#that is now seven feet tall

[random-bean-allie]

i stg i need to stop bookmarking fics on ao3

i literally have like a fucking billion of them just there chilling in my bookmarks. but do i even look at them when i want to read something??

NO I OPEN A NEW TAB TO SEARCH FOR NEW FICS AND READ THOSE INSTEAD

Like c'mon man

[thestuffedalligator]

The capital-P Point of Frankenstein is that the creature is a blank slate. Tabula rasa. He's an Adam who was foresworn by his creator with no understanding of the world, and has to slowly, bitterly, painstakingly develop that understanding.

It's a literary choice made as part of the grander allegory that does not need to be interpreted literally by a modern lens. Mary Shelley was writing a fiction and it's not important that it's not how bringing a brain back to life would actually. Y'know. Work.

That being said, there's untapped comedy and horror in a retelling of Frankenstein where the creature does have his previous life's memories.

[elizabethrobertajones]

HUH I just checked and Zenos is actually a couple of ilms shorter than Frog in his SB interation. SOMEONE is lying about his height in official stuff or measuring by the top of the helmet.

[gruesomejack]

I keep talking about Rabbit being bulky and I'm gonna KEEP talking about it

The best thing I ever did was give him some chub around his middle thanks

[stories-of-the-multiverse]

'Of course I'm full of rage, I've been the same height since I was seven!'

[aboxthecolourofheartache]

I think I have one (1) more Trigun Stampede thought, and it is that they were cowards — cowards! — for writing out Milly because they couldn’t handle the truth: she would pick up Wolfwood’s dumb, giant machine gun cross like a loaf of bread in one hand, the car in the other and use the cross to jack up the car while Meryl changed a flat tire. Or to swat a bug. Or get a ball off the roof for a group of children playing Space Footie. Her power was simply too great for the narrative; she transcended, she’s waiting on the higher plane to punch Knives’ teeth in as politely as possible, that wobbly core thing is going to turn around and launch a staple the size of a compact car straight into his face.

Male egos in tatters, studio execs in confused tears, total carnage on the anime front.

But like seriously, my kingdom for another living female character.

[cowboysuperhero]

oxo, aka Normal Alien (raised on earth and genuinely just a really nice normal guy), aka the oc who gave me so much brainrot for like two straight years before charlie took over

[ghoul-haunted]

robin hood, age 20, really did take one look at little john, seven feet tall, and said 'make me,' when little john told him to move huh

[trollbreak]

One thing about me is um. I’m gonna make my scary characters be silly n dumb sooner or later

[pippersmcgee]

i had such a beautiful effortless dream of new potential OCs. thank u brain. this never happens so I know I must savor it and not let them go to waste

[aesethewitch]

When I was a kid, we moved into a house that had a huge lilac tree out front. It was mostly rotten, and it needed to be taken down before it fell. It took a while, but eventually, it was gone.

Mostly. A couple years later, little lilac babies popped out of the ground in its place. My mom was determined to get rid of them, because she'd planted a beautiful flower garden there, and the lilac trees would overshadow and kill the whole garden. I insisted on saving at least a few saplings. She said fine, but I had to dig them out and put them in pots myself.

So, I did. I spent days digging little lilac bushes out of the ground and putting them into pots. Some couldn't be saved, but some could. When all was said and done, I had five brand-new lilac saplings. Seven or eight years old, and it was my absolute pride and joy.

Three died due to sun scorching, severe drought that no amount of watering could save, and perhaps just being moved from their place in the ground. But two survived, and I was awfully proud of them! I'd go out and talk to them every single day. I watered them by hand and made sure they were fertilized properly. I learned all about their favored environments, and I was determined to make sure they lived.

One of my mom's friends saw what I was doing with the lilacs. She asked if she could have one to put in her backyard, and I agreed on the condition that she take very, very good care of it.

It's now fucking enormous. I'm talking ten feet tall and bursting with beautiful purple flowers every spring. My mom still gets updates each year as they start to bloom, which she forwards to me. And all I can think is, "That's my friend! Thriving some twenty years on, there it is."

The other tree nearly died, too. It lived in a pot for far, far too long. I wanted to plant it somewhere in my parents' yard, but my mom was reluctant. Eventually, we agreed to put it in the far back garden. It grew okay for many years, despite the shade, but in all these years, it's never bloomed.

Last year, the massive tree casting massive shadows over the lilac and the garden cracked in half and fell. It tumbled into the garden, crushing part of the nearby shed and destroying a few plants beneath it.

It missed my lilac by inches.

The clean-up is long done. The rest of the tree has been cut down, and my lilac has full sunlight for the first time in fifteen years. It won't bloom this year, I know. But it's got new shoots up. It's taller than ever. I spent half an hour a few weeks ago praising it for surviving all this time, dreaming about its future and telling it how I believe it'll become the tall beauty it's always been meant to be.

