#house fo the dragon imagines

[theship-thewalrus]

anything for you

aemond targaryen x female! reader

aemond is completely infatuated with you, doing anything you could ask

word count: 595 words reading time: about 4 minutes warnings: none

note: this fic can be read as a part two

The silence of the garden provided you some solace from the suffocating energy of the Red Keep. You were an outsider amongst the Targaryens that resided in the Keep. You were no Targaryen, a simple Noblewoman who was granted the privilege of being the handmaid to Helaena Targaryen.

Though the strange girl was often looked down upon for her strange nature. You found her peronsality endearing, a certain innocence not nursed in the cold and cruel Keep. The young woman liked you, often telling you of her thoughts or the secrets she may have heard. Yet she did not know what she told you was not to be meant shared.

Twirling a flower in your hand you keep your eyes cast on the soft petals, despite the sound of footsteps approaching. You knew who it was, the only person who seemed to seek you out at times. The only person who welcomed you to the Keep. Aemond Targaryen was a strange man, one incredibly distant as though he is watching everything from above. A cocky man who loves to show off as he trains. A man that believes he is the smartest in the room at times.

You were unsure if his attention was a good or bad thing, but so far it seemed to only be good. For he was completely devoted to you, mind, body and soul. He would do anything you asked, kill anyone you wished for, and burn countless people if it meant you were together. As he had fallen in love with you.

When he first laid his eyes on you, you both were only young. He still had both his eyes. You were someone who talked to him as though he was an equal, not lesser for not having a dragon. When he was maimed you cared not for the scar on his face, not treating him any differently. You were kind when everyone else was not, the single good thing in his otherwise horrid life.

Stopping in front of you his large frame blocked the sun from your eyes. Only then did you grace him with the (e/c) of your eyes, a content smile on your face. Neither of you spoke, there was no need, as with simple glances you could communicate. Something you both perfected over your years together, hiding under everyone's noses.

"Sit, my dear." Your voice is soft yet commanding, Aemond was quick to sit next to you. He sat so close to you that you could feel the heat radiate off his body. Placing the flower onto your lap you turn to look at him, taking in his appearance. You had asked something of Aemond, something one would ask of a low-life mercenary.

"Is it done?" Your kind and passive nature hind your true selfish intentions. Like most people, you desired power and influence, something that was only gained through wealth or the death of others. Unfortunately for others, you did own have large amounts of wealth. But what you had was something that could not be brought. Pure obsession and deviation from a prince that would watch the world burn if it meant you were happy.

"Of course," was his short reply, the smile on your face grew bigger hearing it was done. Your hand reaches out to hold his, though you remain facing and looking forward. The both of you could not be openly affectionate, but in the comfort of his room tonight you would visit him to thank him for what he had done.

[certifiedskywalker]

In the Eye of the Beholder - Aemond Targaryen

Compared to his elder brother, who abused the offerings on the Street of Silk, Aemond’s tastes have always been…tame. 

“Undress me.”

Wordlessly, you obeyed the Prince’s otherwise unprincely order, just as you had done the last time he patronized your establishment, and just as you had done the time before that too. As you moved about Aemond Targaryen, dragging your fingertips across his leather-clad shoulders, you tried to recall the first time he came to you. How many moonshines had passed since? How many royal marriages?

However long ago, you had since learned about his back.

Learned that, if you took your time undressing him and traced the slope of his form, starting from behind him, at the nape of his neck, and working around to the front of his chest, you could melt the dragon that stood before you. What a sight to see that was. Aemond would tremble, ever so slightly, but quickly still himself in a poor attempt at suppressing the shuddering. His eye would betray him though, as it fluttered close to savor that skin-racing, body-tingling pleasure. No longer could he hide from you. You saw him, and this time was no different. Under your fingers, Aemond’s chin tipped up and he struggled to keep his eye open as your touch stole away his last few shreds of cold stoicism. You reveled in his reaction, but your victory was short-lasting. When your hands found the first clasp of his tunic, Aemond returned to himself with a huff. At the sound, you met his gaze and saw his eye like an arrow aimed at you, his lips pursed into a thin smirk that broke only when he spoke.

“You do so enjoy taking your sweet time.”

“As do you, dare I say,” you countered, as you undid the latch nearest Aemond’s neck. “Though these sneaking, late hours of night do suit the second son, do they not?”

Your teasing question fell from your lips as you peeled the leather collar back, revealing the milky skin beneath. Aemond tensed beneath your fingers when they brushed idly against the column of his throat and you could not help but smile, all too pleased with yourself. The Prince, while also pleased, sharpened his gaze on you.

“I could have your tongue for addressing me in such a manner.”

“Then take it,” you challenged, undoing the second clasp. “You say you could take whatever you like and yet you take so little when with me.”

As you waited for Aemond to meet your challenge, your hands undid the last latch, the one above his trousers. Before you could progress to his belts, Aemond closed his hands around yours. His rough palms swallowed your softer touch with a warmth that shocked you still. “I want for little when with you,” he murmured, his fingers sliding along yours until they were interlaced. “I have told you as much.”

He had, in so many words, told you as much in visits past. More entitled and harsher in tone, but the same words. Though, this time, with this softness, you could not help but feel as if he meant something more by them. Yet, just as Aemond tried to, you attempted to still the pleased shudder that threatened to roll over your shoulders. 

“You have, but is it treason to have cajoled the Prince into saying it again?”

Aemond’s stone-serious expression morphed in the flickering warmth of candlelight. It was as if the shadows shaped the smile that spread along his lips, as if the sneaking, late hours of the night made this second son just for you. “Tis treason, indeed. I do not like to be tricked.” With his answer, Aemond pulled you closer by your joined hands. Your chest met his and you could feel the heat of his pale skin bleeding through your garments. Then, as Aemond fed his want for little, he brushed his nose against yours, making you shudder. No longer was this time like the first. Nor the second, nor the third; not even the last. This time was different. Aemond was different.

Through your trembling, you managed, “so you’ll lose me to the dungeons then?”

“Never,” his reply left breath tickling your skin, “I would keep you all to myself.”

“You keep me already, Aemond.”

At the sound of his name falling from your lips, the Prince’s face pressed to yours as a cat might careen into its owner’s hand to entreat more petting. Spurred on by the heat from his skin that set you ablaze, you answered his urging. You untangled your hand from his and, with fingers free, forced his tunic off in its entirety. Aemond stood before you, bare-chested and flushed. Desperate as the pink that rose across his skin, he leaned back in to close the new gap between your bodies.

The Aemond you met however many moonshines ago would have never kissed you, would have never touched you so. 

His lips found yours in a gnashing rush that had you dropping the tunic to the floor. Your hands reached up to cup Aemond’s face, to hold his jaw in a manner that would slow his wild necking. Ever the learner, he took the hint in your hands and slackened, his lips moving more deliberately against yours. His own hands found purchase on your waist and tugged you impossibly close.

When you parted for air, you took your chance and kissed his neck. Aemond gasped softly at the sensation of your lips on his skin and turned from you. You nearly chased after him, but Aemond’s voice brought through the haze of want that clouded your mind. “No, no further. I-” “You do not need to say anymore.” As you spoke, you reached a hand up to turn his face towards you. You saw, then, a young boy in the Prince’s stead. “I am not Aegon.” “You are not, my Prince.”

“My name.” His words hung between you, distracting you from how your reflection shone in the pupil of his eye. “Say my name.”

“Aemond,” you said, your tongue loving each syllable in the way other patrons would like their bodies to be. Not Aemond. Since that first time, moonshines ago, he was different. How privileged you were, to see that. “We need not do anything more than what we normally do. I forgot myself.”

“And I, me,” Aemond replied after a long breath. He held your gaze before he tipped his head to the side. “Shall we, then?”

Wordlessly, you intertwined your fingers with Aemond’s once more and led him over to the wide bed. Similar beds sat in every room in this establishment, in every establishment on the Street of Silk. Yet, like you and Aemond, this bed was different. 

It saw only your body and Aemond’s laid out, limbs entangled but unmoving. The Prince’s head rested on your chest, his arms wrapped about you, holding your frame against his. Like bricks of the Red Keep, you fit together, plush sheets filling in any silvers of space between you. This was all he ever asked for, all he ever wanted, as little as it was. Only this time, it felt like more.

“You did not finish undressing me,” Aemond said suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen over you both like a blanket. You turned slightly in his arms, looking down at him, but before you could ask what he meant, he reached one of his hands up towards his face. Aemond’s slender fingers tapped against the leather strap of his eye patch.

“Are you…” you trailed off as Aemond’s hand grasped at yours, leading it to the very spot he tapped. You let your fingers close around the leather, gently slipping it off his face. Before you dared to look at his face, you set the eyepatch in Aemond’s hand.

“You may look,” he said, evidently sensing your tensed muscles and not-so-wandering eyes. 

You did look, and you saw him as you always had: whole.

[wibblywobblytimieywimey]

Slagathor the great

Slagathor was a mostly normal man. He lived in the quaint village st. Catchpike. He had quite the appetite, everyday he ate 2 breakfasts, 3 lunches and 5 dinners. He loved food and he loved sharing food with his friends. His favorite food was grilled cheeze, but none of the local diners had any good ones! The ones he made at home were nothing like what he imagined the best grilled these to be. He wanted creamy, stretchy cheese with the perfect amount of the toast to the bread. So he set out on a mission to make the most wonderful grilled cheese ever. First he headed fo get the best cheese and bread so he walked to midoris supermarket and got every type of cheese. He paid the charger and headed home, hoping he had bread at home. He lazily walked around st.catch pole in no rush to get home. His quaint little town was busy the hussle and bustle of the day buzzed around slagsthor. He drilled down the cobbled path of the town saying "hello" and "good morning" to his neighbors. He stared at the bright blue sky. He saw thatched roofs and the dragons and magical beings around him. He lived right on the edge of town so his walk was long and relaxing. He thought about his perfect grilled cheese. Hi stomach growled, hungry from thinking about all this food. The path to his house ran out and his finally found himself at the front door of his home. His house was a round cobble stone hut with a thatched roof. Slagathor opened his door and went straight to the kitchen. He made a sandwich of every cheese he had. But none of them satisfied him. So he stared mixing. Swiss and Colby Jack. Spicy cheddar american and mozzarella. None of them were good enough. Slagathor spent the next two days slacking over making the perfect grilled cheese. His stomach was filling and so he invited his neighbor Garbanzo over to help him finish the sandwiches so nothing went to waste. Garbanzo was a large man and he had a black beard that looked like a bush and wore Tradisonal Viking atire like Slagathor. They worked together to find the perfect combo. Mixing and matching cheese and breads. Eliminating options. It was late in the evening, Slagathor was tired but determined mc he had tried everything he could think of. Suddenly it clicked. Slagathor had to mix all of the cheeses together! He ran to the stove and started grilling. Putting tiny parts of each cheese evenly on the bread. He waited two minutes flipping it so the bread was nice and toasty. He pulled it off the stove and put it on two plates. He walked back over to the table and sat down. Together garbanzo and Slagathor took the first bite. Both of their taste buds burst with cheesy goodness. It was perfectly gooey and the roasted bread made it perfect. So they sat in silence enjoying their sandwiches and Slagathor s life felt complete.

Sorry for any spelling errors I wrote this at like 3am.

[sullina]

Ol

K so with PLA the majority fo the story isn't important, just the final boss really, but a few of the characters are important. Are you familiar with Gen 5? The unova games? A major theme in PLA is time travel, the MC is a time traveler and there's one more time traveler there, a very popular character form the Gen 5 games. Subway Master/Subway Boss Ingo. Only... Ingo lost his memories. ToT is basically an au where the MC who everyone collectively agrees adopted Ingo and Irida the leader of the group who took Ingo in, go into his mind to try and restore his memories. It's a bit more complicated than that but it's the basic gist and the main thing I wanna point out is the setting fo Ingo's mindscape being a giant train station with mental projection of his twin brother, named Emmet, is acting as an antagonist/guide through the place. Just imagine how Straw's mindscape might look like

I'm not familiar with the Unova games at all, but I've seen enough on tumblr about Emmet and Ingo to know who they are XD

And thanks for the explanation^^ This really clears up a lot for me^^

I don't know how exactly Straws mindscape would look like, but what's for certain is that the Boar Hat would be in there (or the mindscape would BE the Boar Hat) bc that's basically all he's ever known, since he lost his memories. And either there's like secret passages or something in the mindscape Boar Hat or outside of the Boar Hat would be a landscape that changes the further away one goes from the bar and very very far away there would be the place where him and Zeldris used to hunt dragons, like it was in Zels mindscape when the DK took over his body.

And like in the Owl House, there might be some kind of Inner Meliodas, except that he's more like some kind of black mist/monster and can't take a proper form due to the memories that are required for him to take form aren't accessible because of the amnesia.

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

DESTINY IS A FUNNY THING

Warnings: Blood/Gore. Wounds.

Pairing: Zuko x firebender!fem!Reader

Characters: Zuko, Uncle Iroh, Jet, Avatar Aang (mentioned)

Requested: No.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: You’re trying to find some food for the Team, when you encounter a furious Freedom Fighter.

It was a quiet evening as you strolled through the streets of Ba Sing Se.

You'd joined Team Avatar only a few weeks ago, doing your best to integrate yourself into their group. Which, other than helping the Avatar, also meant cooking, cleaning and finding food. You were tasked with the latter. The gaang hadn't been able to visit the market earlier, due to searching for someone who could produce posters, hoping to get any tips on the whereabouts of Appa. So now, with the money Toph had collected on her hunts, you were searching for something to fill your stomachs. You hadn't eaten all day.

