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old-archivist · 2 years

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Foods of Thedas: Raw Ingredients

These are all the canonically mentioned raw ingredients. By that I mean Ingredients that don't require processing like caramel, dried or salted meats, or jam. But the ingredients that go into making such things. As with the previous posts, I didn’t include any of the potential items that could be used, just to prevent confusion should you go looking for the source of any of the items on this list.

For Additional Food Posts

Dishes, Sauces, and Sides

Drinks

Prepared Ingredients

Cannonically Possible Foods and Drinks

Master Post

Fruits, Mushrooms, Nuts, and Vegetables

Edible Plants

Fern Fiddlehead

Lichen

Moss

Pungent Leaves - Unspecified leaves used in Avvar cooking of baked fish.

Rose

Rose Petals

Rosehips

Stripweed

Sugar Cane (Tevinter, Rivain)

Wildflowers

Borage

Chicory

Dandelion

Honeysuckle

Violet

Fruits and Nuts

Apple

Applewood Apples (Orlais)

Golden Apples (Orlais)

Green Apples

Le Pomme Vie et Morte - Apples that grow by the gallows in Val Royeaux.

Red Apples

Windfall Apples

Apricot

Banana

Par Vollen Banana

Rivain Banana

Berry

Blueberry

Cranberry

Elderberry

Raspberry

Strawberry

Caper (Antiva)

Cherry

Cocoa/Chocolate (Donarks)

Coconut

Coffee (Antiva)

Currant

Black Currant

Date - A purple and red fruit with a pit, it has a sweetness and tangy taste. (Tevinter)

Fig

Grape

Lemon

Lime

Nuts

Almond

Chestnut

Pine Nut

Olive

Antivan Olive

Orange (Orlais, Antiva)

Passion Fruit

Peach

Pear

Plum

Pomegranate

Pomegranate Seeds

Grain

Barley

Pot Barley

Oats

Rolled Oats

Rice

Ryott

Ryott Flour

Wheat

Wheat Flour

Whole Grains

Whole Grain Flour

Mushrooms

Deep Mushroom

Field Mushroom

Unspecified Fungus - Used to brew Dwarven ale.

Truffle

Unnamed Glowing Fungus

Wild Mushroom

Vegetables

Beans

Bush Beans

Green Beans

Pale Beans

White Beans

Cabbage

Carrot

Purple Carrot

White Carrot

Celery

Chive

Corn

Checkered Corn

Golden Corn

Yellow Corn

Cucumber

Eggplant

Fennel

Lettuce

Mustard

Onion

Red Onion

Sweet Onion

White Onion

Pea

Pepper

Antivan Pepper

Green Pepper

Hot Pepper

Hot Red Pepper

Red Bell Pepper

Sweet Pepper

Potato

Radish

Spinach

Squash

Marrow Squash

Pumpkin

String Squash

Tomato

Turnip - aka navet

Turnip Greens

Wild Greens

Animal Products

Dairy

Butter

Cow Butter

Goat Butter

Halla Butter

Herbed Butter

Nug Butter

Cheese

Ativan Smoked Cheese

Blue-veined Cheese (Orlesian)

Brie Cheese

Brined Goat Cheese

“Dalish” Cheese - An ill described item as it is unclear if it is actually cheese. One thing is for sure it isn’t Dalish.

Feisty Cheese

Goat Cheese

Halla Cheese

Pecorino Romano (Antivan)

Ram Cheese

Cream

Spiced Cream

Thickened Cream

Whipped Cream

Milk

Cow Milk

Goat Milk

Halla Milk

Ram Milk

Soured Milk

Eggs

Caviar

Chicken Egg

Egg Whites

Egg Yolk

Fish

Carp

Cod

Eel

Krone

Lamprey

Mackerel

Mussel

Oyster

River Herring

Sunfish

Trout

Whitebait

Insects

Cave Beetle (Dwarven)

Giant Spider (Dwarven)

Scorpion

Snail (Avvar)

Wood-burrowing beetle larvae (Dalish)

Meats

Beef

Ox-tongue

Rump Roast - A cut of meat from the hindquarters

Veal

Boar

Bronto

Cat

Deepstalker (Dwarven)

Dog

Dragon

Druffalo

Goat

Gurgut

Gurn

Halla

Hare

Hart

Horse

Liver - General name given, animal isn’t specified.

Lurker (Avvar)

Nug

Phoenix

Pork

Pig's Feet

Pork Hocks

Pork Saddle

Quillback

Rabbit

Ram

Rat

Sheep

Lamb

Mutton

Varghest

Venison

Wandering Hills (Anderfels)

Wyvern

Poultry

Bunting

Chicken

Dove

Duck

Partridge

Pheasant

Pigeon

Quail

Swan

Turkey

Misc.

Dragon Blood (Nevarran)

Druffalo Dung

Honey

Honeycomb

Miscellaneous Ingredients

Baking Ingredients

Ash

Elfroot Ash

Hardwood Ash (Dalish)

Baking Powder

Yeast Cake

Salts

Fine-ground Salt

Rock Salt

Salt

Sea Salt

Others

Brine

Clay (Avvar)

Pine Pitch (Alamarri)

Herbs and Spices

Herbs

Basil

Dried Basil

Bay Leaf

Catsbane

Elfroot

Elfroot Leaves

Royal Elfroot

Lavender (Orlesian)

Mint

Anderfels’s Mint

Foxmint

Peppermint

Oregano

Dried Oregano

Parsley

Prophet's Laurel

Rosemary

Spindleweed

Verdant Spindleweed

Thyme

Spices

Allspice

Anise

Antivan Cord-seed

Cardamom

Cinnamon (Seheron)

Clove

Cumin

Cumin Seed

Deep Mushroom Powder (Orlesian and Dwarven)

Dill

Dill Seeds

Dragon Blood Powder (Nevarran)

Eastern Spice - Unnamed

Fennel Seeds

Garlic

Ginger

Dried Ginger

Hot Pepper Powder

Hot Red Pepper, Crushed

Juniper

Licorice

Mace

Mustard

Mustard Powder

Mustard Seeds

Nutmeg (Seheron)

Grated Nutmeg

Pepper

Black Pepper

Peppercorn

Black Peppercorn

Poppyseed

Saffron

Spice Ball - A variety of mixed spices wrapped in a cheesecloth

Star Anise

Vanilla (Rivain)

Sources: ( If you want to find direct links or page numbers check out the wiki’s Food and Ingredients page.) Dragon Age: Origins (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: Awakening Dragon Age 2 (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: The Last Court Dragon Age: Inquisition (Base, DLCs + Multiplayer) Dragon Age Tabletop RPG Core Rulebook Dragon Age Tabletop RPG: Blood in Ferelden Dragon Age Tabletop RPG: Game Master's Kit: Buried Past

World of Thedas Vol. 1 World of Thedas Vol. 2 Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne Dragon Age: The Calling Dragon Age: The Masked Empire Dragon Age: Last Flight Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights Short Story: Paper and Steel Short Story: Paying the Ferryman

DAO Codex Entry: Feast Day Fish Codex Entry: History of Soldier’s Peak: Chapter 3 Codex Entry: In Praise of the Humble Nug

Codex Entry: A Tattered Shopping List

Item: Abyssal Peach Item: Brandy Item: Carnal, 8:69 Blessed Item: Mosswine Item: Rare Antivan Brandy (Gift) Item: Sugar Cake Item: Sun Blonde Vint-1 Item: Wedge of Destiny Item: West Hill Brandy

DAII Item: Dragon’s Blood

DAI Codex Entry: On Avvar Cuisine Codex Entry: Bottles of Thedas Codex Entry: The City of Starkhaven Codex Entry: La Pomme Vie et More Codex Entry: Mad Emperor Reville Codex Entry: Plant vs. Corpses Codex Entry: Ram Codex Entry: A Scholar's Journal Codex Entry: Spindleweed Codex Entry: Surviving the Western Approach Codex Entry: Waterlogged Diary Note: Betta's Travel Journal Note: The Gilded Horn's Drink List Note: Knight-Captain's Orders Note: A Note from the Skyhold Kitchen Note: The Rusted Horn's Menu Note: Scribbled Note Wartable Mission: Inspire Wartable Mission: Plant Crystal in Venatori Headquarters

Last Court Cards Atop the Tower of Lights The Elegant Abbess Flames of Freedom The Glassblowers' Anger Go Hunting Good Neighbor The Next Course The Purveyors of Tea Thieves! An Unofficial Meeting The Wyvern is Cornered

Like this stuff? Wanna support the blog? You can check out my ko-fi.

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alienturnipp · 5 months

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Hello. I wanted to say that i've been following you for some time and i find your Vietnamese Clothing for DA characters stunning. They are so beautiful and you drew them perfectly and with a style that not only make sense (for example inspiring Bethany circle robes to those of a religious order) but they are also in line with the character original style. So... it's amazing!

Thank you so much! And I'm glad you enjoy the behind-the-scenes details; those little aspects often keep me up at night, since there are aspects of the Thedas worldbuilding (especially DA2) that are quite tricky to translate to/express with Vietnamese culture. I try to embrace imperfections whenever I can, choosing which aspects about the characters to highlight and which to let loose, and yet it still took me more than a year to finish Merrill's design 😂

I realized I never drew my Vy in this AU, so here are both of my Hawkes in a picture together, with their Vietnamese names. Cirilla becomes Trác Lạc (逴躒 - roughly translated into "having outstanding abilities"), as his father wished for her to be heroic and capable, and Vy becomes Tường Vy (薔薇 - climbing rose), as Leandra wished for her to be noble and resilient.

(And yes if you send me an ask for this AU I will draw/post new art for this AU 🙌)

#alien turnip's art #alien turnip's ocs #DAvietphucAU #vy hawke #cirilla hawke #hứa trác lạc #hứa tường vy #dragon age #da2 #hawke #alien turnip's asks #harryblue #also i recognize you!! thank you for sticking around since pretty much the beginning of my blog 🫶#a side ramble - i'm not sure yet about how faithful i can stay with vietnamese naming customs given the DA setting...#but since they were born daughters in a poor family #these cooould probably be their birth names/tên huý and not their courtesy names/tên tự #i wonder if they will name themselves differently when they take back the Amell mansion but HMM food for thought #or if they would be given tên tự when they were poor anyway because both leandra & malcolm are proud mtfks #even so these are pretty posh words for birth names tho...#which is expected if your mother was a noblewoman and your dad was a scholar/circle mage

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lynxfrost13 · 3 months

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SKYWINGS

PHYSICAL TRAITS

Skywings are the biggest dragon breed due to their great height and additional wingspan. Tall and lanky, these dragons are accustomed to life at high altitudes, with many living in mountainsides and other rock faces. Their wings and claws are built for gripping the rough stone of their homeland. Skywings have an incredibly strong grip that is also very effective when hunting prey.

At the base of the skywing skull is where the main horns grow, with a base growth plate being protected by an upturned part of the skull. From this original plate horn segments will grow off of the base or each other with age. Skywing horns never stop growing until death. Additional facial horns grow in a similar fashion as the skywing matures, with hatchlings displaying bumps where the most prominent horns will come in. With age these dragons tend to grow more elaborate scale patterns and horns, with chin spikes/ridges, eyebrow, and cheek ridges being the most common.

As hatchlings, skywings have no underbelly scales, and the scales they do possess on their backs are incredibly soft and flexible. Hatchlings break out of their well protected shells with an egg tooth that falls off a few days after they break free, and it’s typical for heavier facial ridges to develop where the egg tooth was. Skywing hatchlings cannot produce fire of any sort until they reach a few years of age, around when their scales harden and fill in the underbelly area (roughly 3-4 years).

The fire produced by skywings is the hottest of any dragon breed, which could cause serious damage to any dragon’s body due to the heat. To combat this, skywings evolved to have cooling vents on their necks. Several flexible scale plates can open up along each side as the dragon breathes fire, allowing for excess heat and pressure to escape without harming the dragon. To help cool their mouths, skywings also have two additional sets of “nostrils” that serve the same purpose. Despite the common misconception, skywings cannot smell from these sets of nostrils, and their overall sense of smell is average.

CUSTOMS

Skywings have a huge culture around the upkeep of their horns, since they never stop growing they do need maintenance. What began as simple horn trimming ages ago grew into much more. Skywings style their horns in various different ways, and trends in style pop up here and there. Horn painting and carving is common, but there are a wide variety of modifications that skywings apply to them as well. Jewelry is popular, but draping horn jewelry tends to be avoided since it can be a hassle in the air. Overall jewelry and body decoration is incredibly popular, with skywings using light metals, beads, and fabrics in everyday wear.

Skywing cities are situated in cliff faces or mountainsides. These cities hold huge terraced gardens, ensuring that their citizens have a local spot to gather food. It’s also common for most skywing homes to have their own personal gardens, whether decorative or for additional food. These cities tend to have few walls, they’re not needed due to natural protections such as the altitude and surrounding mountains. The Sky Palace was the only city to be heavily fortified under Queen Scarlet, while the rest remained as they were. The openness of skywing cities has also made the ones along the borders into large trading hubs with lots of intermingling.

Skywings refuse to eat birds of prey out of a deep respect for them, as well as a belief that when a skywing dies, the part of them that remains on earth becomes one of those birds. To honor their memory, skywings hold an annual weeklong celebration in the spring, celebrating the births of new hatchlings (both dragon and avian) where they compete in racing games and the like. Their love of festivities has led to them adopting from mudwing culture, and in recent years they have even begun to adopt their own version of the bard, which is more focused on the storytelling aspect rather than the history.

#my art #wof #wings of fire #skywing #wof art #artists on tumblr #digital art #dragon #dragon art #art #my writing

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mrsrookhunt · 10 months

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hi, hi! could I ask for pt 2 of the twst "what to expect when your lab experiment drinks formula," I just thought it was rlly cute!☺ you can do any sort of characters, I don't mind!

What to Expect When your Lab Experiment Drinks Formula Pt. 2

Hihi! Actually, I wrote that scenario for all the characters in twst I'm writing for right now (I'm new to the fandom), so I've gone ahead and made this into a followup on how they're doing as parents, hope you don't mind! Thanks the ask!

Warnings: Mild Chap 7 spoiler (Lilia), Rook & Floyd want so many kids your house is going to look like the 100 baby sims challenge.

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Part one! Rook Hunt! Part Two (here), Part Three!

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Malleus Draconia

Malleus is running wild with the new heir. As much as he loves you, so much of his time is occupied by playing with his baby that you don't even see him around as often as you used to.

Your new baby is named Ormr, an ancient name directly meaning 'dragon'. Malleus pouted for a bit that it didn't start with 'Mal' but you assured him that it could be a great fresh start before the Draconia family ran out of names.

While you were still a bit disoriented by the strange circumstances, you were adjusting just fine to being a parent. Your little one kept you on your toes, breathing fire onto your homework when you weren't giving them enough attention and flying away with your food when Malleus taught them how to fly short distances.

Get out the broom. There's a dragon baby with a pb&j on the ceiling.

Malleus' love of your child surprised you a bit. Though you had known that he had technically set up the entire creation of the child, you never expected for Malleus to take so strongly to the little dragon fae.

To be fair, the entirety of Briar Valley seemed to rejoice at the news of your little one, so you supposed that your child was more important than it would be to a normal family. This was the continuation of his bloodline, without posing any risk of losing you, his favorite Child of man.

It was perfect, a blissful life together.

Malleus is constantly supportive of you and works hard to be both a father and a partner. He never fails to make your family feel loved and connected, even in trying times.

Rook Hunt

Rook's baby is... Rook's baby.

The little creature is mischievous, even for its young age.

It may not be able to crawl, but provided anything of importance is in its general vicinity, it will be swiped, hidden, or destroyed with an innocent giggle.

Rook manages the child much better than you. Although you love your child to death, they seem to have inherited Rook's predatory mind in their entirety, and it makes Rook far more equipped to handle the baby's demeanor.

When you look away, you'll most certainly be hit with the first thing in reach of your little one. You blame Rook for this, who reveled in showing them documentaries on hunting through the ages from birth.

Soon, it's more complex weapons. Sharp rocks from your trip outside to play have somehow become entrapped in a very deliberately tangled slinky and thrown at the back of your head.

You know it's all in good fun between Rook & your little one, but your baby will be as skilled a hunter as Rook someday. He was not wrong to call your child his little hunter from the moment it fell into your arms.

Rook wants a large family, so you'd better be prepared for lots of little predators running around the house. Good luck trying to keep them from attempting to murder each other.

Extra: Rook is the type to remember that recipe to a tee. If you so much as mention having another child, ten more are going to show up the next day. Honestly he's waiting for you to slip up and mention it. He's absolutely in love with your family, and would be overjoyed to expand it. Best of luck to you.

Floyd Leech

As soon as you were asleep that night, little child snug in a makeshift bassinet next to you, Floyd was already sneaking out to create more children.

You woke up to six more on the bed with you, one of which woke you up directly by biting you for attention.

Overall you've had much trouble managing all the little literal ankle biters. If it weren't for the liberal help from Jade, Grim and Ace, you would not be able to manage all seven.

However, this does not stop you from loving them entirely. The babies love you to death, and you're extremely bonded to them as well. When you and Floyd fight, there's suddenly seven growling creatures lined up behind you, at the ready to attack.

Despite being 110% like Floyd, they are very certain in their favoritism. Two of your children refuse to have him nearby at all.