I think next year, I'll see flowers.

[rider-on-a-white-horse]

Babies have more bones than adults.

Have fun with your

m a n y s q u i s h y b o n e s

I AM ALSO AN ENTITY AS OLD AS TIME. I DO NOT HAVE SQUISHY BONES BECAUSE SQUISHY BONES ARE SILLY.

[jedi-bird]

Spent an hour working in the yard this morning before the rains arrive. Had to stop because the green waste can is full again; as the weeds and grass dry out it'll compact down, so I might be able to do more this weekend. Found more trash left behind by the contractors, including floor insulation padding buried under the dirt between the trees and more broken glass. On the plus side, I think I have room for one more big raised bed, if I can find one for a decent price.

It doesn't look like I did a lot, but there's a significant difference. Most of those pots are going to have to be moved again so I can grade the area along the wall. This is just to get them temporarily out of the way. I plan to move the composting barrel over there once it's leveled, hopefully within the next few weeks.

[davinawritings]

A pussy is better than a pillow

Pairing: Male Werewolf X Female Bunny Hybrid

Summary: Bunny Hybrid wakes up hot and decides to go for a walk. She returns home to find her werewolf husband has started his rut and is taking his pleasure in her pillow.

Warnings: Smut, Breeding kink, Knotting, Overstimulation, Precum licking? If you think of more, message me and I will add them.

Word Count: 1800+

Waking up in your husband's arms was one of the best feelings in the world. Or at least it was on most days. Today you wake much earlier than you usually would because of the heat your husband radiates. Being a werewolf, he always runs hot and normally you love it but today it is overpowering and you quickly get out of bed.

You throw on his discarded shirt from last night and make your way out of your cottage for some fresh air. The sun is just starting to show over the trees surrounding your home and the air is still crisp and cool. Deciding to walk amongst the trees you can’t help but smile thinking of how far you and your husband Conall have come.

While inter-species relationships were not unheard of, they weren’t very common. It was even less common for species that were considered predator and prey. As soon as you caught Connal's eye at a bar your friends warned you that a werewolf was not a smart match for a bunny hybrid like you. They said it was dangerous and would never work but you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.

He towered over you at seven and a half feet tall. He had broad shoulders and large hands. He was covered in muscles. His face was all sharp angles and his eyes practically glowed gold. Just his looks alone had you getting wet but when he finally saw you alone and spoke to you for the first time, you thought your pussy might actually make a puddle on the floor. His voice was deep and rough, caressing your long ears in a way that almost made you moan.

He had your heart, body, mind and soul from that night on. And luckily you had his. It has been almost 2 years since you met and you are happily married. Conall had bought you a secluded cottage in the forest so you wouldn’t be disturbed and because he wanted you to be safe. He wasn’t taking any chances with his little bunny as he always told you. You couldn’t be any happier.

Realizing how far you had wandered from the house you turn to start making your way back, hoping Conall was now up. You had a lot you wanted to get done today. Conalls rut should be starting in the next day or two and you want to make sure you are fully stocked on meals. His rut lasts about three to four days and always takes the energy out of you both but you love it.

As you enter your home you begin to head into the kitchen when you hear your husband groan. Immediately you change directions and head toward your bedroom. Opening the door you feel your cunt flutter around nothing as slick begins to form.

Conall is on his knees on your bed, his huge cock is thrusting into your pillow which he has folded in half. You watch, completely transfixed and he lets out moans and groans only interrupted with growls in between. His cock has released so much precum the pillow looks glossy and your mouth salivates at the thought of tasting him.

Your head feels almost numb as his scent surrounds you. Your juices are starting to drip onto your thighs, creating a sticky mess. Your cunt clenches almost as if trying to remind you how empty it is right now and how bad you need to feel his cock stretching you open. Unable to tear your eyes away from your husband's cock you don’t even realize he is staring at you until he speaks.

“There’s my little wife. Want to tell me why my bunny wasn’t in bed with me when I woke up? Does she want to tell me why I had to resort to fucking her pillow instead of her needy little pussy, all because she wasn’t in my arms when I woke.” He says with a growl, his strokes never stopping or slowing.

It takes you a minute to formulate a response, your fuzzy brain hardly able to focus on anything except his cock. All you manage to say is, “I woke up and you were so hot so I decided to go on a walk to cool down”.

He pulls the pillow away from his cock and tosses it at the others by the headboard and with 2 long strides he has crossed the room and picked you up. He doesn’t hesitate in getting you on the bed and ripping his shirt off of you. You feel the gush of slick at his strength and dominance and even your little bunny tail twitches in excitement.

He pins you down on your back with your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he thrust his cock between your puffy pussy lips, coating himself in your arousal. He groans and says, “Did my dumb little bunny ever think that the reason I was so fucking hot was because I was starting my rut? That she was leaving me here without her pretty pussy to deal with it all alone?”. You whimper in response, barely able to focus on his words with the way the head of his cock taps your clit with each of his strokes over your cunt.