Most shops were already closed by this time The only house that still had the lights on in this part of town, seemed to be a small restaurant. You tried to read the menu that was hung up next to the entrance, but the paper was so crinkled and the letters so washed out that you couldn't quite decipher what it said. You sighed. Some light would be really useful right now. There was only one solution.

You looked around warily, checking the streets five times, before you produced a tiny flame in your palm, reading over every offer as quick as possible. The fire disappeared when you were through. Unsure you counted the money in your pocket, biting your bottom lip. The prices were pretty high. Almost too high. You'd have nearly nothing left if you purchased your food here. You mulled over it for a few minutes, not realizing that someone had stepped up behind you.

"What do we have here?" You jumped, turning around quickly and coming face to face with a broad chest. Looking up, black eyes stared back at you. The boys face was narrow, framed by a mop of brown hair, and a blade of wheat grass hanged out of his mouth. "What do you want from me?" You asked, stepping back, until your back was pressed into the wall behind you. "You're one of them," he said, wielding a hooked sword in both of his hands. "You're one of those fire benders!" He lashed out, the hook grazing your skin as you tried to roll out of their range. "Ugh!" You groaned at the sight of a nasty slash in your shoulder. Yes, you were from the Fire Nation, and yes, you were able to bend fire, but you had never experienced that much training in combat. You knew how to defend yourself properly, yet you didn't succumb to the illusion that you were an exceptionally good fighter. You really just tried not to get your face cut off. And to your despair, this young man seemed to be especially good at what he was doing.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" You said, trying to talk your way out of it. He chuckled. "Nice try. But I saw you use your powers," he answered with a growl, hunting you mercilessly. So you did the only thing you could to survive. Run. You had no weapons, but yourself. And you couldn't use your fire once again. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest as your lungs started to burn. He didn't slow down even when you made it to a more crowded part of town, pushing people out of his way to get to you, and screaming at them to hold you off. You tried to get as many obstacles as possible between you and him. But his legs were longer than yours, making it easy to catch up with you. A small tea shop ahead of you caught your eye, seeming lively inside.

You'd almost reached the door.

Almost made it.

Then you felt the tips of two sharp hooks slash trough your back, ripping the skin. A toe curling scream left your mouth. Dizzy, you stumbled out of reach again as best as you could. All eyes were on you, when you tumbled trough the door of the shop. "I'm sorry," you mumbled, dots clouding your sight. "I didn't know where else to go," Your knees gave out, blood slowly trickling out of your wounds. "They're fire benders!" Was the last thing that distantly reached your ears, together with the picture of an old man, leaning over you with a worried expression on his face. Then you were gone.

The next time you came anywhere near to conciousness again, you felt sick. You were lying on your stomach. Soft blankets and pillows were tucked under your body. And when you tried to move, you registered the texture of bandages on your shoulder and back. "Careful now," a soothing voice scolded softly. "Wouldn't want those wounds to open up again," A groan left your mouth when you finally managed to open your eyes. Once again, the face of an old man greeted you. The same old man. "Who are you?" you mumbled. "And where am I?" The man smiled, his friendly eyes glimmering in the sunlight. "My name is Mushi," he placed a small cup of tea next to you. "You're in our home. We brought you here after you collapsed in the tea shop, remember?" You nodded. Right. You remembered bits and pieces briefly, but you couldn't piece them all together. And then he came to mind. "Wha- what's with that guy, who-" "Don't worry about it," Mushi interrupted. "My nephew, Lee, took care of him. He's behind bars for now," You hummed, settling down a bit. It didn't take long before the others popped up in your mind.

You wondered if they were worried. If they cared. But you had to get back to them either way. "I have to get back to my..." you searched for the right word. "Family. I bet they're worried because I didn't come back last night," Mushi nodded, running a hand through his beard. "I understand," he stood up from your bedside, preparing another teapot as you sipped on your cup. It had just the right temperature and the rich jasmine flavor invaded your mouth. You smiled. "My favorite...," It was true. It really was your favorite. It reminded you of your home. Of quiet mornings spend with your grown ups, laughing at each others jokes. But those days were over. The war had claimed it all.

Mushi's light chuckle disturbed your thoughts. "It's my nephew's favorite as well," You hummed, staring down at the cup. “You know, you never told me your name,” He said, looking at you over his shoulder. “It’s (Y/N),” you stated, taking another sip and moving to sit up. “Thank you for taking care of me, Mushi. But i need to leave no- aargh!” You groaned loudly falling back onto your stomach. “Careful!” The door to your right opened. “What’s going on here?” A young man entered the room. He wore the simple clothes of a commoner, an apron loosely hanging from his arm. This must be Lee, you thought trying to stay still as the pain subsided. When you looked up at him, the first thing you were greeted by was the large burn around his eye, like flames woven into his skin. You flinched under his gaze. You couldn’t help but wonder if the scar had been from an encounter with a fire bender. Your Nation truly left it’s marks everywhere. “She’s still to weak to get up,” Mushi answered him, walking over to you. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here a little longer,” You sighed. This was a disaster.

You had to admit, this was definetely not how you had imagined your life to go, after joining the Avatar. You weren’t even around him for the next two weeks. The slash on your shoulder healed just fine and it didn’t bother you as much. Though your back was an entirely different story. You had to heavily rely on Mushi and Lee when it came to the wound. Bandaging or applying lotion to it was impossible without having someone to help. In the beginning Mushi was the one who primarily cared for you. Lee, on the other hand, didn’t bother to come near you. And why would he? You were just some strange girl that tumbled into a tea shop, covered in blood. The few times he did come in to get himself some tea, were spend in uncomfortable silence. At least on your behalf. Maybe he didn’t even care. Days went by without him even glancing at you, but one time he did. He directly stared at you to be more specific. “So, was he right?” he said, leaning against the counter behind him. “What?” you blurted out, confused that he bothered to speak with you. “The boy. Was he right? Are you a fire bender?” You swallowed heavily, lowering your gaze to his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous,” the lie didn’t leave your lips as smoothly as you hoped it would. “Of course not,” He narrowed his eyes. They're fire benders!, you faintly remembered the boy’s scream before you passed out. “What about you?” you retorted in the same demeanor. “Are you a fire bender?” Lee scoffed, reaching for two cups and filling them to the brim. “Of course not,” he imitated you, before handing you one of them. “Thank you,” you grinned, getting less tense around him. It earned you a short nod. That was the first time you two shared a real interaction.

The second time was more out of nessisity. Mushi was out at work for days, often taking no breaks, too caught up in his newest business. The Jasmine Dragon. Which left you at Lee’s mercy in the bandaging department. Luckily you were fit enough to sit up by now, crossing your legs, almost pain-free. Where silence was first unpleasant, it now had become a peaceful ritual for the both of you. Lee applied the lotion to your back, before you both worked to secure the bandage. You weren’t sure if he would talk to you, but you had a question burning in the back of your throat. “Lee?” He was clearly concentrated on the bandage, but you got some kind of acknowledgement. “Hm?” You nibbled on your bottom lip, unsure of how to phrase the words. “Have you ever felt... alone?” You’d joined Team Avatar, and yet you never felt more alone than before. “Like... not lonely but just-” “Yes,” he interfered and a few moments of silence passed. “I have. Sometimes i still do,” You played with your fingers in your lap, feeling him making a knot into the material to keep it together. “You know, i thought things would change,” you confessed. “I thought i’d found the right place. The right people. But now i realize that maybe i was wrong. Maybe it was all just a big mistake and i made the wrong choice once again,” you trailed off. “Does that make sense?” The question must’ve been written all over your face when you turned around. To your surprise he didn’t show the indifferent expression he wore around you all day. Now there was something more. Something softer. Sweeter. “It does, believe me. I know that feeling better than anyone,” His amber eyes seemed far away, lost somewhere between memories and dreams. Despite the nasty scar on his face, he was striking in his own way. Maybe particularily because of this scar. It showed his true spirit. Perhaps he was more of a fighter than he led on.

Over the following days, your healing made a promising progress. And so did your relationship with Lee. You’d never thought you’d feel affection for the boy, but here you were, sitting next to each other and sharing a platter of food. He hid an amazing sense of humor behind his shell and a gentle heart was buried under his armour. Another thing that had caught your attention was that Mushi seemed to leave for urgend business at the strangest of times, continuously leaving you by yourselves. But you choose not to think to much about it.

“You’ll get a stomach ache if you continue stuffing your mouth like that,” Right. What was it you found attractive about him again? “Shut up,” you laughed, pointing to his side of the plate. He had gobbled that dish up just as much as you did. ‘Guilty’ was written all over his forehead.

You focused your attention on the food, but looked back up when he was staring at you. You were surprised that he didn’t have a comeback. That was rare.

“Is everything okay? I’m sorry if that was-”

“Can i kiss you?” your eyes widened. “What?” your mouth was, once again, faster than your brain. Unfazed, Lee leaned in, waiting for you to do the same. Your lips met in the middle. Gently. Only brushing each other slightly, like a summer-breeze. He tasted bittersweet.

A few seconds passed until he placed his hands on your cheeks, carefully guiding the movements. He felt warm and safe. Like the pleasure of a close flame in the bitter cold. After a while, you reluctantly pulled apart, needing a few seconds to open your eyes. And when you did, you were filled with joy. Joy and regret. Your smile died on your lips as you remembered who you really where. “What’s wrong?” he said, pulling you into his side.

“I have to tell you something,” you started, furrowing your brows. You had to. Even at the risk that he would hate you afterwards. In time he had confided in you with some of his past, making you aware about his mark. He’d gotten it from a fire bender, just like you’d suspected. And it made you feel like a horrible person. So you took a deep breath. “I lied to you, Lee. I am a fire bender. I fled the Fire Nation because i wanted to start a new life,” You searched his face for a reaction, but it was empty. Just like it had been in the beginning. You held your breath when he finally opened his mouth to say something.

“I guess... i should tell you that i’m-” His Uncle burst into the room. “I have amazing news, everyone!” he exclaimed, a big smile gracing his face. “ We’ve been invited to serve tea to the Earth King!” Lee and you pulled apart, the atmosphere tense, but you both put on a grin for Mushi. “That’s amazing news, Uncle,”

And it was. You accompanied them the next day, knowing it would probably be the last you’d spend together. Your wounds were healed enough to walk again and didn’t affect your movements anymore. Which meant you would leave to go back to your family. Or... more like your companions. But honestly, you didn’t even know if you could call them that. You hadn’t been part of their group for long before you disappeared and you hadn’t heard from each other since.

Not to mention that, deep in your heart you knew, you didn’t really want to leave. The burden hung heavy over your head, but you choose to make this last day worth it. And if it was just to see a smile on Mushi’s face. “Many times i imagined myself here. At the threshold of the palace,” the man stated, as you climbed out of your carriage. “We are the Earth King’s personal guests, here to serve him tea. Destiny is a funny thing,” he rambled on, but you and Lee gladly listened. “It sure is, Uncle,” The atmosphere between the two of you remained awkward after you’d revealed your secret, but he didn’t seem to be averse. He still talked to you. The problem was that he wanted to talk about anything but your confession. Any time you came close to bringing it up, he bailed. And you wanted to know why.

It took a while until you reached the room where the Earth King would welcome you. Or rather, welcome them. You choose to stay outside. “Don’t be ridiculous, (Y/N),” Mushi had said. “Of course you’re coming with us,” But you had declined with a shake of your head. “It’s your tea shop. You and Lee did all the work. You deserve to share this moment together,” He seemed to want to argue against your choice, but eventually he accepted it. “Very well,” You watched as he disappeared into the room, behind his nephew.

The guards led you through the empty halls, supposed to bring you to a waiting room. But you’d never reach it. You grunted, as you got hid on the back of your head, the impact sending you to the ground, as your vision blurred... and faded.

thanks for reading! find part 2 here!

[themonotonysyndrome]

Dont know who your FO's are so chose whoever you really want to talk about!

🛋, 🍪, 🖊, 🐉, 🎲

- @wegotaselfshipperere

Hey Ally! Thank you so much for this ask!

In terms of FO, I'd go with Vincent~

🛋 How do you spend time together? Are you the couple who sits in the same room, not talking and just enjoying each other's company, or do you two go off and have dates/adventures a lot?

Food dates! I love to eat and I'd definitely bring Vincent out on food-related dates. New restaurant just open up? Vincent, honey! We're going on a dinner date tonight! A carnival is in town? Vincent! Wanna try some fair food!?

Also, quiet time would be a thing between us. I'll just be writing fics in the living room while Vincent watches Netflix or something. Not saying anything to each other but is happy because the other is nearby.

🍪 You tried to make a sweet surprise for you and your F/O, but something happened and now the cookies are alive!!! They've taken over the kitchen and are starting to push into the rest of the house! How do you and your F/O stop them?

Ok, how I imagine this going down is that Vincent has been doing really well in his classes at D.A.M.N so I wanna surprise him. Even when I absolutely have zero cooking skills. But cookies sound easy enough to bake right?

Wrong.

I'd blame it on Magic when Vincent comes home and sees me battling a giant sentient cookie with a broom and a prayer. So now we have an issue. Vincent can't use his Vampiric abilities here (I tried asking him to Trance the cookie but he just gave me a look, lol) so we ended up burning it with a makeshift flamethrower made from a lighter and his hair spray.

It works!

🖊 If your F/O were to start a collection of things, what would they horde? What would be their most prized possession? (Besides you, obviously)

Vincent has tons of cars so I guess he collects them? I personally don't like driving though.

His most beloved car is probably an old, yet classic sports car. Told him that I don't understand any of his car talks and would be happy just driving around a clown car.

