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extraclwnporeal · 11 months

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Steve Harrington's relationship with love.

All the loving, all the lack of it. All the being loved in the end.

The Harrington's house was big and warm, at first, and their little Steven was welcomed with anticipation and want. The little one had warm food, plenty of toys, frequent visits of family's friends, and bedtime stories that ended with forehead kisses for some good years, all mostly from the hands of his mother. His smile was frequent and it felt like love. And of course, it didn't last — but, God, it was good once.

When Mr. Harrington's job stopped demanding for frequent flights, the house quickly changed. His low and scary voice was new to Steve — that only knew his mommy's melodic tone and her friends high pitched voices —, and it was used to say some new things to him, too. Things that made he think that maybe his hair wasn't so beautiful, or that the bad grades he got sometimes meant he didn't deserve good ones at all.

Once he was old enough to notice bad patterns, his parent's relationship didn't look like love either. It sounded and looked and even smelled wrong. The time Mrs. Harrington spent in the bathroom so she didn't have to talk to her husband, her beautiful confident voice fading and giving place to a shy voice that didn't sound like her at all. The frequent arguing, the way they glared at each other with nothing other than disdain and ressentment, and how they hated each other with such intensity there was no more space to love their son — it was all wrong.

When Steve got into high school, things seemed to change a little. From other eyes he discovered he could be a new person, just a handsome and charming jock who's easy to love. There were hands to hold, mouths to kiss and eyes glued on his back anywhere he went, and it almost felt like love. He called it love — with his hope disguised as certainty and experience.

He was sure it was love, yeah, sure, it must be. So, when Carol Perkins broke up with Tommy H. for the first time, Steve was sure of what do to, what to say. Steve got him into his car and drove him to Lover's Lake to clear his mind, already planning on taking him to parties and finding somebody new — even though he would miss Carol too. But Tommy started talking, confessing things he never thought he would. Steve listened to his best friend talk about how his relationship was flawed — how it lacked something so bitter to say they just acknowledged it without putting into words. His friend went silent, trying to muffle a cry, and so did Steve, thus their pain was shared in a weird bond. Then Tommy — a disheveled and exasperated Tommy — put his put his hands on Steve's shoulders and his mouth oh-so-close to Steve's mouth for a minute, a solid minute the seemed to make the noise of tiny waves of the lake go silent. But Tommy just let Steve go, mumbling a low "love is shitty, man".

Then Steve understood. God, he changed his mind for good. He knew nothing about love.

A lot of other girls happened, and it was not love. Some boys happened, and it was not love, but sure it was new. Nancy happened, and it was almost love. Yeah, but love, raw and bare love, was still far from showing up.

Out of high school and out of his peak as King Steve, he was a little lost — if not completely. He started working, gaining some money, planning a future, thinking about living his life rather than thinking about love.

Patiently, love showed itself. There was Dustin, whose smile was also Steve's smile. He was the one to first make his old persona crumble, "cause popularity was always a dumb and limitating concept anyways". Steve gave Dustin his best advices and haircare routine, and in return, Dustin gave Steve brotherhood, with it's secret handshakes and a spot kept with love at the Henderson's dinner table.

Then there was Robin, and rather than a girlfriend, Steve met his sister, half of his soul. His dawns were placed at the side of his telephone in the kitchen, telling her secrets and hearing her laugh. His closet had drawers and a whole door filled with her baggy clothes, so she'd have them in their sleepover nights — even though she's used to steal Steve's clothes by now.

Then Steve met — the correct way this time, because high school Steve was a jerk — Eddie, and it was easy to love him. At first, sure, there was jealousy. Well, all his friends loved Eddie, and he wanted to know what was all that fuss about. He was met with crooked smiles, beautiful brown eyes and a guy that was so unapologetically himself it was scary. Then, the nerdy jokes and rambles and his always flirtatious tone showed up. And with some more time, you couldn't spot Eddie without his Steve. Eddie threw himself at Steve's heart like there was a spot there with his name written on it the whole time. Maybe it was, who knows.

Steve said he didn't know love, but it was only until he was able to look at his once empty house — that his parents left for him when they left Hawkins for good —, now full of laughter and good memories, and call it a home.

Love came to him as if it was the easiest thing in the world, as if it was bound to happen. Steve figured, love is driving teenagers around even though their high pitched voices give you headaches and they leave your car a mess. Love is listening to their problems when they need you to. Love is finally learning how to make proper meals cause now you have lots of mouths to feed. Love is listening to your best friend talk about the same problems over and over and give her the same advices she gave you over and over, just cause she needed you to say it. Love is driving her everywhere because you're both scared of losing that routine, and love is still driving her everywhere even though she has a license now. Love is having company for crying sessions just like you had when you were laughing. Love is never spending birthdays alone again. Love is having a hand that will caress your back to help you sleep, with it's cold rings that always makes you shiver. Love is looking at his face and thinking about making it work, thinking about a bright, happy future. Love is forgetting what privacy is in the sweetest way possible, cause you have company in the bathroom even when you're pissing at night. Love is giving up the last piece of apple pie even though it's your favorite, because it's your best friend's favorite too. Love is receiving gifts for mothers days, birthdays, christmas, thanksgivings, or just because they felt like giving you something. Love is listening to your brother talk about his interests nonstop even though you don't understand a word of it, just because it makes him smile. Love is the stack of D&D handbooks on your nightstand with their bookmarks near the end.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #tw toxic relationship with parents #brief steve x carol x tommy because their weird open relationship is interesting #non canon compliant but that's obvious #some character analysis and headcanons thrown into this #i repeat love over and over again because steve didn't get enough of it at first #now I'll give him all the love he wants #reference to julia nicole camp's poem “a bookmark near the end” in the ending because it is very precious to me #the harringtons are not good parents but god his mom tried once #steve and robin are soulmates #it's okay to reblog #love shall find us when we expect the least and need the most

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monty-glasses-roxy · 28 days

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Thoughts~

Bonnie being angry and disappointed at Freddy when Cassie helps bring him back only for him to see the destruction and decay of his family and home that Freddy allowed to happen because of Gregory, and breaks up with him.

