made Aemond more determined than ever to have you.

And he would have you.

No matter the cost.

Argh so here it is, a lil blurb of Aemond's POV from 'Smoke, Fire and Ash'. I thought it would be best to show you the beginning of his descent into pure obsession with the reader. Sure there had been a possessiveness from the start as children, but it had been innocent, until the reader came back to the Keep fully grown. The pair truly force each others hand, neither one knowing when to stop and only making things worse. It's beautiful :')

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splatoonpolls · 8 months

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So with the latest splatfest, I wanted to make something less toxic than the worst stage poll

So I’m introducing…

Don’t worry! Worst stage will happen. Just later on, and hopefully not after or before a splatfest.

THE SPLATOON OC TOURNEY!!!

(Inspired by @tf2shipswag oc tournament)

All ocs are welcomed! Not just our inklings and Octolings! If you got an oc who’s an overworked bird beaked dog fish who takes the deep sea metro everyday they’re also welcomed! So yeah! ALL OCS COUNT!

Extra rules

Have fun!

Make sure to make propaganda for your oc before and during the tourney! And make sure to @me while you’re at it!

Have fun! Once more!

Reminder, the oc needs to be splatoon related

Also if you fill it out you will see the gato!

Form closes 1/8 (October 1st)!

Guys, btw about the propaganda bit

Make your own posts. I just recommend it over reblogging this post

#splatoon #splatoon polls #splatoon 3 #splatoon 2 #polls #tourney #tournament #splatoon oc #splatoon ocs

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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Half-mad with lust

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen/Reader

Tags: Aegon is a drunk asshole, vaginal sex, switch!Aegon, Dornish!reader, some oc’s made for ~immersion~, targs everywhere, other HOTD characters mentioned, dirty talk, tit sucking, power dynamics, general filth

Synopsis: The princess Aliandra Martell’s lady-in-waiting attends a royal tourney with her. She expects to bed a lord, but not the wayward dragon prince. Aegon won’t forget to ever disappoint a Dornish lady again.

Find me on ao3 at secretsun :)

The tourney celebration was soon to be in full swing. It was in honor of Prince Aegon’s children Jaehaerys and Jaehaera’s second name day. Bannermen and houses from all over the Seven Kingdoms had come. Even the queer folk of the free cities and the feathered ebon-skinned men of the Summer Isles. All to celebrate the twins making it past the perilous years of toddling.

Dorne and it’s people were on rocky terms with the Targaryens, but would come up for a grand tourney. You were a lady-in-waiting to the young princess Aliandra Martell. As an Uller of Hellholt you were of noble heritage and chosen to be the girl’s guide since you were young. It had been wonderful so far— you’d been all over the world with the precocious princess.

The royal in question bounced on her sand steed, ranting about handsome knights. You nodded along, keeping your eyes peeled for the familiar red and yellow colors of your house. They had not sent you any letters of late. House Uller did not have the best reputation, known for being merciless and the slayers of Queen Rhaenys and Meraxes. Your family tended to keep up in the sand next to the stinking sulfurous Brimstone. Noble house Dayne or proud Yronwood would be more like to show up besides the Martells.

The hand had promised the Martell’s a sumptuous tent in the Kingswood. The men-at-arms would have to camp in lesser circumstances. Aliandra’s wide brown eyes turned to you, asking, “Do you think you’ll find a comely knight to bed?” You laughed brazenly and chided, “Keep that language to a minimum m’lady— we’re out of the Marches. Among noble and decent folk’.”

Aliandra giggled and the knight next to you snorted under his helm. The kingdom outside of Dorne worshipped pious gods and stuck to stuffy rules but acted the opposite. Even at Sunspear rumors swirled of the tension between the Targaryens and Hightowers at the Red Keep. The weak King Viserys kept a blind eye and claimed Rhaenyra as his heir. How Rhoynish of him.

Your party slowly made it’s way down the King’s Road, surrounded by vassals of House Martell and it’s men. The Red Keep loomed in the distance and the crystal towers of the Sept sparkled under the sun. You could hear the voices from the throngs of people set up in the fields outside the city’s walls. You scrunched your nose at the stench of the city and the Blackwater.

Aliandra snarked, “You grew up next to the Brimstone why are you green?”

You sniped back, “Sulphur is much more palatable than dead fish and swine.”

“House Martell and it’s members, it’s an honor!,” came a voice.

Lyonel Dayne, the castellan of Sunspear laughed under his breath, “Of course they send a Dornish to welcome the Dornish.” Ser Criston Cole in the white cloak of the Kingsguard arrived on a sturdy courser. His handsome face beamed at Aliandra. He announced, “Warm welcomes from the on behalf of the Targaryens to my countrymen and Princess. Follow me to your tents please.”

Lyonel nodded brusquely and motioned for everyone to follow. Ser Criston asked the young Princess, “Why are you not in a litter or wheelhouse m’lady?”

Aliandra flirted easily for a young girl, coyly remarking, “A Princess of Dorne rides with her people.”

The crowd murmured in agreement, Cole lauding her bravery. Tall banners of the three headed dragon littered the grounds along with many others of the great houses down to the smaller nobility. Your lips quirked up at the sigil of the Direwolf— even the frigid northmen came. A grand tent was erected with the familiar symbol of a sun pierced by a spear. Aliandra cheered, “How beautiful! Anserys make sure to decorate it…more at home!” The mute Lyseni servant nodded from behind, a cart loaded down with costly silken pillows and woven Myrish rugs attached to his horse.