As revenge, he makes me drive his cars to our dates.

🐉 Your F/O gets turned into a dragon through hijynx. What type of dragon are they? What powers do they have?

Ooooh, Vincent would look like those classic Western dragons. A huge black dragon with beautiful golden eyes. It'll be cool if he's like a Vampiric dragon.

I'm more concerned about how he ended up a dragon. Like Vincent, how are we gonna turn your back!? What am I gonna say to Will!?

🎲 You guys are setting up a campaign in DnD, what class/race do you play? What about your F/O? Who is more likely to be the dungeon master?

I don't actually play DnD so uh, I have no idea how to answer this question, I'm so sorry!!

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Winter Whumperland Day 3: Caught

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 3. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 2 'Alone'. All alone in the middle of a forest covered by snow, Hiccup makes his escape during a trip. But what has lead up to this?

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Viggo, Ryker

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 376

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Escape in the Snow”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: From this point on, it's going to be confusing as events will not be told in order just because of the order of the prompts. At least from Day 3 through 7. I've never done anything like this before either, so this was an interesting project to work on.

Anyway constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

@amonthofwhump

Ao3

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The Grimborn Empire is a company that focuses mostly on export and import. They have centers where trucks load and unload their wares and they have ships and containers to bring those wares to other countries overseas. There are many, many employees working under the Grimborn name.

But the headquarters, so to speak, is a tall building that stands in the city of New New Berk and that is where Viggo works.

His office is on the top floor and overlooking the city. Though quite sparse, the interior is as fancy as one would imagine and screams CEO. At the desk Viggo usually sits, his back facing the large, thick windows that make up the wall behind him.

At the moment, however, he's facing one and stands there as a slow afternoon passes. Hands clasped behind him, he watches the traffic down below.

With no work needing to be done, he's waiting for a meeting that is supposed to start in another hour or so. He has a particular disdain for waiting and doing nothing, he's just wasting precious time that could be spent on something useful.

If it wasn't so short, he would've used it alright. He would've gone by the house and see how his little pet project is doing, but alas!

So instead he has to think smaller and ponder if he should tell his assistant to grab him a coffee. He would go down to the local coffee shop he used to frequent, but the one barista he liked in that establishment is no longer working there. So he doesn't see the point in going himself.

Turning away from the view, Viggo decides that's what he's going to do. He approaches his desk with the intention to press a button on his phone to call his assistant in. She should come stumbling in seconds later like a hen without her head, rightfully in a hurry if she wants to keep her job.

But it's as he leans forward, index finger hovering over the little button of doom that she so dreads to have him use, that something on his computer screen draws his attention.

An alert? Of what? And how long has that been there?

It's a little black popup on the bottom right and it's barely noticeable. It certainly hasn't drawn his attention.

With urgency does he pull his expensive leather desk chair back. Viggo takes a seat and rolls back in, taking the mouse and clicking on it.

It appears to him that someone is on his home computer. That in itself wouldn't necessarily send an alert to his device at work, but when someone enters a certain password to gain access to a place they aren't supposed to be in, well, then Viggo likes to know who.

There is no one in the office but him, so he feels safe enough to open up an app and a different window pops up. This one allows him to see who's using his home computer. It takes him a little while to find the right one, but he finds it.

When he sees it's Hiccup, he's somehow not surprised.

A deep scowl appears on his face and Viggo growls. This isn't the first time he's caught Hiccup breaking a rule behind his back, but this is one of the worst he could've broken. That boy never learns.

How long has he been searching through his stuff? He wishes that alert came with a timestamp or something to help him see it. He isn't a tech genius, that's for sure. And does Hiccup even know what he's looking at?

He looks much too focussed, eyes quickly moving across the screen with the speed you'd expect from someone with his brain. Viggo would've been enamored if he wasn't so alarmed.

But then he's torn out of his thoughts as he sees Hiccup visibly react to something he must've found. His reaction is terrible as he visibly reels from something Viggo cannot see.

He doesn't know what it is that Hiccup's found, the feed has no sound either, but Viggo can see him quickly unravel on screen and it's a joy to see.

The quick jerk of the chair backward, the disbelief, the tears in his eyes, the telltale shaking of his shoulders as he begins to sob, following by his hand covering his mouth and then his face he folds in on himself.

It's all on-screen and that means Viggo can see him sink further and further in his breakdown.

All he does is hum thoughtfully.

"I have to say, Hiccup, whatever you must be looking at, I think you deserve it."

However, this does present him with a big problem. Hiccup isn't a fool and Viggo won't be able to tell what he's found, what he's been looking at. He doesn't have a good view of how well Hiccup is with electronics either, though that he's made it this far is certainly telling.

This is troubling. And worse is, he'll have to tell Ryker and he'll be expected to make his final decision about the boy. Because it's been much too long already and Hiccup still hasn't learned his place.

Viggo sighs in agitation and leans back in his chair, gaze still on the screen.

"Well, well, well, you've been especially troublesome, my Dear Hiccup. But now you've really forced my hand."

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

"A trip?" Hiccup cautiously asks, looking up at Viggo from his seat at the table.

There's a brochure that's been shoved into his hands. It looks like it's somewhere far away from where they live now, far away from civilization as a whole. It's of a place in the mountains, somewhere snowy. Clearly the perfect place to go when someone has a stump for a leg.

With how isolated it is, he'll still be stuck with just Viggo and Ryker. They might be counting on his leg to keep him inside and that Hiccup will know better than to wander through the woods in the freezing cold.

"Yes, a trip. It's the 20th, that means the holidays are fast approaching and I desire a break from work." Viggo tells him and Hiccup almost dares to raise an eyebrow.

Viggo? A break from work? Yeah, when pigs fly.

This just makes this whole sudden trip all the more suspicious, however. Here's the thing, this brochure isn't promoting some lodge or a resort or anything one would go to for a holiday getaway. It's one made of a fishing town by the name of Newport, using its beautiful sights as a way to lure people in.

This isn't the kind of place most people would go to when they think "vacation" and certainly not Viggo Grimborn. So what is the true purpose of this?

Maybe he should ask something first.

"So what'll happen to me?" Hiccup asks, assuming that he won't be left behind to starve.

He could order takeout, though. Make a quick getaway with the pizza courier, but that's the kind of stuff that will only happen in comedy movies. He wishes he can watch one again someday.

Hiccup wants to chuckle, but he chokes his amusement.

"You'll come along, of course. I realize you haven't been outside much," At that Hiccup can't help but give Viggo a glare. It's one that says 'you mean not at all?' But when he returns it just as strong in warning, Hiccup has to do his part and avert his gaze.

His jaw is still blue from the other day and his hand still painful and blistered from the boiling water that ended up spilling in that confrontation.

"What I was trying to tell you is that we both need new surroundings and this way I can spend more time with you." Viggo continues and Hiccup feels like what he's spouting is bull. Ryker is rolling his eyes in the background so loudly they can almost hear it.

Whenever Viggo is home, Hiccup is either one of two things; Completely neglected or clung to constantly, like he has a needy child that won't leave him alone. There is no in-between and it was particularly bad in the beginning three months of his stay.

"What happens to..." Hiccup hesitates, trying to find the right word to use. "The family cat?"

He hopes his choice of words will bring the cat in question some favor. The cat is a two-month-old kitten, one Viggo bought him as a gift when she was a month old.

Well, as a gift and as leverage.

"She'll go someplace where they can take care of her, don't worry," Viggo answers before he downs his drink. If he didn't know any better, Hiccup wouldn't have worried when he told him not to.

Hiccup looks back down at the brochure, brows knitting together in worry.

There is not one part of this that isn't suspicious and he fears what he may find on this "trip".

No, wait. Maybe this isn't as bad as he thinks.

"I... look forward to it." Hiccup tells him without a smile or anything that could possibly be mistaken for enthusiasm. He couldn't fake it even if he tried.

Viggo is displeased with this, but at least he doesn't see this as an excuse to 'discipline' him.

"We're leaving tomorrow morning. Get started on dinner and pack after." He orders him and leaves, walking away from the table.

Hiccup watches him go before his eyes move to the text on the brochure.

This trip might not be such a bad thing. Because even though he'll be spending even more time with his abusers, leaving the premise means the invisible fences keeping him in will be down. The plan he's been working on to get help from the outside is going to be ruined, but maybe that's not so bad. Maybe it's not even necessary and he can finally see an opportunity to escape.

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If you're as rich as Viggo Grimborn, chances are that you don't take any of the conventional means of travel.

Why take a public flight if you can use your personal boat to make the trip there? And unlike with a car, you don't need to stop at a restroom for gas, food, drinks, or a restroom.

And since the brothers are aware of his mother's dragon sanctuary and his affinity for dragons, the last thing they want is to energize him by putting him on a plane and bringing him the closest to flying that he's been since they picked him off the street that faithful night.

The joke's on them, however. The breeze blowing along the shore is enough to give him that high.

That's the thing with keeping someone like him confined to the house. The smallest gust of wind will invigorate him, the feeling the Grimborn Brothers wanted to suppress most.

Hiccup is leaning over the side of the boat, knees on some leather seats, trying to catch as much of the wind as he can. It combing through his hair feels like heaven to him and it's like it's telling him that it's missed him.

Viggo scowls deeply at the display.

"You know, if you want him to stop enjoying himself so much, you should tell him why we're really here," Ryker advises his younger brother from the steering wheel.

Viggo would tell him to keep his eye on where they're headed, but instead, he looks thoughtful.

They've already left, Hiccup can do no harm here. What's the worst he can do? Throw himself overboard and make things easier for them?

Besides, he doesn't have the heart to hurt someone, the cat has proven how soft he is. While packing, Viggo had to resort to smacking him just to quieten his endless questions about the place they were sending her to while they were away.

Frighteningly enough, a yet unbroken spirit caused Hiccup to glare back at him, Viggo remembers the look well. If it could kill, he'd be dead.

After everything that's been done to him, that will to fight that he's been carefully ripping out of him piece by piece is still there. The boy bounces back quickly, a concerning thing.

But cracks have formed, cracks that made him not lash back out after that smack.

They're almost there, they've almost broken him. That's why this getaway is so important.

So Viggo approaches.

"Henry." Hiccup is torn out of his thoughts of his Bud by a name that isn't his and he tenses up immensely.

It's a cover name because unusual names like his tend to be more memorable than one as simple and common as that.

For as much trouble as his birth name has given him growing up, he prefers it greatly over whatever name Viggo has given him.

Plus, he knows it's just another method. He's changed his clothing, his eating habits, everything down to what brand he brushes his teeth and washes his hair with. So what is a name change?

"... Yes?" Still Hiccup responds, not feeling like getting hit again. The bruise on his jaw is still far from fading and there are many more beneath his clothes. His ribs hurt when he breathes too deeply. Just bruised, most likely.

But he must've not responded in the correct tone, with the correct face, or maybe he just took too long. Because he's smacked on the back of his head for whatever he's done this time. He'd flinched before it came and anger is what remains. All he knows is anger and fear and shame.

He can't remember what joy feels like.

All those negative emotions swirl inside and he has to swallow them, lest he be hurt worse and mysteriously break his wrist again. He flexes his hand on memory.

Look a certain way, sound a certain way, move a certain way, do this, do that, what Viggo wants is an obedient robot. A robot with very specific qualities and functions.

"Sit down." Viggo orders him and Hiccup listens, taking his knees off the seat and sitting down. He smooths his expression as best as he can while the older man comes down next to him.

He wants to take his hand, intertwine their fingers, but Hiccup draws his hand back. Viggo insists, taking hold and squeezing tight enough to hurt.

If he had a wish for pain, he would've squeezed back. He knows it's a game he sometimes used to do with Astrid.

And Snotlout, but that was more arm wrestling, he loves doing those. Hiccup is usually victorious in those and Snotlout is usually left with the bad taste of defeat.

Once in a while, however, he'd let him win. It always felt so good to see him smile, hear him holler in joy, watch him throw his fists in the air. That was always followed up by gloating and the flexing of his muscles, which consistently almost made Hiccup regret letting him win.

Gods, he almost forgot he used to do that. Sometimes he almost forgets he had friends at all.

Sometimes it feels good not to remember what you used to have.

"Henry!" Viggo calls him out his pleasant memories, the occasional reprieve, and tightens his grip some more.

It hurts because he's holding his left hand, which is the one covered in bandages. He can feel the burning pressure in those blisters grow.

So Hiccup quickly figures this isn't something he can win and submits quickly, loosening his hold and looking down.

In return, Viggo's hold on his hand lightens, too.

"So, Henry, you've been troublesome."

"Have I?" It's a genuine question, but it must've come out too sarcastic for Viggo's taste. A third strike and he'll be looking at another punishment.

The only reason he's so lenient now is that someone might catch them.

When he first arrived, a mere painful squeeze wasn't all it took to shut him up.

Maybe he's wrong. Maybe there was a bit of a Viking in him, too. Was, because he's very aware of how obedient he's been. He barely meets Viggo's eyes as of late, certainly not when he doesn't have permission. He hates that he can't.

"You've been troublesome." He repeats and watches for a reaction.

There isn't one, Hiccup's gaze is still downcast and that pleases him.

What he can't tell is the way his brows have furrowed. Is it anger again? Pain? Perhaps it's a mix of both. Let's just throw another pinch of shame in there as well.

"We've tried many things to make you fall in line," By trying to abuse the disobedience out of him, but Hiccup can't say that. "But you remain too stubborn. That is why we're going on this trip. This is meant as a way to finally persuade you."