Bonnie later slowly starts falling in love with Proto Freddy (maybe a bit of it is Bonnie projecting but he's def falling) instead.

And Freddy can see it happening from where he is.

Gay drama~

(Long post. I went off on one lmao and can't use read mores on my phone, sorry mobile users)

Ohhh that's a fun one! Bonnie rebounding onto Protobear and after a while those feelings become real... he deserves it honestly. He deserves a happy ending after everything, and so does Protobear! Bet that's an emotional rollercoaster to get through though... That party doesn't sound fun... For them anyway. Very fun for us though! Sucks to be them!

You know what else is fun for this? Bonnie falling for whoever Freddy believed deactivated him. Freddy treating someone differently before the events of SB, and side eying them all the time, not trusting them at all because of what the must have done to Bonnie... It must have been them! They're the only one the makes sense! They're the one that made him disappear and is trying to act like everything's normal! They must be to blame! They took his Bonnie from him and won't tell him what they did or where he is! Whether he's right or not is irrelevant, if he believes it's true, he's going to want nothing to do with them! They need to stay away from Bonnie!

And now here he is. Watching Bonnie flirt with that person. Be it Monty, Roxy, Moon, Chica, whoever. Freddy finally saying out loud what he's felt he's known for a long time now, that this animatronic killed him, how could Bonnie possibly even still look at them, never mind fall in love with them after that?!

Bonnie's face falls flat. He turns to Freddy and stares him right in the eyes. "They didn't do it, Freddy." or even, "They did it to save me, Freddy. What did you do?"

Absolutely devastating. The gay drama is so good

On another note, this is making me think of Protobear and Roxy being fucking hilarious. "Hey, you wanna really freak him out?" one of them asks and they start fake dating in front of Freddy to piss him off. Like they're the most over the top, mushy couple with the most insufferable nicknames, trying so hard not to laugh their asses off, and the first one to crack loses. Everyone gets in on it. Whaaaaat?? Roxy and Protobear?? Oh they're sooooo in love so so so in love, they're not pretending, they would never pretend!!

Jskdndk they get Cassie in on it and she starts calling them mum and dad 2 and Freddy is pointedly trying to leave the room as quickly as possible, but as usual, the fucking doors aren't letting him out again. They're always on the blink now, it's absolutely never Roxy using her security clearance to play Musical Doors with him. Nope. Never. Look at their fake mushy romance boy, you can't escape.

Freddy has never been more confused and sickened in his life. He's always hated Roxy and Roxy's always hated him, this is the worst thing to have to watch ever. He's even more upset if Bonnie pretends to be their partner as well, and even more so if Roxy was who he assumed deactivated him. This is a nightmare scenario and he's being so brave about it.

Sat there trying so hard not to say a word. He's so fine. Not glaring at all. No no no, he's not staring listlessly at them, he's just trying to contact maintenance via the network, obviously. He's not resisting the urge to grimace and not wishing the floor would swallow him up right now. Absolutely not. He would never. He's so so so happy for them. Yup. So so happy. Could not be happier. Why won't these fucking doors open?!

You could apply the fake dating to Protobear and Bonnie specifically too. Bonnie's going through a rebound, and he knows it, so he stays away from Protobear for a while. He tries to take care of himself and the others are right there to help him out the best they can. When he's feeling better, he starts gradually spending more time with Protobear (who has had the situation of Bonnie and Freddy explained to him and is very understanding about it) and the two start slowly building a friendship. Slowly, so as to not rush Bonnie through anything. Protobear himself has walked away from several hangouts because he can tell that Bonnie is struggling, even if he won't admit it, they're handling this with the utmost care...

But then Bonnie, Roxy, Monty and Chica, the four that should never be trusted without supervision, get talking. Bonnie is laughing at these three clowns telling him all about how they're fucking with Freddy for fun, and let him in on some of their schemes. They're hilarious, and he would have thought so before everything happened too, even if he did think they were a bit mean at times. I mean, rallying a bunch of kids to gang up on Freddy in their Fazerblast game as a 'super secret mission' is a touch mean, right? Not anymore. He deserves it.

But then they get to thinking. Bonnie wants to try messing with him too. They bring him in on some of their dastardly plans, and come up with several new ones for him, and believe me, at this time, not a single one of them has the braincell, so you can imagine the bullshit they come up with lmao. He finds this weirdly cathartic. The ability to moderately inconvenience Freddy in funny ways is more fun than he thought it'd be. He was worried it would hurt, worried it would make him think about things too much, and while it does hurt to look at him sometimes... Well his heart is more with his friends than ever now. He feels no desire to be nice to him, or to go back to how things were anymore. He's okay now and this is what makes that real to him...

Then one day it hits him. His own plan to mess with Freddy. Completely his own, the three stooges had nothing to do with this one. It hit him when he was hanging out with Protobear and DJ. What if they were fake dating in front of Freddy? Bonnie and Protobear! Madly in love, with the most sickeningly sweet pet names and the worst pick up lines you've ever heard in your life! DJ thinks that would be pretty mean... But would get him so good, he's a surprisingly petty guy sometimes. Protobear agrees and is completely up for this, it sounds hilarious, but... is Bonnie sure he's ready for that? Is he sure he can handle that?

They think on it a bit and talk to the others about it, who think that's fucking genius but have the same concerns as Protobear. Sunny thinks it's a bit much (and he's probably right) but is very excited to play along with this. He loves playing pretend, he's where Cassie gets it from. When they decide they're gonna do it, they set a few boundaries just in case, make a safe word for if they feel they start going too far with it, and swear to eachother to call it off if it all starts getting too much... Or maybe too real.

Oh my god they have so much fucking fun with it. Protobear has never laughed so hard in his life. The others joining in, helping them pull this off, and building on the joke too make it even more fun! They're having a blast and Freddy is suffering greatly! Customer service mode can't save him now!

But after a while, things start to change. Some of the flirting becomes a little too heartfelt. The insistence that they're not actually a thing becomes less frequent. The act starts to spill over into their everyday lives. Suddenly, they're not so sure this is still a joke anymore. Suddenly, the overdramatic cuddles last until long after Freddy has left the room. Suddenly, they're starting to wonder what it be like to be together for real.