He claims it breaks his heart, but you catch him praising your little ones with frozen grapes and soda to reinforce their bond with you.

Definitely not what a baby should be fed but when you said they couldn't eat seafood he switched gears to 'land food', and would take no further criticisms.

The best times are cuddle nights. Twice a week, all of you cuddle up in your Ramshackle dorm room and cozy up to a movie and snacks. This continues until well into their childhoods let's be honest. It becomes a Leech family tradition.

Sebek Zigvolt

"Human! Get it! GET IT!!!"

Your baby is very adventurous.... or something close to it.

Always tumbling off furniture and rolling off changing tables, or falling down for some reason or other.

You can have ten sets of eyes on this child and it does not matter, this baby will stubbornly look into your eyes and throw itself off the couch.

There's so much chaos, constantly, when it comes to little baby Zigvolt.

Sebek's excellent training is the only reason that your child has not been hospitalized for concussions.

But his excellent training has not saved him from the baby's love of biting their father. So, so many times. Every time Sebek catches it.

Chomp.

Every time he bathes it.

Chomp.

Everytime he changes a diaper.

Chomp.

Sebek is covered in tiny little baby bites.

But oh, how your baby adores you. In between bouts of defiance and finger-snacking moods, your baby loves to lie in your arms and cuddle.

It's arguably the most comfortable time you get with Sebek and your baby.

And I do mean arguably, because Sebek swears up and down that the baby is happiest in the presence of Malleus, and it's a hill he's willing to die on. But you know he really just wants an excuse to show off your baby to Silver.

Silver is not impressed.

Your baby is the very definition of a headache to Sebek. They cry everytime they see Malleus, they hate any sort of regimen, they love to play and play and... play more. All day long. No work or training to be seen here, baby Zigvolt will NOT be having it unless you want 4 hours of ear-splitting tantrums. And the baby still won't do the work when they're done.

But still, you see Sebek in every aspect of your baby. The strength, the way your child loves you unconditionally, but treats everyone else cautiously, and overall, the refusal to do anything that doesn't align with their little baby whims.

You've lovingly termed your baby 'Stubborn Ziggy the Second'. Sebek is not a fan, but he allowed it after you let go of 'Swamp dog & Swamp puppy'.

Lilia Vanrouge

screaming.

And more screaming.

It is not the baby. It is you trying to find the baby.

"OH MY GOD I LOST IT, I LOST OUR BABY OH MY GOD---"

And then--

"Weh!" The baby pops its head out of a cabinet with its hands up the way Lilia does to scare them.

The baby giggles and coos at its own joke, making grabby hands while it waits for you to come get it.

You're just dumbfounded. You're going to have to scold Lilia, because now your little one is picking up on yet another one of his pranks.

Your baby is a lot like you, with one exception-- your baby is so playful and teasing that it honestly gives The Great Lilia Himself a run for his money.

Last week, you were frantically searching for an expensive piece of jewelry, when it dropped down on your head from the spot where little baby Vanrouge was apparently levitating it from.

Oh yes, your child's magic is coming in strong. Though Lilia's is fading, you tease that perhaps the little one is just absorbing it from him outright, showing him videos of your child's most recent magical displays of strength.

Your family bonds through jokes and playful faces, entirely. Lilia is probably a candidate for The Worst Parent on Earth, so you do most of the housework. It's not like Lilia's never offered, it's that you promised Silver not to let Lilia traumatize his little sibling. All of your best moments are spent by making space in your schedule for your family time.

Lil Vanrouge needs all your love, and Lilia Vanrouge does too. It's a fine balance between upsetting either of them, though dealing with hours of screaming and petty annoyance is not a hard decision.

Just make sure both are getting enough cuddles, and maybe don't judge growing-up lil Vanrouge when they decide they love gaming...

Azul Ashengrotto

Don't forget about Azul, please.

Your baby has the chubbiest cheeks and the cutest smile, but is it as cute as Azul? Cuter, probably. But don't tell him that.

Azul loves your child with all his heart, but he's a bit miffed that it requires so much of your love and attention.

You and baby Ashengrotto are very bonded, so it's rare to see you apart for a moment. And in that moment... Azul is putting on Full-Drama Mode. Cuddles, cuddles. More cuddles. Give him a kiss. Could you please take a bath with him? He's just so tired, he doesn't think he can take a bath by himself. Would you mind giving him a massage? You're too tired? That's ok, you scratch his back and he'll scratch yours. He's not too tired after all. He'll give you a massage.

Your little one is so much like their father, wanting all the attention and love in the world, but getting the priority treatment. Little baby Ashengrotto is Octavinelle's favorite thing ever. Everyone just wants to love on them and see their cuteness.

Azul was going to charge people to see them until you put your foot down and said no.

Azul knows how precious his child is. Secretly, he does want another. Two, just for a healthy statistical number's sake. But he won't tell you that. He's trying to come to terms with the shift in attention with one tiny octomer right now, maybe waiting a couple of years would be more optimal. He will never admit that he's jealous of your child, but claims that he's 'working through his issues when you bring it up.

But Azul will always prioritize his baby as well, even if unintentionally. In the end, the wellbeing of his family comes first and foremost.

And maybe showing off mini-mer to the Mostro lounge staff.

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piratefishmama · 5 months

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There was just something magical about a good Renaissance Faire. Something in the air that set Eddie’s little crow brain alight with excitement. Especially around December when Christmas loomed around the corner and snow dusted the ground.

Be it the shiny trinkets dangling from wooden hooks amidst the old wooden stalls, be it the haggling voices of stall vendors and customers, all dressed in garbs they’d likely sewn, dyed, modelled themselves, the smells of the food stalls, the glow of twinkling fairy lights reflecting on the snow, the music played on lutes and sang from haybales for gathering crowds, be it the energy of likeminded folks all there to be a little bit weird, joyously, freely, without shame or judgement.

He could be himself there.

Dressed to the nines in layered fabrics purposefully aged and torn to simulate era appropriate wear and tear. His hair held silver trinkets, tied up by lengths of dark fabric in a messy up-do that’d taken Wayne a good few hours to figure out, and would no doubt take them both a hell of a lot of huffing and puffing to remove without cutting it out later. He had a cloak made out of a thick set of curtains he’d thrifted, dyed, and repurposed.

He had his bag, something he’d sewn himself out of extra fabric from those curtains, made with plenty of little pockets and places to put his spoils, he’d saved up for months to get as much out of this faire as possible because things weren’t CHEAP there.

Most things were handmade, most things were lovingly crafted by gifted individuals. He didn’t even want to haggle, he had money specifically for the faire! He was going to spend money on the endlessly talented individuals at the faire!

He got himself a new journal, leather bound with thick blank pages for sketching in. it was embossed with intricate swirling patterns around a pentagram that he’d absolutely get shit for if he ever pulled it out in public but it was beautiful, and it had a cool swing lock clasp.

He got himself a pretty necklace, wire wrapped with a fancy gem that he’d keep safe to use as a prop at some point.

He found some beautiful homemade dice, made in such a way that it looked like liquid moved inside of the dice, little flecks of glitter sloshing around a cloudy liquid inside the green tinted gold leaf inlaid resin with every roll, beautiful, eye catching, immensely satisfying to his little crow brain. Surprisingly enough they were the most expensive purchase he’d made at the faire, tiny little dice, fifty whole dollars. Not the most expensive thing he’d seen there, but definitely the most expensive thing he now owned from the trip.

They came with an incredibly pretty velvet dice bag though, which he hadn’t expected to get as a little freebie but the girl at the stall winked at him when she handed it over and wasn’t that a trip. The fabric was dyed to look like some kind of galaxy, with little silver and gold stars embroidered into it.

It made those dice a steal and he would treasure it and them, always.

He perused the fabric stalls, getting himself a cool hand painted scarf, detailed with a beautiful dragon that he’d find a good frame for later to hang up because it would not be worn, no siree. He grabbed a cool hand carved wooden mug for Wayne that looked like something straight out of a Viking’s mead hall, he’d give it to him for Christmas.

He got himself some food. He watched a joust, got a photo with the riders and their horses, one of which tried nibbling his hair, tipped the riders, and very quickly found himself running low on cash.

All that scrimping, and saving, and dealing… worth it. So very worth it.

So sue him if he looped back around and walked through again, he couldn’t afford much of anything else, he’d spent his last ten spot on a fridge magnet, had five left for gas station snacks on the way home, but that was fine, he could take photos, he’d borrowed Gareth’s camera, Gareth would have come but his parents had one stipulation for him attending the faire, and that was taking his failing grade in biology, and upping it to something that at least predicted a pass before thanksgiving.

He’d failed, and no amount of grovelling could fix it. No Ren Faire for you good sir!

Jeff was out of town with his family on some ‘visit all the out of state family members before Christmas snowstorms lock everything down’ country wide tour. And Dougie couldn’t get the time off his part time job to go.

So Eddie had promised plenty of photos to show them what they missed out on.

It was the very last stall at the end of the strip that caught his attention. Maybe it was the way the dying sunlight hit it, or the way the wind caught the chimes dangling from its flimsy rafters, he felt… called to it. Drawn to it like a moth to a flame and who was he, but a lowly little moth, to ignore the call of the fire?

So he wandered over, let himself be drawn in, offered a friendly little finger wave to the greying woman sat behind a makeshift counter wrapped in shawls and decorated in silver jewellery that jingled as she worked a single crotchet hook into a slowly coming together wine red shawl. The woman offered him a simple bow of her head and a small smile in response but no sales pitch.

No conversation of any kind really, she simply sat there while he looked, crocheting away without a care in the world. He could appreciate that, not being bothered by pushy sales tactic, especially when he had so few funds left to play with, he always felt guilty when he couldn’t afford what they were selling.

Like why was he even there if he had no money to spend?

The old woman didn’t do that, allowing him to wander through her surprisingly large stall full of little trinkets and goodies uninterrupted, which was for the best because had she spoke, he might not have stayed long enough to spot it. Amidst the little boxes decorated with carved patterns and pretty gemstones, amidst the scarves, crocheted bags, amidst the leather work belts, and wallets sat a single, solitary little bottle.

Sealed with a cork coated in wax and pressed with a decorative seal in a shape too worn down to really make out but obvious that it’d at one point had a shape. The bottle was hand blown, not manufactured, lightly frosted a dark brown to a brilliant amber around its square base, the colour crept up the smooth sides towards its seal, like a diamond in shape.

The bottle wasn’t empty either.

Much like the dice that’d caught his crow brain hook line and sinker earlier, this little bottle was filled with some kind of liquid. It swirled like a galaxy inside, and at the centre a brilliant light that looked like it held its own sun, always at the centre of the swirl, never distorting or shifting out of place, eternal in its circular flow.

It was warm in his hands. He didn’t even realise he’d picked it up.

“Two dollars.” Eddie damn near jumped out of his skin, whirling around, the bottle tight in his grip. That old woman had moved. And she’d done so with a quiet stealth some might attribute to a ninja, which was impressive considering how much jewellery she wore.

“Huh?” So eloquent of him.

“Just two dollars, child. The bottle? It is… calling to you, yes?” He couldn’t place her accent, something foreign, European maybe, he had no idea but it definitely didn’t sound any parts American. “I take two dollars for it, will bring you luck.” He looked back to the bottle, eyeing the swirl that still held its pattern even as he’d jostled it, like nothing could knock it out of its gentle swirl, then back to the old woman.

What was two dollars, really?

He had five left, if nothing else the bottle could make a really cool prop, and if it did bring him luck, then hey bonus. Who was he to argue with a mysterious old lady at a Renaissance Faire? “You uh… you got yourself a deal, ma’am.” She smiled brightly at him, eyes alight with both happiness and… something else, something that reflected in the light that he didn’t think hard enough about. She accepted the five dollars he had left, she gave him his change, and a little paper bag filled with tissue to hold his new purchase, which he didn’t really need as he put it right into his own bag after receiving his change, and then she sent him on his way, uncaring as to whether or not he wanted to look at her other wares.

He’d gotten the bottle. Nothing else mattered apparently. Maybe he should have found that suspicious, but why would he?

As soon as he left the little stall, all thought of it seemed to wash away from his mind leaving him freely wandering back to the entrance where his trusty steed, his Van, awaited him to take him home. Blissfully unaware of the little bottle he’d just purchased. Blissfully forgetful of the stall he’d visited, of the old woman he’d just met, of her smile, her eyes, her mysterious accent.

All of which was for the best, really, as if he’d thought about it, if he’d taken a single moment to stop and look back to the little stall at the end of the row, the little stall that held more treasures than it should have been able to for its size, if he’d looked back to wave his goodbyes to the old woman and her treasures, he’d have found nothing.

No stall, no woman, no trinkets or treasures. Just a single row of recycling bins and benches.

But he didn’t look back.

Definitely for the best.

Part 2

#PirateWrites #IWishFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Genie!Steve #warning: i've never been to a ren faire lmao #i also have zero self restraint whee

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months

Text

♡ chronicle #1 : routine ♡

wc : 2544

somehow, you’ve gotten used to living with the dragon man.

the man, you later found it his name is bakugou (after some prying, the guy’s annoyingly stubborn) had been living with you for about three weeks now and has seemingly started warming up to you, you say seemingly because you’re still not so sure.

he adapts to the human lifestyle quite quickly. he ditched his tattered old clothes and you've offered him your biggest set of clothes for the time being until you’d go out shopping some other day.

you have to admit it’s entertaining to watch him interact with your household items, like your utensils, glasses, books and plants, even if they are fake.

he likes watching tv but acts like he doesn’t, claiming that human entertainment was beneath him. but you catch how he always seems to be laser focused on the tv whenever you have some kind of drama tv show on, despite him saying he’s only watching ‘to kill time.’ he’s gotten used to technology rather quickly though. he likes listening to music and choosing songs when you connect your phone to your little bluetooth speaker.

you also note he likes cooking, or he likes watching you cook. you wouldn’t have guessed by the way he pointedly glares at you but you notice he’s less focused on you than he is on the food your making. you’ve let him try using the knife more lately when you were sure he wouldn’t use it to kill you in your sleep. he’s good at cutting stuff up, (maybe from experience?) and you were pleasantly surprised to see he was actually a really good cook. pleasantly surprised, definitely not a little jealous of his ability to watch one cooking show and replicate the dish perfectly. not at all.

in a way, it’s like having a roommate..that just so happens to be a dragon.

except it’s not because he acts more like a big cat rather than a roommate or a fearsome dragon.

for some reason he’s decided to make his stay- until-he’s-fully-healed-deal insufferable for you.

he nabs your food from your plate whenever you order takeout, despite you letting him pick out what he wants from the menu every time. he growls and nips at your fingers whenever you try and reach back for your food and he snarls at you whenever you try to take your food away from his grubby grasp.

he still sticks to calling you human despite you having told him your name multiple times, all he does is stick his nose up and scoff at you. he’s also, despite his rather large presence and size, really good at sneaking around. meaning he sneaks up on you regularly and scares you shitless. he likes to pretend you’re overdramatic too, calling you a scaredy-cat for getting startled so easily though he makes no effort to hide that shit eating grin on his face whenever he’s spooked you.

he doesn’t seem to understand the concept of having job, making fun if you for 'submitting to another puny human'. you’ve tried to explain how the puny human in question is the reason you get payed and the reason he gets to eat that yakiniku he seems to love. he merely scoffs and claims he would’ve just beat the shit outta your boss. "have him know his place."

you find out through light coaxing that bakugou is a dragon shifter, they posses human forms but have the blood of great, ancient dragons coursing through their veins, is what he says. they seem quite incredible from what he’s told you and he himself seems pretty damn proud of his heritage. they age the same way humans do but their strength, stamina and quite literally everything else surpasses them greatly.

you were curious, how could you not be when a dragon man was in your house with answers to all of the fantasy questions you’d accepted would never be answered forever ago?! you ask and ask and bakugou answers, some of your questions have him scoffing offendedly ( like you asking if he uses his fire breathing as a barbecue tool, the answer is unfortunately no) some questions have him snorting and smirking to himself and some questions take a little while of thinking before he provides an answer. you notice his long, scaly red tail raises upwards the slightest little bit when you hum excitedly whenever he answers your questions, as much as he huffs about them. you decide not to comment on it.

“ what about your parents ? are they dragon shifters too ?" he stiffens at your question and you feel the vibe has changed from the one before, you don’t like it.

he lowers his head and his eyebrows furrow a little harder, you’re about to tell him he doesn’t have to divulge private information about himself but then he speaks up and claims it’s none of your business.

he’s right, it really isn’t, but you foolishly believed you’d get to know each other a bit better. you know you don’t technically need to, but you thought— you don’t really know what you thought. all you can say is that as annoying as he is, you can’t deny your intrigue of this man.

you decide to blame it on the fact that he’s a dragon for now and leave it at that.

you have more you want to ask him, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk about this subject anymore. you don’t want the conversation to end yet.

and then you remember.

“hey !” you suddenly start, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you “ how exactly did you end up blasting through my wall ? you were injured too, i never asked you about it, must’ve slipped my mind.” when he registers your question, it has him tightening his jaw in anger. fists clenched and veins popping “that fuckin’ bastard..” he growls.

“who ?”

he regains as much of his composure as he can but he still looks very pissed off.

“nothin’. it doesn’t matter.” he shrugs, looking away from you before deciding to step off your kitchen chair to flop onto the couch unceremoniously.