Lord Dayne helped the Princess down and her Martell cousin assisted you from your gelding. Taron smirked down at you, his dark skin gleaming in the hot sun. He murmured, “Say, you might need to hide now. I don’t know how the Dragons might feel of an Uller in their nest.”

You rolled your eyes and lamented, “It’s been years Taron, begone you fool.”

The castellan barked orders at the men and servants while Aliandra awed at the sights around. She tugged on your silken sleeve and asked, “Can we take a walk around? C’mon hellmaid!“ You laughed at her crude nickname and ushered the girl to move along. There was some time to be wasted before the quarters were set up.

You stood silently while the girl chatted up some of the great houses; Lannister, Arryn, and Stark. The Tyrells sniffed and looked the other way. You had to pull the Princess away from her glaring at the Baratheon party. Lord Borros had made the marches bloody many times. Walking by a babbling stream she said, “I’d like to meet the Targaryen’s already. Or the Velaryons. Make me a Queen someday!”

You laughed bitterly, “I’d run away little Ali. Queer folk, marrying into eachother and claiming themselves closer to god than men. Their own Septon doesn’t condone it but obeys or will be eaten by Dragons.”

“Oh! Dragons! I hope to see one! I’ve heard Prince Aegon’s Sunfyre is the most beautiful one of all. Or Vhagar!,” she grew quiet, “No not that one.”

You frowned slightly. Hellholt stood but the desert around was still so scorched in places it had turned into black glass. Vhagar and Balerion had turned Dorne into a fire pit for many a moon. Your father told you stories of the Dragon’s Wroth. You’d rather see the dragons from a distance. Aliandra bounded over a couple of mossy rocks, causing you to snatch the dark girl.

“Don’t get filthy now, we have a feast to attend tonight foolish Princess!”

Later on you had idly watched, offering advice as the handmaidens dressed Aliandra. She looked beautiful as ever, clad in burnished orange silk. The sigil of her house was delicately painted on her sleeves. Gold rings adorned her hands and wrists, and a small circlet topped the swath of black glossy hair. They smudged her dark eyes with kohl. You murmured sweetly, “Breathtaking my Princess. Once you’re of age I think more lords will line up than Rhaenyra’s ball ages ago.”

Aliandra smugly did a twirl, batting her eyes in the mirror. She declared, “I will conquer a dragon tonight.” You laughed again, tucking your own glossed hair behind an ear. The Princess of Dorne had picked out your outfit to your chagrin. The dress was handsome but was very low cut. Which was no problem in Dorne, but the Crownlands might differ. You were grateful for the airiness of the gown, as it was muggy outside.

The silks of your dress were layered with the fiery colors of Uller. You wore thick gold jewelry with rubies and citrine. Aliandra’s old wet nurse

provided you with a perfume of citrus, it reminded you of the oranges and sour fruits outside of Sunspear. The princess herself doted on you, applying kohl to your eyes. She huffed, “Find yourself a lord for the night! I want gossip.” You acquiesced, “Sure sure, maybe I’ll entice old Lyonel. I’d like to see his sword of the morning.”

The pair of you descended into giggles. One last brush up and your party was led to the set up for the feast. There were fine ironwood tables set up facing the dais adorned with dragons. The royals sat their with their blonde hair and purple eyes— save Rhaenyra’s curious sons and the Hightowers.

A dwarf announced, “Hailing from the desolate unconquered lands of Dorne! The Princess Aliandra of House Martell. Accompanied by Ser Lyonel Dayne and her motley party of southron deviants!”

The crowds laughed and the King clapped his hands in glee. The princess took it in stride, giving a saucy wink to the crowd. She nodded at a servant. Now stepped forward the child spoke evenly, “I bear gifts for the young dragons.” The squat boy kneeled with a large box. Ser Criston grabbed it and handed it to princess Helaena who was smiling softly.

She opened the gift. It contained two child sized coats of beautiful white fur. Helaena nodded and thanked the princess. Aliandra announced, “Two fine coats for drafty weather. Made of the little Valyrian lemurs from the great forest of Qohor.” The king Viserys rasped, “How wonderful, thank you princess.” The queen lifted her cup. The rest of the Targaryens seemed unphased.

Unfortunately your table was next to the proud Lannisters. Somehow Lord Jason’s ego rubbed off on the young Martell. You sipped your wine and halfheartedly listened to the lion lord’s tales. Your eyes wandered around. On the dais the King was suspiciously now gone. He looked ill earlier. Princess Rhaenyra smiled coyly as the infamous Daemon whispered something in her ear. Her brown headed boys chuckled about something. To the left the queen held a pinched face next to the hand.

The second son Aemond Targaryen glared about the crowd, his one eye piercing. Helaena bounced her youngest child. Your eyes widened when they met with purple. Prince Aegon stared right back at you. His full lips quirked up and violet glassy eyes seemed to take off your clothing. You were not going to bow to this drunken dragon.

You raised one brow daringly, the prince’s eyebrows furrowing back. One of his ringed hands pushed back his platinum hair. You brought your hand up and blew a kiss at the prince with hooded eyes. His once blasé expression morphed into a lecherous grin. He mouthed, “A dance later?” You mouthed back, “I would hope so.”

The prince blushed and turned away when one of his family said something. You gulped your wine and sniggered. The prince may have a reputation for whoring but he’d never lain with a Uller. Taron whispered, “Have I had too much strongwine or I just saw you and Aegon Targaryen eye-fucking?”

“Mayhaps Taron, mayhaps,” you replied enigmatically.

A jaunty tune started to play as lords and ladies filtered out to dance. Aliandra lept up with you behind. Jason Lannister offered his hand to the princess graciously. You waited for the great houses to pair up before getting in line. You partnered up with a comely knight bearing the sigil of House Bracken, sullen and intense. Round and round you went breathlessly until you met the violet eyes from earlier.