Realisation hits and oh god oh no oh fuck this was NOT the PLAN god DAMN IT

So much fun to be had here!

One more funny one: instead of just Roxy or Bonnie pretending to be with Protobear, what if it's everyone? Protobear has one giant polycule going on where everyone apparently adores him and he dotes on everyone cause he loves them all so so so much. Freddy is staring in disbelief at the 'romantic' cuddle pile Protobear is right in the centre of like this is the most normal thing in the world. It's a Plex wide competition to see who can be the most insufferable in a fake relationship and whoever cracks first loses. It's a team effort! A coordinated attack! And sometimes they actually do fluster Protobear and eachother they're all having fun!

I'd like to call this plan the Protocule :)

(Also, hi jellycreamjammedart! This is the first post I've made today so you may wanna check I've not reblogged with more additions later on. I know you get online kinda late in my timezone, or at least that's when I tend to see you around, so saying this is just in case!)

#comedically torturing freddy is my favourite thing to do it's so funny #he has this massive grip on what emotions he displays it's like he's in permanent customer service mode sometimes #watching him struggle so hard is Roxy's favourite pass time lmao #long post #pop rox answers #OH GOD I'LL REBLOG WITH THIS ADDITION LATER TO MAKE SURE IT'S SEEN #BUT BONNIE ACCIDENTALLY USING THE PET NAME HE HAD FOR FREDDY IN PROTOBEAR #AND PROTOBEAR DOESN'T KNOW SO BONNIE FLINCHES EVER SO SLIGHTLY #WHILE PROTOBEAR TURNS TO LOOK AT HIM A BUT FLUSTERED BY THE NAME AND SMILES SO SWEETLY #BUT SO UNLIKE FREDDY AND BONNIE IS MELTING ABD OH GOD OH NO WAIT A SEC IS HE FALLING OH GOD OH NO #wait is this bullying? i feel like roxy would bully him but hmm. I'll have to think on that...#maybe it's the doors specifically that's suddenly bugging me #hmmmm i dunno. anyway #i love waking up to things that give me ideas dnjdjd #now imagine proto is zags the old freddy and the confusion is rising djdnjd #to be clear freddy is unaware most of this is just them fucking around #he's suspicious of a few things but not everything #they're all very sneaky about their crimes and the vast majority are harmless and just inconveniencing #very few of them actually want to hurt him but will mess with him a little from a distance if it's funny #they would all mess with eachother before hand they just weren't sneaky about it so the whole 'getting caught' thing is all that's really-#-changed. not for roxy though. she's always fucked around with freddy specifically as sneaky as possible #was just less often before now...#I'm wondering what the scenario is here btw. how did we get to a presumably open plex that freddy is a part of?#i feel like certain animatronics wouldn't let him through the fucking door again #hmmm anyway

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cursedthingsshallwrite · 1 year

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Unslaad prt 3 [wip]

“-and then Dov dove into the hole.”

Rhaenyra attempted to curb her laughter but couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped, hand out to accept Prince Lucerys’ help down from her stallion.

“After which Lucerys laughed so hard he tripped over a rock and fell into the hole with me” Dov bowed under Lucerys’ attempt to swipe at them. “He tried to climb out on his own for almost a full hour before he gave up and let me carry him out.”

What fortitude Rhaenyra was able to drag together was subsequently destroyed in less than three sentences as she clutched her stomach and let out a full-belly laugh. Surprising a large majority of the staff secretly bustling about the Red Keep as they paused to watch the Realm’s Delight quickly redden in embarrassment. She cleared her throat and ruthlessly attempted to cull the flush in her cheeks.

She watched as King and Prince exchanged looks again, one outright smiling while the other was doing his best to keep his lips flat.

“I apologize, I don’t know what came over me.” Rhaenyra straightened where she stood, in this moment she represented the Targaryens, and therefore needed to-

“Laughter is the best medicine in existence, you need not say your apologies where no offence was taken” King Dovahkiin said softly, then louder “besides, it’s good to know that I wasn’t the only one to find the moment humorous. Lucerys keeps trying to convince anyone who would listen that the ‘Dov dove’ is hilarious. Which I will say again Lucerys, a joke is not funny if it needs an explanation.”

Lucerys scowled “the pun is hilarious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

King Dovahkiin, in their infinite grace and courtly presence, stuck out their tongue at the Prince and blew a raspberry.

Rhaenyra didn’t laugh this time, but she did crack a smile at the antics.

She wondered if this was what was like to have siblings.

Despite the levity, and the surprising rapport two royals from Dremvothkrif built with the servants, the grand dinner arranged for Rhaenyra’s official announcement as heir to the Throne was a tense affair. Officially now, the Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra sat with her father and Prince Lucerys – while King Dovahkiin was sat next to her father’s remaining side. Decidedly pushing out Otto Hightower and Daemon.

She could feel her uncle’s stare like a weight upon her brow, but somehow, she didn’t quite feel the need to return the stare, not with Prince Lucerys’ oddities set before her like a particularly interesting puzzle. The Prince had no issues dining; indeed, his table manners were impeccable and his voice polite and actually riveting as he described some of the places that were safe for people in the Shadow Lands. Certainly, she could tell there was much he was hiding, but the very way he seemed to poignantly avoid speaking of it seemed to be a quiet message to keep away from the topic without lying to her outright.

She appreciated it, the older she got the more times she’s had to sift through the lies of the court even when she was still her father’s cupbearer. “now I must ask Prince Lucerys-“ she watched as another servant delivered a plate of carefully arranged cooked vegetables and fruits, adornments of which were clearly picked off another dish before being delivered to the Prince. “-why are you receiving so many of these odd dishes?”

Prince Lucerys swallowed before glancing around and leaning towards her, Rhaenyra leaning forward just a little closer so the younger of the Septums wouldn’t have to speak any louder than a whisper.

“Dov can’t stomach vegetables” he said quietly “and usually they prefer to eat meat raw, product of having lived in the Shadowlands for so long and they don’t really have enough Valyrian blood to counter it. We didn’t want to be rude so I just try to eat what I can while Dov quickly sends over the things they can’t eat.”

