#lethal mushrooms

[lethalcontracts]

huhuhuhuhuu. Fungal Brackens.

just quick little doodles of some fungi. Indigo Milkcap, Bleeding Tooth, and Lions Mane is what i chose!

#lethal company #bracken #fungal forms #uh! suddenly mushroom! #tw: trypophobia

[dracoshroob]

Cant see in this steam

glasses half fogged up, trying to find the damn valve. whats that damn beeping sound

#lethal company #vtuber #furry #mushtuber #mushroom #digital art #digital drawing

[axvwriter]

A Childish Spat

Princess Bobo, fifteen years old, sat upon her usual bench upon her quarterly visit to the kingdom above hers. Princess Penelope, nineteen years old, had just arrived to the castle’s restricted garden. Only a few minutes late, but those few minutes were enough to whittle away at Bobo’s calm facade. Any remaining attempt of holding a cordial face was dropped to pure annoyance as Penelope didn’t even greet her.

“Ugh,” Penelope groaned as she sat down on her favorite bench, “Why do you keep showing up here?”

“…” Bobo gaped, her brow furrowed at such a ridiculous question. “I would have thought you knew. Don’t tell me it’s taken years for you to realize you have no idea why we meet up.”

“Oh shut up.” Penelope rolled her eyes. “You do realize our meetings are pointless, right? My parents are the ones in charge. I hold no power. The only reason you meet with me is because my parents don’t see you as a true ruler. You’re just a child in their eyes.”

“…It… I do find it annoying to be called up here just to only see you. I’m quite aware that your parents don’t see me as an equal.” Bobo huffed. “Yet I still choose to come up here for a reason, Penelope.” Bobo leaned forward slightly, trying to spot revelation cross the blonde’s face. Penelope’s face stayed in its grouchy frown as the older girl fought to keep herself in perfect posture. Bobo let out a sigh.

“Princess Penelope, eventually you’ll become Queen. As ruler of the Mycelind Kingdom, I figure it’s important to forge a friendly bond with you. So while I rarely see your parents, the current rulers in which I’m supposed to have quarterly meetings with, I choose to stay and see you.” Bobo explained before reaching for a cup of tea.

“Oh please, you’re not one to be a kiss-up!” Penelope snapped, surprising the younger girl. Bobo withdrew her hand from the round garden table that separated them. Penelope stood up and slapped her hands onto the table, causing the refreshments sitting upon it to rattle.

“You only sit and tolerate me because my parents tell you too! It’s absolutely ridiculous! You get to pretend to be Queen of your kingdom while my parents won’t let me handle anything!” Penelope threw her hands up into the air before crossing her arms.

“…Pretend?” Bobo balled her hands as she refused to let herself stand up. “I am Princess and sole ruler of my kingdom! I may not agree with how your kingdom works in regards to such things, but just because you aren’t getting your way doesn’t give you the right to lash out at me.”

“Oh? What are you going to do about it, huh?” Penelope taunted and moved around the garden table to get closer. “Make another empty warning of war? Do you know how laughable that is? What is Mycelind going to do if it destroys its only ally and protector? Like you even could. Maybe next time there’s an invasion here, I’ll call you up and have them kidnap you. Or maybe I’ll just open the gate and let all those horrible mages right into your magic-defenseless kingdom.” Penelope taunted as she leaned towards the younger princess.

“You say that as if you have enough defenses with just one royal mage.” Bobo grumbled as she angled her head away from Penelope’s face. “I appreciate your… protection. Still, I could declare war. And as Princess, it’ll be your fault for failing to keep things civil.”

“Well, what if I declare war?!” Penelope reared back, an angry flush starting to color her delicately pale face.

“You don’t have that ability.” Bobo looked at her upon receiving some personal space. “You’d have to bring up the motion with your parents. Then I’m sure they’d want to hear from both of us.”

“I- you- Augh! I hate you! I’ll never like you! So stop wasting both of our time and stay in the ground where you belong!!” Penelope screamed. Bobo felt her restraint thin at that.

“Wasting both of our time?! Well I’ll admit it always feels like a waste of time coming up here! But it’s rather rich to hear you think it’s a waste of your time! All you do is complain about how you aren’t Queen yet and how you have nothing to do! If you actually cared, you’d find a way, find something to do!” Bobo yelled as she stood to her feet.

Penelope grabbed at a cup of tea and threw its contents at Bobo. The younger girl raised her arms in a defensive manner yet blinked at just feeling the warm liquid splash her. Penelope looked smug, like as if she had done something significant.

“Are… you… serious?” Bobo practically hissed as she seethed. “I thought you were going to actually hit me! Actually do something of consequence! Do you think a possible stain means anything?! Do you have any idea what I go through?! What actual meaningful action is?! No wonder you sit around and complain about not ruling, you absolute bimbo!” Bobo snatched the cup out of Penelope’s hand. Yet before she could even raise it, the fragile thing shattered in her fist. Penelope simply scowled, unaware of what Bobo almost did.

“So barbaric. You get angry and the first thought in your mind is to get violent?” Penelope turned to start walking away. Bobo took a step after her, but stopped as she recognized the sickly sticky feeling coming from her hand.

“Princess Penelope, Princess Bobo, I heard yelling. Do you two need more tea?” Bobo vaguely registered the young man’s voice as she slowly opened her fist. Her gaze drawn down as she watched the fine porcelain shard fell from her hand. She hadn’t even really realized that any part of the tea cup had been trapped in her hold.