“There you are,” Prince Aegon mused. His hands followed yours in a pattern. You replied, “Here I am your grace.” The pair of you twirled in the throng of people. From a distance you could hear your princess’ childish giggle. Aegon inquired, “You’re not a Martell, what house? Gods know you all wear red.”

Slight uneasiness warped your voice when you managed, “Uller of Hellholt.”

Aegon laughed, a manic sound. He sneered, “Ah- the burners and dragon slayers from the stinking river.” Your eyes narrowed as his warm hands pinched your waist. He smelled of herbs, smoke, and sweet wine. You jabbed, “So that makes your family the sister-fucking usurpers then?”

Aegon’s full lips split into a grin as he twisted you round and pulled your back to his chest. He hummed into your ear, “Maybe Sunfyre and I can take a trip to Hellholt and see if it still burns? I like you, much more fight than the usual lady.” He nipped at the shell of your ear. The nobility danced on around you. “You must not know what they say about us your grace,” you craned your head to stare, “Half of the Ullers are half-mad, and the other half are worse.”

“Fine with me,” Aegon said. You raised up to bite his lip playfully. You drew blood and threw yourself into the throngs of people, spinning through the crowd to evade detection. The prince gasped and touched the now-throbbing flesh. He licked at the blood and shivered, his interest in you fully awakened.

Aegon zig-zagged through the crowd, shrugging off old Hobert Hightower in his pursuit. He caught a glimpse of your fiery dress and shoved a lad in the bronze colors of House Royce aside. You turned to beckon him with a wink, the prince huffing and calling out, “Quit playing hell spawn!”

“After you dragonspawn!,” you laughed.

He chased you to the edge of the encampment. The creek you walked along with Ali still babbled on in the darkness. You tripped on the silks of your dress, stumbling forwards with a squawk. Prince Aegon swept you up into his arms with a delighted cheer. You playfully struggled against him, stamping a foot down on his own. Aegon yelped and grabbed a fistful of your hair, craning your head painfully.

With a delighted moan you relented. The silver prince growled, “Done with your games now?” You breathed, “I think so- the chase just gets the uh, blood up Hm?” You tilted your hips back into his straining member, the other’s violet eyes falling shut with a groan. Aegon’s hands pinched at the yielding flesh on your hips and ass. His lips found their way to the sensitive column of your neck.

You impatiently uttered, “Your grace? Are you going to hump me like a green boy or fuck me senseless? I can tell you’re used to pillow houses.”

Aegon’s lips stopped and he sucked in a breath. In hurried jerks he shoved you down to the ground. You groaned as your face was shoved against the cold loam of the ground. He hissed from behind, “You Dornish are insolent— I’d have your tongue for speaking to your prince like that!” Gloved hands hiked up your dress, exposing you to the cool breeze. You gasped and bit out, “You love it,” you tossed your hair, “Someone to show you how to actually work your cock.”

Aegon shoved himself to the hilt in your sex, the pair of you crying out. He started a brutal pace, gripping your ass roughly. He growled into your ear, “I doubt your kind cares, you’re bred to be sluts. Shut the fuck up and take it.” You rolled your eyes and clenched down on the Prince, him making a weak noise in response. Your fingers dug into the ground as he pounded into your most sensitive spot.

You replied, much breathier than intended, “Do you even know what a clitoris is?”

A pinch to your swollen button was his response.

R’hllors blood red fires please.

You bucked back against Aegon’s eager pumps, whining in pleasure. One of his ringed hands curled into your hair, pulling roughly. Your lashes fluttered and you clenched again, the Prince abusing your wet cunt. One of your hands drifted between your legs and rubbed at your clit. Aegon yanked harder and slurred, “Slut.” You could feel his thighs tremble against your own.

Your moans pitched up when he used a hand to bend your back further, sliding his cock impossibly deeper. You hissed, “C’mon and make me come your grace, fill me up.” Aegon’s hips stuttered and he suddenly released— hot spurts of come painting your cunt. He groaned throatily, pressing his hips tightly against your cheeks. Your mouth set in a thin line at his early climax.

He slid out of you with a wince, falling onto his back with a silly smile. He waved a hand and haughtily laughed, “Not much of a difference between you and the Sands on the street of silk.” You clambered onto your haunches, hot anger filling your chest.

You’d show the bratty Prince.

Quickly you turned and straddled the drunk Targaryen. One of your slim hands encircled his throat, the bangles on your wrist clinking in the night air. His purple eyes widened and the smirk fell off his plush lips. Your other hand pulled out a small blade from the layers of your dress and held it to his pale throat.

You grinned down at him, watching the fear and lust wrestle in his expression. You darkly whispered, “I’d say you are no better than any other green boy looking for something exotic, cumming so fast. You owe me, your grace.” Aegon’s soft cock stirred to life against your weeping opening, him gaping at you.

You laughed, “What? Nothing to say? Not very similar to your namesake.”

He leveled, “Put down the blade.”

“Ask nicely.”

A thin whine left his lips, his cock jumping again. He begged, “Please m’lady— put down the blade. I’ll play nice.”

You carefully laid the shank down, giving his pretty throat a warning squeeze. You leaned into his face and smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of Aegon’s full lips. He moaned softly, squirming under your powerful thighs. You cooed, “That wasn’t so hard. Princeling just needed a firm hand.” You nipped at his swollen bottom lip again, before sliding your tongue in.