“Oh” Rhaenyra looked around “I can have the servants send it away.”

Lucerys seemed to wince before smoothing his expression once more, smiling at a passing servant who quickly emptied another plate of vegetables into his. “We can’t waste food, much of Dremvothkrif’s traditions stand on being the most efficient as possible with the resources we have so throwing out otherwise perfectly fine food is looked down on, but Dov just really doesn’t like it on a personal level, bad experience with it. Normally we would host a feast with the rest of the town but…”

Rhaenyra nodded sympathetically, “Of course, would you feel better if I merely had the servants off-duty take what they can and perhaps pass out the rest?”

Lucerys smiled gratefully “that would be wonderful if you can – but ah, if anyone questions it, please place the blame on me. We appreciate you being so accommodating. I don’t want you to have to go through any ire because of it.”

“You are our guests, and of the blood of Old Valyria, it is the least we can do” Rhaenyra rested her hand on his shoulder briefly before signaling for one of her maids to whisper the order. Lucerys in the meantime did a wonderful job distracting several nobles from interrupting her, regaling stories of storms and mountains that spewed fire. It wasn’t long before she could divert her own attention to the on-going conversation between her father and the King of Dremvothkrif; listening intently as King Viserys asked questions of Dremvothkrif and the Shadowlands.

“I apologize if I come off as rude Dovahkiin” King Viserys said “but I am personally intrigued by your name, it does not seem Valyrian in origin.”

“It isn’t” Dovahkiin confirmed, choking down a well-cooked piece of hog as quickly and as politely as they could manage given the circumstances. “it is a Septum tradition actually, usually the child receives a title of sort for their deeds in the traditional tongue made up of words in the Dragon Tongue. Dovah kiin, in my case, can be translated roughly into Dragon born. My personal name is kept secret save for family unfortunately I am unable to share it. It is the opposite for Lucerys as he is of Valyrian blood, and therefore it is his Septum name that is kept personal.”

“Of course of course, I do hope you can forgive my curiosity. I have always been somewhat of a scholar, and remorse the fact that the Targaryen clan had managed to save all but the barest hints of its literature and culture” King Viserys smiled, tired and weary. Reminding Lucerys of the King the man would become in a few years’ time. “I’m glad that Dremvothkrif was so open to reconnecting, I swear to you Dovahkiin that you and yours will be treated as close as family during your stay. Ah, I have noticed you have not drunken any wine, is it perhaps not to your taste?”

Dov winced “I apologize, it is a habit of mine not to drink any liquid that is inebriating. The surroundings of what is livable on Dremvothkrif is rife with danger and beasts seeking to reclaim and expand their own territory, so I am amongst the first to respond to attacks of the like. The largest one we had was a Hydra that would have almost destroyed Graolerin a few months ago had it not been for our paranoia. I am sure the wine is very delicious.”

Rhaenyra glanced towards Lucerys and noticed that he too had not partaken in a drop of wine. Interesting.

“A hydra?” King Viserys asked, intrigued.

“A three headed beast; one head spews acid, another of flammable gas, and the third lights the gas. Furthermore, they are known for their accelerated healing and cutting off one head merely rapidly guarantees growth of two more. We try not to kill any if we do not have to, as they are the natural hunters of the dragons that call the Shadowlands home. Though they are thankfully not as dangerous when still in their fledgling ages – they usually have only the three or five heads – thereby making it easier pierce the body through to the heart.”

“That sounds…” Viserys winced “gruesome.”

“Indeed” Dov laughed “I’ve many scars to prove their danger, but thankfully as much as they are territorial, many of the established Hydras keep to their own. It is the young ones that tend to press against the boarders on the rare occasion.”

“Then, a toast to you then King Dovahkiin” King Viserys presented his cup before Dovahkiin, standing and addressing the other guests now that attention has been called for. “May my daughter’s reign be a wonderful one when she comes of age and may yours be many years still, so that the Westeros and Dremvothkrif would stand together, as allies in this harsh world. To new beginnings!”

Dovakiin politely toasted with their cup before setting it down, a boisterous chorus of echoes repeated after the King.

Talks continued, with Princess Rhaenyra and King Viserys both taking in tribute from the other Lords for her official ascension as heiress to the throne. It was around the time of the party winding down and people beginning to drunkenly find their way back to their rooms when Dovahkiin spoke again in regards to a matter outside of sharing knowledge and history.

“I believe it would be about time to present gifts of our own” Dovahkiin said, a smile quirked on their lips.

“Oh?” King Viserys looked on as two servants came forward.

“Thank you Edward, Arthur” Rhaenyra’s eyes snapped to the King of Dremvothkrif as they greeted the servants by name. Rising from their seat to walk around and help support this massive square shape covered in a black silk. Daemon had moved up the tables by then, sliding closer with a drink in his hand to the scene while the guests that remained sober lingered in interest. Whispered gossip of this new ally coming to such an event without bearing tribute suddenly halted in the face of evidence otherwise.

Dovahkiin snatched black silk off, revealing what was underneath.

Rhaenyra allowed herself to gape before forcibly shutting her jaw closed.

Presented in a beautiful frame of dragon glass and a clear pane of glass was a map of delicate detail. Carefully drawn specs presented mountains and forests and rivers while washes of ink seemed to make each little detail rise up from the parchment. The map had some age, slightly yellow with time and slight scuffs at the edges where it must have been torn slightly in some places – it would have been an insult had the work of the map not been so fine.

Even the Shadowlands, normally a jagged blob of ink on any map, was beautifully rendered and revealed a mountainous landscape with slightly darker swirls that appeared like smoke.

“I will freely admit that Dremvothkrif has not been as isolated as we would like people to think” Dovahkiin explained with a mischievous quirk on their lips. “For the past ten years we have been sending teams of explorers to assess a large majority of the known world and record them to the best of their ability, to expand on the knowledge gathered generations ago closer to the founding of Dremvothkrif and the arrival of the survivors of the Doom. This is the most complete result of our labor for now. I hope you don’t mind the lack of lettering, it is the master copy and therefore I wasn’t to add any locations until the information recorded was certain.”

Daemon was the one who spoke this time. “You made this?”