"And you thought a nice trip up the mountains after everything you two have done would miraculously make me fall head over heels in love with you?" Hiccup mutters quietly under his breath, hoping he isn't heard too much.

"I'm warning you, Henry, this is your last chance." There is that name for the third time, but all Hiccup can focus on is the choice of wording.

His eyes are widened with alarm.

"Wait, what do you mean by 'last chance'? Last chance before what?" He asks. Nothing is ever just an accident with this man, that has to be on purpose and Hiccup wants to know why.

There's a beat of silence before Viggo answers, apparently wanting Hiccup to wallow in it.

"I know you've been messing with my computer. You believed I wouldn't find out, but the cameras on my property aren't just on the outside." Viggo explains and Hiccup stares at him with growing realization, caught redhanded.

"The bookcase you pick books from without permission, the bathroom while you shower, the living room where you watch your documentaries and tasteless movies, there are hidden cameras all over the house. Including on my personal computer." He continues to add and panic is about to erupt with Hiccup.

So he's been keeping watch on him from work all this time? But Viggo never punished him for breaking the rules when he wasn't home.

No leaving the house, which he never could anyway. No unauthorized snacking or drinking, not that there is anything to snack on in that house. He knows about Ryker's personal stash, but he's only stolen from there once and that wasn't without consequences. No entertainment and finish your chores, not even the books belonging to his keeper or the tv were allowed to be touched.

Those are only the rules he can count at the top of his head and Hiccup broke so many more then those. Sometimes the second Viggo left. So if there really are cameras all over the house keeping watch over him, why did he never show any knowledge of his childish rulebreaking?

His panic makes him forego the role of obedient little love.

"No, that's a lie! There are no cameras, you're just trying to get under my skin!" Hiccup shoots up, tearing his hand back. It hurts, but he cares little.

"Don't raise your voice at me, Henr-"

"Oh, stop it with that stupid name! It's Hiccup! I'm not letting you get-" While it is Hiccup who first cuts Viggo off, the latter is swift to return the favor.

He rises and backhands him with one seamless motion. Both for speaking out of turn and raising his voice. The ring on his finger cuts into his cheek.

Hiccup comes to glare at him, now silent as he holds it. He wants so badly to hit back, but knows that he can't.

He did try it once.

Once.

He sits back down and slumps forward in defeat.

"Did you honestly believe I would allow you to roam freely in my home without eyes and ears on you at all times?" The ears part is a lie, but Hiccup doesn't need to know that. Besides, Viggo feels satisfied with that look of alarm appearing on his face.

"Henry, I chose you because you were smart. Is that a lie? If it isn't, can you figure out the rest?" He asks and then leaves in a foul mood.

But yes, Hiccup can and he does.

He's telling the truth. And Viggo wouldn't be telling him all of this, disclosing the fact that he's been secretly watching him through hidden eyes all over his home, without reason him. Clearly, he's been keeping that fact to himself to reveal later when it would be of some significance and today is apparently that day.

This is Hiccup's "last chance" to fall in line. The sudden disclosure of secrets, the unexpected trip to somewhere cold and remote, putting his cat in a regular shelter for 'safekeeping' instead of one of those fancy hotels Viggo definitely has the money for...

His last chance...

If Hiccup doesn't fully submit to Viggo by the end of this trip instead of only half-submitting when he has no other choice, they're going to...

His hand falls limp to his lap, overcome with shock.

The fear has always been there. He's seen them on the news, missing persons that ended up found, but in a grave instead of alive.

If he doesn't become what they've taken him to be, they're going to kill him.

From his position at the steering wheel, having watched it all go down, Ryker smirks in delight.

"He's figured it out."

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It's not like Hiccup is surprised to learn that his situation could end this way.

When he was first abducted, woken up in a bare dimly lit room, he'd once wondered if he was the first one or if there'd been others before him. People who'd mysteriously gone missing, went through the same stuff he has, and were never found. Not alive, at least.

But to think that, that day has already arrived...

No, he shouldn't be surprised. The very fact that plenty of people have had less, much less, time than he was given, people who were taken from the streets only to end up dead the very next day, makes Hiccup feel very lucky.

But should he still worry about his fate? He's finally made his escape and he's far away from the cabin now.

They arrived not even two days ago and settled into what was supposed to be home for the next two weeks. Funny, Hiccup hasn't been home for months.

His careful planning has been all for naught. In the end, he had to work on pure impulse to get him out of trouble.

He shouldn't be proud of it and he probably won't be. There was a reason for all that planning, all that waiting and enduring. He's sure he'll regret it later, whether he manages to get away from Viggo or not.

Hiccup supposes that matters little now. He's out here, wandering through a forest covered in a layer of snow that's at least a foot thick. He's not dressed properly for the cold, wearing just a hoodie and jeans, and he's not in perfect condition either. On top of the bruises and the hand, he's gotten injured in those two days.

His upper back burns and it's been burning since their first evening in the mountains. The horrible memory attached to it wants to break free and be a hindrance in his escape. Trudging through the snow and trembling awfully, he tries not to let it.

Besides his head is pounding. He doesn't know why that is as he doesn't know exactly what happened, what knocked him out. He just knows that he blacked out and woke up with an aching head.

An aching head, a burning back, and a foot in agony. He'd dropped something on it in the confrontation that lead to his escape. Now he's using a shovel to help him limp through the trees, a shovel of which the spade has blood on it.

A lot has happened in two days. A lot. There's something he has done that he can never atone for.

His last chance has passed.

It's dark out, too, making this trip through the woods ten times harder than it already is. It's pure agony to use his broken foot, but he has no other choice but to since his left his a fake.

He can feel the pain radiating up his leg through his ankle. He's had to stop several times just to take a breather, the used air from his lungs leaving in white puffs. But each time, his will to escape triumphs over his pain and he continues to drag his way forward. Bit by bit, step by step, giving up is not an option.

And yet, there's the threat of panic erupting and stopping him. Having a stubborn will is good and all, but it's useless if he doesn't get out of here.

Sure, he got away from Viggo, but he has no idea where he's going now. His hope is to find a road or the town they docked at, but he could be heading deeper into the forest for all he knows.

If he is, then what? Will he never see his friends again? Will his parents be able to move on, will they ever have closure? Will Toothless ever be up in the air again?

Hiccup's arduous limping comes to a halt and he slowly turns to look behind him. It's only because of how strongly pure white snow contrasts against the blue-ish black of the night that he can see the trail he's left behind. If Viggo is searching for him, it won't be hard to find him.

He's shivering, clinging to the shovel that's a clumsy crutch at best, and looks at the way ahead of him. He doesn't feel hopeful, he doesn't know what exactly he feels. Nothing besides pain and a possibly very foolish drive forwards.

Whether the cold lulls him into a false sleep during his endless wandering or Viggo puts an end to his life himself, this forest will be his grave if he doesn't find his way out.

For better or for worse, it's a big enough reason to keep on pushing through the pain and keep going onwards.

[i-dream-of-twilight-sparkle]

Chapter 25: Starlight’s Mother, Part 1 - Who Was She?

The Elements of Harmony and the CMC are on their way to town to search for Starlight. While there, they walk by Trixie’s wagon. Trixie opens up the side and sees the group walking by.

Trixie: Heeeeeeeeey! Twilight and Friends!

The group stops and turns toward Trixie who’s waving to them, they decide to go see her in case maybe Trixie knows where Starlight is.

Twilight: Hi Trixie! Good to see you.

Trixie: Same to all of you, did you enjoy Trixie’s performance last night?

Trixie grins smugly, hoping for some more praise

Sweetie: That was pretty cool how you got yourself and Starlight to fit into that lamp without being a genie. And your horn didn’t even glow! I can’t even imagine how that worked out...

Scootaloo: Maybe there was a secret escape under the bottom of the lamp?

Apple Bloom: But even then, Trixie would o’ still had t’ squeeze her and Starlight though such ah tight space!

Scootaloo: True, but didn’t Big Mac once accidentally squish you so hard you went down the berry squish drain during the Sisterhooves Social?

Apple Bloom: Well yeah… though this was certainly still ah different method then the sheer force o’ weight…

Sweetie: Are we more liquid then we thought?

The CMC continue to ponder more on how Trixie did what she did. While the rest giggle knowing it was just something Trixie wished for from Twilight’s genie magic.

Twilight: You had a good show, Trixie. Though while we’re stopping by, I don’t suppose you know where Starlight is right now? I know you told me last night that Starlight wanted to see me when I was available today.

Trixie: Well... coincidentally she’s probably looking for you right now! I think she headed to Saddle Arabia using the portal gum expecting you to be back at the palace.

Twilight: Uh oh, I don’t know if I should go to Saddle Arabia in case she happens to gum portal back to town, and we just end up traveling in circles. I feel like she’ll come across Princess Celestia, Malakhar, Kubuya, or the Sultan. She’ll ask them where I am and they’ll say I’m likely at…

Twilight widens eyes briefly

Twilight: Sweet… Apple… Acres… Oh no! We better go back… We should of just stayed at the farm!

Trixie: Oh Twilight, is it ok if I come with?

Twilight: Of course, Trixie! Come with us!

Trixie opens the exit of her wagon and starts galloping along with the group back to Sweet Apple Acres. They quickly get back to the gates of the farm, but then they hear a scream.

Twilight: That sounds like Starlight! Come on, she might be in trouble!

They get closer to the farm house before they hear Starlight’s voice again

Starlight: APPPPLLLLLEEEEEEJAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCKKKKK!

Starlight is then seen running from the other side of the house straight to the other side where the Elements, the CMC, and Trixie are. Starlight heads straight over to Applejack. She’s shaking, and terrified.

Applejack: Starlight, what’s wrong?!

Starlight: Applejack! I think your house is haunted!

Applejack: Haunted?! What do ya mean?

Starlight: You’re probably going to think I went insane… but when I got here looking for Twilight after Princess Celestia informed me at the palace that she’d likely be here… I came by the backdoor of your house and peeked into the windows… and I saw these transparent, glowing ghosts of your parents!

Applejack chuckles as she’s aware that this would have made her an emotional wreck just hours ago, and also expresses relief that Starlight is ok. 

Applejack: Oh? Is that all? Ya’ll had me worried fo’ ah moment!

Starlight goes wide-eyed, she thought Applejack was going to be surprised that somepony has seen ghosts of her parents.

Starlight: WHAT?! How can you respond like this isn’t a big deal?!

Applejack: Well… ah mean… it would o’ been ah big deal just ah few hours ago… and it even took ah little while t’ convince me even after they appeared… But Twilight and Spike summoned mah parents’ spirits using Spike’s Dragon Tear. It’s capable o’ bringing down the deceased souls all the way down from space!

Starlight flails her hooves as she looks absolutely incredulous

Starlight: Since when could it do that?! Since when have we found out the dead go to space?!

Twilight: Ohohoho… Believe me, Starlight… it has been an absolutely crazy day…

Twilight and the others proceed to recap to Starlight what they talked about around Pear Butter and Bright Mac’s spirits. Starlight just holding her fore hooves on the sides of her head hearing everything that’s been learned in just the past few hours.

Starlight: So let me get this straight… we can bring back the dead as spirits with the Dragon’s Tear… the sun and moon wouldn’t be able to move without our magic… plus our planet doesn’t rotate… the souls of the deceased join some big shield invisible to us orbiting around our planet and moon… said souls protect us from outside threats in space… Life is magic… Genies and thus Twilight is at least PART spirit… and the planet is alive?!

The rest of the group nods, though Trixie herself is also kind of freaking out since she hasn’t heard all this either.

Trixie: And all of you are taking this calmly like it’s already some common knowledge?!

Twilight: Oh we freaked out alright. We just kind of already got most of it out of the way. It’s still kind of all swirling in my head to be honest… *Twilight spins her eyes*

Starlight: This is just insane… the fact that Applejack is calm during this means it is true… she’s the element of Honesty. She couldn’t lie, or at the very least… wouldn’t be able to hold a straight face very easily if any of this was not real…

Applejack: Like ah said, it did take some time fo’ me t’ acknowledge much o’ this as the truth. But considering just moments before ah was told all this, mah parent’s spirits were summoned… there’s just about no way ah could really object. It’d have t’ be one heck o’ ah conspiracy t’ say both ponies that are living AND dead have conspired together including mah own parents t’ peddle ah lie… especially since there’s really only been one time before all this that ah Dragon’s Tear has brought spirits down. And that was ah long time ago when Jinn was still around…

Starlight: Just let me take some deep breaths, then I can finally be calm and proceed to tell you what I wanted to see you about.

Starlight takes a few moments to do a breathing exercise as all the things she was just told swirl in her head. She still kinda shakes a little or her ear twitches thinking about all the crazy but true facts about their world as well as life and death. But eventually, she gets back to a relatively normal state with a determined look on her face.

Starlight: Ok… Twilight… it’s time.

Twilight walks on over to the front of Starlight with a determined look of her own.

Twilight: Yes, it is…

Starlight / Twilight: Please, help me find my mother! / I’m gonna help you find your mother!

Starlight & Twilight: Wait… How did you know?!

Starlight / Twilight: Applejack must of told you! / Applejack told me!

Starlight & Twilight: Maybe we should stop talking simultaneously?

The two giggle a little bit before ultimately the subject matter of finding Starlight’s mother puts a rather heavy air around the area.

Twilight: Before we go to try finding your mother. Is it alright if we get an explanation from you? I know you’ve already told the CMC, at least a big part of it considering you’ve told them how you got your Cutie Mark. We’ve already got the gist from Applejack that you don’t know who your mother is, and your father refuses to tell you. Maybe start with… why haven’t you shared this years ago?