“It’s ok baby. I forgive you. I know your little bunny brain can’t think that far ahead. That’s why you need me right. To take care of you and breed you. Give you some pups to take care of and keep you occupied while I take care of everything else”. You just nod, moan, and try to push your hips up harder into him. Trying to get more friction on your weeping pussy.

He gives you a smirk before flipping you over onto your stomach. He drags your hips up and gives your ass a firm smack causing you to moan. You brace yourself on your hands as you wiggle your hips in front of his crotch, finally breaking that last bit of restraint he had. He enters you with one long and hard thrust causing you to cry out in pleasure and pain.

His thrusts are hard and fast, not giving you a single moment to catch your breath. The stretch alone is so good you cum and gush on his cock. The fast and sudden orgasm causing you to scream his name as he fucks you through every clench and pulse of your pussy, releasing groans but never stopping his motions. You whimper as you feel his knot smacking your entrance on every thrust.

Conall reaches over your head and grabs your pillow that he was fucking before. He places the pillow in front of you on the bed, before grabbing the back of your neck and shoving your face down into it. You inhale as much as you can and you are overwhelmed with the scent of him. The majority of the pillow is coated with his precum and shines in the light streaming through the window. You turn your head to the side to breathe better and feel the sticky liquid coat your cheek.

Conall gives a small laugh and growls out, “come on baby. I know my little bunny whore loves the taste of me. Stick out that little tongue of yours. I want to see you lick up all my juices that were wasted because you decided to take your little walk this morning”. You obey immediately and begin licking him off the pillow. Your pussy clenches at the depravity and even Conall moans at the sight. You repeat the action of licking and swallowing until the pillow is clean of him. You almost cry when it’s gone, missing the taste of him on your tongue.

You can feel yourself right on the edge. His thrust hitting that spot inside you so perfectly and brutally. You know you won’t last much longer when he gives your little bunny tail a harsh tug. You let out a silent scream as you are thrown off the edge. You cum gushing all over his cock and he gives one hard thrust pushing his knot inside of you and locking you both together. Conall lets out a loud growl as he begins to fill you with his cum. It goes on and on until you feel like you physically can’t take it anymore.

He moves the pillow from in front of you and lays you down flat on your stomach, all while staying locked inside of you. He lays himself over you, bracing himself on his forearms so he doesn’t crush you completely. You both take a few moments to catch your breath before you turn your head to give him a lazy kiss.

You know he will be ready to go again soon, his rut won’t let either of you rest for very long so you take this moment to just enjoy each other lovingly. As your body relaxes and melts into the bed he starts giving your floppy ears little nips with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. You let out a small moan and he smiles before gently rocking his hips down.

His knot is still far too swollen to be able to truly pull out of you and thrust back in but he gives short thrusts and grinds into you, pushing your lower body back and forth on the bed slightly. You whimper and go to move a hand down to your clit to block some of the friction and reduce the overstimulation that was setting in.

Before you could slide your hand where it was needed, your husband takes both of your hands in his and pins them to the mattress on the sides of your head. You whimper but he just grinds down harder. Your swollen and overexposed clit drags firmly across the sheets with every stroke and the painful pleasure quickly is becoming too much.

“That’s it baby. I want to feel your tight little pussy squeezing my knot. I know my perfect little whore can take it. Let me feel you baby.”, Conall says continuing his torture of your overfull pussy and abused clit. He gives another harsh thrust at the same time he clamps his sharp teeth down on your neck and your whole world explodes. Pleasure surrounds every nerve in your body as you clamp down on his knot and gush over his cock.

After what feels like an hour but was probably only a few minutes, you come back down to the sensation of Conall soothing the bite on your neck with his tongue, giving little kisses in between licks. You are still fully locked on his cock and probably will be for at least another hour. You snuggle further into his body as you start to feel yourself succumb to sleep. You feel yourself surrounded by his overly warm body once again and know when you wake up in a little bit, you are in for even more pleasure. It’s going to be a long few days and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Author's note: Hi guys! I hoped you liked the story. Let me know what you think! ❤️💕🖤

[kettlefire]

Prepare for the unexpected. (DPxDC)

Everyone knew about the reign of Pariah Dark. Even those who did not dabble in those realms have heard the tale of the tyrant. A power-hungry man who ruled over the dead with an iron fist.

Following the rise of Pariah Dark, his realm had been effectively cut off from communication. Many mystics and magic users knew better than to open the door of nightmares that could arise if Pariah Dark's reach went further than his own realm.

Except, the universe had plans to bring the realm of the dead back into the cards.

A new opponent, one that had all of Earth's heroes scrambling for options. A being with powers of a god over weather, destruction was on the horizon. A world ending threat.