“wha- the reason you blasted through my wall doesn’t matter?!” you splutter, staring at him dumbfounded but he either doesn’t see you or doesn’t pay you any mind. he’s already scrolling through channels on your tv and replies with a simple “nope”.

and just like that, the conversation ends.

lately though, you’ve established somewhat of a routine with the dragon man.

he seems to enjoy binge watching tv shows rather than watching movies, you realized he was hooked on your favorite show when he growled and threatened you when you turned it off to head to bed. you didn’t mind watching your favorite show for the 50000th time and it’s always nice to see other people’s —dragons, in this case—reactions to your favorite moments.

despite his bravado, he’s ridiculously expressive. he glares and growls and groans whenever characters do something he deems stupid. he doesn’t say much when romantic moments happen, but he huffs proudly, almost like everything went according to his plan. frankly, you found it quite cute.

every time you come back from work, you chow down on some take out and watch your favorite show toghether, mixed with bakugou occasionally commenting every once in a while.

today though, you're back late.

today had been more grueling than usually, work seemed to drag on longer and it seemed that the clock in your office was frozen or broken. that, or you were stuck in some type of time vortex.

it's about 10pm when you step foot into your apartment. you instantly feel more at ease, it's warm and you smell the donburi leftovers that were confined to the fridge yesterday. you blink, then look up at your dragon roommate.

his head is perked up, the tip of his tail standing at attention, his eyes narrow into slits when he sees it's you and his shoulders sag. he huffs and a barely there pout forms on his lips.

"you're late." he grumbles. he takes another fierce bite of his donburi and shoves it in his mouth, as if to simulate biting you for the irreperable act you've commited. you hold back a snort at how ridiculous he looks trying to be intimidating with his cheeks all puffed out.

"yeah, sorry" you sigh "work ran till late" you kick off your shoes and you hear him scoffs, muttering something along the lines of why you don't just have your boss burnt to a crisp. "don't talk with your mouth full" you joke. you scold him like he's a child and he responds like one when he simply growls at you.

you're opening the frigde to grab your portion when he beats you to it " 'ts in the microwave ! " he calls loud enough for you to hear. and sure enough, you find you're bowl in the microwave waiting for you, you'd have to heat it up a bit, but not as long. you smile to yourself and turn to him, he glances at you then pointedly looks away, scoffing to himself. you're too far away to see how his ears prickle and burn as they turn a light shade of pink.

you plop yourself down next to him on the couch, food in hand,and start eating. bakugou jumps into motion. he snatches the remote without even giving you a chance to glance at it and switches to netflix like he's been living here forever. you find you don't really mind that, for some reason.

he mutters a "fuckin' finally" when he hears the iconic 'du-duummm" and the show starts where you left off yesterday. this is the episode you left off on yesterday. then it clicks.

you blink at him " you haven't watched episode 15 yet ?" you questioned. he rolls his eyes like you had asked him a stupid question "course not..." he sniffs. he wants to cut himself off but decides against it "you weren't back yet." his eyes are fixed to the tv.

you feel yourself flush involuntarily, it's such a miniscule, frankly stupid thing to be embarrassed about but you've learned to not take the dragon man's kindness (if you can call it that most of the time) for granted.

"oh" you gasp, he refuses to look at you. your eyes dart from him to the tv then back to him, and back to the tv to hide your embarrassement.

"you could've started without me, i wouldn't have minded." you whisper bashfully, you're quiet over the sound of the tv, but you know he hears you cus he scoffs at you.

"shut up." he grunts, his arm flexes where he has it draped on the back of your couch as he shuffles to sit more comfortably. " i can't do that." then, as if trying to save face, he splutters "you'd get all pissy about it..it's annoyin'".

"i wouldn't have gotten 'pissy' " you mocked hotly.

"ya did when i blasted your wall."

"that's because you blasted my wall ! "

"tch."

your banter ends there as you both quietly watch the show, you let out a few yawns and rub at your eyes, trying your hardest to fight off sleep but you feel like your losing. until bakugou speaks up again.

"you..." he starts. you lazily roll your head back from where it's propped up on the couch to blink at him sleepily, he meets your eye for a moment, only for a moment, then looks out towars your balcony window. you hum to try and coax him to continue speaking.

"you..wanted to know about my folks, right ?" he asks gruffly.

you're using the last of the strenght your sleep-riddled body has to sit up a little straighter and nod quickly, eyes slightly wider. he looks at you for a moment longer than before. a beat passes and neither of you say anything, finally he sighs for the umpteenth time today and speaks up.

“my ma’s a shifter, my old man’s a human." he confesses. you’re eyes widen, you sit up straighter “woah really ?!" you bleated. he grunts in response.

" wow, so you’re half human..?"

“all of us are, shitty human.”

" cut that out, i’ve told you my name a thousand times !"

he simply rolls his eyes at you.

"you're a human, a shitty one at that, that's all i need to know about you." he smirks when you lay down onto the couch just to kick him in the shoulder. he smiles wickedly and grabs your leg, shoving it back towards your torso. you yelp, kicking your other leg up but he's faster. he's got you in his grasp, like a hunter catching its prey. his sharp teeth on display with that nasty little grin he has on his stupidly handsome face, a mischievious glint shines in his eyes and it has your stomach tying itself into knots.

"c-cut it !" you whinge. he smiles wider at your complaints, leaning over you a little bit more until your socked feet are pressed to his chest, you try to push at him, but you stop when you feel like you'll damn near break your legs trying to cause any damage to that huge chiseled chest of his, your head spins. you resort to trying to push at him with your hands, but it feels like you're trying to push a fucking wall at this rate.

"you started it, shitty human" he cackles, pressing against you harder "gotta pay for it, now."

"y-you'll crush me, you b-big lizard !" you wheeze.

"big lizard, huh?" he guffaws, smirking down at you "got some guts talkin to me like that, human."

despite rapidly losing your breath, you find the strenght to glare up at him, puffing out your cheeks. he snickers and finally relents, pushing himself away so you can finally breathe "fine, fine" he concedes "you prey animals are all so weak, barely touched you and you almost died"

"you-!" you sit up quickly, sputtering as you catch your breath "you just tried to kill me ! how's that barely touching me?!" you shot. he simply rolls his eyes at you and you think this is the longest you've seen him with a smile on his face, albeit at the expense of your poor lungs.

" relax." he answers easily, you feel like strangling him "wasn't trying to kill ya," a dangerously mischievious glint glows in his deep carmine eyes again when he looks at you " if i was, you'd know." you can't help the chill running down your spine, you mask it with a cough and turn away from him to continue watching your neglected show, turning your nose up at him. you hear his deep chuckle in response, you want to punch him.

but there's a part of you that can't help but feel a little giddy, you've learned a little more about your dragon...co-habitant. even if it's just a little bit, you feel like he's opening up to you more, very, very slowly but surely. you smile softly to yourself.

somehow, you've gotten used to living with bakugou.

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em1e · 1 year

Text

⠀ ⠀わかさ // BABY SITTER'S CLUB ⠀ ༝ ༝ wakasa imaushi [ft. cousin!sano's/black dragons] ⠀ ༝ ༝ 4.2k words ⠀ ༝ ༝ some drinking ! ⠀ — shinichiro asks if you can babysit your younger cousin's for the night, and you get to have a late night convo with his pretty friend after.

you think you might’ve been doomed from the start.

shinichiro didn’t specify what you’d need to babysit your younger cousins for, just that he was desperate because his grandpa was out of town and none of his friends could be trusted to actually watch them. you could almost hear him falling to his knees to beg over the phone.

you like to think you’re a nice person. generous and caring, and you haven’t seen mikey or emma in a while anyways, so there was no real harm in saying yes. taking every penny from his wallet was a plus, too.

you get to their house right when he tells you, almost tackled by emma who is saying something about having a sleepover in the living room with a pillowfort in the mix the second you’ve finished slipping off your shoes, and you catch a glance of mikey pouting to his older brother while emma drags you further into the house.

“(y/n)’s gonna take good care of you guys, don’t sweat it.” shinichiro pats mikey’s head with a hum, then turns to you, “left some money on the counter for pizza or something if you want, but there’s food in the fridge too if you wanna cook. ‘m gonna be in my room for a bit before i have to leave, but i’ll prob’ly be home way after you guys are asleep.”

you offer a nod, setting your overnight bag in a corner of the living room, “s’okay, i’ll probably need a ride home tomorrow though, if that’s alright.”

“not a problem - thanks for coming, i really appreciate it-”

he’s interrupted by the front door swinging open, a man with a long scar going over one of his eyes coming in like he owns the place, with two kids running past his legs to greet your younger cousins. he drops their bags by yours, stretching and popping his back as if carrying them was the worst thing in the world before his eyes find your own wide ones, unlit cigarette between his teeth while he takes you in.

“you’re the babysitter, right? sanzu, senju, come introduce yourselves. ‘m takeomi.” he offers his hand, and he must be confused by your bewildered stare, because he takes his hand back and looks to your older cousin, “they okay shin?”

you whirl around to glare at him, completely appalled by his apologetic stare. “surprise?”

“you did not tell me i’d be watching four kids!”

shinichiro is quick for damage control, gesturing towards takeomi, “he’s gonna pay what i am, promise!”

takeomi looks surprised at this news, opening his mouth to argue, but deciding against it from the look shinichiro gives. he fishes out his wallet, counting out some money and offering it to you. you eye it, then him, then shinichiro. your cousin clears his throat, jutting his thumbs upwards as a sign for more. takeomi sputters, pulling out all the cash he has and placing it in your open hand.

“i am not a daycare.” your eyes narrow between them, pointed look enough to have shinichiro humming nervously. you shove the cash in your wallet, finally acknowledging the two new additions to your entourage.

“i’m senju! this is my brother sanzu.” the girl says, hands on her brother's shoulders as she pushes him forward.

“i’m (y/n).” you smile, and sanzu looks away from you before escaping his sister’s hold and scurrying back to mikey.

shinichiro and takeomi whisper between themselves while you and emma start gathering blankets from around the house, before shinichiro calls out, “okay, we’ll be out here for a bit! you’ll probably hear us leaving soon!”

“see ya.” you call back, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you help senju put blankets on to chairs and set pillows over them to keep them in place. the door shuts, and you’re left alone with no one over the age of 10.

⠀ ⠀ ༝⠀ ⠀ ༝

shinichiro honestly expected you to come barrelling into his room far sooner than you did.

takeomi sat to his right on the couch, benkei to his left, and wakasa sat on the table in front of them. your soft knock was barely audible, but it made shinichiro pause in his talk about black dragon, turning to face it when you open it slowly and peek into the room.

“what’s up?” he asks, standing when you make your way further in.

“i just wanted to make sure sanzu and senju weren’t allergic to anything.” you look past him, to takeomi, who takes a long drag of his cigarette before shaking his head.

“not that i know of.”

“emma and mikey?” you’re looking at him now, head tilted slightly.

“nothin’.” he confirms, “you gonna make somethin’?”

“mhm.” you scan the room, eyes glossing over each of his friends, before they settle on one person for a second, then you’re turning on your heel to go back to the kids, “i’ll put some leftovers in the fridge if you want.”

he snickers, despite having no idea what could’ve had you leaving so quickly, “sounds good, thank you!”

the click of the door fills the air as you leave, and silence washes over the group before wakasa sighs.

“okay, i’ll bite. who was that.”

shinichiro turns slowly, acknowledging his friend for a second, and takeomi answers before he has a chance to open his mouth, “(y/n). babysitter of the night and thief of all the cash in my wallet.”

“they stole from you?” benkei laughs, the idea almost comedic.

“not directly,” takeomi’s eyes narrow to shinichiro, “but they are definitely making a pretty penny tonight.”

“and dealing with your monsters of siblings,” wakasa sighs out a puff of smoke, “it’s easy money well-earned.”

“think i could pay enough for ‘em to babysit me-”

takeomi gets hit in the back of the head by a shoe, jolting forward while shinichiro gathers the matching pair to slide onto his foot. “that’s enough of that, you guys ready to go or you wanna fantasize ‘bout my cousin all night?”

“cousin?” takeomi scoffs, throwing the shoe back to him. he slides it on then goes for his bike keys, “thought the attractive gene skipped over your generation.”

“more like skipped over you. we leavin’ or what?”

⠀ ⠀ ༝⠀ ⠀ ༝

you heard their bikes take off about two hours ago, finished feeding the kids right after that, and got everyone changed into their pjs in record time. babysitters around the world wish they had your skillset. it takes a bit to get them to quiet down into the fort you’ve created, but with the promise of tv and a snack before bed, they’re hooked.

it’s a surprise when the guys stumble in through the front door with the smell of alcohol following them, benkei supporting most of shinichiro’s weight with a nasty bruise on his cheek. wakasa follows behind the two of them, remnants of a bloody nose still flaked lightly under his nostril, and . . . you look between the three, making sure your headcount is accurate.

“aren’t you guys missing one?”

the men look between each other, then out the door as if he was waiting outside, then back to each other.

“oh.”

“oh?” you parrot, “the hell happened to you guys?”

“oniichan’s face is messed up.” one by one, the kids pop out from the blankets to see their siblings and friends alike. emma pouts, tugging on your arm, “he promised no more fighting (y/n), can you believe it.”

mikey almost laughs at his brother, “like he ever could, you know how he likes to pick fights.”

“where’s ‘omi?” senju rubs her eyes as a yawn slips past her lips, and sanzu nudges her shoulder.

“maybe he got arrested.”

she stiffens at the thought, suddenly very awake and pulling on your other arm, “he isn’t really is he? he’s just sayin’ that?”

your eyes narrow at the three men for riling up the kids right when you were getting them ready to sleep.

“out.” you point towards the garage door, gently pulling your arms from emma and senju and shoving wakasa by the shoulders when no one moves.

“what’d i do?” he whines out, eyes not leaving you as you grab benkei by the wrist and drag him in the same direction.

“‘s my house.” shinichiro grumbles, being pulled along by his friend.

you open the door for them and push them one by one into shinichiro’s room, ignoring the complaints from each of them while benkei gives an apologetic smile. he closes the door for you, and you’re left consoling senju while trying to get everyone back into the fort as if it will help get them to sleep faster.

and it almost works, shrek playing on the tv with sanzu’s head resting on your shoulder.

the door swings open, and each of you startle at the sudden sound, takeomi’s voice loud while he complains about being left by his dearest friends. you climb out of the fort to glare at him, and senju lets out a small omi! before you’re grabbing him by the ear and dragging him to the garage door. you push it open and all but shove him into the room, completely ignoring the whines he gives about his poor tortured ear.

“stay.” you threaten, glaring at each of them like they’re dogs who just won’t listen, and not one of them can find it in themselves to argue from the way you’re looking at them.

“‘s my house.” shinichiro grumbles again, once the door is shut and his safety is secured as you retreat.

an hour passes and takeomi sips idly on a lukewarm beer shinichiro keeps in his room, pout still very evident, while wakasa lights a cigarette. benkei breaks any leftover silence with a grumbling stomach.

“‘m kinda hungry. we never stopped at the store like we said we would.” he scratches his cheek, looking to his friends in hopes of a solution.

“(y/n) did say they made somethin’ for dinner, didn’t they?” takeomi sits up slightly from his slouched position, thinking dreamily about what you could’ve made.

“you wanna risk goin’ into the house?” wakasa takes a drag from his cigarette.

“it’s my house.” shinichiro stands, repeating that phrase for the third time in one hour. it’s almost like he’s trying to convince himself it’s okay.

it’s decided then shinichiro would go in, grab something quick, and be back in his room before you notice he’s even there. hoping time would be on his side, since it is very late, maybe you’ll be sound asleep and he won’t really need to be as sneaky as he’s planning. the plan falls apart very quickly at the seams, realizing the door that connects his room inside the house is locked from the otherside. he silently curses you, trying to turn the lock one more time in case his first attempt just wasn’t right, then sighs.

“gotta go through the front door.”

his friends watch with amused grins, wondering if maybe you’ve completely cut all contact with them until the morning, as shinichiro goes out the side door that leads to the front porch. he thanks whatever god is out there that the door is unlocked, opening so, so slowly to ensure it doesn’t make a creak, and slides into the room as quietly as possible.

quiet, until he knocks into the umbrella holder right beside the door. it falls with a clatter, and he can see you sit up slightly from your spot on the couch, hissing out a ‘shh’ while sanzu in your lap makes a noise of complaint in his sleep. he places it back as it was with a wince.

“the hell are you doin’?” you whisper scream, barely able to turn your body in fear of waking up the boy you’ve had to constantly pat to keep asleep.

“we just-”

“no. no ‘we’. if you wake up these kids, i swear-”

“okay! okay, okay, okay, you win.” he grumbles something under his breath that has your eyes narrowing at him in the dark, and he inhales sharply before going back to his friends.

attempt one : failed.

shinichiro arrives back to the gang empty handed and dejected at losing so easily.

and his friends have the audacity to laugh at him.

“an umbrella holder? shouldn’t you know that house like the back of your hand?” wakasa almost snorts, holding his stomach at the fact that something so small did him in.

“i do!” he assures, “one of the kids must’ve moved it closer to the door or something.” he explains in vain, “and i don’t see any of you guys stepping up to try.”

takeomi claps a hand on benkei’s shoulder, shaking him slightly after, “benkei’s my vote, he’s the one that brought up food in the first place.”