Starlight lowers her head solemnly

Starlight: I guess… it just never occurred to me to bring it up at the time…

Applejack: It’s ok Starlight, after all… Twilight went almost 2 years without telling us she had ah brother that she loves so much. *winks*

Twilight smiles sheepishly, putting a hoof behind your back

Twilight: Well… you girls never asked!

But er… ahem… how about we get the little that you do know about your mother?

Starlight: There’s only a few facts I know. One of which I just learned recently, thanks to the Cutie Mark Crusaders

Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo all beam a grin.

Starlight: Just to narrow it down so not too many questions are asked. My father actually doesn’t know what happened to her after she disappeared either, he really only just refuses to tell me her name. Because otherwise he’s just as much in the dark as I am, the birth certificates in Sire’s Hollow conveniently leave off Parent’s names, and this wasn’t a case where she died from complications of childbirth. She gave birth to me in my old home rather then a hospital, but she survived my birth for certain. And even if she had died from child birth, then my father would of most certainly known.

And the only other big fact I know is something the Cutie Mark Crusaders already know...

Twilight: I did overhear Apple Bloom mention that you told them how you got your mark, and that your mother might be related somehow. I suppose that’s a good time as any for you to finally tell us, too?

The other elements pay really close attention as they themselves have always been curious about how Staright got her mark.

Starlight: Certainly, I also gave a little bit of the gist of it to Applejack at the ball. But I’ll certainly provide at least a little more detail then the summary I gave her…

Starlight takes a deep breath

Starlight: First of all, I was a latchkey filly. I never even had one babysitter, when my father went to work I was always alone in the house by myself. When Sunburst was still in town, he at least tended to come over from time to time. But once he got his cutie mark and left, that was it. Which added to why him leaving was the beginning of such a dark part of my life... As I was left alone for most hours of any days my father had to work.

One day, I was playing with a ball in the basement and when I accidentally supercharged it into a wall. A hole broke through, and when I looked into it... I found two books, and read them both. The first one I read…. ehehhehheh… isn’t exactly relevant right now… but the 2nd one absolutely was. It was a spell book for some of the more advanced unicorns, and I mean like super advanced. As in probably most students aside from you at Celestia’s gifted students school may have had trouble performing the kind of things in that book. And yet, even as young as I was… I somewhat understood the nuances in the book.

I found a spell in the book of self-levitation AKA flight with just magic. Surprisingly, it was one of the more simpler ones in the book. I decided to give it a try, and soon I was having some fun flying all around the basement. But then things went wrong when I tried picking up the ball at the same time. Because it was such an advanced spell, and I was inexperienced with controlling that kind of power, it led to me unable to control what I was picking up and soon all the toys on the basement floor were orbiting around me. A magic aura appeared, and at least my father has told me he remembers that my eyes were glowing then.

Twilight:  *gasp* This sounds quite similar to my magic freakout after I had hatched Spike…

Starlight: It probably was pretty much just like that. Though speaking of my father, he came home at the time and I screamed to call for him to help me. He came down, and eventually tackled me down. I may have a complicated relationship with my father, but I was thankful to him for saving me. I became scared of what might have happened if say… I had that same magical freakout but in the kitchen, with a lot more dangerous materials like knives swirling around me…

Once we recovered from the shock, I told my father what happened. Naturally, leading to him keeping that spellbook as far away as possible from me. But amid my father looking if I had any injuries, that’s when he noticed that I had gotten my Cutie Mark. He pointed it out to me, and I immediately looked at my flank. Now obviously that magic outburst was what gave me my cutie mark. But what an outburst like that doesn’t exactly do is really explain what it means. Perhaps, naturally it just means I have a lot of raw magic power. But the problem is, it makes it quite vague.

Twilight, your cutie mark is somewhat similar in that way, but you knew it meant your skill in magic because you had read for hours upon hours about magic, plus you received the mark just as you were about to become Celestia’s protege. I didn’t have that, it just simply happened as I used an advanced spell for the first time. So I didn’t understand what sort of future I was destined for, not to mention of course that I hated cutie marks because of Sunburst leaving. So even if I kind of knew what it meant, I would of grumbled about it regardless.

So… the only explanation for my raw magic power… as deduced by the Cutie Mark Crusaders… is I had to have inherited it. Somepony in my family has a bloodline of strong magic power. And my father’s bloodline I’m pretty sure has no signs of that. So that means… it has to be related to my mother somehow…

Twilight: I see… then this isn’t just a matter of family-related strife... The identity of your mother holds the keys to the very pony that you are destined to be!

Starlight: Also, Twilight… I think it’s about time I confess something to you… Do you remember when I finally turned around while we were traveling through time after all you did was just softly speak to me?

Twilight gasps, as she’s long wanted to hear this

Twilight: Yes…?

Starlight starts streaming down tears

Starlight: I think I gave in… because hearing your voice then… was almost like having the mother I never had… you’re the closest to a mother figure I’ve ever had… *sniff*

Twilight: Oh Starlight… come here…

Twilight calls Starlight in for a hug. Starlight hugs Twilight and Twilight wraps both of her wings around her, as Starlight’s tears stream down her face and onto Twilight’s shoulders. The rest of the group with sympathetic tears and smiles as they watch the long hug Twilight gives Starlight. Twilight softly speaks to Starlight in the middle of the hug.

Twilight: Let’s go solve this, together… We’ll go to Sire’s Hollow right now… You and your father are going to be reuniting with your mother, one way or another…

Starlight lets go of the hug and wipes the tears away from her eyes

Starlight: Thank you, Twilight… Allow me to get us there.

Starlight pulls out another piece of gum back to Starlight’s old hometown. Once the portal is open, Starlight enters first, as Twilight and the others follow. 

((Story continues after the break))

Before they bring Firelight out of his home. They discuss the game plan on setting out to find Starlight’s mother.

Twilight: Ok… so if I recall correctly... you said you have no idea what happened to your mother, ergo, you don’t even know if she’s alive or not. Correct?

Starlight nods

Starlight: Correct

Twilight: Well… then there’s 2 ways we can go about this first. Either you wish you knew where your mother was on the planet to check if she’s alive, or… we use Spike’s dragon tear to check if she’s among the deceased.

Starlight taps her hooves together with a bit of a sinister grin

Starlight: What if… I wished I could read my father’s mind?

Twilight scowls

Twilight: Sorry Starlight, but I’d rather not grant the ability to read a pony’s mind. Everypony should have a right to their private thoughts. Even if it’s a secret that your father has selfishly kept from you. Besides, the two ways I told you about will do it just as well.

Starlight: Ok… I guess I understand. Guess this is why Malakhar genified you, you’re responsible with your wishes. But I suppose it’s time to get my father out. I’ll be right back out with him.

Starlight walks into her old home again, this time Firelight is drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Firelight turns to see her daughter’s back.

Firelight: Hey there Pumpky-wu-WHAAAA

Starlight grabs her father by the collar with her magic, the sudden jerk makes him drop his coffee, the cup breaking on the kitchen floor, a big coffee spill now on the floor, and Starlight brings his face close to her’s

Starlight: No childish nicknames right now. We are ending this… right. now.

Firelight: Agggh! Starlight, what are you talking about?!

Starlight: We are reuniting with my mother, one way or another. I have Princess Twilight and her friends outside the house. I’m going to get a wish from her that will let me find her. And you’re just going to stand there and watch!

Firelight: B…b..bu….but I thought you said you could wait for years at the ball!

Starlight rolls her eyes

Starlight: Oh Father, you’ve always been soooooo naive, when I was very clearly being sarcastic!

Firelight: Wait, Starlight you don’t have to do this!

Starlight drops her father’s collar and raises an eyebrow as he drops to his floor his chin hitting the floor.

Starlight: Oh? Are you willing to say who she was yourself right now?

Firelight just sweats nervously and keeps quiet. Seems like he’s still not willing to say it himself. Starlight raising an eyebrow. Giving him time to answer, but Firelight still says nothing.

Starlight: *sigh* I guess I’ll take that as a no…

Starlight now grabs her father by the tail with her magic and starts dragging him out of the house.

Firelight: Agh! Starlight! Wait! There’s going to be a storm any second now! The weather patrol told us to stay inside!

Starlight ignores her father’s pleads and has soon brought him out to the group outside their home. Starlight let’s go of his tail. And he stands back up, looking at a group of displeased mares, fillies, and one dragon given they know he’s been the one who’s hidden Starlight’s mother’s identity for so long.

Applejack: Ya’ll should count ya self lucky we have other methods t’ finding Starlight’s Mom. Otherwise, ya would o’ had t’ deal with me!

Rainbow: And me!

Firelight: But I do have a reason for not telling her!

Applejack: Then maybe at least try t’ tell us?

Firelight: I… can’t without revealing the identity…

Applejack: Well then, ya’ll pleading is useless, we’re finding Starlight’s mother whether ya like it or not!

Firelight just droops his head. Twilight and Starlight then get set to preparing to do either of the two methods Twilight mentioned.

Twilight: So, do you want to check if your mother is alive or dead first?

Starlight: I suppose we should check if she’s alive first… So… Twilight… I wish I knew where my mother was on the planet!

Twilight takes a deep breath closes her eyes, and makes her horn glow. Suddenly, overhead the storm that Firelight warned about approaches, Firelight tries to use the coming storm to try to delay things further.

Firelight: Hey uh… the storm from the weather team I told you about is here… you think we can try this another time... when the weather’s more clear…?

Starlight: NO! You are not weaseling out of this, just because you might get a little wet!

The group carefully watches Twilight still trying to use her magic to locate Starlight’s mother. Rain starts falling over Sire’s Hollow. Starlight stands there watching Twilight, she’s shaking a little in anticipation for finally finding the location of her mother.

A few moments later…

…

……

………

…………

Twilight opens her eyes and frowns

Twilight: Starlight… Firelight… I’m sorry… but… I can’t find her… 

I’m… afraid... That likely means that the worst has happened to her…

The entire rest of the group gasps, especially Starlight and her father. Because of this one try… the possibility of Starlight’s Mother is dead is still out there, and in fact… is probably more likely then not.

Firelight: No… no… nonononono… s-s-sh-she can’t b-b-be… there must be some sort of explanation for this…!

Starlight glares at her father.

Starlight: LIKE WHAT?! That she’s such a powerful unicorn that not even SOUL MAGIC can find her?! Twilight’s magic is quite capable of looking across the entire world for one pony in the time she tried granting that wish!

Rain starts falling faster, and the rumbles of thunder can be heard as the sky gets darker.

Firelight: I… mean… maybe… but wait, how did you…

Starlight: Find out she was a powerful unicorn? That’s thanks to these 3 fillies over here who know how to read a cutie mark story *Pointing to the Cutie Mark Crusaders*

Firelight: Well uh… I guess while you know… you at least brought up a good optimistic possibility of why Twilight didn’t find her?

Starlight: There’s only one way to find out now… Spike, please come on over here.

Spike: Right!

Spike gives a determined face as he heads up to where Starlight is standing.

Starlight: So Twilight, if I recall correctly from you girls telling me how spirits are summoned. If my mother is indeed deceased, I just touch Spike’s Dragon Tear and send a message to my mother mentally, right?

Twilight: Yes… As for you Firelight, you can also say something. I know you don’t want to believe she’s dead, but you also don’t know what happened to her since she disappeared. Even if you’d rather be blissfully unaware of your wife’s fate… wouldn’t you at least like to try to speak to her? And if for some reason, nothing happens, then you will be proved right that she was still alive despite my magic being unable to find her.

Firelight: Wait, even if she is dead… which I hope she’s not… you expect me to believe we can talk to her simply by touching the gem on the dragon’s necklace?!

Applejack uses her status as the element of honesty to her advantage, looking at Firelight with a smug face and just replying with a very blunt…

Applejack: Yes!

The reputation of the Elements of Harmony is pretty much known world-wide by now. So Applejack saying this in a straight face, reassures anypony that it’s the truth. Firelight just going wide-eyed, and bites his lip. Before heaving a long sigh and giving in

Firelight: Does it require more then one pony to work?

Twilight: No, Starlight could do it solo if necessary

That sort of entraps Firelight since regardless if he touches it or not, they’re going to find out. The storm also picks up intensity. Rain falling harder and lightning can be seen in the distance.

Firelight: I guess I have no choice then… I’ll try… but I hope to Celestia that somehow she’s still alive… I don’t know why your magic couldn’t find her… but I hope, hope, hope, hope she is somewhere on the world… that just can’t be found by magic means… maybe Starlight is right that she’s using her own magic to hide herself…

Starlight: But then that’d mean she’s been neglecting us AND refusing to let anypony find her under any circumstances…  to the point SOUL MAGIC can’t find her! Would that really be a good thing…?

Firelight closes his eyes, droops his head, and sighs

Firelight: It would be to me… because at least she’s still alive and safe… even if she no longer wants to be a part of our family… knowing she’s ok would be good enough for me... and quite frankly today’s conversation almost makes me want to remain blissfully unaware... but... I know Starlight’s about to find out either way... so I can’t...

Starlight: A part of me hopes she’s still alive too… just so there’s a chance that even if I never had her for my childhood. I can have her around for however long she will be alive. I guess thanks to learning of the existence of the soul shield, even if she is dead, I will be lucky enough to still get to talk to her, but we won’t exactly be able to do a lot of things together, if she’s part of the trillions of souls protecting our planet…

Twilight: I hope that by some miracle she’s fine too… for both of your sakes. But we also shouldn’t try to deny reality and face the truth. Starlight’s agonized long enough not knowing, she needs to know what happened to her mother. She’ll never understand who she truly is, if we don’t do this. If you have any basic decency as a father, you’ll want her to find out...