It's the only reason the Justice League was doing this. In a deep bunker, far from close civilization as a precaution, the heroes looked on with grim expressions.

The world was already being threatened. It would be destroyed regardless of what the league did. So it only made sense to make the last ditch effort. To summon someone strong enough to defeat the threat.

No one wanted to do it. No one wanted to be the one to pull the realm of the dead back to the living. The consequences were untold if this succeeded. If Pariah Dark was freed and defeated the threat, whose to say he won't want control?

That was a problem for later. For the aftermath. For now, the league could only watch on with bated breath as Constantine completely the summon ritual.

They watched on as the shadows in the room seemed to darken and grow. As the sigil sputtered to life with a glow that was growing increasingly brighter. A sudden gust of wind rushed through the room, the temperature began to drop with eaching ticking second.

And then it was all gone.

The room stood perfectly still. Just as it had been moments before. Nothing changed. No giant king standing before them, no sign that the ritual worked.

The room stood deadly still for another beat before the murmurs started. The team trying to make sense of the situation, figure out what went wrong.

Constantine swore up and down that this was the correct ritual, taking offense that they would even think the problem was on his end. It only made it better when it finally happened.

A loud sound ripped through the room, pulling everyone's attention back to the summoning circle. Just in time to see a tear appear in the space above the circle.

A thin tear that ran the length of eight feet. The fabric of the dimension seems to curl at the edges, pulling back to reveal a deep glowing swirl of greens. A dark gloved hand reached through, fingers curling around the edge of the tear, stretching it even further.

A portal. The ritual had worked, but there had been a delay. A delay that had every hero nerves on edge. Each team member tensed, weapons at the ready as they watched the being stretch the portal to the right size.

Then, a foot stepped out with a heavy thud. A dark boot that looked otherworldly despite its similarity to mortal clothing. A deep black that seemed never-ending. A second foot quickly followed before a full body emerged from the portal.

Not many people in the room have ever seen Pariah Dark, let alone know what to expect. Based on what Constantine and Zatara had said, this wasn't Pariah Dark.

A man had stepped out of the portal, standing at almost seven feet tall, and built like a brick house. One glance at the glowing white hair, deadly red eyes, and shard teeth was enough to know this being was not to be messed with.

But there was no giant show of armor or royal garbs. There is no large crown at the top of his head or jewelry from the infinite realms laced around his neck.

Instead, the man stood before them in combat boots, worn-in ripped jeans, a graphic t-shirt, and a spiked leather jacket. Despite his almost normal clothing choice, the man's jacket seemed to be a never-ending depth of the dark night sky. If one was to look closely enough, the cosmos could almost be made out in the sea of darkness.

None of that would have prepared them for when the man spoke. His tone sounded more bored than anything as he took a step forward.

"Oh, so now you need the help of the dead." The man had spoken, running a hand through his hair. When Batman took a step forward to speak, the man raised a hand. Immediately commanding silence in the single gesture. "I'm on babysitting duty and have yet to have a cup of coffee. I'll be right back."

Just like that, both the man and portal vanished into thin air. Leaving behind a group of stunned heroes. Not only was the man not Pariah Dark, but he was also supposedly babysitting.

"Did that just-"

The Flash had been the first voice to speak up, his eyes trained on where the man had once stood. Except he had barely made it through the first few words before the man was suddenly back.

The man that now had a child hanging off his shoulders and another teen being held up by his scruff. Unlike the man, these kids looked human.

Too human for Bruce's liking. The dark black hair and bright blue eyes had every heroes eyes flickering to Batman for just the briefest moment.

"This isn't fair! I'm not even the king. Why do I have to be here!" The teenager had been complaining the moment the man had reappeared. Arms crossed tight over his chest and seemingly used to being held dangling. "Besides, who brings kids to a show down! Wait til I tell mom about this."

"Aw, come on, Danny. This is gonna be fun!!" The younger girl seemed in much better spirits than the teen, Danny. She had climbed up the large man, sitting on his shoulders and resting her arms on the mess of glowing hair. "It's like take your kids to work day! Ooo, Dan! Can we fight too!?"

Unlike the two kids, the man looked purely exhausted and annoyed. The man, Dan, dropped Danny like a sack of potatoes as he took a long drink from the travel cup in his hand.

It didn't take a genius to recognize the look of an exhausted parent in Dan's expression. A look many of the league members were well acquainted to. A look that even had Batman grimacing with sympathy.

"Can it, little shits. You two were grounded, remember." Dan had growled at the kids before shifting his focus back on the team of heroes before them. His glowing eyes set in a deadly glare. "Pariah Dark isn't coming, and he never will. He's been dethroned and banished. We're the best you've got."

A summoning that started with a group of on edge and scared heroes looking for the ghost king, ended in a way no one expected.

No one was even sure if it made any sense. They weren't sure if they should feel hopeful or in despair.