His hands moved to your thighs, so gently as if he were asking permission. You groaned against his lips, “No farther.” Your tongue danced against his own, lips slotting together eagerly. Aegon’s hands twitched as he fought for purchase. He failed with an aborted whine when you gingerly suckled on his tongue.

Moving downward you mouthed against his jaw and murmured, “You have such pretty skin, I think I’ll mark it up.” Aegon’s head and cock jerked eagerly. You sucked a blooming mark into his throat, rutting your hips downward at his soft noises. Soon a necklace blossomed on the thin skin in mottled purples and reds. Aegon’s dick leaked against your own sex needily. He pled softly under his breath for you.

You asked meanly, “Does the dragon prince want my pussy?”

He sniveled, “Please, please, need it.”

You licked a salty tear up and slid down the top of your dress, exposing your breasts. Aegon’s eyes bugged and his fingers dug into the meat of your thighs. He begged again, “Oh please- let me have a taste- I’ll be so good.” Thumbing at his cheek you grinned down at the poor thing. It’s always the ones who strut around like an inflated peacock who cry under a little pressure.

“Since you’re being so nice now, sure.”

He eagerly pressed his face into your tits, sucking at a nipple. You moved his hand to the untouched other bud, the prince thumbing and pinching. You took the moment to slide onto his flushed cock, throwing your head back. Aegon moaned around a nipple, his eyelids fluttering in ecstasy. You rode him at a brisk pace, angling your hips forward for more stimulation.

You moaned, “That’s a good fucktoy, see how much better it is when you’re not a brat?”

Aegon babbled something incoherent, completely under your spell now. You slapped his cheek, the flushed skin turning redder at the contact. You hissed, “Speak whore.” He mewled, eyes glassy with lust, “Y-yes fuck it’s s’good!” You shoved his platinum head back to your swollen tits, yanking so hard some hair came out.

“C’mon and make me come this time,” you moaned.

You were close, just from your intense bouncing and Aegon’s wide watery eyes. He weakly cursed you, “D-Dornish witch- fuck!” He obediently rubbed a thumb in circles on your clit, bucking up into your tight cunt. You cried out and trembled as your belly tightened. Your flesh erupted in goosebumps as you milked his flushed cock, releasing with a deep groan.

Aegon sobbed at the feeling of you gush around him, shaking with the intensity of it all. He pleaded, “Ah- ah- lemme’ cum again I’m so fucking hard!” Your fingers and thumbs dug into the vessels on his mottled neck and assented, “You can come silly boy.” He bit his lip bloody again, whimpers and sobs escaping as his seed splashed inside of you. Some escaped from the fullness of your pussy, mixing with older spend and your own release.

Your thighs clamped down on his slim hips again, a smaller orgasm wracking your frame. You gutturally moaned his name and fell forward, still sheathed onto his twitching cock. You laughed at his struck expression, the Targaryen’s face turning into a pout. You gently kissed his abused lips and slid off of the Prince, more spend leaking out and staining his fancy breeches.

He gazed up at you as you sat onto the moist ground next to him. Aegon asked, “Wha- what are you doing?” You dusted yourself off and stood up on coltish legs. With a shrug you replied, “I have to get back to the Princess. She’s going to be ecstatic when I tell her the dragon prince cries like a bitch.” You began your way back to the camp, Aegon staring at you like a lovesick wench. He squawked, “Don’t leave! I have my own tent! Please!”

You called over your shoulder, “The tourney lasts a week, I’m sure I’ll see you in the morn.”

Princess Aliandra waited in her cot, glaring at you petulantly. She questioned, “Who have you been carousing with?” You smirked and whispered as you poked her nose, “I’ll let you guess tomorrow. He’s already smitten.”

Seeing her dark eyes widen when Prince Aegon spilled his wine on his doublet at the sight of you made your morning. You idly looked at the man, eyeing his high collared shirt. He cursed under his breath but his violet eyes were soft. This would be a fun week for you.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #Aegon ii targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #TARGGSSSSS

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arecaceae175 · 1 month

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Fishing tourney

Twilight

Found family

"Fishing tourney time! The rules are simple. Y'all can keep one fish in the bucket at a time. Biggest fish in the bucket when the sun goes down wins," Twilight explained.

Wild raised their hand.

"No, you can't use bombs. Fishing poles only."

Wild lowered their hand.

Legend raised his hand.

"No magic. Just regular ol' fishing poles."

Legend lowered his hand.

Time raised xyr hand.

"No items or masks! Just fishing poles."

Time lowered xyr hand.

Twilight groaned and dragged a hand over his face. They sighed and went to the edge of the dirt in a prime fishing location. They held up their very normal, not enchanted, wooden fishing rod with very normal, not at all magic, bait on the hook.

"You stand here. You use a regular fishing rod. You catch a fish through normal, non-magical methods with said fishing rod. Nothing else. Are we clear?"

Wind raised a hand.

"No magical bait!"

"It's not magic! It's just... enhanced."

Twilight's groan was loud enough to send the birds fleeing from the trees.

#ITS TRANS VISIBILITY DAY #I JUST REMEMBERED #SO EVERYONE HERE IS QUEER AND TRANS #my usual trans identities for them #i don't feel like listing them out here lol #hehehhe #linked universe #lu twilight #three sentence prompt #ace writes #lu wild #lu legend #lu time #lu wind

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hannahhook7744 · 16 days

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got any Sherwood high hc ?

Their school colors are various shades of green and gold/yellow.

They have a decent tourney team.

Their mascot is a falcon.

They have the best archery team.

The school has a pet falcon named 'Forest'.

The school is surrounded by mountains and forests, and is mainly made up wood/logs.