Firelight lowers his head

Firelight: y-y-Yeah… l-l-let’s d-do it….

*THUNDER BOOM*

Firelight: …p-p-Preferably before we get struck by lightning!

Starlight and Firelight touch Spike’s Dragon Tear. And proceed to take deep breaths, then close their eyes to focus on a message inside their head.

Starlight: (Hello? Mother? This is your daughter… Starlight… you disappeared 2 weeks after i was born… I don’t know for sure if you’re really up there… but I really wish to see you for the first time in my life… I wish to know who you were… I’m gone my entire life without knowing, I can’t even be sure how I’m supposed to feel about you… I suppose that if you are up there, there’s a good chance that I’ll like you because only those who lived normal or better lives are up there… But even if for some reason I don’t, I’ll at least get answers… Please! Open up the keys to who I truly am!)

Firelight: (I really hope that I’m doing this for nothing… please, I plead for nothing to happen. I hope that my wife’s actually ok… I’d like to see her… I don’t care if she suddenly decided she never wants to anything to do with me or Starlight ever again. I don’t even care if it turns out she just abandoned us for an unknown reason without telling us… I’ll just he happy that she’s fine… I beg of the many souls that are apparently surrounding this planet… please don’t tell me she is among you! Please! I just won’t be able to take it…)

*THUNDER BOOM*

Starlight and her Father finish, and open their eyes. Starlight shivers, partly because of nervousness but also because of the cold rain now making her mane and tail soaked. Her father on the other hand is a complete wreck just shaking a whole ton of nervousness. He’s mentally praying that nothing comes down, proving once and for all his wife is still alive. The rest of the group keeps an eye on Spike’s Dragon Tear.

…

……

………

…………

*THUNDER BOOM*

Just as more thunder is heard, Spike’s Dragon tear starts glowing. Firelight freaks out, and wonders what’s happening

Firelight: w-w-wh-wh-Wha…? What’s happening…?!

The rest of the group including Starlight lower their heads, they know what this means: A spirit is being summoned. But Starlight remains determined as she picks her head back up and puts on a brave face. Watching the sky to witness her first spirit summoning, and it’ll be none other then her long, lost mother.

Firelight: Somepony! Please... tell me this doesn’t mean…

Out in the distance a bright white light from the sky starts approaching fast towards Sire’s Hollow. Twilight whispers to herself.

Twilight: Here she is…

Firelight: Is that… a comet? Shouldn’t we try to evacuate, before it hits?!

Spike: Don’t worry, her spirit isn’t going to impact the planet.

Firelight: Don’t you dare say her spirit! This has to be something else! Couldn’t it?!

The rest of the group just shakes their head at Firelight’s attempts to deny the reality of what’s happening.

*THUNDER BOOM*

The white comet comes down closer and eventually stops just in front of a nearby house near the group and forms into a white sphere. It starts to turn into a pony shape, it’s at this point where Firelight’s heart finally starts to sink. He’s been able to deny as hard as possible until now, but the silhouette is starting to look unmistakable. A unicorn with a curvy mane and tail, that’s slightly spiky on top, the outline of what might just be one small bang next to the horn.

Then the color starts fading in, the coat revealing to be a golden yellow/amber…

A mane and tail that is a mix of red and yellow that evokes similarity to a fire, The spirit opens up it’s eyes showing a color of greenish-cyan, and the cutie mark in the shape of… a sun.

Just looking at the cutie mark was when Twilight knew… they didn’t just find Starlight’s mother… they had found…

*THUNDER BOOM*

Twilight: *gasp* Sunset Shimmer…!

The spirit looks at her daughter and her husband with a sad look on her face. At last, the identity of Starlight’s mother has been revealed. She’s none other then Celestia’s missing former protege prior to Twilight… Sunset Shimmer

The rest of the Elements of Harmony, and Spike all gasp, Starlight who has never heard a thing about Sunset Shimmer is confused.

Starlight: What’s this about a sunset’s shimmer? This storm is blocking the sun right now…

Twilight: No, Starlight.. Sunset Shimmer is your mother’s name!

Starlight: Huh?! How in the hay do you know that?!

Twilight: I’ll explain soon…

Sunset stands quietly for a moment, before finally speaking herself. She first turns toward Starlight

Sunset Shimmer: Hello… my lovely daughter… I… am so pleased, I get to see you again... 

Then she sadly turns over to her distraught husband

Sunset: But… as for my darling Fi-Fi… I am so sorry… but…

Sunset lowers her head and closes her eyes about to give her husband the harsh truth

Sunset:  I… was murdered a long time ago…

Firelight falls to his knees. Tears welling up in his eyes, even though he can actually see her, hear her, and even talk to her again. This is the moment it finally dawned on him that his wife was dead, and even worse… she just said she was murdered. So acting as if she had been killed right in front of him, he lays his front hooves on the ground in a puddle that’s a mix between his own tears and the rain from the storm. And yells out a long…

Firelight: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

His screams of grief echo throughout the entire valley.

UP NEXT: Chapter 26 - Starlight’s Mother, Part 2 - Why Did Firelight Keep Her A Secret?

[miraculouscataclyyysm]

Seating plan au Part 14

link to part 13

I’d recommend listening to house of memories by imagine dragons after or while reading this, it fits (see end of post to avoid a slight spoiler) vibe for this one, it’s also what inspired this and the next part

The next day Mari walks into class with Alix by her side to hear “he called me a true artist, that I’m the future face of fashion” Alix-“this again” Mari smirks as they take there seats, Lila sees her opening

“Well, why don’t you take a look for your selves” and drops the designs in front of the class, Alya Mylene and Rose start praising Lila while Mari sees red “your joking right?” Felix looks up and instantly realises he was right to warn lb “f*cking hell...”

“What are you talking about Marinette?” Lila says in a sickeningly sweet voice “those are my designs! How the hell did you get your hands on my design book! You....you don’t steal people’s work Lila” “how could you accuse me of something so evil Marinette, that really hurts, I thought we were starting to get along” Alya-“not cool Marinette” Alix-“not cool yourself, you really think those designs don’t scream Marinette?!? For god sake, they have her signature flower on them!!!” Felix-“of course they don’t Alix...there all clearly idiots”

The class falls into chaos Nino and Adrian walk in just as Ivan and Kim start pulling Alix and Alya away from each other Nino-“I’m not even surprised anymore” Adrian-“what happened this time Chloe?” Chloe while looking incredibly bored says “lie-la stole dupain cheng’s design book and passed her work off as her own to your father” Adrian quickly walks over to the discarded book and scans the pages Nino looks over his shoulder “dudes these are clearly Marinette's” Lila fake crying “not you too Nino I thought you were one of the good guys” Nino proceeds to give her his best *I’m done with your shit face* 

Marinette's eyes start to water with frustration, how can her classmates be so blind, it’s obvious no matter what she says Lila will twist her words, she’s to good at it, she should have acted on ren (Fox Felix) warning sooner, she knows she needs to calm down but Lila went for her art, a part of her very soul, she can’t shake the image of Lila passing of her designs and stealing her artistic vision, tears start to fall from her eyes and she snaps out of though and runs out of the room, alix, Kim and felix all shout after her but it’s too late, she finds an empty stall in the bathroom and locks the door

Lila’s plan is going perfectly, now all she needs to do is finish Marinette off and the best way to do that is to hit were wert it truly hurts, she needs to break Marinette's heart once and for all, but she knows she’ll need to be smart about it

Lila transforms and using an Amok creates a Sentimonster of Adrian(she thinks Felix would be too obvious, Marinette would never believe Felix who hates Lila would help her, plus Marinette holds friendships just as close to her heart, having a friend betray her would be devastating) then she stages a conversation outside the girls bathroom loud enough for Marinette to hear...and also Marc who was out looking for Mari after receiving a worrying text from Alix “you need to do me a favour M! look for Marinette when you get to school! You said you were running late this morning right?!? so no one will care if you're even later, Rossi pulled some major crap and I’m worried for my girl!”

“Your sure Felix didn’t see you right?” “He didn’t see anything, we have nothing to worry about, he’ll never figure it out, when he looks at me he still sees his pathetic week cousin, he has no clue Iv been playing him and his stupid girlfriend this entire time” “you're a genius, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this myself, now the entire class knows Marinette is just a bitter jealous bully and once you speak to your father Gabriel will fire her from her internship, her career will be over before it started” Mari starts to cry heavier Tikki- “that’s not true Marinette, you just have to stay strong, your true friends know you, they believe in you” Tikki was trying to get Marinette to listen but she just heard Adrian and Lila's words over and over again in her head, Adrian was never her friend, he was using her...it was all a lie...she’ll never be a designer, her dreams are over, her friends don’t believe her

Hearing all this Marc runs to the cafeteria and grabs Alix not waiting to explain he drags her to the girls bathroom (he was also too distracted with worry to notice Adrian sitting with Nino at the other end of the room) Lila and senti Adrian are already gone, he gives Alix the fast version and she pulls a shocked Marc into the girls room with him “I can’t go in there” “stop being a baby Mari needs us”

Tikki peeks under the stall door and sees Alix so she carefully unlocks the door and pushes it open before hiding “oh my god Mari!” Alix engulfs Mari in a bone-crushing hug, Marc grabs some tissues to dry her face, they try to calm her down but it’s too late

A slow flapping noise starts to fill the room, Marc notices the Akuma first and pulls Alix out fo the way “we need to go!” “I’m not leaving her!” Alix grabs Maris hands “you need to snap out of it Marinette, you're stronger than this, your the strongest person I know, I know you can do this, your stronger than that b*tch, everyone who matters, your true friends know she’s full of shit” “it’s all lies” Mari looks up, her eyes painfully red and full of tears “I’m so dumb, I’m so stupid, How am I supposed to help anyone when I can’t even help my self...I’m useless....I’m nothing” “your Marinette dupain-cheng, there’s nothing useless about you, your kind, your loving, your our everyday hero Mari, your my best friend, you're my hero”

just as Mari starts to look back up Marc pulls Alix away again, she sees the Akuma and quickly before she out of reach puts her earings into Alix’s hand and whispers “you know what to do” the Akuma hits Marinette just as Marc pulls them out of the bathroom, they both run out of the school, confused Alix looks into her hand and sees a pair of earrings when suddenly a small red familiar-looking creature whispers from behind her hair “we need to save ladybug” realisation sinks in “f*ck”

“I wish I could belive you never wronged me”-Marinettes whole vibe for this and the next part

Part 15

Tag list-

@loveswifi @lunar-wolf-warrior

@persephonebutkore @charlietheepic7 @7-sage-7

@spicybelladonna @akana-sama @goggles-mcgee

[theship-thewalrus]

I saw the jealous Aegon ii image and loved it 🥰 , I was wondering if you could do one for Aemond being jealous of his wife being nice to Luke and like he gest real angry and tries to hid it and reader could see this and plays along making him more jealous and later that night she doms him in sex saying that 'there's nobody else', please??

Hi Anon! I love me some jealous fic >:) I must warn you I believe I am terrible at writing smut. Hope you enjoy though <3

aemond targaryen x female! wife! reader

pretty much the ask

word count: 801 words reading time: about 4 minutes warnings: jealousy, smut

Aemond could not fathom why you entertained Luke's advances, it was clear as day the boy had a little puppy crush on you. Why did you bother being nice to him, he did not deserve it. He had done nothing to grant your affection. He was not worthy of it, only he was. You knew Aemond was watching you, you could feel his eye watching you intently. Even Jace picked up on it, watching Aemond in case he did something. Finding it fun you began to egg him on a little.

Watching you laugh at something Lucerys said bad he jump up from the table. You knew straight away the Dinner was going to be ruined due to his jealousy and your foolishness. The grip he had on his goblet as he raised it was tight enough to make his knuckles turn white. The head of those sitting at the table turned to him, wondering what he had to say. Yet, they all know it couldn't be anything good.

"A final tribute," Aemond begins, the music stopping as everyone waits with bated breath to hear what he has to say. "To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffery." He looks at both the boy who was present as he said their names. The tension was rising quickly and you all but prayed your husband would not allow his emotions to could his judgement. "Each of them handsome, wise ... strong" Alicent tried to stop her son, calling his name with a firm but pleading tone. Yet the man was already too far in to stop. "Come, let us drain our cups. To these three... strong boys."

"I dare you to say it again," Jace snaps, taking a step forward. Rising from your seat you move to your husband's side. Hoping your presence would calm him to not do anything rash. Placing a hand on his arm you tried to pull him away, not wanting the feast to be ruined. Yet he simply shrugged you off, squaring up to his nephew "Why? Do you not think yourself strong?" He asked marching towards him.

Jace was a protective older brother, he saw how Aemond's eyes filled with hatred for his brother. He would not allow his words to go unchallenged. Throwing a punch at Aemond, seemed to open the gates to Aegon slamming Luke's face against the table, stopping him from reaching the other two. Aemond hardly flinched at the punch, not even spilling a drop of wine from his cup. Simply shoving Jace away as though he was nothing. You almost hated how the action seemed to light a fire in your core. Seeing him so effortlessly display his strength, without even a single blemish to himself.

Alicent was angered by Aemond but there was little he could do to stop her son. Everyone watched Aemond glare at Daemon for a few moments. But you have had enough of this, grabbing Aemond by the arm harshly. "Let us retire to our chambers Aemond." Your voice was firm as you pulled him away from the dining room.