“i didn’t know we’d have to become ninjas to eat.” he argues, “besides, i’m the biggest here, what makes you think i’ll do any better?”

he makes a good case, but the idea of you whisper-yelling at someone twice your size almost makes shinichiro laugh. “i agree with takeomi, i think you should try.”

“i can’t believe you guys are plotting against me.” he looks to wakasa, who just shrugs and offers no help. so, with a sigh, he stands, taking the beer takeomi had been nursing, and chugs what’s left while ignoring the complaints that follow.

he goes out the same way shinichiro did, opens the door as quietly as he can, and . . . bumps into the same. fucking. umbrella holder. with the warning in mind. you whip around to glare, curses on your tongue as you take in benkei, who looks so sorry, it has the words dying on your lips. the two of you stare at each other for all of five seconds, before he’s wordlessly picking the holder back up, placing it where it was, and closing the door behind him.

attempt two : failed.

benkei returns to the group just as empty handed as his captain, just as dejected.

“couldn’t even get through the door.” he sighs, waving off the laughter that follows.

“they say anything to you?” wakasa snickers, offering benkei another beer. he takes it gratefully, chugging it easily and shaking his head.

“i kicked the umbrella holder,” louder laughter surrounds him, “didn’t even say anything. we just stared at each other and i left.”

“we’re never gonna eat at this rate.” shinichiro groans, “why is this so hard?”

“they aren’t even that scary,” takeomi hums, ear incident long forgotten, while putting out the remainder of his cigarette before standing, “i’ll show you guys how it’s done.”

takeomi is so self-assured, so confident that it doesn’t matter if he fucks up. he’s a smooth-talker, through and through. surely, if you get upset, he can just talk it out. that’s what these idiots don’t understand.

with that in mind, he takes the same route as the others. he decides, maybe their flaw is in opening the door so slowly. that must be why they keep kicking the umbrella holder. they let it sneak up on them, too worried about the wrong thing to even notice it. he pushes the door open with no regard to how loud he is, taking a step past the frame and cursing when he kicks the one thing he was meant to avoid.

it clatters across the floor, and he hears a groan from sanzu, both from the sound and from you shifting to face him.

“d-didn’t mean to-” he stutters out, and your glare hardens when he makes no attempt to keep his voice down.

“so help me god, if you do not go back to the garage right now you are going to wish you never met me.”

he audibly gulps, bowing his head while apologies fall off his lips. you throw a pillow in his direction, and he takes that as a sign to bounce, not bothering to pick up the umbrella holder like the past two attemptees.

attempt three : failed.

takeomi comes back, head still high with nothing in his hands, and the laughter that erupts is infectious.

“they threatened me! me!!” he explains desperately, “and it worked!”

shinichiro really thinks they should’ve just gone to a twenty-four hour store at this point, but each attempt seems to be funnier than the last. he turns to wakasa, who sips on a beer from the couch. he catches his eye, and shakes his head.

“nuh uh, no way am i going in there after all of that.”

“you’re the only one that hasn’t!” shinichiro argues, “and technically, you’re the one least likely to get caught! being the smallest and all . . . “ his voice trails off, and the comment has wakasa’s eyes narrowing to slits.

“i’m not even that hungry, it’s you guys who are so desperate.”

“it’s only fair you try, too.” benkei grumbles, still not over the look you gave him when he first walked in.

four of the toughest delinquents in tokyo, arguing about fairness. out of fear for their leader's younger cousin, no less. it’s laughable. wakasa grumbles profanities under his breath, almost certain this will end with you leaving shinichiro’s house with an attempted murder charge.

“fine, but if i come outta there alive, you guys owe me.”

“not if you come back empty handed.” takeomi opens another beer, plopping his ass back down on the couch, “careful, they have sanzu in their lap. that kid’ll be the reason they snap.”

wakasa takes the warning with a grain of salt, sure that the four of them bothering you is the real reason for your aggravation. with a sigh, he’s left walking to the front door and opening it quietly. you’re already glaring holes where he stands and he hasn’t even had a chance to do anything wrong.

“what could you guys possibly want so badly?” you ask through clenched teeth, and wakasa’s hands come up defensively, closing the door behind him and very aware of the umbrella holder takeomi left in the middle of the floor.

“we’re just hungry.” he assures, stepping past the couch towards the kitchen, “be in and out before you can notice.”

he stumbles slightly in his drunken state, and it has you heaving a sigh and slowly peeling yourself from under sanzu. you carefully place a blanket over him, and follow wakasa to the kitchen, finger pressed to your lips to make sure he knows to keep quiet.

wakasa is already shuffling through the fridge, hoping to find something quick and easy so he isn’t in your hair for any longer than he needs to be, but you’re pulling him back gently by his upper arm and grabbing something in a tupperware container.

“i made rice with some vegetables and beef i found in the freezer,” you say softly, and wakasa wonders for a second if you’re always soft spoken or if it’s because you’re trying your best to be quiet.

you pop the lid off and move to reheat what you made, leaning against the counter as the microwave counts down.

“what’d you guys do for you to earn that?” you nod towards him, and despite not directly saying what, wakasa knows you’re talking about his previously bloodied nose.

absentmindedly, he taps at his nostril, honestly having forgotten to even clean what blood was there. “fight.” he says dumbly, and the simplicity of it has you giggling. he thinks he really likes that sound.

he watches intently when you grab a paper towel, dampening it with the sink water, then so very gently cup his cheek to tap at the blood to clean it. if he had any shame, he knows his face would be flushed right now. instead, he grins, eyes half-lidded while he absorbs your focused expression.

“you’re awfully sweet on me, huh?” the comment has your own cheeks dusting pink, but your reply comes by you squeezing his cheek tighter.

“quit movin’, makin’ this harder than it needs to be.”

by the time you’re finished, the microwave is seconds away from going off, and you drop both the paper towel and his face in favor of making sure the timer doesn’t have a chance to sound, stopping it right at :01. wakasa finds himself missing your touch, but the thought is lost when the smell of food hits. maybe he was hungrier than he thought.

he grabs a plate for himself, piling a portion onto it and groaning when it hits his tongue.

“you made this?” he finds himself asking, despite you literally explaining the fact that you did not even five minutes ago. you hum out a reply, already in the process of getting other plates and utensils for his friends.

“‘s very good.” he grins when he’s finished, “thanks for takin’ care of me.” he eyes you lazily, grin growing bigger when he sees that the pink dusting your cheeks spreads.

“don’t mention it,” you mumble, pushing the plates and now warm food to him, “should probably take these to them before they starve.”

“let ‘em.” he says with such confidence, it has a giggle passing your lips. he wants to hear that more. he pulls himself onto the counter with such ease, it makes you wonder how drunk he really is.

“so who’d you guys fight?” you lean against the counter beside him, tapping at his knee as if his undivided attention wasn’t already fully on you.

“some idiots,” he waves dismissively, “heard from people at the bar we're inna gang and started shit talking shinichiro.”

you grin, “he take the first swing?”

he mirrors your smile, and fuck does he look pretty when he does, “damn right. got socked right after,” he taps his cheek, “everyone was fightin’ after that. benkei had to drag us out ‘fore the cops came.”

“who hit you?” you muse, head tilting slightly.

“some random that followed us outta the bar.” his grin only widens at the memory, “shoulda seen the other guy.”

“i can only imagine.” you push yourself from the counter when a head of pink hair peeks around the corner, eyes widening slightly when they meet yours before he scurries back to the living room.

wakasa’s eyes follow your movements when you leave him alone in the kitchen, in favor of going back to sanzu who can’t seem to stay asleep without your comforting touch. in his inebriated state, he finds himself following behind you. in the time it took him to make that decision, you’ve already gotten comfortable on the couch with sanzu’s head in your lap. you rub his back idly, and he catches the faintest whisper of you asking if he had another bad dream, sees the way sanzu’s head barely moves with a nod.

it’s really domestic, seeing how well you’re taking care of a kid you didn’t even know about hours before, and wakasa finds himself almost jealous of the 9 year old. what a cockblock, coming in when he was reeling you into the conversation.

instead of voicing these concerns, he finds himself clambering on the other end of the couch, feet tucked neatly under him and looking at you.

“hi,” you whisper with a small laugh, “don’t you have a delivery to make?”

he waves off the suggestion with a hum, “they shoulda came on their own - kept tellin’ horror stories ‘bout you being mean, but i think they’re just scaredy cats.”

“that so?” you muse, and sanzu shifts closer to you when wakasa leans over him to get a better look at your smile.

“mhm,” half-lidded eyes scan over you, and he can honestly forget about the boy between the two of you easily with the way you’re looking back at him, “think maybe they can’t handle you like i can.”

you offer another giggle, putting a finger against his forehead when he invades too much of sanzu’s space, “i think you should tell me this sober.”

“i’d tell you it everyday if i could.” he whispers so seriously, it has your face flushing.

“try again tomorrow.” you tap his forehead twice for emphasis, then pass a blanket his way since it’s very apparent he won’t be going back to his friends.

his friends, who are mourning the loss of him the longer he takes to come back.

shinichiro, after his dear friend wakasa hadn’t shown up in the five minutes they’d timed him for, delved into horror stories from when you were younger. how you’d been suspended from school due to your temper, picking more fights than him when someone said the wrong thing. how he’d spend some weekend nights helping you tend to bruised knuckles after you’d defended him.

and it ends with each man giving a soft prayer for their friend, who, after an hour, still hadn’t come back yet.

unbeknownst to them, wakasa had fallen asleep listening to you tell stories about your cousin. how you’d protected him in grade school because kids were assholes, but you were a bigger asshole who didn’t take that shit. and on the couch, the three of you fell asleep peacefully, while the men in garage hoped you gave wakasa a quick and painless death.

#salmon rowe #wakasa imaushi x reader #imaushi wakasa x reader #imaushi x reader #wakasa x reader #wakasa imaushi #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #x reader

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my-on-and-off-writingstuff · 1 year

Text

Troublemaker | Daemon x reader

Summary: the three times Daemon is harassed by a tiny toddler.

Warning: Age gap of around 10 years between reader and Daemon. Furthermore, Daemon did not marry Lady Rhea Royce.

93 AC

At two and ten Daemon Targaryen had escaped his teacher. instead he preferred to spend his day underneath the Weirwood tree. The young prince was laying at the root of the tree with arms underneath his head while sleepily looking up at the sky. Somewhere he can hear one of his teachers call out to him. Without doubt wanting to enrich him with an ancient batter or the doom of old Valyria. Something he had learned about a thousand times. This morning has already been filled with sword fighting and while he rather would have ridden his dragon Caraxes he knew sneaking out the Dragon pit would be almost impossible. God knows what his brother Viserys was doing, and he was not really planning on finding out as his brother was probably going to snitch him to his teacher anyway.

Something was tugging on his hair and annoyed he hoped his eyes looking around for the culprit that had interrupted his nap. With a frown on his forehead, he looks at the tiny toddler sitting content at his side. Their little plump fingers going through his hair and occasionally give a sharp tug. Other than the two of you the Godwoods is empty. No nursemaid or servant to be found. The little one was babbling content noises. Judging by the snit of her dress the little toddler was not a servant’s babe but a child of one of the noble ladies residing in the keep.

He tried to ignore the toddler and closed his eyes again. It is not his responsibly to take care of a little girl that what the servants are for. A screech interrupted his rest once again and his eyes quicky found the little one once again. This time you were crawling away from him towards the table underneath the roofed area. The table was covered with a long cloth, hanging of the edge of table almost to the ground, the table was decked with silverware and set for a quick lunch. He knew the curiosity of toddlers and while you had crawled your way there, judging you age he knew you were old enough to be learning how to stand so he made his way towards you quickly. For such a little thing you were quick and had almost reached the table. He carefully scooped you up, but your little fist had managed to grip on to the tablecloth and with Daemons motion of scooping you up you had managed enough force to pull the silverware from the table.

The silverware was clattering to the ground around Daemons feet, wine, and food clinging to his clothing. He groaned but to your amusement the sound of the silverware and his frustration made you giggle. A soft and innocent sound which Daemon had to admit made his heart melt. “Oh, you are enjoying this, little troublemaker.” His voice made an adorable smile spread on your face and he softly tickled you to make you laugh again. He swung you around back to the tree to sit down and keep you out of harm’s way.

The sound of the silverware clattering to the ground had attracted maids and other public to see what was happening. As the maids were quickly and quietly cleaning up the mess you had made. A woman came running in. She let out a sign of relief when noticing you. Her color of her hair and eyes matched yours and Daemon was positively that it was your mother. “Oh, my baby.” The woman exclaimed while quickly gathering you into her arms. The little toddler did not seem to like being ripped out of Daemons embrace, who you had considered to be your friend as the toddler started frowning and making grabbing hands towards him. “I am sorry for the trouble she has caused my prince.” The woman apologized quietly while soothing her daughter. Who’s lip was starting to wobble. “Next time do not let her out of someone’s sight as she might not be so lucky.” He scolded the woman, which he recognized as one of the ladies of a noble house who had just arrived at court for the festivities.

“Of course, my prince, thank you for watching over her.” The lady made a courtesy towards him. Daemon only nodded and walked past the woman with all intention to make haste and find new place to relax but your baby talk made him halt. He turned around towards you and with his index finger lightly fluttered over your little face. “She is a troublemaker that one.” And with that he took his leave.

___

A few weeks later he was walking towards the courtyard to practice some sword fighting when he noticed a presence behind him. He looked over his shoulder and abruptly stopped when he saw you waddling behind him. “Ah the little troublemaker has mastered walking.” He said to the little toddler. Unbeknownst to him the door of the room you and your family was occupying was left open and when seeing him walking past you had seen your chance and followed him. You made grabby hands at him, and he saw that as a sign to pick you up. Content of being in his arms your hand grabbed at his long hair.

“Och, little one let’s not do that.” He untangled his hair from your little hands but as soon as he freed his hair out of your grip your hands were back into his hair. He simply gave up and continued his way towards the courtyard where the training sessions were held. Along the way ignoring the glances of the people around him.

His sword fight teacher raised an eyebrow when he saw the young prince come his way with the small toddler in his arms but said nothing. Only looked on in amusement when Daemon carefully sat the toddler down on a bench gave you a wooden dagger to play with, to keep you occupied and distracted. “She is a troublemaker that one.” Was the only thing the prince acknowledged about the toddler before focusing on the training. Somewhere in the middle of the training a maid who had been sent to look for you had taken you away. Which had resulted in your cries echoing across the courtyard displeased with being taken away while you had been playing with the wooden dagger and had been watching Daemon train with wide eyes of amazement. Daemon almost had snatched you out of the hands of the maid when your disagreement with the situation had made itself known. But decided against it as you were not family of him. His eyes followed the form of the maid who quickly carried you away.

___

Two months later he was properly introduced to the little toddler it was the name day of your older brother. His father, Viserys and he had made his way towards the garden where the party was held. His father properly introduced his brother and him to the family, and your mother stumbled over her words as she properly met the prince still aware of the time, he had scolded her for not watching her child.

The royal family had sat down on the provided chairs which were placed around the garden for the parents to be able to socialize and the children to run around and play. As soon as your little eyes had found him you had made your way towards him. Daemon had not noticed you sneaking up on him until you were tugging at his clothes. Your mother tried to distract you but to no avail. “Y/N, baby come here” You had only looked briefly towards your mother before again tugging these times more urgently at his clothes. Daemon looked down at you, the same smile on your little face as when he had first met you and again his heart melted. He picked you up and sat you in his lap.

From there you had a great view and was watching other kids play around you while also sheepishly eyeing up the cakes standing on the table. Daemon quickly took notice of the cakes when he saw you attempting to crawl on the table. “Ah see your little trouble side is coming out again.” He spoke quietly to you making sure his brother could not jest him about talking to a toddler. You let out an adorable giggle at the sound of his voice and again tried to move closer to the cakes. “You just can not help it, can you?” Daemon kept an arm around your stomach to make sure you did not fall or lose balance before plating one of the cakes onto a plate and putting it in front of you. A little scream came from your mouth as the little cake you had been eyeing was now in front of you.

Without much hesitation your hands grabbed the cake and brought it to your mouth. You leaned against Daemon with the cake in your hands clearly content with your position. Daemon let out a soft groan because of the crumbs that were falling onto his clothes. Your mother had given up on trying to coax you away from the prince. With a full belly and a comfortable position, you had quickly fallen asleep in Daemons arms. However, every time when your mother would try to lift you out of Daemons arms and give you to one of the maids. You would stir and start whining which ended up with Daemon being annoyed with your mother and telling her you were fine in his arms. He ignored his brother who was trying to stifle his laugh across from him at the table clearly finding it amusing how much his brother was wrapped around the toddler little finger.

In the end Daemon was the one who had carried you back to the castle. Nobody allowed to get you out of his arms. He loved the feeling of that responsibility, caring for you was slowly but surely one of his favorite things. While his brother was jesting that you had imprinted on him like a little baby rabbit. Daemon could only relinquish in the feeling that you had chosen him to do so.

Slowly he placed you in your bed. He brushed your baby hairs before leaving the room without another glance. Missing the little smile that graced your lips even in your sleep.

___

111 AC

Daemon was nervously tugging at the collar of his jacket while looking around the great hall trying to not meet the eye of a single spectator. The great hall was transformed into a magical place where the wedding ceremony was going to take place. Sun light was lighting up the room making the golden and white wand decorations handing from the walls shine. Flowers were wrapped around the columns and the tacitly pleased around the room. You had planned it out to the last detail even the broach on which tied the cape and his jacket together.