Because truly, what was a ghostly man with two seemingly human children against a godlike foe with the control over the weather?

The unspoken question of power and ability seemed to vanish following Dan downing the metal travel cup of coffee, and crushing it in his fist.

He tossed it to the side, straighting up his posture as he looked over the heroes. Dan might not be a hero, but he's been playing family for too long.

An almost feral, bloodhungry grin spread across the man's face, sharp fangs on full display. The look made the man suddenly look even less human. He looked closer to a demon from the pits of hell rather than the exhausted parent he looked just a few seconds ago.

"Point me in the direction of this bastard. It's been too long since I let loose and had some fun."

[controld3vil]

here we stand

pairing: jacerys velaryon x mormont!reader

synopsis: news had broken out that the throne has been usurped. jacerys rides his way to winterfell, the end to the north where he meets cregan stark. and in evidently, you, lady mormont of bear island.

notes: first of all, HE LOOKS SO GOOD w/ long hair !! also this mentions the first scene in s2 ep 1, i just tweeked a few things where now jacerys receives the terrible news days after getting acquitted in at winterfell. and bc i wished for more jace & cregan interaction >:( no beta reading btw !!

Duty is sacrifice.

All know of it. It bypasses any blood or foe. To honor one's duty is to sacrifice one's possessions. And oaths can last long over through generations. It is bypassing children and their children. It is the utmost fidelity any honorable man should know. If for the Seven Kingdoms and everyone at stake at what's beyond the Wall. A barrier that towers over seven hundred feet from what lies more gruesome than death.

Your cousin, Cregan Stark took up the responsibility as Lord of Winterfell, sometime after the passing of his father, Rickon Stark. He's a noble lad, he took upon the role at the age of six and ten. He was young but quickly learned how to command and serve the people. Much like his House's words, he understood what was coming. Though unexpected news of an envoy from Dragonstone had landed him in monetary consideration. Of what's to come with his men and the upcoming raging war.

"This is only late summer snow, my prince. In winter it will cover all you see and all memories of warmth will be forgotten." The metal chamber that brings them to the top of the Wall stops and both men walk out into the cold winter bridge. It's desolate and high in altitude.

Jacaerys could only imagine what it would feel like in wintertime, where there is nothing else but ice. "It pleases me that over a century ago our ancestors were treated in this very place. The Conqueror and the King in the North." His brown hair, inches longer, flutters past the cold air. Even with his blood, the descendant of the ferocious fire-breathing creatures, his heart still churns with a chill.

"You at least had the mercy not to threaten me with your dragon." The Lord of Winterfell smiles, eyeing the prince's reaction to the weather. No Southerner would know the true cold past summer.

The crowned prince returns his grin, looking out into the view beyond the Wall. From seven hundred feet above, everything, even the trees and people looked small. A wall that has been built this tall must offer security for what's beyond more terrifying than wildings and foes.

"While your men stand to protect against wildings and weather, the Hightowers plan to usurp my mother's throne. It is the duty of the Seven Kingdoms, and you, as Lord of Winterfell, to uphold your oaths sworn to the heir to the Iron Throne," Jacaerys gaze moves across where his eyes can take him off the Wall. It stretches out ridiculously long with men at every post. He has passed by a few to know whether or not, it was their obligation to join the Night's Watch, it was now their vow to protect this sacred place. However, he needed to remind Lord Stark of his reason for visiting. If the realm remained unbalanced, even Winterfell would not prosper.

"Starks do not forget our oaths, my prince," Cregan restates, with a look of sympathy and seriousness. "But you must know that my gaze will forever fall between the north and south. Here, in the winter, my duty to the Wall is more dire than what I ought in King's Landing. I need my men."

The prince of Dragonstone's look flickers, questionably. Until a holler from one of the watchmen signals Cregan of a visitor. He nods before glancing back at Jacaerys to dismiss him. A soft courtesy of his name before stepping down the post to greet the newcomer.

The cranks of the elevator come to a final stop. Before a pair of boots shuffle out of the old compartment to be met with the face of your cousin. Cregan's eyes meet yours in surprise and you subconsciously feel your shoulders untensed.

"Cousin,"

"Lady Mormont," He says with utmost respect as he can decipher the faint footsteps from behind Dragonstone's envoy. "What reason may you come to visit the Wall?"

"I received word that a messenger from Dragonstone came," Your bear fur coat holds you snug to protect you from the harsh winds. And your embroidered gloves, made from leather and deer fur have kept your fingers from freezing off during the trip to the edge of Winterfell. Your hands clasp together in an assertion. "Though I can already see he has arrived." Your soft stare transfigures onto Jacaerys and the sudden attention makes him slightly step aback.

Your lord gives you a playful look before turning back. "My prince, this is Lady Mormont of Bear Island. She is a close friend of mine and cousin." As embarrassed as the prince was, he could feel heat run up his spine as Jacaerys struggled to say anything welcoming.