The school has no electricity or indoor plumbing. They use mainly torches, lanterns, and candles and they have outhouses (and there is a lake outside, alongside outdoor showers).

The snowball/mud fights are a nightmare.

Sherwood High has a Robin Hood Statue outside.

Bobby Hood was a sports commentator for the school as a student.

Many of the merrymen are teachers there. Which meant Bobby can't get away with anything. Seriously, they be snitches.

Bobby didn't even get to tell anyone he was dating Tiger Peony himself. Someone in school found out, then told their friends. And rumors fly fast in Sherwood, so the whole school knew before the day was over. INCLUDING THE STAFF.

Bobby's dad sent him a congrats letter the next day.

Bobby spent the last year of his schooling at Auradon Prep. No one at Sherwood High was happy but Bobby refused to spend his makeup year there.

Many Merrymen's children (as well as Robin Hood's many other children) go to school there but so do many of Sherwood's other children. Many of which are human-animal shifters.

Ever seen early schoolings? With chalkboards and stuff? Sherwood school looks mostly like that.

Sherwood High has great decorations (some of them can be considered tacky, because the school is full of hunters...).

The cafeteria serves plenty of fish, meat, veggies, and fruit... as well as homemade juice, fresh milk, and water to drink (they also sell the students' soda/coffee too).

They have the BIGGEST rivalry with Neverland Academy's Gators (tourney team for the school).

Their prank wars are like a battlefield. But it's nowhere near as bad as the rivalry between Seaside High and Olympus High (all of the schools are wildly competitive with each other).

The Wi-Fi is surprisingly decent. No one knows how, though.

#disney descendants #descendants #descendants au #wicked world #disney #disney descendants au #melissa de la cruz #sherwood high #etc

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keystone8379 · 7 months

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keystone you should talk about something in regards to kirby fighters 2 community edition

Oh you're right I haven't done that yet! Regarding Kirby Fighters 2: Community Edition, there is a metric TON of stuff to talk about here. The dev team is some of the closest friends I've ever had. Smash Tactics is a thing because I was able to test the game over and over again with the members of the dev team. We've spent many hours sharing progressively crazier character ideas. We have created some warcrime moves. (or, well, more warcrime moves. KF2 already has plenty of those) I think, however, the best place to start for CE on the KF2 lore account is probably just a development history.

So it's late September, the year is 2020. Kirby Fighters 2 was leaked, got a trailer, and released all within the span of 24 hours. Soon after that, firubii (you might have seen her before) shows her findings from a Twitter datamine, that being evidence of a 3D Kirby game. "Wow! Awesome! I sure hope it's nothing like Battle Royale!" I say at the time. But I digress.

A few months pass and eventually fish gets in touch with Firubii for I believe checking hitboxes and frame data? We get a few things for some of the weirder moves from characters like Ninja, but the fact that a modder was among us got people excited. The prospect of a balance patch mod was an undeniably appealing one and could breathe new life (and a time) into the game. And one that Firubii was interested in.

March 16th, 2021 rolls around and Fish pings everyone saying that they had set up a poll for balance suggested for Firubii to implement. They also got an all star cast of top players and fighting game expects and colgate and me. because I "have lots of opinions." We're all put into a dev chat and poll responses start flowing in.

This poll was crazy. You had Ninja downplaying Mag like crazy. You had Celica Trying His Best. You had nonsense adjustment suggestions like "Not really that effective." But my favourite would have to be probably Qwertz saying to EVERY balance suggestion box "The game needs no balance changes, only quality of life changes."

So we all in the chat start throwing around ideas while not really getting anything done. This will be a running theme. About a month later I was like enough is enough and starting pinging people for proper balance discussions and locking in changes. There's a few notable things we did for v0.1, including making Sword a LOT faster, giving Hammer Palutena's Lightweight, (the s4 custom move) making Bandana Dee's spears stick into the ground for a few seconds, and making Cutter's boomerangs bounce off walls. That last one was our first real criminal change, as Cutter could effortlessly lock down the entire screen. I spent hours labbing counterplay only to find none and grew to despise the character and suggested massive overcorrections for v0.2. Oops.

Overall v0.1 was pretty good! It had some iffy stuff and launched with a Whip desync in game but other than that it was a success I think. It came out during July of 2021, a little under 4 months from the initial announcement. There's a few public tourneys with good turnouts but run via Parsec and Parsec makes me want to commit violent crimes. Progress on 0.2 also goes fairly well. There's some bad ideas in there like making MK not very fun but overall it's not so bad.

Until development just HALTS. To my understanding, I believe it was something personal Firubii was going through but I don't have all the info. Then again, I didn't ask. Like sure, I'd like to have the new CE versions as soon as possible, but ultimately the well being of the people actually making the mod is the top priority, it's why it's so irritating when people are jerks about CE's slow development. Obviously I want the new versions out. But we all have lives outside of this and sometimes other things need doing.

Eventually 0.2 gets out, at the start of Febuary 2022. It's solid but still has some things that irk me. After a few months, we ask for player feedback on overall balance and specific changes and get not many results. Granted, CE doesn't have much players so balance discussion is somewhat meaningless for a game this unexplored. I think 1.0 fixes all of the glaring flaws though.

At some point, once again, development freezes, and this one was rough. No communication from Firubii led to a lot of dooming, especially with how close we got to actually launching 1.0. We DO actually know why she vanished for so long this time, it's because her house caught fire. It didn't burn down don't worry! But this still caught us all SUPER off guard.

Anyway, CE resumed development and went for a little while, but hit a brick wall when trying to add training mode. I'm not an expert on the inner workings of KF2 but I know Firubii talked to Ryn (yes, the goku in strive Ryn) about it a little bit. I actually posted about this to my Threads account but who gives a shit about threads. That's more or less where we are now. It's been a while since the last tester build but what can you do.