You had gifted it to him last night. It was a golden dragon midflight with its wings stretched out. It was unlike the Targaryen crest, and he had never been gifted something this thoughtful. For its eye was a single ruby. “For the color of Caraxes scales.” You had proudly stated while pinning it to his wedding attire so that it would all be ready for tomorrow. Like he said you had planned everything. Before he could properly thank you, you had all but ran out the room. Screaming back at him that he would have to wait one more night.

Once again, he roams the space, and his eyes briefly meet your parents. While he practically had to beg your dad for your hand your mother was already wiping her tears away. Your father was a little less pleased as he glared at Daemon with a stoic face. Your father was not a fan of the 10 years age gap, as well reputation of rogue prince. However very much like Daemon you had both of them wrapped around your finger from a verry young age. Every marriage proposal you had rejected in favor of this one. After all you had dreamed about this wedding for ages and what you want you would get even if your dad was not totally aboard with it. As a father he had his concerns and Daemons reputation did not paint him in a favorable light.

The music starts playing and Daemon shifts his attention to the big heavy doors. The doors are opened by two knights and within seconds you are making you way down the rows of people. You were wearing a heavily decorate golden gown with flowers and little stars on it. The trail of wedding dress is in a long trail behind you, shifting the flowers that mark the path towards the altar on the ground slightly. In your hair is a grand diadem set with rubies and diamonds. Around your neck is a necklace set with stones where part of it drops downs and settles between the valley of your breast. The necklace together with the drop earrings was his engagement gift for you. You had only worn them once before showing them off at their engagement feast before locking them up and saving them for your wedding day.

You had almost reached the altar and Daemon reached out his hands to help you up it. You looked like a goddess with the sunlight warming your face and making your dress sparkle. You take his hands in yours and squeeze it to reassure yourself that this is all happening, and it is not just a dream. The maids in charge of the trail delicately place it around you when you stand in front of your soon to be husband before they take a step back. The septon comes forwards and hushes the crowd. You smile nervously at him, as if you had only just noticed the crowd.

“Who is giving away the bride?” the septon asks. “I am!” your father voices bellows through the sept. He climbs the stairs of the altar and slowly takes of the beautiful made cloak in your house colors. The cloak is heavily decorated and reaches all the way to the floor. “You sure about this honey, we can still make a run for it.” Your father tries to joke but you see the emotion in his eyes. “Yes father, he is the man I want to marry.” You sneak a glance at Daemon who is tense, clearly having heard the conversation and you father offering you a way out. Your father only nods a response before kissing your forehead and returning to stand next to your mother.

“Now who is to claim her?” Daemon reaches out to the servant who is holding his cloak. As he unfurls the cloak the crowd gasps at the sight of the cloak. The cloak was of a black fabric and looked velvety of texture. The dragon was made from red thread but in the light of the sun it seemed to reflect and glimmer. Just as your house cloak this one reached the ground as well. the chain that would hold the cloak around your shoulders was made of gold and the clasp was another dragon quite similar to the broach Daemon was wearing. He now understood why you were persistent on that dragon.

He stepped closer to you and your usually scent invaded his senses. He smiled at you and carefully wrapped the cloak around you before fasting it. His finger ghosted over the rounding of your breast before he dutifully stepped a step back. keeping the appropriate distance between the two of you. “With the exchange of cloaks, the bride has passed from the protection of her father into her husband’s protection.” The septon declares before moving to take up the wine cup.

He leads the prayer and blesses the cup before giving it to Daemon. Without breaking eye contact Daemon takes a sip out of the cup. tasting the bitter taste of the wine before swallowing it. He takes the cup to your lips and tentatively tilts it so you can take a sip out of it. “Let this wine be the first of many things they will share between them,” The septon once again declares before taking the cup away.

The septon then gestures for the bride and groom to take each other’s hands. “Repeat after me.” Daemon for the first time during the ceremony looks at the septon and from the corner of his eye he sees you doing the same. “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife.” Daemons eyes are back on yours while he repeats the septon. “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife.” You feel your cheeks warm at his words and can’t help but look at the way his lips move while speaking his vows. The septon now turns to you. “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lord and husband.” Without hesitation you repeat the words and intuitive take a step forwards. Daemon places his hand up your waist.

“Then in the power invested in me by the faith of the seven I declare you man and wife as they are one flesh, one heart, one soul now and forever and may they live a long and fruitful live.” Before the septon has even finished his speech Daemon pulls you into his chest. Your hand bracing for the impact lays on his chest. With his free hand he tilts your chin upwards and presses his lips against you. The world around you goes silent, no longer are you hearing the clapping of the invited lords and ladies. Your whole attention and senses are dedicated to the prince in your arms. A prince you can now proudly call yours. You feel his free hand roam its way down to your butt. The Septon clears his throat obviously uncomfortable at the sight of that and reluctant Daemon ends the kiss. “You are stuck with me, little troublemaker.” You smile up at him blissfully still in his warm embrace. “I would not have it any other way.”

___

Part 2

#daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #Daemon Targaryen #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen oneshot #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fancficton #house of the dragon imagine #game of thrones #hotd

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slaybestieslay946 · 2 months

Note

Luke Castellan and Persephone!Child (I know she doesn’t canonically have Demi-god kids but I feel like it fits well) with a story similar to Eurydice and Orpheus’s sad tale.

thank you so much for your request, it acc ties in really well to a fic idea ive had for a while, so i was so excited to see this in my inbox!!

Circle

MASTERLIST

word count: 1800

pairing: luke castellan x persephone!reader

warnings: death, minor depictions of violence, angst

a/n: partly inspired by the request, partly by mitski's song 'circle' honestly i think it made this extra gut-wrenching. hope you all enjoy!

'Nobody knows my lover, is buried underground.'

When Luke Castellan received his quest, everyone knew who he would pick to take with him.

Immediately, he turned to you, flashing you a bright grin, and beckoning you towards him. You laughed, wading through the crowd to your lover, smiling brightly all the way.

The rest of camp half blood rolled their eyes fondly at the pair of you, and just how disgustingly in love you were.

It had been like this ever since you arrived at camp half blood, mere months after Luke himself.

You’d been escorted to the Hermes cabin by one of the older campers, and sat down on a bunk bed. You had looked around the place, lost, confused, and homesick.

And then a boy stepped up to you, asking how you were, what your name was. And gods, even at the age of 14, you knew he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Luke thought the same about you.

He was so drawn to you, he couldn’t stay away.

Now, even 4 years later, nothing had changed.

He was openly enraptured by you, just as Hades was with your mother. He was never seen without you by his side, so of course he’d pick you to bring on his first quest.

A few days later, you set off, Luke’s half-brother, Chris Rodriguez in tow. Everything started off well, you’d managed to locate someone to tell you where the Garden of Hesperides was, in order to retrieve the golden apple that you had been sent for.

On the way there, you hardly encountered any monsters. You lived comfortably, even if you slept in motels every night, and dined on gas station food.

It all went downhill when you finally reached the garden.

You and Chris stood guard whilst Luke stepped towards the tree, no sword in his hand. You kept your spear gripped tightly in your hand, should he awake the dragon sleeping at his feet.

He eventually reached the foot of the tree, taking a deep breath before reaching up into the branches, and trying to snag one of the apples. Meanwhile, you didn’t take your eyes off the dragon, watching it for any sign of movement.

And when it finally opened its dark eye, looking up at Luke, you ran forward, sprinting towards it with your spear outstretched to stab it.

But you weren’t fast enough, and it turned, slashing a talon across your chest, and sending you collapsing onto the ground, blood soaking into your shirt.

Luke darted towards you and in his rush, he wasn’t able to avoid the sharp tail of the dragon whipping across his face, leaving a fine cut all the way down it.

He ignored the biting pain, barely able to register it when all he could see was you, lying on the floor, a pool of blood encircling you.

“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered, patting your cheek gently, cradling your body to his chest, “You’re gonna be alright, yeah? Just open your eyes for me baby.”

You struggled to do as he asked, looking up at your lover with confused eyes.

“You-” You coughed, “You have to go. It’s over for me. Gonna go see mom.”

“No, no. Gotta stay with me. We can get through this.” He cried, brushing his thumbs across your face.

“I- I- I love y-you. W-we’ll s-see each other ag-gain.” You did your best to smile, and while all you wanted to do was reach up and hold his face, you found you didn’t have the strength to do so.

He continued to cry and beg you to come back, but it was all for nothing, you’d gone silent, and your eyes were all still.

And then vines began to wrap around your body, pulling you into the earth, down towards Persephone, your mother.

Luke kept crying as they took you away from him, leaving nothing but your camp necklace behind.

“Hey, man, we gotta go.” He heard Chris call, and he whipped his head around to berate him, until he saw his half-brother was currently in combat with the dragon that had killed you.

He was right, they had to go.

He scooped your camp necklace off of the ground, and ran towards his brother, who detached from his fight with the dragon to run away from the garden. Luke followed after him, tears streaming down his face the whole way.

When Luke got back to camp, he was different. Numb.

Annabeth ran up to him when they descended the hill, a bright smile on her face at her older brother's return. It faded slightly when she saw you weren’t right beside him.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, looking around as if you’d pop out from nowhere.

“Gone.” Was all Luke could manage to say, pulling his little sister in for a hug he so desperately needed, confirmation that at least she was still here.

For the next few months, he barely left the Hermes cabin, only ever going down to the amphitheatre in the early hours of the morning, where he could be seen slashing recklessly at wooden dummies left right and centre.

He didn’t know how to live without you. He always thought you’d be with him forever. He had this vision that together you would grow old, and would die while sitting on some front porch, holding hands as you went at the same moment.

Now he realised that it was a pipedream. You were demigods, it was never going to work out like that.

But he couldn’t go on living like this. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning if you weren’t beside him. So he formed his plan, to go down to the underworld and retrieve you himself.

His father was the god of travellers, and your mother was the queen of the underworld. It could work.

So he travelled to the entrance to the underworld, your camp necklace in his hands, and prayed. First to your mother, asking for an audience, and second to his father, asking for use of his access to the underworld. It was the first time he had ever asked Hermes for anything, and if this worked, it would probably be the last. He’d never want for anything again if it meant you were with him again.

And it did work. The gate opened to him, a long staircase down into the darkness. Luke descended quickly; he didn’t want to keep Persephone, or you for that matter, waiting.

He soon found himself pushing through crowds of lost souls, keeping a look out for you, but you were nowhere in sight. He then turned his attention back to reaching Persephone’s throne, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally found himself at the foot of it, looking up at the goddess herself.

“You requested an audience with me, Mr Castellan. I hope this is not about my daughter.” Persephone said sternly, looking down at the demigod, her fears confirmed when she saw the string of beads clutched in his hands.

“It is, but-”

“There’s no buts. I can’t do anything about your predicament. It is not within my jurisdiction.” She declared, her voice growing regretful, “My daughter is in Elysium, and that’s where she must stay.”

“My lady, I understand that this is difficult for you. But we both know Y/N… died before her time. She would want to come back. She deserves to have a life.”

“And you would give that to her?”

“Yes.”

“And you would protect her, better than I can?”

Luke gulped, “Just as well.”

The goddess sighed, and muttered, almost to herself, “We have had this problem before, persuasive mortals and their tales of love. Let’s see if you can fare any better, Luke Castellan.”

“I will release my only daughter from the underworld, on one condition. As you lead her back into the world of the living, you mustn’t look back at her. She will be following you, trust me on that, demigod.”

“And if I do? Look back?”

“Then you will never see her again. Not in your world, nor mine,” She looked down at him once again, a sad look in her eyes, “Now go, exit through the fields of asphodel, she will follow you from there.”

Luke nodded firmly, and turned back around, returning the way he came, smiling more brightly than he had in months.

He was going to see his Y/N again, all he had to do was not look back at her, how difficult could that be?

He pushed his way back through the fields of asphodel, keeping a tight hold of her camp beads. As soon as they reached the surface, he would string them around her neck again. He’d be able to hold her face in his palms, to kiss her, to hug her. Everything would be alright again.

As he returned to the staircase, he felt a rush of wind behind him. It had to be her. Then, to confirm his suspicions, he heard soft footsteps on the stone staircase. Luke smiled to himself once again, wishing so desperately that he could greet her, but not wanting to break Persephone’s rules.

He continued up the staircase for what felt like hours, it was definitely taking him a lot longer this time. The thing that kept him going was your footsteps behind him, a reminder that you were still there, following after him.

Until they stopped, right as he became able to see the light coming from the living world above him.

He paused for a moment, listening out for you. But he couldn’t hear anything besides his panting breaths and the odd screech of a harpy.

Luke began to grow worried, a pit forming in his stomach, but he kept climbing the stairs. Persephone told him you’d be following, she wouldn’t lie, would she?

Or maybe it was all some elaborate joke. Fortune hadn’t been on his side recently.

Maybe he should check. Just a peek, it couldn’t hurt, could it? What was so wrong about him looking back anyway, why shouldn’t he want to see his lover, the girl he would do anything for?

So he did. He turned, to look over his shoulder.

And of course, you were right behind him, just like your mother said you would.

At first you looked joyful to see him, and then your face fell in horror as you realised what he had done. You reached out to touch him, to hold on, but you couldn’t quite reach. And then you felt yourself being pulled back, away from him.

Luke watched on in horror as you fell back into the abyss.

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #fanfic #pjo #luke castellan #x reader #angst #mitski #mitski circle #mitski lyrics

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muffinlance · 1 year

Note

Prompt: Azula joins Zuko on his Avatar hunt instead of Iroh. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I'm certain to be entertained by whatever follows.

Ozai and Ursa were already dead by the time Iroh arrived home. He stepped from his ship into the palanquin, and rode past the places of their execution, holding the urn of his son’s ashes.

He had no time to entrust them to the Fire Sages before his father summoned him. He brought them along, because this was an easier thing than setting them down. And perhaps Lu Ten’s grandfather would like to see him once more, outside of the family shrine. Iroh would have given anything—

He placed the urn on the floor next to him. It did not kneel when he did. Fire Lord Azulon surveyed him from behind the flames.

“Rise, my son. It is good to have you home.”

They did not speak of Lu Ten. His father had always been a man to look to the flames of the future, rather than the ashes of the past.

* * *

They hanged Ursa, as befitted her attempted crime, and her past station.

They burned Ozai, as befitted his. A child of Agni should always return to the flames.

The children of the traitors had been stricken from the family line. Had been placed in the capital prison; bait for the trap. Azulon was keeping close eye on those who expressed concern for the offspring of regicides. Ozai had expected support for his position; it would be Iroh’s second task to sift through the court, and discard the chaff.

His first task was a more practical resowing. Azulon had already selected a handful of candidates: women of suitable birth and known loyalties. The wedding date had been set, pending selection of the bride.

“Thank you, father,” Iroh said.

Lu Ten held his silence.

* * *

Azula had never liked the servants who’d fussed at her hair and clothes, who’d pulled and tugged until she was perfect, like perfect was a thing outside of her for others to bestow. She only had to look at Zuko to know how far tailored robes and well-oiled hair could take one.

She couldn’t see Zuzu from her cell. Her robes were too cold against the stone and every tug to wrap them tighter just made them worse, she could see it in the guards’ faces, the way they’d stared when she’d first arrived and looked a few days after and now they barely even saw. No one would talk to her, no matter her demands. They didn’t even stop their own conversations anymore; just slid in her food and kept walking and batted away her fires and it was cold here.

There were things crawling in her hair that her nails couldn’t dig out. Sometimes she thought she heard Zuzu yelling, but she couldn’t be sure. And it would have been undignified to yell back. She was a princess. She was fifth in line for the dragon throne.

Fourth, now that Lu Ten was dead.

Third, because father was, too.

He’d yelled and then he’d screamed and it hadn’t done anything but make the crowd jeer. Fire Lord Azulon had been silent. Poised. In control. She was his namesake and she would be too.

She was nine.

* * *

Zuko yelled until his throat burned. The guards didn’t care, they didn’t listen to him, which was nothing new. He shouted and shouted and his own ears hurt. Maybe that’s why he never heard Azula calling back.

Grandfather had made them watch when he’d killed father and, and—

If grandfather had Azula killed, he would have made Zuko watch that, too. Azula was probably just better at being a prisoner than he was. Maybe the guards even talked to her.

He was eleven.

* * *

Iroh’s new wife was a third his age. A flower just coming to bloom. She looked like his first wife; Azulon knew his preferences. She was young enough to be Lu Ten’s sister. She smiled and laughed each day with the other court wives, and came to his room with lists of possible dissenters to discuss in their marital bed. It was not the pillow talk he was used to, but it was charming, in its way. She liked to lay on her stomach and kick her feet above her as they traced the web of treachery with his dead brother at its center. She was here to have his children—a task at which she worked with admirable diligence—and to be the acting Fire Lady. She had not had to struggle and flaunt herself for his affections; she had been picked from a line-up, her expectations realistic, her motives aligned with his. It was the least romantic relationship Iroh had ever been part of. It was… refreshing.

On the day the palace doctor confirmed their newly budded line of succession, the Fire Lord called them both in for congratulations. And for pruning.

* * *

Zuko had turned twelve, but had not realized it. Azula had turned ten. She’d counted the days.

Iroh had not been able to visit them in prison; only to inquire as to their treatment. Individual cells, regular meals of reasonable quality, no abuses. He’d moved his own people into position to ensure the last.