"It is an honor to meet you, Lady Mormont,"

"The pleasure is mine," You blink innocently before addressing yet again your reason for presence. “Come, discuss matters over the fire,” 

Eventually, a week has gone by with Jacaerys Velayron’s stay. His extended stay has left questions and concerns for the townsfolk. However, Cregan reassures them, replying to them in short curt responses. In all, he explains the prince should rest before riding back to Dragonstone as it was a few days' journey from the North. This brought no rejection from either party and allowed the two boys to catch up and take into consideration the risks. 

You were always welcome at Winterfell. When you were little, your father, Lord Mormont, visited the black castle occasionally to meet with Lord Stark. The maids and servants knew you well as well as the Starks. They treated you like their own blood despite you being a distinct relative from a faraway island. Rare at times would they come to visit your home. Your homeland was not as welcoming as Winterfell some may say. Your House resided over lone shores, topped with horrific rock structures and charcoal reefs. A ruthless and barbaric landmark for the House of the Bear. 

“I appreciate your hospitality, Lord Stark,” Jacaerys starts, holding his ale cup to drink as all of the other guests gather to feast for the night. The three of you alongside Cregan’s son, Rickon, were seated at the high table, enjoying the luxurious scene before you all.

Large condiments of meats, pastries, and wine for the people, nobles of the Northmen. Feasts were something that brought together everyone during harsh times. In times of violence or sorrow, it is the shared appreciation you all must endure to move forward. That is true of what the people of the North had that no other House had. The Velaryron prince gives you an appreciative smile. “And to you, Lady Mormont, I thank you for your sincere support of my mother’s claim.”

“Here we stand,” You raise your goblet, reciting your very House words. True to what it meant, your family stood prepared for what days would come to an end. You understood one day you have a place in something greater when the moment was right and here it was now, lying right in front of you. Mormonts are known to be willing to fight even when the odds are against them. So were you when you declared fealty to Cregan Stark, your dear cousin. Your loyalty towards him would only mean you would go to the ends of the Earth to fulfill your promise. “And here we fight for the queen.” 

Despite not having Rhaenyra, her son knew she would be fond of you. Your attitude and strong integrity were something few held at King’s Landing. He acknowledged that people may not agree with his mother’s claim. However, there will always be those who still believe and support her. You are one of those people. Despite being hundreds of miles away from King’s Landing, Cregan and you showed fealty and loyalty to the oaths sworn nearly a decade ago. Some day, he wishes his mother would meet you. 

“Of course,” Cregan begins, settling his cup down, before patting for his son to come towards him. “With the men we have, it is guaranteed they’d be ready to march the earliest as of the morrow” Rickon starts off his wooden seat and shuffles to his father’s lap. A clumsy stumble and the Lord of Winterfell picks up the child with ease with a soft smile. “From there, the men will march to King’s Landing.”

“Then I should leave by the morrow,” Rhaenyra’s son places his arms on the table.

Your heart skips a half second, knowing that the time you spent together would be short-lived eventually. The prince was sent as a messenger, nothing more. His stay was long overdue, though no word from Dragonstone has the eyes of the ravens yet. It sinks to you momentarily when you place the last piece of meat into your mouth and down the last drops of your ale. 

“Yes, your visit has been short-lived,” Your cousin sighs, too aware of how the brief meeting would be over. Jacaerys was a good friend, being the same age as him, Cregan felt well acquainted with him. He had only wished that they had met under different circumstances and times. Perhaps when war wages on, they would meet again on the battlefield or after they have won against the Greens. Speculation of what was next was unknown. “But you have our support, my prince. Do not fret, we will prepare for what the Hightowers plan.” 

Jacaerys nods, understandably. He turns to you who sweetly bobs your head in agreement. How delicate your features looked in the dim ambers of the Winter halls. He’s enamored by your presence with how often he gravitates towards your direction.

He had always assumed Northern women would be different from Southerners. They were different. Northerners were divine in their way. You excluded such poise and delicacy, Jacaerys sometimes couldn’t help but become curious of you. Your hobbies, what you liked to do, what was your favorite food, and your most desired ambitions. Southerners in King’s Landing were graceful and fragile like the summer breeze. However, you were like a chilly snow cast. The cold, it’s welcoming and he constantly feels chills running down his spine whenever your eyes meet. 

“Now what do you think of the North?” Your lord light-heartedly brings up to lighten the mood. You and Cregan enjoyed the short mornings with the prince. The limited time you shared allowed for intimate discussions and a way to become acquainted with one another. The people, how things functioned, and how you adapted to the cold. It’s far much different than what he’s accustomed to in Dragonstone, where his home echoed through miles.  Compared to the North, Winterfell was exceptionally enormous but had a sense of home and warmth. 