There's also a few other things but there wasn't really a good place for them. Colgate thought it was a good idea to make a tierlist video for a game no one could play. It wasn't. I had to spend the days after that video doing damage control. There was a playlist where people could suggest songs to add to CE, but tbh it was more just an excuse to listen to music in VC while we could still do that. We were gonna move off Gamebanana because the site is run by N*zis but this was during the fire arc so didn't happen. AV also thought it'd be a good idea to shittalk CE and ask to join the dev team in the same day. There was also the time we had to rush out a trailer for Savi's Dream Display but I have a few criticisms about that which I'll share with him one day.

I think that's it? If you wanna download the mod I'll link it right here: https://gamebanana.com/mods/303920

#kirby fighters 2 #kf2 #fighting games #fighting game community #community edition #KF2CE #mod #kf2 lore

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anime-food-fight · 7 months

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Anime Food Fight!

So we all know anime features some famously beautifully-rendered depictions of food, from Kiki's iconic fish pie to Yuuri Katsuki's coveted pork cutlet bowls. But which of all these fantastical foodstuffs looks the most delicious? There's only one way to find out: FOOD FIGHT!

Rules:

This probably goes without saying, but all submissions should be from anime!

When submitting food, please specify which anime it's from, and provide a link to a clip or screenshot I can use in the polls!

I don't have a set closing date for the submission form in mind as yet; instead, I will close it when a certain number of submissions has been reached. I will give three days' advanced warning before closing it.

As with most fiction-based polls, please don't submit anything where the creator is indisputably problematic and still in a position to profit off the anime. No Attack on Titan, Rurouni Kenshin, or anything else along those lines, please!

If there's anything you need me to tag for safety reasons, please don't hesitate to ask.

Please don't start any arguments over what does and doesn't count as anime. If I've included a show, that means it was made in Japan from a screenplay that was originally written in Japanese, even if it's an adaptation of a work that wasn't. I also won't be including shows that weren't made in Japan, like Avatar, because I don't want to open that can of worms; but any submissions I might get from those will be posted as honourable mentions instead of competing.

Be respectful to each other. The point of this tourney is to have fun gushing over our favourite drawings of food, so let's mind our table manners, folks!

The title of this bracket is a pun. Please don't actually throw any food at each other.

With all that being said, here's the submission form!:

About the host:

Hullo! My name is Al (er, that's A-L like the Elric brother, not A-I like the robots haha), and my own blog is @mori-no-majou. I use any pronouns, but they/them are my favourites! I like anime almost as much as I like food.

@tournament-announcer I hope you're having a good day!

#anime food fight #tumblr tourney #poll tournament #tw food

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just-some-guy-joust · 1 year

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@ the anon who asked about if a specific fish has been submitted, yes! it has! i will not name it publicly tho since i don't want people to Not submit specific fish just because one or two other people already have! assuming you are not the person who has submitted the creature you asked about, if you really want to be sure they'll get in then ! go nominate them!

#again. i cannot stress this enough. i cannot say this enough times. i will continue to say this until it gets through to everyone #do not worry about what other people have submitted.#i will gladly go through submissions and tell people specifics. AFTER the nomination round is over!#if you want a creature to get in SUBMIT THEM #IF YOU LET A CREATURE GO WITH ONLY 1 SUBMISSION IT MAY NOT GET IN THE TOURNEY #*shaking you* DO YOU UNDERSTAND #SUBMIT EVERY FISH YOU CAN THINK OF IF YOU WANT IT TO GET IN #if you are the same person who submitted the creature you asked about hiii hi worm anon how are you #FOR THE RECORD if you ask if a creature has been submitted and the answer is 0 #i will gladly post that ask publicly. because then some people might submit them #but otherwise i WILL NOT post those #because the trend i've noticed with these tumblr tournaments is #if something is submitted once and everyone following the blog Knows That #then they won't bother submitting it again. and then it doesn't get in the tournament #please please please please please. submit your creatures.#from now on if anyone asks if a creature has been submitted and the answer is more than 0 #i will not bother to even make this kind of post addressing it. so if anyone does ask and never gets a response #don't worry i'm not ignoring you. ...i sort of am but it's just because i can't post that #deep sea fish tourney

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blackbirdblackbird · 2 years

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some kind of uh princess kara/knight lena thing?

The early morning air is fresh and cool as Kara ascends the stairs from the palace garden up onto the city wall. She crests the wall, turning her face towards the warm sun and taking a deep breath mingled scents of the sea breeze and sweet flowers in the garden below.

The brief moment of piece is interrupted by her aunt Astra’s voice calling from further along the wall.

“We missed you at the feast last night.”

She’s dressed as if she’s been standing the early watch, the shining edge of a polished breastplate peaking out from under a dark cloak. Kara nods to her in greeting, then down the wall. Astra returns the greeting, then they fall into step alongside each other.

They walk in a comfortable silence for a while. “I was painting. The flowers are blooming in the high meadows, and the light was lovely,” Kara eventually offers as an explanation. Her eyes are turned out to the sea, where the fishing fleet is heading out for the day, so she feels rather than sees Astra’s stern look. “Father only said he didn’t me to go off sailing.”

“You know what he meant.”

Kara shrugs shamelessly. “You know I have no interest the tourney. I’m not impressed by pointless show violence.”

Astra laughs. “You know, I’ve been to the tavern with you. You’ve never seemed opposed to a little violence there, especially when there’s a pretty girl to impress.”

“That’s different,” Kara protests.