Azulon had moved them back, after a delay for his soft-hearted son’s conscience. They could not waste loyal men on cuckoo-vipers. And Iroh could not waste his father’s good will. Not when it would be needed in the future, for the most important request.

* * *

“And your wife agrees to this?” asked the Fire Lord, behind his flames.

Iroh’s wife had not been directly addressed, and so did not reply. She sat in polite and perfect seiza, her head raised, as befitted the woman currently running her half of the court. Azulon had never seen fit to replace his own wife, after all.

“She does,” Iroh spoke for her. “We have spoken on the issue at length, and believe it best. Our family is small, and cannot afford to be smaller. The children are young; too young to have been in their parents’ confidences. With proper guidance—”

“And how would they place in the line of succession?” Azulon asked. “How would they chafe, how would they plot, with a decade’s experience over your eldest?”

Lu Ten’s own connections at court had been built while his cousins were still in diapers. But he was no longer Iroh’s eldest.

“We believe—”

“No,” his father interrupted again. “I will not allow their adoption. Not by you, where they could smother your own babe in the cradle, and certainly not by someone I trust less.”

Which was everyone, since the night his daughter-in-law had served him tea sent by his son.

“Father,” Iroh began, and his wife shifted her elbow just so, the only indication that she wished to dig it into his ribcage. “They are young, and innocent. They are my beloved nephew and niece. Your grandchildren. We cannot in good conscience—”

‘Good conscience’ had never factored into his father’s policies. Iroh had… begun to realize that, of late. His wife let out a small sigh, deliberately audible only to the man next to her. She had cautioned very strongly against a—how had she put it?—a feelings-based approach to this situation. Feelings rarely factored into her own decisions. She had been hand-selected by his father, after all.

His wife went into a half-bow, her head lowered. “May I speak, my lord?”

The flames crackled. The shadow of his father inclined its head, just slightly.

“To kill the children is wise, and I admit, would set my mind at ease for my own child’s sake. But my husband feels strongly on this matter, and so I support him, for his happiness is my own. May I suggest a compromise? To place them outside the court, where they cannot build influence, nor harm your son’s heirs. A position from which you can judge their characters and value to the nation as they grow.”

“You suggest banishment,” the Fire Lord said.

“Not unstructured, of course. To leave them roaming freely would invite those that would take them in. Perhaps a military commission? As they are commoners, they should begin from a rank befitting their station, of course. Let them prove their worth on their own merit.”

Iroh could not see through the flames, but he knew his wife’s small smile was reflected on his father’s face.

“A naval position,” the Fire Lord said. “On a ship that does not frequently make port. The frontlines would be the best place for them to prove themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”

Iroh closed his eyes.

“Father,” he said. “Please,” and he could feel his wife willing him to stop talking. The Fire Lord had already agreed to spare their lives. A banishment could be undone, so long as he and the children both outlived the man before them. “I… thank you for your wisdom in this ruling. But perhaps, if they complete some feat worthy of our line, they could be allowed to return?”

The flames were hot against his face. His new wife was still and silent against his side. His father… his father laughed, a low exhalation, the wheeze of a humorless old man.

“Let them bring me the Avatar,” Fire Lord Azulon said, “and I will welcome them home with honor.”

* * *

Zuko didn’t know why they’d pulled him from his cell or scrubbed him down or taken his old clothes. They’d been dirty but they could have been cleaned. His new clothes were scratchy, and too big, and they looked like a common soldier’s, and… and—

And they’d shaved his hair.

* * *

It had gotten rid of the bugs, Azula admitted, in the privacy of her own mind. Still. She memorized the faces of the woman who’d held her down and the man who’d shorn her. For future reference.

They hadn’t bothered sizing her new outfit for a child. Azula noted the quartermaster’s face, as well.

* * *

They were put on a ship. It was the first time they’d seen each other in nearly a year.

Zuzu looked at her head, and wisely said nothing.

She raised an eyebrow at his, and graciously granted him the same.

It was hard to tell them apart. They had their mother’s face. And their father’s.

* * *

Their captain’s name was Zhao. He invited them to dinner in his private quarters, once the Fire Nation was behind them. Zuko fidgeted. Azula didn’t.

The captain spoke on how much potential he saw in them, under a commander who saw their true value.

Together, they could go far. Very far, indeed.

Azula smiled and said all the things she thought father would have said. Zuko scowled.

Zhao brushed over their arms with his own while reaching for things. He served them more when they said they were already full. He squeezed their shoulders when he brought them back to their rooms, which were next to his, even though the rest of the lower crewmen slept together in the same big cabin. Zuko scowled harder.

Azula was invited back. Zuko wasn’t.

* * *

Zhao was… Zhao wasn’t a good person.

“I know that, dum-dum. But do you want to stay banished forever?”

“Uncle said—”

“Uncle’s going to change his mind, when he has his own heir and a spare. We’re threats, Zuzu. And Zhao knows father’s old friends. He’s one of the smart ones.”

The dumb ones had already been executed.

“I… I think he wants to—to tie himself to the royal line.”

“Eww,” she said. “I’m ten. If he wants to get engaged, I’ll just break it when we’ve got the throne. It will be too late for him to retract his support, then.”

They’d barely left port before Zhao had made his first move. He didn’t seem like a man who waited.

Azula was ten, but Zuko was twelve. Being twelve was almost thirteen, which was almost a teenager, which was almost an adult, and adults understood things that ten year olds didn’t.

They had to get off this ship. They had to go home.

Zuko had to find the Avatar.

* * *

(This ficlet is now posted on AO3.)

#are you not entertained?#eventually this one will be a Fire Lord Iroh AU #better hope he gets that throne quick <3 #Happy Ending: and then they joined the southern raiders just as Hakoda was setting sail #and Hakoda was unprepared for these feral fuzzy-headed children suddenly on his ship #Bad Ending: and then they joined the southern raiders when Zuko was sixteen and Azula was fourteen #after four years with Zhao #Zuko: *shakes Aang until he glows then yeets him at Zhao like a grenade*#Azula: that's a good first step to being my favorite brother #but I still don't have a crown in my hair Zuzu #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Zuko #Azula #Iroh #I actually really like Iroh's new wife?#RIP one-off OC I'll probably never use again #you are the politically climbing aro-ace rep we deserve #New Wife: sure I'll exchange my firstborn for ultimate power in my nation #wait I can keep the kid too?#sweet deal #ficlet #Cuckoo-Vipers

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moris-auri · 4 months

Text

King and Lionheart

Aemond x reader (mentions of Aegon x reader)

WC: 3k

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+, p in v sex, explicit

Prince Aemond has summoned you.

It is the last thing she expects.

To be summoned by Aegon is one thing, but by his brother? The very thought of it fills her stomach with a sense of dread that she’s not felt for ages. Her stomach twists unpleasantly, a wave of bile rising like sour wine in the back of her throat, tasting bitterly like the food she’d eaten not that long ago.

She glances downward, seeing but not seeing the words etched onto the pages of the tome settled atop her knees, fingers tightening as she grips the spine of it with near whitened knuckles. The action makes a twinge of pain shoot up her arm and she all but pushes the book to the side, uncaring when it lands by her feet with a dull thud, flexing her hand to dispel the ache.

In the weeks and months since she, a girl with no background or family, had first set foot here, in the halls of the keep that had become little more than a gilded cage after she had caught the eye of the King’s firstborn son, she cannot recall one instance where he has spoken or so much as looked at her save for brief, almost dismissive glances.

Not that she expects anything of him, of course. He is as much of a stranger to her as she is to him, and in all truth, she prefers it that way, the near anonymity she has despite the more than open knowledge of her position within the royal household as Prince Aegon’s paramour.

She has heard rumors about him, though, the one-eyed Prince. She knows, just as well as everyone in the Keep, what had happened to him, the boy who lost his eye claiming a dragon - though she does not say that out loud. She has heard tales that he is as callous as he is cruel, that he is as much a scholar as he is a soldier, the rider of the largest dragon in the realm. She ignores them, for who is she to put stock in words spoken from the mouths of courtiers?

The day all but flashes by, her mind empty of nothing but the sentence that rings in her head like a bell. It echoes over and over and over again as she wanders the Keep like a ghost before retreating back to her bedchamber, pacing back and forth restlessly, twisting the blue fabric of her sleeves between her fingers.

Prince Aemond has summoned you.

Before she knows it, the sun is bathing the sky in vivid shades of orange and red as night falls, and that dread returns, bringing with it an anxiousness that pools syrup sweet low in her stomach. It feels ominous this time, and her unease grows as she follows behind the nameless servant given the task of escorting her to his rooms, their path guided through the empty corridors by the dim flickering of the sole lantern dangling in front of her.

She keeps her eyes focused straight ahead, gaze locked on the pale headpiece, feeling her heart thud behind her ribs when the doors suddenly loom in front of her, and she barely notices when the other servant turns, duty done, growing smaller before disappearing behind a corner altogether.

She lifts her hand, fighting the nerves as her trembling fingers wrap around one of the iron door knobs, the thump of the door closing behind her as loud as a drum.

“Come closer.”

She has barely stepped foot inside, barely has the chance to look around before the command comes, almost immediately, sliding over her like frigid water, all but freezing the blood in her veins to icy tendrils. Stiffening, there is little she can do but turn, forcing her suddenly leaden feet carry her towards his direction.

“Prince Aemond.” Somehow she manages to keep her voice flat, concealing the thoughts churning inside her roughly like the waves of Blackwater Bay.

“So you are my brother’s bedmate.” There is no malice to his words, only an unmistakable curiosity, and that alone, miniscule as it is, is enough to make some of her unease fade to a faint, lingering wariness in the back of her mind.

“What do you want, my Prince?” She gritted out, feeling like an animal backed against a wall.

“To see what has thoroughly enthralled my brother, is all,” he murmured, drumming his fingers one more time before sitting forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “My brother is as fickle as they come, as I'm sure you’re aware.”

She smiled, though it was little more of a grimace, a tense curl of her mouth, his insinuation not lost on her. “I am, yes.”

He hums at that, almost as if he’s amused by her, his hands returning to the arms of the chair before he goes quiet again, yet his eye remains locked on her face. She can feel the heat of it against her skin as she lets her gaze drift over him, sliding over the silver of his hair and the black eyepatch before dropping to take in the almost elegant way he sits in the chair, languid and half relaxed, one leg crossed over the other.

“If that is all, my Prince-” She raises a brow, carefully keeping her voice courteous, watching as his eye flicks upward, the almost assessing look in it as sharp as any sword.

“No,” he muttered quietly, shaking his head, strands of his silver hair sliding over his shoulders like water as he shifted, unfolding himself from the chair to turn away from her, stalking towards the ornately carved desk.

She all but seizes his brief distraction with both hands, taking the time to glance over his chamber as her curiosity gets the better of her. Nearly every inch of it is filled with items that befit his royal status, down to the drapery, the tapestries on the walls depicting some scene from Old Valyria to the rich velvet hangings around the dark wood of the bed against one wall.

She startles at the sound of the heel of his boots scuffing against the stones as he turns around, drawing her attention away from the wall to wall shelves filled top to bottom with books and scrolls in a heartbeat. His eye widens for a split second in surprise, his gaze following the direction of her gaze before his expression flattens back into something unreadable, yet she can see it though as she leaves, the slow flickerings of interest swirling in the depths of his eye that he doesn’t suppress.

The next time he sends a servant to bring her to him is days later. She knows why this time, knows without a doubt the reason for why he wants to see her. For despite the Queen’s dogged attempts to silence and squash the rumors, they are all over the Keep by now, from the high bred courtiers all the way down to the servants’ quarters, the knowledge of his brother’s proclivities for over indulging.

Unlike the first time, he isn’t in the chair situated when she enters. Instead, his voice comes from the corner, quiet and faint, drifting on the near nonexistent breeze floating in through the open windows like a feather, his silver hair bright against the dark of the bookshelves he stands in front of.

“My Prince.”

He let out a low hum in acknowledgment, the sound near indistinguishable over the crackling pops of the wood in the hearth, but didn't turn around. She drifted closer, the refraction of light off the gilded words imbued into the leather binding drawing her in like a beacon, a moth to an open flame.

It was near impossible to ignore the heat coming from him as she stills beside him. “What book is it?” she gestured loosely towards it.

He turned to answer, lips parting with the words on the tip of his tongue, only for his eye to dart down to her throat, narrowing at the sight of a fading bruise. His fingers lifted, brushing back the curtain of her hair as he leaned closer, his breath puffs of warm air against her skin. “Did he hurt you?”

She could practically hear his teeth grind in his attempt to keep his anger at bay. Her cheeks flushed with color as she shied away, more than desperate to put even the smallest amount of distance between them.

“No.” She bit the inside of her cheek, her voice sounding higher than she meant it to, suddenly threaded with nerves. “He’s never been harsh, though you know as well as I do that it's worse when he’s in his cups.” she exhaled, unwilling to say more.

He made that sound again, the hum, though this one was harsher, rougher. “Aegon-” she started to say, fingers brushing over the leather of his forearm, but whatever she meant next to say was cut off, and she fell silent when he raised his hand, agitation burning in his eye as he looked down at her.

“Aegon is a fool,” he all but snapped. She could hear it clear of day, the way his tone shifted, going from soft and quiet to harsh and rasping in barely a second, bitterness woven between the words like the tightly spun silk threads of a loom. “Blind to see what is right in front of him, handed on a silver platter.”

He began to pace, his arms behind his back. His posture was as stiff as wood, the expression on his face tight, and coupled with the way the light from the fire and the shadows lit the angles of his face, he was nothing sort of ethereal, lovely in that strange way all Targaryens were.

He spun on her, a blur of black and silver, the harshness bleeding from his face slightly, giving way to the barest hint of desperation. “If I offered you coin for passage? Would you take it?” He scooped up a pouch on the surface of his desk, shaking the bag lightly, yet firmly enough to make the contents clink inside it, and her lips parted, eyes widening at the sight of it. “You’d be free. Free to go anywhere you wish,” he added, almost too quiet for her to hear.

She swallowed, caught by surprise. “Where would I go? He will not let me go quite so easily-”

“Leave my brother to me.” She turned her face up to his again, a question in her eyes, watching as he took a step towards her.

Suddenly he was so close. Too close, with little more than a hairsbreadth between them, and the proximity was enough to make her head spin and every thought inside it disappear.

She wondered what kissing him felt like, and she looked down, feeling the weight of his hand settle on her hip, the calluses on his palm scratching against the fabric.

“What-”

Her breath caught, freezing for a split second in her chest when his lips brushed hers, tentatively at first, before pressing more insistently against hers. She let out a squeak, startled when she felt the chill of the wooden shelf flush against her back, bleeding through her dress, making a wave of gooseflesh rise over her skin.

“Aegon-”

Aemond hissed something unintelligible against her mouth at the mention of his brother’s name, the fingers of one hand digging into her side to keep her still, the other twisting into the hair at the base of her skull, tugging the strands from the loosely done braid. She gasped, fingers instinctively lifting to press against his shoulder blades, the sudden, sharp smell of him enveloping her completely in a cloud of spice and leather and dragon smoke that was so unlike the sole smell of wine that clung to Aegon like a second skin, drowning out everything else.

“Aegon… can… oh Gods-” he panted, choking on the words. He sounded half out of breath, and she thinks she’s never heard a prettier sound, pulling back just in time to watch color bleed over the high curve of his cheekbones, painting a ruddy stain against his pale skin.

It barely feels like hardly any time has passed before he is flush against her once again as he chases her mouth, greedy and wanting, his hand untangling from her hair to curl around her jaw. His kisses are softer this time, and she sighs against his mouth, the wild, erratic thumping of her heart lessening with each second that went by. The desire that had burned inside her was still there, but it was fainter now, little more than a dull ache between her thighs.

She doubts that she sounds any better than he does at that moment, her heart thudding wildly against her ribcage, more than thankful for the hard wood behind her.

He let go of her when she pushed at his chest, once, twice, the heat from his body fading as the distance between them grew. She half turned away from him, slumping backward as she pressed the side of her face against the cold wood, eyes closing halfway in relief.

Aemond’s promise rings true as Aegon grows more and more disinterested in her as the months go by, his attention sloughing away from her like melting ice, like she was some shiny bauble that had lost its luster.

Some part of her should hate him for it, how easy he did it too, but she doesn’t truly mind it. It’s almost freeing in a sense, the way the attention on her dies, fading to nothing as if it had never been on her at all.

“Please-” she fought the not quite whine clawing its way up her throat, her hands fisted against his chest as her moans reached a near fever pitch, echoing loudly in her ears, silenced in a heartbeat by the hand that covers her mouth.

“Do you want them to hear you? Hmm?” His chest is flush against her back, chin digging into the curve of her shoulder as he hisses in her ear, breath fanning over her skin.

“N-no…” she says, exhales more like, so faint is her voice, and all she can do is bite her lip, pulling it between her teeth to keep silent as she grips the edge of the table tightly with one hand, the other digging into the back of his neck as the desire burning hotly under her skin all but turns into an inferno, licking a trail up her spine.

“Sȳz riña.” His hand falls away when she goes quiet once again, dipping under the dark red fabric of her skirts, tracing a path up the inside of her thigh as he hums against her, a smug, pleased sound. The weight of him against her is the only thing keeping her upright, half ready to collapse to her knees in a pool of red.