“It’s different from Dragonstone,” The brown-haired envoy laughs, showing quite fond forever his home. “My home resides by the sea, surrounded by the high tides and rough shores. The castle is covered in obsidian stone and is known to be indestructible. My family has lived there for centuries now.” 

“How fascinating,” Your cousin breathes, showing his teeth. “I’ve heard stories about Dragonstone. Some say you can find dragon eggs deep in the mountains.”

“That is true, our dragons reside in caves. They lay their eggs in crystallized magma. Our dragon masters look after the eggs and know when the time is right to harvest them.” 

“What happens when a dragon egg doesn't hatch?” You lean your head forward, hands clasped together again. Learning about his family and their customs kept your interest for a long time. Not many Southern Houses come to visit from King’s Landing. They rather stay where it is warm and avoid the uncomfortable weather and travel to the North. Your eagerness was appreciated when Jacearys considered your question. 

“We wouldn’t know for sure when they would or would not hatch. We simply wait it out.” He quirks a gentle smile when your gaze is sort of magnetic. It’s like you were in a trance every time he spoke of anything he was interested in. 

“How long have you waited for one to hatch?” Cregan picks up his cup again to refill while his son pivots to run to the other side of the table, only to be greeted by you. With big smiles, you gladly carried the child to your side. 

“A few years,” Jacearys remembers the day well. He remembers his brother Joffrey, struggling and whining to his mother about his egg. He was as young as four, however in the first three years of his life, his dragon had not hatched. It’s a mystery when the dragon decides to break out of its shell. He was fortunate with Vermax after months of being born, his companion was right beside him from the start. Lucerys had a similar reaction. Rhaenyra often told stories of many instances of good and bad hatchlings alongside their rider. Some may not have been awakened by its rider, for they might have been dead already. The unknown enigma of those ferocious beasts pales in the prince’s head.

“It must’ve been unpleasant,” You joked, hugging Rickon tightly, having his cheek meet with yours. The young boy giggles loudly, taking hold of both of your cheeks in excitement. 

The atmosphere felt sublime and almost too perfect. Here in the warmth and formality of the Stark Household, everyone was lively and heeded no sorrows. How the prince wished upon the same for Dragonstone. If only the realm was brought together and the Hightowers had not usurped his mother’s throne despite her rightful claim. Would his family be united and happy finally?

He wasn’t sure as Jacaerys had never known familial love on his mother’s side. Both of his uncles vexed him, Luke and Joffrey. Helaena was kind, however, never showing malice towards him and his brothers. But the Hand of the King, and Queen Regent. Quiet in their schemes and distaste for bastards. 

Affection is what fills the prince’s chest with glee. As he scans the dining room of men, women, and children, they all feast and brawl over pointless endeavors. The scent of mead and hot fresh meat fills the room with chaotic laughter and nonsensical bubbling. In another time and place, Jacaerys would have been thrilled to visit Winterfell during this time of year. 

And his gaze slowly follows the wisp of your faint figure by the fireplace. With the heir of House Stark, you blow raspberry kisses against Rickon’s hot cheeks. As the boy squeals in delight, grabbing at the ends of your hair like ropes on the ship, bouncing them back and forth. You were good to Rickon, Jacaerys knows you care for the boy like it were your son. He thinks Cregan is grateful to have someone's endearment and protection toward his son. For the lack of a maternal figure had been long gone. You would be a great mother one day, he deciphers. You constantly fiddle Rickon’s hair which reminds him of his mother when he was little. 

It was such a faint memory that stuck in his mind whenever he saw you with the children. Rhaenyra would question him if she were here. Mothers had a knack for spotting things such as things. The prince knew of his interest in you. However, would you do the same if he made them clear as day?

You never said anything to him. It makes him question if you were truly interested or not. You’ve shown fondness over meals and spoke of jokes whenever he came out to the stables, where his poor dragon, Vermax, gruntled in the snow. 

“I’m sorry the farmers could not do much to help your dragon!” You shouted out one day in the early sunrise. He takes a few steps from his companion to find you in white fur coats and boots. You looked beautiful, the color suits you. As elegant and dainty as the pigment of his mother’s hair. Your locks were braided halfway with the rest, flowing down from your ears to your shoulders. “We don’t often have dragons visit us in the North!”

The prince laughs with small puffs of his breath becoming visible. “The stable boys did a fine job in accompanying Vermax.” At the call of his dragon’s name, it slowly hovers over his dragon rider. It purrs warmly in the frost as your eyes glower in fascination.

“He’s beautiful,” Your voice is nearly breathless at the size difference Vermax has over the buildings and people. It is a creature that comes far beyond your imagination and fairy tales. It's olive green scale prickle in delight as your eyes began to wonder back and forth. Dragons were rare in the North and it must’ve been a relentless recurrence for the people in King’s Landing. 

The prince hums before kicking a chunk of frozen dirt. He makes an effort to be bold for once. “Would you like to pet him?” 