They stand aside then to allow a pair of soldiers of the guard to pass. Kara takes the opportunity to hide her burning cheeks from Astra, leaning over inner parapet and looking at the garden below them.

Once the guards pass out of earshot, Astra speaks again.

“It’s not like the old days. All that’s expected is you show up a couple times, and dance with the champion at the victory feast.”

“If I have to listen to the story of how my father passed you in favour of your sister after you won the melee again, I’ll scream,” Kara says blandly.

Whatever Astra says in response is lost to Kara.

This section of the garden is mostly covered in trees, with paths winding under them, but almost directly below where Kara and Astra stand is a small grass clearing. A woman stands in the clearing, practicing with a two-handed sword.

She makes a practiced series of graceful, fluid movements; a deadly dance played out in slow motion. Blocking, stabbing; turning, slashing. Each motion precise and calculated and flowing into the next. As she moves, her long dark braid sways across the back of her pale green shirt, and her boots trace out her steps in the dewy grass.

“Who is that knight?” Kara asks, too enthralled to tear her eyes away.

“Now you’re interested?” Astra asks with a laugh. “Oh.” Her surprised tone finally draws Kara’s attention away from the practicing knight. “Do you not recognize her sigil?”

Kara finally notices the leather coat hanging on a branch at the edge of the clearing. It’s folded in a way that distorts the green sigil embroidered on the back, but – oh. An intricate green tree, it’s trunk and roots formed by two back-to-back L’s. “Lena Luthor.”

Kara observes a little longer. Then she turns to find Astra looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “What? Her family cast her out.”

“Yet she still bears their name,” Astra says neutrally.

“An insult to them,” Kara speculates, feeling a strange need to defend the woman she’s never even seen before five minutes ago, and has only heard tales of.

“Perhaps,” Astra admits. She has a scheming look on her face that Kara can’t help but think will bode ill for her. “Cast out or not, I’m sure someone with the upbringing of a lady of her stature wouldn’t miss the official pre-competition breakfast. I’m sure you’ll put in an appearance as well? The great hall. In two hours.” Astra claps her on the shoulder, then is gone away down the wall before Kara can retort.

Quickly putting her out of mind, Kara turns her attention back to the knight – to Lena Luthor – and watches her carry on the graceful, meditative dance of her practice.

#supercorp #fanfic

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fireemblems24 · 1 year

Text

Golden Wildfire Ch 7

More Golden Wildfire spoilers below the cut.

STORY

A Contest of Beasts - Holst vs Berglietz?

Alliance lords vote to counter invade - based.

I like that Lorenz asked about Ordelia's opinion before making his take known. Because it shows he's listening to the opinions of other people.

Man, Judith is so hot. I'm so mad you can't play as her.

ALL the lords voted and said "fuck the Empire." Approved.

Lorenz is so Lorenz. He's still seeing his father's actions as tainting the Gloucester name. Even Claude's burnt out lamo.

Ohhh, Shez gets a say. You know, after suffering though getting forced into "uwu eDeLgArD" in Houses, it's nice Hopes is giving you an honest say. And I say - "Fuck the Empire."

Leonie is out for blood. I love it.

Claude's like "this isn't about personal ambition, but Berglietz' land is 👀👌." Lamo.

I wonder if the Kingdom will take this "wellllll that land is . . . nice." Or if it'll be only about making sure the Empire doesn't do this again.

MAP/SIDE MISSIONS

"New Exam Seals Are Available" - LET'S FUCKING GO!

Arval asking me if I support revenge. Hell yes, let's go! I'm such a sucker for a revenge story.

Lysithea wants to go on a rampage and I support that.

I forgot that the Alliance is planning to invade the Empire and openly talking about grabbing land, lamo. #Deserved. Though it'll melt my Dimitri-loving, Faerghus-defending heart if they're the only crew in the game who doesn't do that.

Forever upset that Judith will likely remain forever unplayable. DLC not looking likely and with Engage around the corner, they'll leave Fodlan behind, so no playable Judith. It's a crime. Someone needs to get arrested.

It's funny how they've cannonized Holst and Berlitgz as the strongest fighters in their respective countries but you don't get to play as them in Houses, lamo.

Even Gatekeeper wants revenge against the Empire.

The first side-mission has us escorting a commoner to safety. But aren't we invading? So who's endangering the Empire commoners . . . Empire soldiers?? Doesn't make sense.

Bergliez is sooooo ugly. He's also stupid. Oh, the Alliance is invading? Naw, not worth worrying Edelgard over.

Caspar's kinda unlikeable in this game, ngl.

Oh, Shahid is going to ruin Claude's invasion. And he's causing chaos because Claude is gone, or he wouldn't be allowed to.

SHEZ & HOLST C SUPPORT

Finally get to know Hilda's mysterious brother better. Total missed opportunity to make him look anything other than exactly what you'd imagine big, strong army dude should look like. I mean, if Hilda can swing around an axe and Dimitri can lift a horse, Holst doesn't have to look realistic for his strength either. Oh well.

Holst always holds back when sparring. I wonder if that's how Balthus beat him in a tourney.

Kinda refreshing to see Holst isn't weird about what Hilda does with her body.

CLAUDE & HOLST C SUPPORT

Holst takes training very seriously.

I forgot Holst didn't have a crest.

This support is these two exchanging compliments, then being like, no, I'm not that great, say that again.

Holst is partly loyal to Claude because Hilda is.

HOLST & HILDA B SUPPORT

Holst "sensed" Hilda's presence, like a spider sense

So far this is more about training and encouraging Hilda to apply herself/live up to her potential and not creepy, which is refreshing

So what is Holst's excuse for not being there in Houses?