If Dovahkiin was surprised by the sudden new voice, they did not show. “I did, sort of? It’s really just a culmination of the work my people did once they returned home. But having a hand in the creation of a gift is a type of tradition in Dremvothkrif. To show one’s regard and sincerity, the gift is usually of one’s own creation. Although admittedly-“ they reached out for one of the bags held by the servants and pulled out several very old set of books covered with a deep colored leather, as well as one in black that seemed very different from the others. “this one is a bit of a cheat, it’s merely my copy of some of the books we were able to save from Old Valyria, and my own findings regarding some of the translation work.”

Dovahkiin walked over, presenting the books to Daemon, drawing Viserys’ eyes, and barely held together hysteria as it was the first time in a very very long time the older had seen his usually mercurial brother flush and in awe as he carefully reached out for the books as if they were his own children. Which might actually not be too far off actually, considering the history of Old Valyria and anything to do with the Targaryen motherland was something of a precious hobby both brothers shared.

Rhaenyra just stared unashamed, though she herself was taken aback by the gravity of what her family had just been given, what can she say? Her uncle was quite fetching in that shade of red.

“And finally, to the Princess of Dragon Stone and Realm’s Delight, to Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen” the Dovahkiin reached into a different bag, this one subtly glowing before fading back into the fabric, quicker than the eyes could catch. Dov presented a beautiful set of leather armor that gleaned with iridescent scales complete with a pair of trousers, gauntlets, and boots.

Instead of allowing the servants or maids to take it away, Dovahkiin presented the armor to Rhaenyra directly, not letting go until Rhaenyra clutched the armor between her hands. Surprised at the lightness of it all, and watching the scales shift in a rainbow of color under the light. It was then that Dovahkiin allowed others to take the gauntlets and boots, all of which seemed to be a hybrid of some sort of thick black material that seemed almost wood in texture, only select parts of it being lined with this strange leather. It was well made, and definitely created with her growth in mind – the armor having several carefully tucked and hidden straps for the ultimate ease of adjustment.

However, there was also a sword.

Bladed at one edge, it was a stretch of sword that seemed to be forged to almost look like an odd tree branch, twisted until coming to a delicate bend that met with a straight line at the back of the sword. The hilt was curved at the end with a gold pommel that had just enough space to rest a pinky within the bend, closer inspection would reveal the fine filigree carved into tiny details but not enough to make the sword particularly unwieldy. Near the tang of the blade was a sprinkle of what seemed to be rubies that shined in twinkles under the firelight, almost giving the sword a glow of its own. It would be long for her age, but in time the length would be comfortable.

Lucerys, who could recognize an enchanted weapon when he saw one, knew it fucking glowed.

The rest remained in awed blissful ignorance.

“Normally, I would have the intended wielder name the weapons I make” Dov said, voice seemingly carried by nothing more than the hush that overcame the party. “So I hope the Princess would pardon me for naming it before I would ask, the name of the blade is thus: Yolvey, the Fang of Flames. May it protect you well Princess.”

Dovahkiin manipulated the sword with nimble fingers, the metal singing as it cut through the air until they held it in front of them. The flat of the blade comfortably in the middle of their face.

Suddenly it wasn’t just a King presenting gifts, suddenly it was something else. Something more. Something otherworldly, although there was only one person in the entire room who could figure out why.

The Laat Dovahkiin closed their eyes and placed a reverent kiss on the flat of it, the blade seeming to hum before settling – before Dovahkiin walked around to kneel on one knee before Rhaenyra, blade presented forth.

With shaking fingers, Rhaenyra accepted the sword, the handle warming pleasantly under her hands – and in her mind’s eye a voice whispered beneath her subconscious.

‘Master.’ Whispered the sword.

Now given life.

^0~0^

“It might have been too much, was it too much?” Dovahkiin asked, pacing the room.

“What exactly did you enchant her sword with?” Lucerys hissed “it glowed.”

“Oh you know, if she cuts it with the right motivation it may or may not make the victim burst into flames.”

“...Dov.”

“I thought it would be useful! Plus! Dragon rider, flaming sword? I couldn’t just give her a regular sword, what was I going to do? Make the thing poison whoever it cuts? That’s so boring.”

“It sets people on fire Dov.”

Dov huffed crossing their arms. “I was an adventurer too you know, before I took an arrow to the knee.”

“But did you have to do that whole ceremony? I think my Step-Father, Mother, and grandfather might have fallen in love at the same time for a short time and I am very uncomfortable with that fact” Lucerys said, partially joking, just to see the abject look of horror on the old dragon’s face.

He took a swig from a privately acquired pitcher of wine in front of his seat at Dovahkiin’s fireplace. They had given them what looked like the near best damn room in the entirety of the keep, he was fairly certain this room had been reserved for one of his siblings at one point, but he couldn’t really figure out if it was him or Jace.

“It’s Skyrim tradition” Dovahkiin defended weakly, suddenly meek “you can’t gift an enchanted weapon like that without blessing it, I had to. Besides, your family is too young for me Drog.”

“I don’t think that’s what did it Dov.” Drog made a vague motion with his hands, deliberately referring to all of Dovahkiin. “It’s…this. Being around you can be very intense very quickly.”

“Huh.”

Lucerys blinked, moving away from his drink for the moment. “You know I meant that as a joke right?”

“No, you aren’t as wrong as you may think” Dov’s fingers twitched, a chair dragging itself from the side closer than what would have been advisable to the open fireplace before crashing in. “I just didn’t expect them to be influenced by my presence to such a degree, I hadn’t realized it would be different here.”

Dov paused before turning to the blazing fire, reaching out and arranging the wood so that they were neatly stacked. Expression contemplative before taking back their hand and patting out what cloth managed to catch on fire. “I just didn’t expect the level of magic seeped into their bones; I could hardly tell them apart from the Dov that laid within that pit.”

Lucerys leaned forward “And I’m only learning this now? What do you mean you have an influence?”