You looked shook and it made him struggle to keep a composed posture. You stumble to make any words come out of your mouth. “I- May I?” 

“Of course,” The dragon rider comes forward and grabs your hand, dragging himself closer to the beast. The sudden contact and closure make your heart beat faster than anticipated. As you find yourself glancing up at its reptilian eyes. In horror, you hold your ground, wanting nothing more than to back away. “It’s alright, he won’t hurt you.” 

Jacery’s reassurance doesn't comfort you as you resist his grip on your wrist. Vermax merely stands, grumbling in curiosity as to your stricken presence. It’s trying to inquire about your anxiety when it was the reason for it in the first place.

Taking a short take of air, you stand in place. You did your best to calm your breathing, feeling a hand on your lower back to support you. Your dainty eyes meet the prince. And within contact, it felt as though you felt everything would be alright. His touch soothed your racing heart as you excelled forward, step by step closer to the beast. For you, it must’ve felt like the clock had slowed down when you were merely inches away from Vermax. Its enormous size was breathtaking and you could make your lungs free of oxygen again. 

Yet your state of mind returns when the queen’s heir comes into view. The air felt a tension between fear and anxiety. It was both exhilarating and terrifying for someone who has never seen a dragon up close before. You took the last big step when you lifted your fingers above its nose. 

Vermax shivered and at the last minute, you wanted to back out. Until Jacaerys hand envelopes over your hand to pet his companion. With such care and attentiveness, you should have realized the prince’s advances towards you by now.

The Godswood was a welcoming pastime you’ve grown to respect. With the decline in visits, you’ve come to value the historic tree for what it stood for and the ancestral value it had over your people. Cregan did not mind whenever you went away to pay your respects. He knew how important it was to you to respect the old gods and the new. War was coming. If you were going to support Rhaenyra, you only wish for your men to come out victorious. 

You were no war-picking woman. But death was something you’ve come to accept recently. The passing of Rickon Stark brought a hole in your heart. You mourned in your ways, and so did Cregan when you had heard he had taken the mantle as Lord of Winterfell. He still is a young man, barely over six and ten. The best you could do was offer your presence and time. To him, being present with the people and acting lively was enough for him to regain his mind. Everyone looked up to Rickon for what he stood for and the House. There is no doubt Cregan would do the same in the coming time to King’s Landing. 

“It’s saddening, isn’t it?” You breathe into the crisp air, only to feel your throat grow dry. But the person behind you knows you were referring to them. “How war affects us all.” 

The prince of Dragonstone steps out from the shadows. His steps were slow and gruff, still worn out from the feast and the massive amount of ale that was offered to him. But you were the only thing that had piqued his interest. You were quiet, not expecting an answer from him. Until he stepped and stopped right beside you, shoulders nearly touching but inches apart. Your bear coat was held loosely on you as he recalled you too struggled to leave the dining table. You all drank too much tonight. 

“The Godswood know of it all. They see everything,” The bear bronze sigil shines past his peripherals when he cannot meet your gaze. You were not drunk enough to do something reckless but not too sober to do anything either. 

In return, all you could ever see was Jacaerys furrowed expression. He’s contemplating something. But you choose to stare and take in his features with such interest and curiosity. His soft and tranquil pout resembles much of a wolf you’ve seen. As though his curly strands, which you would imagine, are dim to the touch. The prince holds assertiveness in his duty, falling into the role of heir as for his queen. Perhaps he’s everything that his mother stood for. You admired it. 

“Know you and your men's contributions would be known,” He whispers, it’s clear you could feel his breath close to your neck. The dark clouds could not even hide the indisputable truth. The crescent moon gleams somewhere in the far distance you can’t seem to find. But you know what’s true. Because moments ago, you could discern his distance inches away. Now it seems that he wants to close the gap by the second. “And that…”

“That we did our duties, nothing more.” You pant, unable to keep your eyes from moving from his gaze and lips. Strands of his dark brown hair trickle against your cheeks as you take one last glimpse at your prince. If any of this was acceptable. You wouldn’t exceed further to know he’d reject your proclaimed assumptions. 

But nothing happens. It was as though the chill in the air had changed. When another figure reappears out of the shadows and into the light. Jacaerys distances himself from you. While you did your best to compose yourself for being caught red-handed by a servant boy.

“My Lady,” The innocent boy chants, as he holds up a scroll. “A message from Dragonstone.” Jacearys’s eyes shot up as you were given the letter. The moment you give the signal of approval, the servant boy leaves into the abyss and back into the cabin. 

You unlatched the curly paper and patiently read its contents. The prince carefully awaits, every so longing to catch any misdemeanor you would have upon what letter had. He hopes and wishes it is good news more than anything. But you held a stone-cold expression and when you looked up at him, he could only discern sorrow with the words that come out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, my prince.”