You knew a great way to get rid of the anger Aemond had while also reassuring him of your devotion to him. Moving your hips at a quickening past, the sweat on your body increases. The ragged breaths that felt your both were one of the few noises in the room. Looking down at him, Aemond was already looking up at your eyes filled with adoration. A grin formed on your face as you lean down, your hair making a sort of curtain. Aemond was at your mercy, hand staying on your hips where you placed them. Not daring to move them, no matter how much he wished to grab your breasts.

"Are you still made, my prince?" Your voice was teasing as you reach down a whisper in your ear. Afterwards placing a long string of kisses on his neck and down his collarbone. A mixture of you sucking on his neck and your hip movement made it hard for him to think straight. The man could not seem to think of the right words to say to you, he wanted to say something snarky in an attempt to gain power. But you were having none of it, your head rising from its place on his neck. Your eyes look down at him, studying him "Are you going to say something? Do you need some more reminding?" With each word, you move your hips sharply, pulling a shaky breath from him.

"You know there is nobody else. I have my hands filled enough with you." You tease but your eyes darken a little, whispering in his ear once more, "Besides, I don't know any who can fill me better than you."

[theyearoftheking]

Book Fifty-Seven: Cell

“It was the cell phones...”

Actual conversation with my daughter while reading Cell...

SB: “What’s that book about?” 

Me: Cellphones that turn people into murderous, rage-filled zombie cannibals.” 

SB: “Yep, that sounds about right!”

Cell is equal parts cute in it’s nostalgia about a time where cellphones were NOT surgically attached to peoples hands; and oddly prophetic. I actually deleted my Facebook account last month, because scrolling was filling me with the same rage I imagine characters in Cell felt. I mean, I might not have tried to rip someone’s throat out, but I definitely would have slapped a bitch. Or seven. I was tired of every damn decision/preference turning into a political, polarizing, them-vs-us debate. 

Masks

Voting

Covid

Reproductive rights

Science 

Religion

The list goes on and on. I just got tired of people being ugly towards each other. I was tired of the sick feeling I’d get in my stomach when I saw a friend I really liked posting hateful memes, or misinformation, or referring to people who wore masks as sheep. This was finally the meme that did it for me...

In a bitter twist of irony, this person’s workplace (with no masks or social distancing) just had a massive Covid outbreak. So there’s that. Who’s the sheep now, motherfucker?! So, yeah. I primarily hang out on Instagram now, looking at pictures of dogs, and posting pictures of food. It’s not terrible. It’s far preferable to Facebook, that’s for damn sure. But I do miss snooping on people. Not going to lie. 

Ok! So, Cell... This story takes off almost immediately. Clay Riddell, an artist, is celebrating a massive deal he just signed in Boston. He bought his wife a fancy paperweight (as you do); and is in line for an ice cream cone when it all goes to hell. People start getting calls on their cellphones, and beating/mauling each other to death. Clay dashes off, and eventually meets up with Alice Maxwell and Tom McCourt. They hide out in a downtown Boston hotel, and determine the cellphones are behind the rage-filled attacks the city is experiencing. Clay is worried about his wife and son, and convinces Alice and Tom to travel north to Maine with him. 

The rest of the story is like a shortened, but more graphically violent version of The Stand: a long journey on foot, some characters die, some new people join their trio, cryptic messages spray painted all over the city (KASHWAK=NO-FO), and of course a villain: Raggedy Man. 

This was my first time reading Cell, and it was fine. It was a fast read, but I didn’t really feel any connection to the characters or their plight. It was solidly “meh”. There was one Dark Tower reference: a shout-out to our pal Charlie the Choo-Choo. And one Wisconsin reference: the lovely city of Madison was mentioned. 

Oh, and there was this. We can file it under, “Author Bios that Didn’t Age Well and Most Certainly Untrue in 2020″ 

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 38

Total Dark Tower References: 53

Book Grade: C+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

The Talisman: A+

Wizard and Glass: A+

Needful Things: A+

On Writing: A+

The Green Mile: A+

Hearts in Atlantis: A+

Rose Madder: A+

Misery: A+

Different Seasons: A+

It: A+

Four Past Midnight: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

Bag of Bones: A-

Black House: A-

The Wastelands: A-

The Drawing of the Three: A-

The Dark Tower: A-

Dolores Claiborne: A-

Nightmares in the Sky: B+

The Dark Half: B+

Skeleton Crew: B+

The Dead Zone: B+

Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+

Wolves of the Calla: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Song of Susannah: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

From a Buick 8: B

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon: B

The Colorado Kid: B-

Storm of the Century: B-

Everything’s Eventual: B-

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Running Man: C+

Cell: C+

Thinner: C+

Dark Visions: C+

The Eyes of the Dragon: C+

The Long Walk: C+

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Rage: C

Desperation: C-

Insomnia: C-

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Faithful: D

Gerald’s Game: D

Roadwork: D

Christine: D

Dreamcatcher: D

The Regulators: D

The Tommyknockers: D

Next up is Lisey’s Story. I’ve seen rave reviews all over the Constant Reader fan pages; and I just don’t get it. It’s been so slow to start, and it’s very psychological. Stay tuned...

Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights, Rebecca

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations - How to Crack the Code

Now that Season Three of A Series of Unfortunate Events has aired, I feel it’s about time to finally tell y’all the Code from The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations- for those of you who can’t get the book, haven’t read it yet, can’t figure out the code, or who just don’t wanna spend time finding it out yourselves. 

On page 188 of The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations, the key to cracking a code sprinkled throughout the book is provided: 

WARNING → THERE IS A SECRET MESSAGE IN THIS BOOK

You may have noticed a cross-referencing technique that appears throughout these pages, looking as such: (See: Notorious Researchers, pg. 30). This device is a helpful way to direct readers to relevant information that can be found elsewhere in a text. 

It is also a handy way to send a secret message. 

Every librarian knows that books contain secrets, and hiding a secret message in the pages of a book is a frequent VFD tactic. Volunteers who cleverly cross-reference will discover the message, while their enemies, who rarely finish a book, remain unaware. 

If you have read this far, you may be wondering how to discover this message yourself. First read the book carefully, making note of any parentheticals shaded an unusual hue. This is no printer error; it is a key informing you that part of the message can be found on the suggested page. Follow the references and locate the letters colored a corresponding hue. These letters are scrambled, not unlike an anagram. Once you have unscrambled the word, write it on the color-coded line of this telegram. Completing the telegram will reveal the answer to a question that has stumped philosophers, police inspectors, and even Lemony Snicket: 

What comes after the end of The End? 

Next to this description is a photo of a telegram, which is fourteen words long: 

___ ____ __ _______ 

____ ___ __ _____ 

____ ____ _____

__ _____ _____

And, indeed, each word is underlined in a different color. 

Now... onto cracking the code.

As referenced, there are occasional cross-references in the text. And sometimes, the See: is in the color you need to look for. 

If you follow each See to its corresponding page, you’ll find letters scattered across the text that are in the color you need to find. These letters make up each word. 

Word-by-word, let’s see what we can find: 

The first word, in dark purple, is on page 133: The Reptile Room. To be honest, this is the hardest word to find: the dark color is very close to the color of the actual text. There are three letters here, in the following sentences: 

You always want to do something new, but at the same time, I wanted to see if there were clues I could integrate into the design. 

This flips it so the priority is the reptiles, and his own living space is sort of diminutive. 

And in “The Reptile Room,” [Monty]’s delighted to share his world with these kids. 

otw

The second word is on page 99: Toupees for Toddles, in an orange-ish color. There are four letters, which can be found in the following sentences: 

“Well, we can’t put a wig on a baby.” 

It’s one of the oddest things I’ve ever done in my career, applying a little wig on a baby. 

When we started the second season, Presley had grown her hair long enough that we could actually create the ponytail with here own hair, which was a relief. 

ests 

The third word, in a hot pink, is on page 130: Mr Poe’s Office. There are only two letters, which can be found in the following sentences: 

It can be goofy, but it’s never goofy-stupid. 

He’s the guy that’s literally standing between Olaf and the Baudelaire fortune. 

of

The fourth word, on page 110: How to Dress for a Masked Ball, in a gray-blue color, can be found in the following sentences, with seven letters: 

The flashback that opens “The Carnivorous Carnival” is set at a Venetian-style masked ball, where masks conceal a number of familiar faces. Cynthia Summers designed each mask with the character in mind, including Dr Orwell’s “eyeglasses,” a Medusa-inspired snake mask for Uncle Monty, and theatrical comedy/tragedy masks for the Snicket Brothers. (Jacques wears the comedy mask, while Lemony, of course, is tragedy.) The ball also marks the first on-screen appearance of the mysterious Beatrice, described in the script as “a beautiful woman dressed as a dragonfly.” 

eidnrsf

The fifth word, four letters long, is on page 45: Olivia Caliban/Madame Lulu, is in gray: 

A dangling thread from Season One was a certain book on secret organizations discovered by Justice Strauss - a book whose title will be familiar to anyone reading this. 

Still, they liked the idea of a character finding The Incomplete History of Secret Organizations and having the book change your life, as it will no doubt change yours. 

While the book’s version of Olivia is a veteran agent of dubious morality, the show reinvents her as a noble school librarian struggling against institutional corruption. 

There, disguised as Madame Lulu, she fulfills her mission of passing the book to the Baudelaires - and sacrifices herself at the lion pit to save their lives. 

jtsu 

The sixth word, colored light orange, is on page 109: How to Dress for a Career in Food Service. The three letters can be found here: 

Author Daniel Handler explains that the VFD agents we meed in the show are the types of people whom children notice by adults overlook. 

You’re going to notice things that are invisible to the adults talking over your head. 

Take a good look at the restaurant’s terrifying logo. 

uto

On page 141: The Miserable Mill is the seventh word, in two red letters: 

“The Wide Window” left us with no more stage space, so it forced us to shoot the mill at a real location, an old dock building which we then tried to make look like a stage. 

Klaus comes back from the eye doctor, but he isn’t quite himself. 

fo

The eighth word is on page 97: The Real Sugar Bowl. There are five light purple letters: 

According to Esme, it was stolen from her by Beatrice, and according to Olivia, it may have been the reason for the VFD schism. It’s not the first sugar bowl to play a vital role in a work of classic literature (interested parties may seek out We Have Always Lived in The Castle at their local library), but Daniel Handler muses on another possible inspiration: “There a whole sugar scene in the movie Midnight (See: Snicket, Jacques, pg 44) that must have seeped into me when I was a child. Somehow I think that was one of the sugar bowls of literature that ended up sneaking in.” 

The existence of four identical sugar bowl [props] may be of interest to Esme Squalor, or at least her actress, Lucy Punch, who requested to keep one when the series wrapped. “My character was so desperate for it,” says Punch. “It seemed appropriate.” 

eahrc

The ninth word, in blue, is on page 172: The Carnivorous Carnival. There are four letters: 

There’s literally no program you can watch that’s any wierce. 

The aesthetic of carnivals and circuses is naturally creepy and absurd to begin with. And then you add the overlay of our material, where everything is filtered  through the Baudelaires, so the sets are designed to be seen as if you’re a vulnerable child glimpsing this horrible world and trying to maintain hope. 

Count Olaf arrives at Caligari Carnival, where he hopes the fortune-teller can help him. 

wlli

The tenth word is on page 89: The Many Faces of Barry Sonnenfeld. There are four green letters: 

and in “The Vile Village,” he’s the fire chief posing with his Dalmatian int he firehouse-turned-saloon. 

A common ancestor to our series’ interconnected families? 

Barry birthday is April Fool’s Day, and for his birthday, I decided to knock off a painting with him in it. 

We’re shooting the Hotel Denouement right now, and the whole hotel isi based on the Dewey Decimal System, and each floor is a different subject. 

eetm

On page 64-65: The Sinister Songs, you can find five magenta letters for the eleventh word: 

“I was a huge fan of the books in my twenties, and I  was also a huge fan of Barry Sonnenfeld, so to see those two come together and actually be a part of it was unreal.” 

Count Olaf introduces himself to the Baudelaires with this song and dance - ignoring the fact he’s already met them. Handlers says, “Singing is perfect for Count Olaf because he imagines himself so wonderful.” 

All of the dance numbers were choreographed by Paul Becker, who pulled double duty in the first half of “The Carnivorous Carnival”.

She’s had quite an exciting / Time on the road

agina

On page 24: Violet the Inventor, there are two gray letters for the twelfth word: 

But now those inventions, like the Baudelaire mansion itself, are gone. 

She promised her parents she would always look after them, and while Count Olaf’s schemes have put that promise to the test, Violet’s managed to stand strong in even the most unfortunate situation. 

on

Pages 116-117: Deciphering Code: Using the Dials of the Spyglass, has five purple letters for the thirteenth word: 

As a volunteer, you already know why and when the spyglass was created (See: Motion Picture, Pg 10) but we will briefly recap its history here.

A permanent mark has its advantages, since even the most absent-minded member rarely leave the house without their ankle (See: Peg Leg, pg 86), but it has its drawbacks too, particularly if the organization undergoes a schism, so that the same symbol that once stood for comradery and literacy suddenly represents treachery and pyromania now that it is inscribed on the ankles of your enemies. 

But just as a movie might be more than a movie, a spyglass can be more than a spyglass. 

Critics called these films terrible, which was the point: Sebald wanted to ensure that no one would want to see them besides other volunteers, who would be more interested in their secret messages than their artistic value. 

The cinema’s projectionist assigns the film a production code made up of a unique combination of numbers and symbols. 

riynb

The fourteenth and final word can be found on page 32: Who is Lemony Snicket? There are five pale green letters: 

He is currently investigating the lives of the Baudelaire orphans,  though his reason for doing so is unknown, as are his whereabouts. 