Dovahkiin shrugged. “I don’t know the exact nature of it, I only know that my presence has an effect on living creatures. They kept my body the same, so I’m uncertain if it is something they added, or it is simply a result of my age. Could also be my magic or the souls of the Dov I carry. It could even be whatever magic Old Valyria had used to bond riders to wyverns. The only thing I know of for certain is that most Dov recognize me, perhaps on some level, that bond they share with their wyverns might give them more insight than most would have normally. And when we met…”

“Arrax had died” Lucerys muttered, taking a bigger gulp straight from the wine pitcher. “And I was dead.”

Dov tilted their head to rest on their shoulder, knee tucked into the seat. “Are you going to sleep?”

“No.”

“Me neither.” Dov drummed their fingers against the arm of the chair. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Lucerys straightened “trouble?”

“Not sure yet” they said softly “I just know it’s coming.”

“Yeah” Lucerys whispered, holding the pitcher close “I feel something too. Storm. Big one.”

“Mn.”

They sat in silence for the rest of the night.

The Targaryens that called the Red Keep home perked up as a maid came in and curtseyed before them at their breakfast.

She bowed apologetically “I’m sorry your Majesty, my Lady, my Lord. Neither their highness King Dovahkiin nor Prince Lucerys were in their rooms.”

Rhaenyra frowned “did they leave any note as to where they were going?”

Thunder ominously rolled throughout the town, shuddering through the Red Keep.

“No my lady, but I did inquire to some of the morning hands and they said they had both sped out of the room near sunrise in a most urgent manner.”

Then another ran through the door, one of the watchmen stationed around the city walls, a younger recruit by the look of him as he bowed before the royal family hastily. Stopping short of crashing into the dining hall completely by the King’s guard “T-the guests- the Prince-“

“Take a breath boy” Daemon commanded “speak clearly.”

The watchman took a deep breath, lungs audibly wheezing as he did so before straightening to the young man’s full height. “At twilight his highness Prince Lucerys and the King Dovahkiin had run out and jumped off the wall.”

Rhaenyra nearly dropped her utensils. “Excuse me?”

“Something had sped past the walls and caught them, we weren’t entirely sure what to do save for raising the alarm but King Dovahkiin- they said not to and to call up however many able-bodied maester we could rouse to the wall. He- After an hour Prince Lucerys delivered two crewmembers who seemed on the verge of death. Another hour later two more. As far as we gathered, lightning had struck the main mast during the night and the combination with the storm had capsized their ship before they could make it to harbor.” The watchman took another breath “Just a few minutes ago I was ordered to report and request linen wraps to dress wounds.”

“Has the Prince returned?” King Viserys demanded.

“We saw something at a distance, but I had been sent off before it was confirmed Sire.”

Daemon rose to his feet “what the actual fuck is with these royals-“

“Daemon” King Viserys sighed.

“You can’t argue against their oddness brother” Daemon moved to walk out the door “I’m going to figure out what the fuck happened – you, get the linens that were requested.”

“Yes my Lord.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Rhaenyra” King Viserys sighed.

“You placed our guests under my responsibility Father, if they are still out there, I should be among the first to fly out for their return.”

“…very well” King Viserys grumbled “but come straight here after, I want to know what happened.”

“Yes father.”

“What in the fuck.”

Rhaenyra agreed.

“Move out of the fucking way.” The King of Dremvothkrif yelled.

Maesters and guards scrambled out of the way as the bird-like dragon dipped down in slow circles. Prince Lucerys sat behind the reigns by himself.

Which meant that King Dovahkiin was was hanging by the dragon’s talons. Daemon would be impressed if he wasn’t so damn distracted by the makeshift sling that was holding one man aloft in the dragon’s grip, a series of clothes tied in complicated knots that looked like they came out of a hodgepodge of rope, cloth, and what seemed to be two shirts that made up the handle of this strange looking sling.

The King landed on the stone wall without so much as a pause, reaching out to catch the bottom of the sling.

“Bo mulhaan.”

Daemon could feel his body freeze before he could wonder what happened, yet something in his mind whispered, ‘not you’.

Exchanging glances with Rhaenyra confirmed that she had felt the same thing.

Yet above them, the feathered dragon Rhaenyra had faced managed to hover just until Dovahkiin was able to catch whoever remained in the sling, setting them down gently onto the floor. Impressive considering whoever the man was laid wider than the foreign King was tall.

“Hi lost dreh” Dovahkiin yelled up.

“Mindoraan” Lucerys called out.

Riiziizul screeched before turning to land, Prince Lucerys leaping from the seat to land into a roll.

“Where are those fucking linens?!” Dovahkiin hissed.

“Here!” One Maester’s apprentice sped past Daemon and Rhaenyra, who stood in watch as the two royals seemed to command the chaos to heel in an admittedly admirable fashion. To the point where almost everyone present for the storm seemed to skip over their presence.

“Fascinating.” Rhaenyra muttered under her breath.

Daemon tilted his head in her direction without moving his eyes away from the scene before him.

“It’s as if they’re in battle” Rhaenyra continued “but what are they fighting?”

Daemon glanced at some of the rescued men that seemed to have glanced the touch of the Stranger. Some passed out with their wounds but breathing. Others awake and encouraging their fellows to stay awake, the few still standing was up to their necks deep in the chaos alongside everyone else. Whether motivated by the adrenaline running through their veins or the energy dragged out of them by the foreign royalties who told them to move or be moved was anyone’s guess.

There was a maniac energy in their eyes, a frenzied movement to each command with each moment of running from one injured man to another. Screamed or yelled or snarled over the thunderous storm and flashing lightning. Uncaring of wet clothes, uncaring of wet stones and the sweat that mixed with the cold rain. There were grim expressions on all the maesters of the like that Daemon had seen very few of; whatever this battle was, you’d think that everyone was racing to snatch away each and every soul from the Stranger.

“The hell are you two standing around for?!” Dovahkiin barked at them “help me hold this man down so I can set his shoulder back!”

Daemon moved forward before he realized he was doing it, and he swore he was going to get to the bottom of why that is.

As soon as he finished with whatever this tyrannical king wanted him to do.

Unbeknownst to any party, Lucerys was in a crisis.

The frantic chaos of a team of maesters, his stepfather and his own mother was bizarrely familiar. Even with the crazy old dragon ordering them around and somehow getting the two most stubborn people he’s ever known to take orders from someone who wasn’t each other or his grandfather.