I like how Holst has a lot of reasons to be with the group in this support and not just a sis-con complex.

Gotta say Holst and Rodrigue >>>>>>x100000 compared to Monica. BE got robbed of getting an actual character.

HILDA & LORENZ B SUPPORT

This is their only support. Weird it's a B one.

There's like a rose painting in the background of this. Is that because of Lorenz? I'm guessing it's generic, but it's funny.

More about Lorenz's search for the perfect wife for the Gloucester house.

Lorenz is def fishing to see if Hilda's interested. Probably not a good match, lamo.

Hilda wants to travel. A woman after my own heart.

Lorenz is like, travel is too dangerous for you, you should settle down instead. I'd give him a big middle finger.

Lamo, he offers that she visit his lands. Sorta a "you tried at being smooth" award.

HOLST & BALTHUS B SUPPORT

Balthus is trying to sneak out, but Holst catches him. Appreciate that Holst threatens to write him up despite being friends.

It all comes to a crashing to a halt when he agrees to come along though. I think he used proper ways to leave though lol.

They're talking about Hilda, but Balthus has no Hilda support. Y

Balthus mimicking Hilda is funny.

Really seems like Seteth and Flayn 2.0 where a man can't understand why a woman doesn't want them hovering over them 24/7

SHEZ & MARIANNE B SUPPORT

Marianne doesn't eat meat. My precious girl.

They're grown more comfortable with each other. I'm happy their relationship is a friendship one. Marianne deserves all the friends.

Shez is encouraging her to socialize with other people.

Marianne brings up her curse, which makes her run from Shez too :(

HILDA & RAPHAEL B SUPPORT

Hilda is checking on Raphael and compares him to Holst.

Raphael looks up to Holst a lot, both his strength and how he looks out for family. I'm glad that part of Raphael didn't get dropped like it did for Alois.

Holst and Raphael are friends, but they don't have supports. Whyyyy.

They swapped sister stories. Kinda sweet. Glad it's not creepy lamo.

Raphael's sister played a reverse uno card and I love it, saying she'll have to make sure Raphael's future wife is good enough rather than the usual dad with gun standing by daughter blehness

LYSITHEA & IGNATZ C SUPPORT

Getting flashbacks, guys. Hopefully she's nicer to him this time around.

She's thanking him. She's being nice.

And then she's like "I thought knighthood would be too much for you" lamo.

Wait, wait, wait. Ignatz doesn't have a crest, right? And he's not a noble, right? But he's still getting forced into a role he doesn't want because his parents are pressuring him into it. I know this is going to sound crazy . . . but maybe, just maybe, Rhea has nothing to do with human failures. And the stuff that gets blamed on the "crest system" would happen even without crests. Shocking. I know. I know. Very original.

Lysithea finds Ignatz commendable for that decision. GUYS, does this mean she'd support the Crest System? I need to write a shit post about this.

Who would've guessed this support would get me so fired up? But I honestly never considered how Ignatz's parents punch so many holes in the nonsense people say in and outside of the game about Rhea. Their assholery towards their son is good for something now!

FINAL BATTLE + STORY

If it's at Gronder Field, does that mean Dimitri's there?

Poor Lorenz is scared :( He's really one of the breakouts of Hopes for me.

Does every single level have Jeralt and Byleth? It's getting super old really fast.

Glad Leonie and Shez are addressing the whole Jeralt thing.

I forget Claude is invading them, trying to take their lands, lamo. This makes Dimitri the only one who's never been an Imperialist

(but it's hard to blame Claude)

Always feels good to recruit Petra away from the Empire

Cool cut scene, rooting for Holst. It ended in a draw. Lame.

Two cut scenes. But this is another Byleth vs Shez one. Byleth is cheating with time warp.

Put Sothis next to Alois in characters the writers hate.

Lamo, Claude tried to invade and got his ass handed to him. At least Edelgard, in her route, conquers successfully. And this is why you Stan Dimitri.

Really? Really? Almyra attacks? Isn't that oddly convenient.

You know, this game is fun and all, but SB is basically just backtracking - the plot - and not Claude gets hit with this too. It's a bit dull.

That's Ok, as long as Dimitri and the Blue Lions get the good plot, I'm not as bothered by this silliness in others.

Arval protesting that their power wasn't not enough when like, it wasn't lamo.

Arval is cooler than Sothis. Or they just character assassinated Sothis to make Arval look better?

Was that the same cut scene as in SB and AG? Because I swear I've seen this conversation before. It's like 2 am and I haven't played in like a month so I'm not all clear right now lol.

Yeah, pretty sure this is the same that I've already seen.

Wow, my 3 favorites so far: Monica, Caspar, and Bergliez. /s

Bergliez has like a shockingly ugly face. At least he cares enough about the Empire to not chase after Claude because he's worried about burning the food. Asshole Caspar doesn't give a shit and is upset he can't keep murdering people. I swear, Caspar when he's with Edelgard turns into a HORRIBLE person.

Monica's like "it's shocking, but we actually respected an enemy!" And Hubert's upset about it. Like, wow. Being shocked her generals are respecting enemies isn't a good look.

Now this bitch is like, maybe we shouldn't conquer the Alliance and just beat up the Kingdom. Like, why? Because Bergliez decided he likes Holst and Claude? What sort of clowns are leading the Empire?

Hubert is like "right, though military means." Lamo, bitch still wants to conquer them.

Claude kicked Edelgard's ass too many times lamo.

#golden wildfire #fire emblem #fire emblem three hopes #three hopes #three hopes spoilers #golden wildfire spoilers

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