He'd grown insatiable since that night, and the ones that succeeded it, one after the other, were proof that the blood of the dragon ran hot indeed. It was as if every touch from him, every kiss, every brush of his fingers on some part of her body set her nerves alight in a way Aegon’s hadn’t. He was addicted, taking her on nearly every surface in his chamber, on stone and wood and fabric, splitting her open on his fingers as her moans echoed off the four walls like bells in the Sept.

Possessive; a dragon in all sense of the word.

The sweat hasn’t yet dried on their skin when the urge to kiss him returns, and she gives into it without a second thought or a moment’s hesitation, pressing her lips to the very edge of his mouth, biting the inside of her cheek when he lets out a ragged breath, his arm tightening around her waist before he all but pulls her on top of him. Her legs tangle with his, fingers moving as light as a feather over the muscle and sinew shifting just under his skin to weave into his hair, tugging at the strands.

He hisses at the sensation, the ends of his fingers digging into the flesh of her sides as he kisses her again. “So perfect,” he half groans the words, his voice rasping against the shell of her ear, his breath fanning across her face when he pulls back for air minutes later, and the sight of his eye, blown wide, the violet of his iris all but an indistinguishable parchment thin circle, draws a low whine from her chest.

She moaned his name again, mindlessly dragging one leg up, pressing the heel of her foot against his back. His responding groan reverberated inside her head, one arm curling around the width of his shoulders as his forehead dropped, pressing into the hollow of her throat, one hand skirting up blindly to knead at her breast as his fingers tightened in her hair.

Her hand drifts, edging lower before stilling at the base of his throat, feeling his pulse thrum against them. He was so very pretty in this light, she mused, watching the shadows dance over the planes of his face. Her hand started to grow numb again, the ends of her fingers tingling with the threat of falling asleep on her, and she curled against his side, cheek flush to his chest as she feels his fingers begin to trace up and down the curve of her spine lightly, drawing gooseflesh as she shudders.

She could lose herself on nights like this, bathed in the glow of the setting sun that shines in through the curtains, caught up in nothing but Aemond and the feel of his body moving against hers. Could easily ignore the voice in the back of her mind that lingers almost constantly, the nagging fear that this won’t last, that it is nothing more than a fever dream.

taglist: @black-dread @bottlesandbarricades @chompchompluke @officerbrowneyes @orcaunionleader @zae5 @barbieaemond @lexwolfhale @sylasthegrim @helaelaemond @hamatoanne @queen--kenobi @toms-cherry-trees

(bold i cannot tag)

#my fics #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen smut

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old-archivist · 2 years

Text

Foods of Thedas: Comics

So, while you wait for the multi-post compilation of food, I thought I could share the stuff I'm grabbing stuff from the newest comics - Magekiller, Knight Errant, Deception, and Blue Wraith. Those comics being the only ones with food clearly displayed. There are some that are pretty easy to identify, some that aren’t.

So, I’ve gathered some images and I’ve shoved it below the cut cause this post is long and image heavy.

Croissants in Deception.

Continuing with Deception, this is taking place in Tevinter. We see figs, pears, grapes, a gourd or squash of some type, and purple fruits up front that I shouldn’t hazard a guess with (I’m banking on dates or currants).

Cupcakes, cookies, and what looks to be sugar cake and chocolate cake. (Magekiller)

Same scene as previous. This platter has candy canes, macaroons, more cupcakes, some type of cookies, what looks to be an “old fashioned” donut and another croissant. (Magekiller)

This is a scene in Kirkwall, featuring tomatoes, sausage, salad, roast bird (I’m guessing turkey, yellow rind cheese, and some sort of topped cookie. (Knight Errant)

This shot is from Starkhaven. We see suckling pig, grapes, apples, orange rind cheese, another platter of meat that is hard to identify. (Knight Errant)

Same scene as the previous panel from a different angle. This including bananas, grapes, apples, orange, an orange rind and a yellow-brown rind cheese. (Knight Errant)

This image and the next two I find interesting. They’re all in the same market, Edgehall in Ferelden. What is interesting to me is that they clearly have bananas, pears, and oranges. Fruits that need warmer weather and also longer growing seasons. Oranges and Pears are possible in Ferelden though, if they do espalier. Which I talk about in this post. Essentially, it’s a trellising method where you prune growing trees so they are more 2 dimensional, usually placed against walls. This allows them to be more productive, easier to manage, and by placing them against warm brick walls, allows them to survive colder climates. It does takes a few years to reach a “mature” tree that way, but the benefits are substantial.

Canonically we only espalier in Orlais, specifically in Val Royeaux. Even then they seem more decorative. But given the amount of warm climate fruit readily available in Ferelden, I’m betting they also practice it.

As for the other produce in the market we see in this image, it looks like potatoes, Vaea is wheeling a cart of red fruit (apples I think) and someone else is selling a crate of red fruit as well. (Knight Errant)

Following Vaea through the market we see sausage, some more cured meat hanging from the shops, oranges, pots of seasoning that looks to be either sugar or salt. And an semi-hard cheese. (Knight Errant)

Last panel for Edgehall’s market, we see more potatoes, apples, and pears with a few strings of garlic and sacs of food. (Knight Errant)

These last three images are clear shots of food that I honestly only have theories for and are thus speculative.

Through out Deception, you see these rolls of green things on the table. I have no idea what they might be. They do make me think of that food dolma, stuffed grape leaves. But I can’t say for sure. (Hello Dorian)

Unidentified meat, probably a type of poultry leg, and what looks to either be flat bread or something green. (Deception)

Then there is this cheese, and I’m thinking it’s either Gouda or Edam, which like Gouda is a semi-hard dutch cheese. They often have the same wine and food pairings. (Blue Wraith)

#dragon age meta #dragon age comics #dragon age magekiller #dragon age deception #dragon age knight errant #dragon age blue wraith #Foods of The Dragon Age Setting #foods of Thedas #long post #Archi is Archiving #Dorian #Vaea

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starogeorgina · 6 months

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White knight

Paring: Criston Cole × OC

Warnings: HOTD spoilers, age gap

Note: Criston and Rhaenyra never got it on in this universe!!!

1.01

“Princess, please, you must-”

You wave the servant away, no longer wanting to hear her beg you to eat. It didn’t matter what delicious-looking foods were brought before you; you simply had no appetite. You had spent every day since the battle of rook’s rest staring out the window, praying and hoping that your family would come to rescue, but you doubted that would happen.

You arrived at the battle too late and saw the red queen, Meleys, go down with your grandmother as both Sunfyre and Vhagar blasted them in flames. You ordered your she-dragon to attack; Sunfyre was badly wounded, with one wing torn in half, while the dragon rider's body was badly burned down one side. You could have killed the usurper if it weren’t for Vhagar, who tore your beloved dragon in two. You survived the fall but were unable to unstrap yourself in time to get away before being seized by knights, and ever since you have been a hostage in the keep.

You feel a presence behind you and already know who it is before they speak. “You need to eat to survive, princess.”

“I’ve already lost Lucerys, my grandmother, and my dragon, and now I’m going to lose three of my brothers. Living isn’t something I strive for, Ser Criston.”

“If you don’t eat, the queen dowager will have someone force feed you, and I do not wish to see you suffer that.”

“I shall give my half-sister’s ‘Sweet Visenya’ to my brother Prince Aemond as a reward.”

Your uncle’s words echo in your head. It made you nauseous to think about being handed over like a prized possession. Not only would Aemond take a son from your mother, he would take her daughter’s virginity.

“You may go, Ser Cristion. I’d rather be alone while I await to hear my uncle’s bragging about how—how they have—“ your voice begins to break. Otto had sought an alliance with the Triarchy, which had gone to the Gullet, which was being blockaded by House Velaryon. You had heard that your brothers, Aegon and Viserys, were meant to be fostered until the war was over.

Knowing Jacaerys would immediately fly on the dragonback to save his brothers, the greens had set up a trap to kill him.

The pain of knowing what fate awaited your three brothers was devastating, and the fact that you were unable to help them tore your heart apart. You loved them so much and couldn’t imagine the pain of losing another sibling; the loss of Lucerys already weighed heavily on you. Your sweet brothers are soon to be gone. You look out into the darkness, not wanting the knight to see you cry.

“The battle has started, princess, but it’s not yet finished. There’s still hope.”

You turn to shoot him a glare; the knight's expression is hard to read as he stares into your bloodshot eyes. He was green, and no matter how kind he may pretend to be at times, that would never change.

—

You remain sealed away in the bedchamber you often sought to escape from to try and remain as safe as possible.

In a twist of events, the battle of the gullet was a success for your family; the blacks won the battle, and Jace, Aegon, and Viserys survived. Vermax was lost at sea—a crossbow through the neck, you believe—but Jacaerys was alive. Someone had sent a raven to Dragonstone informing your mother and Daemon of Otto’s plan, and they sent all the dragon riders to defend your brothers. A few dragonseeds, your mother, Jacaerys, and Daemon arrived and burned the Triarchy.

Obviously, you were ecstatic to learn what had happened; however, the people you were surrounded by were not. You had already been questioned twice about any belongings you had rummaged through to see if there was any evidence you had sent the raven.

In truth, you had no idea who would have sent it, but it made you feel better knowing you had an ally. Even if their identity was secret.

—

Squeezing your eyes shut, you enjoy the feeling of warm water easing the pain in your joints. This was also the first time you’d bathed without supervision since being dragged back to keep. Even with a lady in the room, Ser Cristion would stand in the room facing the opposite way while you bathed. You suspected he would be lingering close by, but at least you were given the privacy you deserved.

Once Tatiana, the lady-in-waiting assigned to you, helps you dress while being careful not to put any pressure on your cuts and bruises, she leaves to fetch you some supper, which you were exceedingly keen for. Sometimes you’d accompany Tatiana to the kitchens through lesser-known halls and passageways, but since you were unsure of where Alicent and her sons were, you decided it was best to stay out of the way to avoid any accidental run-ins.

When the door opens, you only see Tatiana, but Ser Cristion enters the room. “I’m glad to be informed you are eating again, princess.”

You roll your eyes. The knight didn’t care if you ate or not; he was just trying to lure you into a false sense of security. You walk towards a small table and trace your fingers over the books that were neatly placed on it. You inspect the dust on your finger before cleaning it away with a tissue. This was how most interactions with the knight went: he’d talk to you, and you’d ignore him.

“You must be thrilled to hear your brothers are safe.”

Even though there were no traces of sarcasm in his voice, you knew his comment was sincere. The knight, along with the former queen, has spent years calling you and your siblings bastards. You reply with a scoff.

“I know you think I’m a monster, princess, but perhaps one day you will see things differently.”

His comment irritates you; how dare he even think such a thing?

“Why would I ever change my opinion of you?” You helped usurp my mother's crown,” you practically hiss at him. “Not to mention it was you who suggested I be brought back as a prisoner.”

He licks at his lips nervously and says, “One day I will be the only one that stands between you and Prince Aegon and Aemond. I suspect you will think differently of me then.”

Before you can reply, Tatiana returns, and Ser Cristion takes it as his cue to leave. His worlds replay in your mind; he called Aegon a prince, not a king.

#house of the dragon #criston cole x you #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #ser criston cole #criston cole #Ser Criston Cole/you #Ser Criston Cole x you #white knight #criston cole x oc #Criston Cole x fem oc #Criston Cole/oc #Ser Criston Cole x oc #Ser Criston Cole/oc #Ser Criston Cole x fem oc

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minkydinks · 7 months

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SilkWings

In my headcanon of WoF, SilkWings are tall, elegant, passive dragons that resemble insects from the order Lepidoptera (butterflies & moths).

They are the largest tribe in Pantala, but are actually quite a bit smaller than most tribes in their neighboring continent, Pyrrhia.

Despite being much taller than their HiveWing hosts, SilkWings keep their heads held low to show consideration for their position within the hives. It's seen as a common courtesy to keep this posture around HiveWing superiors, officials and royalty, but is not required for standard citizens. SilkWings are taught this posture from an early age.

SilkWings come in any color under the sun. The whole rainbow at the same time, on occasion. Although black is a fairly uncommon color, it is still very possible, and is usually seen on SilkWings with a direct descent from ancient black dragons.

SilkWings are hatched with three pairs of limbs, like HiveWings; but their middle pair of arms become their wings during metamorphosis. During dragonethood, this extra set of arms is essential to staying safe as they traverse the webs they live in. However, when not climbing, they can often trip up the dragonets they belong to.

Each SilkWing has completely unique wings. Unless they're twins from the same egg, no two have the same shape, patterns, or colors. Some SilkWings might have trailing tails at the ends of their wings; like a Long-Tailed Skipper. While others might have short, rounded wings; like the Round-Winged Vagrant. Some may be opaque and bright, others two-sided. Some even transparent and glassy, like a Glasswing butterfly.

Unlike most other dragons as well, SilkWings have very short, round snouts; although their tongues are astonishingly long, and are designed for drinking nectar from large flowers and fruits. However, due to the HiveWings' dominance over their land, and the lack of most lush flora, SilkWings rely exclusively on HiveWings to provide them with the food they need through foraging.

#wof #wings of fire #silkwings #dragon #wof art #wof tribe redesign

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exhausted-archivist · 6 months

Text

All Lore from the Dragon Age: Official Cookbook: Taste of Thedas

This is going to be a long post with all the lore from the cookbook collected in one post. This is only going to be counting the lore in the "blurbs" so to speak as the actual recipes themselves, which are not meant to be set in-world.

Additionally, it should be noted that I am unable to say one way or the other if the props used in the photos or the etching art shown on some recipes are to be taken as reflecting the canon the cookbook narrator is in. For the sake of completeness, I have included the less conclusive elements.

Shoving everything below the cut for length as well as to help people avoid spoilers. Think I got everything... There is a lot in this book honestly.

Cookbook Lore

World State

Cassandra is Divine.

The Hero of Ferelden is a Cousland Warden.

The Warden gave Leliana Schmooples.

Hawke is a non-mage, as Varric knows Bethany.

Hawke is diplomatic in personality.

Bull's Chargers, Krem, and Bull are all alive.

Cullen stayed off lyrium.

Celene is empress; Briala and Gaspard are still alive.

Alistair is king.

Varric is viscount.

Uncertain aspects of the world state:

The suggested lore based on the art, props used in photos, and vague wording in blurbs. These are not for certain this is the canon.

Briala is described as a spymaster and lover, implying she was possibly reunited with Celene.

Celene, Briala, and Gaspard are possibly working together in the truce. But the wording is vague it could simply be Celene ruling alone while Briala and Gaspard live.

Cole was encouraged to be more human and is traveling with Maryden Halewell.

Cullen got his mabari.

Josephine was romanced by the Inquisitor.

Morrigan has Keiran.

The Hero of Ferelden romanced King Alistair.

Food Lore

Lentils and onions are common ingredients to find in pantries across Thedas.

Ferelden has reliable access to tomatoes that allows them to use them regularly in their food.

Fereldans are known for their love of soups, stews, pickled eggs, and turnips that it is regularly joked about and seen as a stereotype. Devon regularly comments on the known expectations.

Turnip and Mutton Pie is a classic Fereldan dish served in taverns across the nation.

Nevarra food culture holds that food is suppose to be a feast for the eyes and mouth. Leading to their plating to be dazzling and seen as works of art.

The Jade Ham, is a smoked Anderfels ham with a particular glaze made from wildflowers and turns the ham as hard as jade.

The Anderfels are hostile and often considered inhospitible in certain areas. But despite the harsh environment, pigs farm well there and as a result are much larger than elsewhere in Thedas.

There are custard connoisseurs across Thedas.

Lichen ale is toxic, though most dwarves are able to handle it. However, non-dwarves can only tolerate a few sips of the drink.

Isabela has a drinking game based on how many enemies you have, it has killed at least one person.

The Rivaini tea blend is said to have healing properties such as helping alleviate headaches.

Dwarves underground raise giant spiders like people on the surface raise cattle and goats.

Orzammar has a contest where one is crowned as Orzammar's Best Sauce, the competition is so fierce people get underhanded in their attempts to acquire recipes. This has led to eateries, and in general people of Orzammar, to guard their recipes from others.

Orzammar also farms various mushrooms for eating.

Rice is commonly found in Antiva and Rivain, however it is not a large export for Antiva so it is a rare grain for folks in Ferelden. Due to it not being exported, rice is a cheap food item in Antiva and is very common in the more mundane foods of commoners.

Wyvern, like phoenix, can become deadly poisonous if eaten when they aren't prepared properly.

A jam maker lives in Orzammar, importing individual ingredients so they can make the jam themselves and hopefully sell it cheaper than imported jam.

Fauna

Mentioned through out the cookbook, not necessarily as ingredients themselves but sources for other food items.

Ayesleigh gulabi goat - Rivain

Cattle

Cave Beetles - Underground

Chicken

Crab

Cuttlefish

Dracolisk

Giant

Giant Spider

Goat

Gurgut

Halla

Lamprey

Lurker

Mackerel

Mussel

Nug

Pig

Prawn

Quillback

Sheep

Shrimp

Snail

Turkey

Wyvern

Additional Lore

The golden nug statues do exist in Thedas, Devon mentions seeing one in Haven and hearing rumors of there being more.

Fereldans who worked for the Inquisition would leave Commander Cullen pickled eggs on his desk while he was going through the worst of his lyrium withdrawal symptoms.

Spring time is gurgut mating season, and travelers are advised to keep their distance.