Ignoring the storm was second nature to him now, ignoring the hair sticking down to his head and the wet fabric that clung to his form and made his entire body heat amongst the chill. He worked quickly and efficiently as he could afford, cleaning and wrapping wounds and carefully assessing and noting down any major injuries he could find. The years had taught him to be a passible healer, but he wasn’t quite good enough to fix every single thing.

As the storm slowly began to pass over King’s Landing, sunlight filtered through. Rain petering into a soft drizzle that washed some of the blood away into the crack of the stone walls. He wiped and cleaned and bandaged as he could, checked and double checked to make sure the man was breathing and the lungs were clear of water. Attempting to avoid looking at this man’s face as best he could until he could avoid it no longer.

High cheekbones. A handsome face with a sharp jawline that was showing just the slightest hint of beard, wet and long blond hair curled from the humid storm, one eye shut from exertion. Another that was no longer there.

‘How’ he thought, half hysterical ‘how are you here?! Why?!’

He felt someone nudge him at the edge of his mind, Dovahkiin, sensing his ongoing conflict. Pushing him back from the brink with a firm but gentle shove.

Lucerys bit his bottom lip as he carefully brushed away the damp near silver locks from his current charge’s face, fingers gently sinking beneath to assess any damage to the skull – and finding only one spot that was slightly beginning to swell. The coldness of the rain had halted some of the progress, but he could tell based on the size and location that he would be unconscious for some time.

No blood from there though, which he supposed was good.

“-ire? Sire? Does this man require anything” one Maester asked.

He shook his head “head injury and some minor bruising, he should be fine once he gets dried off and warmed. Are there any others who need assistance?”

“No sire” the maester glanced in a direction that drew Lucerys’ eye. Towards Dovahkiin who was hovering over someone’s leg, expression blank before twisting the foot back from its odd position and ignoring the howling screams of its owner. Daemon at the other side holding the man down while Rhaenyra’s brow furrowed in concentration to focus on their instruction, wrapping the splint as evenly as she could in such.

“Any dead?” Lucerys asked, startling the maester, counting the heads – what brief glances he was able to take of their ship had informed him that there should’ve been at least thirty crew members, it was a little over the number.

“N-no sire, all of them are alive, if not awake.” The maester bowed “I-I admit I haven’t- this is-“

Lucerys turned back to face the maester, rather young, maybe not quite a maester but an apprentice of one – or just someone who was misfortunate enough to have enough knowledge in the matters of medicine and healing to be dragged along with Dovahkiin’s orders.

“-why sire?” he was asked.

Lucerys blinked before shrugging. “They needed help. So we helped.”

“But they are- they’re just-“ the man tried and failed to continue his sentence, but the message was clear enough to understand. ‘They’re just sailors’, these men were just regular people. Why is it that a King and a Prince would try so hard to save them? Lucerys himself hadn’t quite realized that it probably was odd that a King and a Prince were trying so hard to forcibly drag a couple of sailors to the land of the living with so much vigor. That was just how things were in Dremvothkrif; he hadn’t realized it was so odd.

Lucerys whipped the water running down his face, the sun beginning to warm the rocks below as the whole world seemed to calm. Seemed to take a breath, a moment of respite from the chaos of the storm.

“I’m not sure” Lucerys said honestly “we just wanted to.”

He watched as Dovahkiin turned on their side to lie on the wet stone, heaving, just before laughing and yelling something into the sky in a language Lucerys had never heard before.

He laughed regardless.

Daemon and Rhaenyra, wet and damp with dirt clinging to fancy silken cloth – sat near them, looking on incredulously.

“How soon are they leaving?” Daemon hissed.

Viserys looked up to find both his brother soaked to the bone and his daughter nowhere in sight, giving leave for the King to stare daggers at his brother in question.

“Do you know what we saw when we got to the wall?” Daemon paced in front of his brother’s desk “that Prince Lucerys flying in on a feathered dragon with the King dangling off its foot.”

King Viserys frowned “what for? That dragon seemed perfectly fine flying with the two of them.”

“They were transporting some injured man” Daemon hair flew into his face as he gestured “and then proceeded to order the rest of us around like we were some sort of pack dogs and the worse part is I followed, Rhaenyra and I just fell in line like a couple of pups and I cannot figure out how.”

King Viserys expression morphed, as if the sheer idea that either Daemon or Rhaenyra would just allow themselves to be ordered around without fuss was the true horror in the entire situation.

“We can’t just send them away merely because their presence is…unsettling” King Viserys motioned towards the pile of books “they gave us anecdotal literature from Old Valyria, never mind the map and the armor. These records and books provide a clearer image of Old Valyria than we’ve ever hand in the past few centuries after Aegon the Conqueror – and this-“ he lifted up the dictionary “has been the key to understand all of it.”

Daemon sighed, dragging over a nearby chair and crashing into it. “…I don’t like it Viserys. They’re too…strange.”

King Viserys snorted “you sound like every other preacher of the seven Daemon, are you sure your coin isn’t teetering?”

At Daemon’s continued silence, King Viserys paused in his reading to really look at his brother. Watching the younger’s expression twitch every now and then, no doubt going through plan after plan after plan.

“What is this really about Daemon?” he asked softly. “I’ve spoken little with King Dovahkiin, they seem kind.” He kept an eye on his brother’s expression – tracking every twitch and minute shift of expression with an expert eye. It could have been a number of things, but as much as he wished it wasn’t the case, it has been a very long while since either of them had really sat down to talk much about anything these days.

Especially after Aemma passed.

“I don’t trust that power they wield, and I don’t trust they won’t use it to burn us to the ground.” Daemon’s fingers tended to twitch a little when he was restless, drumming against his thighs or against the arm of the chair if he wasn’t up and moving around. If Viserys remembered their childhood correctly, the number of tutors who failed to train the habit out of it couldn’t be counted on both hands.

“Have we given them reason to?” Viserys rose a brow.

“…no.”

“Do we plan on giving them a reason?”

“…no.”

Viserys nodded, leaning back into his chair. “I spoke with the maids in charge of seeing to their needs.”