Mr. Snicket can be identified by his dry wit, his tailored suits, and his ankle tattoo, as well as his tendency to launch into wordy monologues containing Very Frequent Definitions. 

But when developing the series for Netflix, Barry Sonnenfeld and Daniel Handler independently felt that their Snicket should be seen as well as heard. 

And they both independently thought of Patrick Warburton, a frequent Sonnenfeld collaborator whom Handler had loved in a little-seen film called The Woman Chaser. Volunteers who track it down will note that it features Warburton speaking to the camera in a suit and a deadpan style that one might call Serlinig-esque - or Snicket-esque. 

haebc

The Code

So now we have all the words:  

otw ests of eidnrsf 

jtsu uto fo eahrc 

wlli eemt agina 

on riynb haebc  

Which do not take a long time to unscramble... 

What comes after the end of The End? 

Well, it turns out... the code is a couplet... 

Two sets of friends, just out of reach 

Will meet again on Briny Beach.

[louisamariella]

I was tagged by @songbird-and-her-fos ♥

Rules: answer 21 questions and tag 21 people you want to know better (OR LESS CAUSE I DON’T KNOW THAT MANY PEOPLE)

Nickname: Lou

Zodiac sign: Sagittarius

Height:  1,58m / 5″2

Hogwarts house: Slytherin

Last thing i googled: vegan tangerine cheesecake

Favorite musicians: Simple Plan, Imagine Dragons, Taylor Swift, Hayley Kiyoko

Song stuck in my head: Taylor Swift - Death By A Thousand Cuts

Following (and followed by if you want to tell): 140 blogs, followed by 606 blogs ♥

Do i get asks?: from time to time and everytime I do, it’s a sweet surprise

Amount of sleep: duh, like 5-8h ? 

Lucky numbers: 8, 13

Wearing: my pajama (yeah I know it’s 3pm)

Dream job: used to be teacher but we’ll see what happens when I graduate from uni, honestly

Dream trip: tokyo, venice, cananda in general

Instruments: guitar,  a bit of piano and violin 

Languages: german, english, spanish. learning japanese right now and can speak basics of swedish

Favorite songs: Heartlines by Broods, Welcome to the Black Parade by My Chemical Romance, Out of the Woods by Taylor Swift

Random fact: When I was drunk in 2014 I ate a fucking expensive steak with a lot of melted chocolate on top and I still think that this was the best thing I ever ate so far

Aesthetic: that swedish ikea wood/mint/white comination, pastel colors w/ glitter and dark forest autumn vibes cause it’s my favourite season

tagging @thedragonrainbow @nijiryuu @samiraheaven93 @starblazer124 @askthetheateroftruthcrew @youguyssuckballs @twilightnightstar @cardboarddragon @katethecaterpillar3 @nonbinary-cottoncandy @bipherpol @admin-in-residence @chrissy-chaaan-cp9 @my-silly-blog

[coffereadsasoiaf]

@kierathekiller ha risposto al tuo post

“The House of the Undying is my fave Dany chapter I’ve read so far,...”

Noo! I wanna here your comments!!!

Ok well I’ll put the things I think I recognize under a read more if you wanna have a laugh. But honestly, I’m okay with staying in the dark for the moment, it might be more fun to realize what some of these things might be reading on (I cannot imagine what might have been like to read about the slaughter-feast with the dead wolf-headed man and then in the next book getting to the red wedding oh my god I would have died).

So I’ll share this but I don’t really want to get answers/corrections/confirmations right now, I wanna keep some of the mystery intact ;)

the slaughter-feast is the RW and the dead man with the head of a wolf and an iron crown is Robb;

the man in the throne room is Aerys and he’s telling the pyromancer to burn everything so that Tywin (I guess? because he was about to sack KL) could be “king of the ashes”

the man she initially mistakes for Viserys is Raeghar, with I guess Lyanna and Aegon-Jon? Which would confirm Jon is the PTWP (although I was never that much of a fan of Jon’s parentage reveal, I guess it’s pretty confirmed at this point because of the show) and I know people think Tyrion might be the third head of the dragon but honestly that’s as far as I can go on this I only hope it’s gonna be something more complex than Jon=PTWP (maybe the Prince is all three of the heads together? I dunno)

the dying prince who sank on his knees in the water could also be Raeghar at the Trident? and the last woman name he speaks is Lyanna’s

there’s the blue-eyed king that made me think of the NK but then I remembered he is not a thing in the books so I have no idea

i think I remember blue flowers being associated with Lyanna, so maybe the blue flower blooming in the ice wall might be Jon?

the slaves reaching for her calling her mother are the slaves of Meereen

and a bunch of stuff of her past: the girl running fo the red door is her as a child and same with the lemon tree, Mirri burning, Viserys’ death and stuff like that

I have NO idea what the three lights, three mounts, three treasons might be- I could maybe draw some hypothesys from the show but since it didn’t reallt take prophecies much into consideration I’m not trusting D&D.

[blackdragon-selfships]

7, 8, 11 for attempt 2 because I'm 99% sure I picked the same ones as Cat lol! (If I didn't include those ones on this too :) )

Thanks for asking! :)

I actually answered most of the ones you sent, but I’ll link to the answers.^^’ Instead I went ahead and answered the ones I haven’t yet. Hope that’s ok.

Nosey Asks

1) How long have you been on Tumblr?

No, but seriously...I have no idea. XD But it’s been a long time...

2) Do you remember why you first decided to join?

Answered (12 and 14 too)

3) How many alternate blogs do you have? (Bonus: What are they about?)

Two right now, with one more on the way.

-My main: @theblackdragon-studios where I reblog whatever I feel like when I feel like it. There isn’t a theme or a schedule or anything.

-This one, which is regular Selfship content

-@blackdragon-Selfship-After-Dark Which is a mostly inactive right now blog for my NSFW content i don’t put on this blog. With Tumblr’s new policies it’s just writing and previews of art...eventually.

-And the new one is also Selfship-related. It’s for a project I’m working on called “The Fallen Star” which is a The Dragon Prince (his source material) AU starring (no pun intended) Aaravos as the protagonist, and my s/I as the deuteragonist/eventual love interest. It’ll be a comic/Ask blog where I will feel more comfortable writing Aaravos how I currently portray him. Especially if canon proves how off I am on it.

So that blog is coming soon. I just want to finish the prologue first.

5) If you could create content in any medium, which would be your preferred one?

Animation. It’s why I love animated movies and cartoons (aside from story and characters, which is another reason) so much.

7) Are you still nervous when you interact with other blogs?

Answered (4 & 8 as well)

9) You have the ability to make any of your FO based dreams reality, which would you pick?

Literal dreams about him? I haven’t had any...except one or two but it was canon-accurate. He was in the mirror, and being shady and suspicious. I don’t think I was even in it. Not exactly a romantic dream.

Alternatively, the one where he isn’t bad enough the show feels he needs to be killed off...? I don’t mind if he’s a villain or at least antagonist, but death is common in this show...and the villains get killed by some reason or other in the finale. I hope TDP doesn’t do that.

11) You wake up to discover you are in the world of your FO (as you imagine it, so not necessarily canon). A few months later you learn that's not real. Do you choose to wake up?

Funny this is a question. I actually have a fanfiction that revolves around this very idea, but it isn’t for my Selfship.

I already know none of it’s probably real, so learning it isn’t real in my dream...wouldn’t bother me. I wouldn’t wake up on my own probably. (But let’s not get into the more morbid consequences of what that means. lol)

13) Someone close to you discovers your blog, though the version they see consists only of the gushing posts, how do you react?

...I can explain. Actually, no...I can’t...uh... *fades out of existence*

15) Your FO is everything you ever dreamed of, with one minor flaw: They hate your pets and refuse to budge on this point. Who would you choose to keep?

...sorry, dude. I choose my pets. XD They would have it MUCH worse if I got rid of them.

Edit: Though to be fair...they aren’t MY pets. They live in my parents’ house. So if you want to get technical I wouldn’t have to choose, if I moved out. lol

[samwpmarleau]

Hello how are you? I have read many of your stories here on Tumblr and I dared to send you this message. You write so perfectly to Elia that I wanted to ask if you could write a little story with her as queen regent of Rhaenys as future queen of Westeros. I know it's a bit strange since Aegon would have been the king, but I believe faithfully that Elia would have fought for her daughter to be the queen, without marrying her brother. Thanks for the incredible story you upload, they are great.

Thank you so much!! Hope you enjoy and that this isn’t too contrived :)

It takes days of negotiations, just the two of them, before they reach an agreement. Neither of them likes the deal, but then, that’s what compromise is. The little things take no time at all; it’s the sticking point that takes the dragon’s share of their time.

Rhaegar would not be moved on his demand that Aelyx, his Stark-looking infant bastard, would be raised in the Keep. He had not pressed for legitimization or princehood, but just the thought of the child being raised here had turned her stomach. Even with acknowledgement and residence being the only benefits the babe receives, it is far too much of a reminder of Daemon Blackfyre for Elia’s comfort.

And so she had had to declare her own dealbreaker: Rhaenys must be named heir. It didn’t–and doesn’t–matter to her whether he adopted Dornish primogeniture for good or whether he used a kingly proclamation, only that once all is said and done, Rhaenys would in due course be queen in her own right. He had balked, though she had expected that.

Refuse, and I will take the children away in the middle of the night and you will never see them again, mark my words, she had warned. Refuse, and your prince that was promised, two of your heads of the dragon, will be plucked from your grasp.

He must have seen the murderous sincerity to her face, or else even the possibility fo his prophecy being thwarted was too much of a risk, for eventually, he had agreed.

And he follows through. The next day, he informs the Small Council, and later the court, of his will. There is uproar to the highest degree, as predicted. Not only is Rhaenys a girl, they all complain, but she resembles a Targaryen no more than Elia herself.

Yet somehow Rhaegar quiets them, at least for now. He reminds them that Rhaenys’s namesake had been a queen in her own right, and had King Jaehaerys not skirted previously established law, the next Rhaenys would have been queen, too.

But perhaps Elia should not be surprised that he would convince them. Rhaegar’s silver tongue had managed to mend the realm, more or less, after the civil war he had helped start; this would have been simple.

The ravens fly that very day.

Rhaenys is far too young to understand the gravity of the decision, barely four as she is, yet every time Elia imagines the future, her half-Dornish daughter ruling from on high, it gives her vindicated pleasure.

She is not an ambitious person by nature, but if Rhaegar could parade his bastard in front of her, putting her children in danger by the boy’s very existence, spur talk of whether Rhaegar would favor his northern child over his trueborn ones, then by all the gods she will ensure her position. She will remind the realm that Dorne is not powerless. Dorne will not be threatened. More importantly, Rhaegar could never underestimate her nor try to set her aside–were that his inclination, or even a possibility, though she doesn’t think it is–nor think his role is the only one that matters.

Naming Rhaenys his heir, even if he only does so in defense of his prophecy, would remind him until he breathed his last breath that she, Elia of Dorne, would always hold sway.

It does work, in the end. Oh, there are always rumblings of dissent, fervent enough to make her uneasy, but nothing ever truly materializes. As the years pass, almost all of those who had opposed Rhaegar’s edict finally resign themselves to it, switching from staunch opposition to putting forth their sons or brothers or cousins–or even themselves–as a potential consort.

Elia never comes to accept Aelyx–how could she?–never mind that he has no title and that he claims he’s sworn his sword to his half-siblings. But much like the citizens of Westeros have accepted Rhaenys’s heirship, so has she accepted that he is here to stay. At the least, he seems as uncomfortable around her as she is around him.

She is profoundly skeptical when on his sixteenth nameday he approaches her and says that when there is an opening, he wishes to don a white cloak, whether for Rhaegar’s Kingsguard or Rhaenys’s Queensguard.

It would give me a purpose, he tells her. And mayhaps it would show you once and for all that I intend never to threaten my brother and sister. I love them, Your Grace.

It seems too grand a gesture, too good to be true–and yet when Lord Commander Hightower passes in his sleep, the boy indeed presents his case to Ser Arthur, Ser Gerold’s successor, who in turn presents it to Rhaegar. So it is that nigh on his nineteenth nameday, Aelyx Waters takes the oath just as he’d promised.

She doesn’t know what to make of it, is only able to give him a nod, but he embraces it all the same.

Eight years hence, the moment Elia had envisioned for so long arrives. Participating in his umpteenth joust, a piece of wood that had splintered into the unprotected joint of Rhaegar’s breastplate festers, and within the week, he perishes, sending shockwaves through the realm.

Allaying Elia’s worst fears, one by one each lord paramount and each chief vassal sinks to his knee before the throne on which Rhaenys sits, swearing to her his fealty. Her consort, Prince Garlan, is seated in the chair at the base of the throne, pride his only expression, their twins at his side.

(That had certainly been a lengthy negotiation, too. Everyone knew the Tyrells were only nominally loyalists during the Rebellion, and as a Martell of Sunspear, she had not enjoyed the idea of marrying her daughter to a Reacher. But alternate options were few and undesirable, and Ser Garlan had been as charming as his uncle, so finally she had relented. That Rhaenys is besotted, now if not at the beginning, is a balm.)

Her daughter is a vision, Elia thinks with joy. She is clad in rich Targaryen crimson and black, her gleaming golden crown matching the dozen bangles on her wrists and the bands tying back her hair. She looks eminently content and confident on that mound of swords, eliciting the image of a dragon warming itself in the sun.

Her reign would not be without challenges, Elia knows–but no matter the rest, it is Rhaenys of Houses Targaryen and Martell, the First of Her Name, who is Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, for now until the end of her days.