Starkhaven is oval in shape, shaped by rings of tall, grey stone walls, is filled with lavish estates, fountains, and sits on the Minanter River.

Makes reference to the ambient events of where Cole dumped a bushel of turnips onto a fire.

Food: Dishes, Ingredients, and More

Foods/Dishes

These are mentioned, referenced, and/or introduced in the cookbook description of the food, these aren't including the ingredients or foods mentioned in the recipes.

If the item is marked with **, it means there are multiple cultures with the same dish but the cookbook is offering specifically that as the reference point.

Apple Grenade - Antiva

Bark Bread - suggested alternative to black lichen

Biscuit

Biscuit, sweets

Black Lichen Bread - Orzammar

Blancmange - a white pudding dish from Orlais

Blood Orange Salad - Nevarra

Boiled Turnip

Bun

Bun, sweet - a pastry served as dessert

Cabbage Soup - Ferelden

Cacio e Pepe

Cherry Sauce

Cherry Cupcakes - Tevinter

Chocolate Cake

Chocolate Cream

Cinnamon Rolls

Couscous Salad - Rivain

Crab Cakes - Kirkwall

Croissant - Orlais

Crow Feed - Antiva

Custard

Dark Bread

Eggs à la Val Foret - Orlais

Fish Chowder - Antiva

Fish Wraps/Fish Pockets - Seheron

Flat Bread - Nevarra

Fluffy Mackerel Pudding - Ferelden

Forest Fruit Cobbler - Dalish

Found Cake - Ferelden

Fried Crab Legs - a substitute version of fried young giant spiders

Fried Young Giant Spiders - Orzammar

Gnocchi - Antiva

Goat Custard - Rivain **

Grilled Poussin - Chasind

Gurgut Roast with Lowlander Spices and Mushroom Sauce - Avvar

Hearth Cakes - Dalish

Hearty Scones - Ferelden

Honey Carrots - Orlais **

Jade Ham - More suited for a weapon, stated to not be suited for eating.

Lamprey Cake - not made of real lamprey, just a cake modeled after it.

Lentil Soup - City Elf **

Llomerryn Red - Rivain

Mashed Turnip

Merrill's Blood Soup - Dalish

Mushroom Sauce

Nettle Soup - origins unclear

Nug Bacon and Egg Pie - Ferelden

Paella - Antiva

Pastry Pockets - recipe originates with the Grey Wardens, cookbook provides the Orlesian Grey Warden variation **

Peasant Bread - Orlais

Pickled Eggs - Ferelden

Pickled Lamprey - Free Marches

Poached Egg

Poison Stings - Chocolate-coated orange peels from Tevinter

Potato and Leek Soup - Ferelden

Pumpkin Bread - Tevinter

Red Grape Compote

Rice Pudding - Tevinter

Roasted Fig

Roasted Cave Beetles - Orzammar

Roasted Prawns - a substitute prawns for cave beetles

Roasted Turnip

Roll, pastry

Snail and Watercress Salad - Avvar

Sour Cherries in Cream - Orlais

Spiced Jerky - Dalish

Steamed Turnip

Stir-fried Turnip

Strawberry and Rhubarb Cobbler - Ferelden

Stuffed Cabbage - Ferelden

Stuffed Deep Mushrooms - Orzammar

Stuffed Vine Leaves - Tevinter

Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup - Ferelden

Toasted Almonds

Traviso Energy Balls - Antiva

Tzatziki - Tevinter

Turnip and Mutton Pie - Ferelden

Unidentified Meat - a common tavern food in Tevinter

Yogurt Dip - Nevarra

Drinks

Chasind Sack Mead

Chasind Wildwine

The Emerald Valley

The Golden Nug

The Hissing Drake

Hot Chocolate

Lichen Ale

Pomegranate Juice

Rivaini Tea Blend

West Hill Brandy

White Seleney wine

Ingredients

These are only listed in the lore entries and not the actual recipes themselves as whether or not they are canon is questionable as the recipes recommend store bought items as well as ingredients that have unique Thedosian counterpart names.

Almond

Antivan Pasta

Apple

Apricot

Bacon

Bacon, Nug

Bark

Barley

Beef

Beetroot

Bell Pepper, red

Bitter Greens - this is a class of salad greens known for their bitter flavor.

Black Lichen - Underground

Blood Orange - Nevarra

Butter

Butter, Halla

Cabbage

Cave Beetles

Celery

Cinammon

Cheese

Cherry

Cherry, black

Cherry, sweet

Chicken

Chickpea - Rivain

Chocolate

Cocoa Powder

Corn, yellow

Corn, checkered

Couscous - Rivain

Crab

Cranberry

Currant

Deep Mushroom, various varieties

Dracolisk - The narrator suggests it being a potential meat in a recipe in Tevinter.

Dried Fruit

Eggs

Fig

Flour, semolina - Rivain

Giant - Suggested that Tevinter might serve giant

Giant Spiders - Underground

Goat

Grape, red

Grape Leaves/Vine Leaves

Grease

Guimauves - Orlesian

Gurgut - Avvar

Heavy Cream

Honey

Jasmine

Mackerel

Mango

Mint

Mussel

Mutton

Lamb

Lamprey

Leek

Lemon

Lemon Juice

Lemon Verbena

Lentil

Lichen

Licorice Root

Lurker - Avvar

Oat

Oil

Onion

Oregano

Pastry Dough

Peanut

Peanut Butter

Peppers, Hot

Peppermint

Plum

Pork

Potato

Prawn - said to have the same texture and flavor as cave beetles.

Puff Pastry - Orlais

Pumpkin

Quillback

Raisin

Raspberry

Rhubarb

Rice - Antiva and Rivain

Salt

Semolina Flour - Rivain

Shrimp

Snail - Avvar

Spinach

Strawberry

Sugar

Tomato

Turkey

Turnip

Watercress - Avvar

Wheat

Whipped Cream

White Chocolate

Wildflowers

Wyvern - Avvar, Orlais

Charts and Stats

Because I love a good visual rep of data, I collected some stats of the types of food, how many recipes are from where, and the amount of time a character was mentioned.

Types of Food

I did percentages for the course of food as well as the portion of options that are vegetarian, vegan, dairy-free, meat based, and alcoholic.

Food Types Stats

These charts show the ingredient percentage in the actual recipes and not the lore blurbs themselves. This is out of 72 recipes with the amount they were used in (-) after their percentage.

Left Hand Chart

Alcohol: 14.6% (27)

Dairy-free: 15.7% (29)

Egg-free: 25.4% (47)

Meat based: 16.2% (30)

Nuts: 3.1% (6)

Shellfish: 2.6% (5)

Vegan: 4.2% (8)

Vegetarian: 20.4% (39)

Top Right Chart

Alcohol: 37.5% (27)

Alcohol-free: 62.5% (45)

Bottom Right Chart

Beef: 11.4% (4)

Chicken: 17.1% (6)

Fish: 17.1% (6)

Lamb: 5.7% (2)

Pork: 28.6% (10)

Shellfish: 14.3% (5)

Turkey: 5.7% (2)

Percentage of Recipe Origins

Anderfels: 1.4%

Antiva: 11%

Avvar: 6.8%

Chasind: 2.7%

City Elves: 2.7%

Dalish: 6.8%

Ferelden: 15.1%

Free Marches: 5.5% Kirkwall: 2.7% Starkhaven: 2.7%

Grey Wardens: 1.4%

Nevarra: 2.7%

Orlais: 13.7%

Orzammar: 9.6%

Rivain: 4.1%

Seheron: 1.4%

Tevinter: 9.6%

Character Mentions

I organized the chart by game and the characters in alphabetical order.

DAO Alistair: 2 Dog: 2 Hero of Ferelden (Cousland): 6 Leliana: 1 Loghain: 1 Morrigan: 1 Sten: 1 Zevran Arainai: 2

DA2 Anders: 2 Bethany: 1 Fenris: 3 Hawke: 1 Isabela: 1 Merrill: 2 Sebastian Vael: 1 Varric: 3

DAI Briala: 1 Bull's Chargers: 2 Cassandra: 2 Celene Valmont: 1 Cole: 2 Cullen: 3 Dorian: 2 Friends of Red Jenny: 1 Gaspard: 1 Josephine: 3 Krem: 2 Sera: 1 Solas: 4 The Iron Bull: 4 Vivienne: 2

Food Courses

I thought it would be interesting to see how the recipe groups totaled out in how much of the book they made.

Drinks: 12.5%

Baked Goods: 13.9%

Sweets: 11.1%

Sides: 5.6%

Starters and Refreshments: 12.5%

Travel Food: 13.9%

Soup and Stew: 11.1%

Main Course: 19.4%

Wanna support this blog? You can check out my ko-fi.

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luimagines · 5 months

Note

I dare you to do one with your favorite trope to write (unless you've already done it)

Oh my goodness, this might be longer that usual. XD

And I really had to think about what I wanted to write. I think I'll make this a one-shot. (unless you guys want more anyway) Prepare for this to be as self indulgent as hell. :D

And I'll make it Time while I'm at it.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

This was the third time this week that you found something like this. You didn't know who was doing this.

A basket, filled to the brim with goodies and trinkets alike, sat properly outside of your window sill. It would be charming if you weren't on the third floor. Someone was climbing up to your balcony and leaving the baskets for you to find.

It was creepy- to a degree. There was never anything malicious about it though. The baskets typically held a flower, a warm meal (or groceries) and some little thing for you to put around your apartment.

You see, you moved to the Kingdom of Kokiri with nothing but a backpack and small child's wagon. Your apartment wasn't even on a nicer side of town. But it hard to be worried about robbers when you're home is bare and empty.

Slowly, that's been changing though. The baskets always had a poem attached, but no name. You secret admirer would give little things from time to time. The baskets are getting more frequent too.

What used to be a small monthly thing, turned weekly then bi weekly- and you're beginning to suspect that they're turning into a daily thing.

Part of you worries that whoever this is, is spending too much on you.

But seeing that the last basket had a new set of dining wear with plates and cups and a some nice utensils to match- you're not inclined to have them stop anytime soon when they're improve your very living conditions as it is. Even if you feel a little guilty.

That being said, this basket had a warm meal already prepared, still steaming in the glass tupperware. There was a small bouquet of roses near the top and a small little box that you opened to see a single slice of chocolate cake.

The card was attached on the inside but it lacked the typical poem. It simple read: "Rest well, Love. You've worked hard today. Dinner's on me. I just want to see you smile in the morning."

You smiles and tucked the card back into its place, bringing the basket back into your apartment.

You have to figure out who this secret admirer of yours is. It has to be someone with access to your floor but it can't be a neighbor. Right? You're on the corner so it can't be anyone to your left. But maybe your neighbor to the right? That's a creepy thought. You hardy ever see him and you don't think he showers throughout the week.

It can't be him. Or at least you're going to deny it.

Maybe it's someone from above? That's more likely. There is this cute guy that you know lives on the floor above you, but you don't know which apartment. It wouldn't be hard to drop the basket secretively onto your balcony from above if that was the case.

The thought rotates in your head as you eat the food. It's delicious. Decadent, even.

Gratitude fills your heart and soul. you have to return the favor somehow after everything this person has provided for you. But how?

You head to bed with a smile on your face and a full stomach. You'll have to start small but you can think of something.

The next morning you head to the castle and walk straight to the throne room.

It was a deal that the king had proposed personally to you. You get to work concern free in his kingdom but you have to report to him every other Tuesday. Seeing as you had nowhere else to go, you didn't think it wise to refuse.

You've grown somewhat close, but with his power and status by his side, you couldn't help but slightly intimidated by him even now.

The king- like most Royals of Kingdoms of Hyrule- was a dragon. Sure, he could take the form of a typical man, but he stayed in his half form more often than not. His age and strength add to his credentials. As the current senior amongst dragons, all you've gathered is that he's lived longer than he appears. The older the dragon, the stronger they are.

King Link is a force to be reckoned with.

However, he's kind and patient with you. He's not all that bad.

You nod and grin at the Captain, who's affectionately called Warrior. Another dragon hidden among the people. You don't know his story, but he's a hard working fellow. He also came to the king in a time of need, looking for asylum and has been working under his employ ever since. He is the king's right hand man.

Warrior smiles back and salutes you softly as you enter. You'll never understand why you've more or less been given free reign of the castle, but with his approval, you feel better to head on in.

You meet the king and curtsy clumsily, still feeling rushed. He's asked you call him Time and he stands from the throne. His face is kind, amused even. A chuckle tumbles out of him as he walks toward you, his marble like tail swinging behind him. "I thought we were passed the formalities, my dear."

You clear your throat. "Were we? I don't recall."

He laughs again. "Come. We have much to discuss."

You nod and follow. He leads you to the back room with a gentle touch the small of your back. It's a familiar routine that you've grown comfortable with.

There's a small rounded table with a pale blue laced table cloth. There's a delicate tea set and it's covered to the brim with snacks and treats alike. You think you see a few of your favorites and your eyes light up at the sight.

King Time notices and he smiles, pleased. "Sit."

You nod and take your usual spot. Time sits across from you and serves you the pieces that you eyes earlier. You almost feel bad. You're still full from the night before.

Time notices. "Something wrong, dear?"

"No." You shake your head, afraid of insulting him. "Someone gave me dinner last night and I'm still a bit full from it."

Time seemed to be shocked by the tidbit. "Really?... Was it good?"

"It was delicious!" You can't help but gush. "I would normally cook for myself but they send food from time to time and it was still warm so I couldn't resist."

His smile turns a little tight. "Is that so? I'm glad that you were fed adequately then.... May I ask who?"

You falter, the smile on your face turning more soft and shy. "Um... I think it was my neighbor..."

"...You don't know who it is?"

You blush and look down onto the table, playing with the treats on your plate. "I know that I should be more cautious. But they've only ever left it on my balcony... It's a secret admirer so to speak. They've given me trinkets and flowers and food. It seems as if they've slowly been furnishing my house for me. I don't know... I've been trying to think about who it may be, but I'm coming up short. Regardless, enough about my lack of love life-"

Time abruptly puts his hand under the table but you catch the reason why before he can hide it.

He's bent the fork in half with his hand, seemingly without realizing it. He smiles brightly, as if nothing happened and the thought gets put on the back burner for now. "Right... Well, you can always ask for my assistance, Darling."

You shake your head with a small smile. "Thank you, but I'm here to report my work. Let's get to business then."

Time clenches his jaw slightly but nods in agreement. "Right. I believe last time you mentioned that you were following a trail of some suspicious individuals on the property of the farm lands for relief efforts. Did that bloom into anything substantial?"

You pull out a manila folder with a smirk and hand it to the king. "Did it ever."

The time passes before you know it. Little by little, as you give your report, if drifts away and you're talking about your lives as much as you can before you leave.

Warrior comes in, informing Time of another meeting has to attend. He looks apologetic.

The king winces but you're quick to stand up, mid panic. "I'm sorry. I've overstayed my welcome."

"Impossible." Time blurts, standing abruptly as well. He reach out as if to stop you and moves around the table as if to block your path. His tail curls around your ankle, stopping your in your tracks. It's gentle but firm. Even if his grip is painless, you can already tell that you wouldn't be able to escape on your own.

You freeze and after a beat he lets you go. Time gulps and stands, seemingly more aware of what he was doing. His grip falls away and he takes a step back. "R-right... I won't keep you from your work much longer then."

You can't help but blush. He's always been fine with putting a hand on your shoulder or your back... but the tail is one of the most sensitive parts of a dragon. And he just grabbed you with it. For some reason, you find yourself blushing.

You nod dumbly, as if your schedule is jammed packed like his. Your heart is pounding. You follow Warrior out of the room as he leads you back to the main gate of the castle.

"Sorry." Warrior says quietly. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Nonono-" You're still shaken by the phantom feelings of the scales around you. Even if it was just a brush, there was a power there. You don't know why you're so out of whack suddenly. The act was more intimate than you were able to admit. "If you didn't say anything, I would have kept going. Honestly, I swear he's just humoring most of the time."

"This is the only time we get him to actually take a break." Warrior tells you. "He'd work himself t the bone if it weren't for you. It's not like he can't afford it. He's two years ahead of his work. By all means, keep him there longer."

You flush and look away, walking out of the gate. "Oh please, he'll get sick of me before we'd know it."

Warrior is quick to bite his tongue, biting back the instant retort that no doubt sat on his tongue. He takes a breath and shakes his head.

"...He likes you." Warrior looks pained. Like there's something there that he wants to say but can't. You don't see it. "Would you like me to walk you home? If I recall you live far enough away-"

"Not enough to cause concern, Captain." You smile and pat his shoulder. "But thank you."

"His Majesty wouldn't like it if anything happened to you." Warrior tries to push it a little bit.

You shake you head. "And take more of your time away? You work just as hard, if not harder, than the entirety of the castle staff. I think only the King works harder than you."

He presses his lips into a thin line. His own scales poke from under his skin. Something is riling him up but you don't know what. You've never seen his dragon form or even his half. He seems to hide it more often than not. You would never know he was a dragon if the King hadn't said anything earlier.

Warrior sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "Very well... Just... be safe, yeah? I don't think the goddesses themselves would be able to calm the king should things go wrong."

"Like what?" You snort. "I end up in the hospital? I'll be fine. No worries."

You wink for good measure and head home, happy, fulfilled and ready to take on the rest of the week.

You miss the next three visits.

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