“And?” Daemon snapped.

Ignoring this, Viserys continued “she said that Prince Lucerys requested a pitcher of wine and entered the room after King Dovahkiin. Inside there was no noise save for the sound of conversation, the context of which we have no idea of. She did hear, however, that they were worried for an oncoming storm.”

Daemon frowned.

“Then, two hours before sunrise, when the morning servants were beginning their duties. Both ran out of their rooms as if the Stranger himself was at their heels. Ser Westerling told me that Dovahkiin bellowed loud enough that he thought a dragon was attacking the keep. They jumped off the ledge and onto the dragon just as soon as she appeared” Viserys let that sit for a little while longer while he poured himself something to drink. “Their ways of dragon riding is mysterious Daemon, even Rhaenyra couldn’t make heads or tales of it. Only that King Dovahkiin and Prince Lucerys of Dremvothkrif spoke, and the dragon responded to it. Which means a quite a few things.”

Daemon inched closer, head tilted sideways in curiosity.

“They have an entirely different way of dragon riding, one that could not have come from Old Valyria – but they do hail from the Shadowlands” Viserys nodded to the hand drawn map encased in a frame of dragon glass, now hanging in his office. “My guess is that much of both their behaviors stem from the dangers living in such a place entails.”

“Which is..?” Daemon drawled.

“One simpler, but more brutal than ours brother. I do not think Dovahkiin was attempting to make their accolades impressive when they described Hydras, there wasn’t any attached story of some grand battle against one of the creatures. It was condensed, informative. As if I was simply being told how to get to an inn faster through a shortcut. It means that the Septum clan most likely rose to power from sheer strength and home advantage, rather than cunning. They are dragons that happen to be resting Daemon, give them no threat and they will have no reason to retaliate.” Viserys took a drink before setting it down, a smile faint on his lips. “It’s honestly rather refreshing not needing to worry about political interests or manners of the court. I can feel safe knowing that if my daughter ever were to find herself in trouble with them around, they’d sooner more likely rip heads off the one responsible than see how they will make themselves heroes in my eyes and the eyes of Rhaenyra.”

After another moment of silence, Viserys sighed and turned to stare at Daemon amidst his brother’s obsession with preparing for every little moment of potential betrayal. Not that he blamed him too much for it, after the announcement of Viserys’ ascension to King, his brother had grown twice as weary when the whispers began of Viserys being ill fit for the throne. Too soft, too cautious, not daring enough. A scholar rather than a warrior. Daemon apparently took it upon himself to be the extreme version of what everyone wanted if only to counter-balance his brother and make Viserys seem the obvious better choice.

It isn’t’ that Viserys was ungrateful for it, but he mourned the man Daemon could have been if he didn’t have to lean into his extremes.

“It isn’t wrong that you’re so weary Daemon, but I truly believe they don’t wish to pose any threat to us so long as we do not give them any reason to. If you so wish, spend time with Prince Lucerys if King Dovahkiin is too influential for your liking. I know Rhaenyra has a soft spot for the boy.”

“She what?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh stop embarrassing yourself, it’s unbecoming of you. When I asked of Prince Lucerys’ marital status, his King said in no uncertain terms that any offer of marriage to the Prince of Dremvothkrif will be declined or ignored and rudely rejected if I so much as breathed such a request. They said, and I am repeating in verbatim: ‘My brother is uninterested in such prospects’ and changed the subject. Not that you would have known considering how hard you were staring at Rhaenyra and the Prince as they talked.”

“What the- no marriage alliances? How the fuck do they maintain peace between families?”

King Viserys shrugged “When I tried to ask, all they said was ‘I tell them to cut it out, and if they don’t I drag the ones pushing the argument and throw them into the sea to cool off’.”

Daemon snickered despite himself, “if only it were so easy.”

“Yes well, I imagine there’s a very good reason they made Dovahkiin King in a land known to be the home of dragons and what other man-eating creatures also live there for a very good reason.” King Viserys frowned “I only worry that I don’t know the extent of that power. Is it magic? Is it simply strength? Resourcefulness? Perhaps all those things combined in certain combinations – I am unsure. And we won’t know unless they remain as guests for a while longer.”

Daemon groaned “so you want me to hang around the boy for information.”

“I am certain they’re more genuine than most of the people in this kingdom Daemon” Viserys deadpanned “but I like the fact that we know virtually nothing about them just as much as you do. I will pursue the thread with King Dovahkiin, can I trust you and Rhaenyra will figure something out with the Prince? And no, you cannot deliberately humiliate him or pick fights with him.”

Daemon sighed but nodded. “Fine. You really are lucky I love you, you know that?”

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s more of a curse than a boon” King Viserys muttered to himself.

Daemon scowled.

“Yes yes, love you too, now get your wet ass off my furniture.”

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#lucemond #unslaad #now featuring the rest of the Targaryen fam who I think I know of #I'll bring in the others soon enough don't worry #I just wanted to establish these two first #honestly i'm pretty sure they ooc #but yunno what you don't fuckin give ur brother an entire conquered kingdom that you originally conquered yourself and not love him a littl #tho whether that's platonic or romantic is anyone's guess #idk Daemon does kind of give me brothercon vibes from the clips #also i did insert maybe a little bit of 11's habits into this man #he really is an amazing actor #but i just wanted to give daemon something other than this looming murder cat he's got going on #just too hard to write for me #I also like to imagine that the way dovahkiin does things is really odd to this court because all of them are fuckin nobles #lucerys just has about a couple centuries worth of experience getting used to it #but if you think about it #the dragonborn in skyrim the game is pretty much a commoner #a landing owning commoner after a while #but a commoner still with the option of being murder hobo or just a person who takes job requests from people #and coming from a land where e v e r y t h i n g wants to kill you #when someone calls for help or is being attacked the usual instinct is to see what's up and kill the attacking thing first if it's attackin #but that's just how i played the game #also one the men they saved #hohohohoh #p l o t #now to murder or not to murder ser cole #idk that man gives me bad vibes i might just off him #or just maybe knock him around a lil #next time on dragon riding the drama-#if ur reading the tags here's a fun fact

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