“Actually, Princess Bobo and me have just wrapped up our meeting. If you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” Penelope’s voice faintly reached Bobo’s ears. The older girl not looking back once as she left the restricted garden. Bobo stared at her own ripped glove, watching the white fabric grow more and more red.

She had slipped up. She had made a mistake. What if her parent made a similar mistake and only realized too late? Could she head back home with her skin torn open? The path… the path… is it safe? Is it clear? When was the last time it was checked for that strain of mycelium?

“Princess Bobo.” The young man’s voice rang clearly before the feeling of his hand on her shoulder forced her out of her spiraling, panicking thoughts. Bobo gasped as she stepped back, clenching her hand closed and cradling it to her chest.

“Mage Maus.” Bobo frowned and took another step back. The twenty-one year old gave a worried frown. He reached for her wrist.

“You’re injured? Let me see.” Maus softly asked yet Bobo practically jumped away from his reach.

“No. Don’t touch me.” Bobo growled, regaining her senses. She turned around and headed to the garden’s gate. “I accidentally broke a cup snd stained a glove is all.” The path is always checked regularly. At least once a week to make sure it’s clean snd structurally sound. It’s silly to fret. It wouldn’t take long to get home, her wound treated, and her glove replaced. This small mistake wont be a risk to her own life.

Maus watched her leave before turning his attention towards the porcelain bits amongst the grass.

———

Princess Bobo stood inside one of her sister kingdom’s castle, facing the King and Queen. Instead of being seated in a nice garden with refreshments, Bobo stood. No seat offered nor available to her as the sun blared through the tall, spacious windows, practically blinding her. The only seats available were two thrones, currently occupied by the previously mentioned royalty. No sign of their only heir, making Bobo wonder if the Princess even knew of this meeting.

Only three days had passed since her and Penelope’s meeting. Bobo probably shouldn’t have been surprised to have received summons to see the King and Queen.

“Princess Bobo,” The King spoke, “We’ve heard that you were injured after having a screaming match with Princess Penelope.” Bobo lowered her head, hoping it looked more apologetic than sheepish as her cheeks warmed.

“I’m sorry. I lost my temper at Penelope.” Bobo could bring up how the girl had started it. She could mention how awful Penelope had been, but she shouldn’t have let anything Penelope said or done affect her so.

“Did Princess Penelope strike you?” The Queen asked. Penelope had never really hid her hatred towards her. It was foolish to let herself nearly strike the girl. It would only prove Penelope right if she had done so. Which might as well had happen since the only reason it didn’t was because the cup broke before she could.

“No. Princess Penelope… she shared that she holds some frustrations about not being able to help. Help you two with ruling your kingdom. I… I misunderstood her and got frustrated… in my frustration I mishandled my cup of tea.” Bobo answered, lifting her gaze to stare into the Queen’s crystal-blue eyes.

“We’ve heard you stormed away.” The King replied. “Losing your temper and dismissing yourself… You still have a long ways to go.”

“…I… know…” Bobo forced the words to come out clearly.

“I want you to go to the garden and make up with Princess Penelope.” The Queen stated. If being ordered like a misbehaving child wasn’t bad enough, Bobo saw Mage Maus step out from behind a pillar.

“Please let me escort you, Princess Bobo.” Maus moved smoothly towards her, offering his arm. Bobo glared at his arm before turning around to lead herself out. The royal mage quietly followed behind, making her more tense as she struggled to make out his footsteps.

Upon arriving in the shaded garden, Bobo saw Penelope toying with the refreshments at the table. Before she could guess if Penelope had possibly brought them over herself or was simply fiddling with them, Maus called out.

“Princess Penelope, I’ve brought Princess Bobo to see you.” He stepped past Bobo, nearly brushing against her if she hadn’t leaned out of reach. Penelope looked over, her baby-blue eyes sparkling upon seeing the young royal mage.

“Mage Maus!” Penelope chirped as she bounced her way over to him. Bobo kept from rolling her eyes. It seemed the Princess would rather ignore her in order to flirt with someone who never treated her negatively. The mage smiled as he held out his arms to grasp her forearms gently. Returning the attention while keeping her at a debatably polite distance.

Bobo quietly moved herself over to her regular bench. She was fine with ignoring Penelope and pass the time distracting herself with tea. This would be enough punishment and repentance for what happened. Though it would be a lot better if Penelope was able to dismiss her so she could return to her paperwork. Bobo sighed, leaning back with a full cup. Preferably she’d nap in order to prepare for the lack of sleep she’d inevitably get tonight as she kept from falling behind in her work.

“While you are as beautiful as the morning sun, I’d say that Princess Bobo is as the evening light.” Mage Maus’s voice caught her attention as he sat down beside Penelope. Much closer than what was considered a polite distance. She would not nap while Mage Maus was around in the royal’s garden.

“Oh must you bring her into this?” Penelope whined and rested her head against his shoulder. Bobo glared as the man dared run his fingers through Penelope’s long, silken hair.

“The King and Queen want you two to get along.” Maus reminded.

“We get along best when we’re nowhere near each other.” Penelope huffed, keeping herself from scowling. Instead pouting as to keep up her soft, perfect, princess image. Maus chuckled softly. He reached over and picked up a biscuit with his gloved hand. Bobo internally cringed, keeping herself from commenting on the hygiene of that. Above ground, they could be laxer about such things

“Ahh” Penelope practically sang out as she held open her mouth. Basically demanding that the mage feed his treat to her. Maus chuckled again as he followed her silent command. Bobo looked away, not wanting to risk seeing any of his dirty glove make contact with her mouth.

“Now Princess Penelope, you two will be working together in the future when you’re both Queens. Would it really be that bad to become friends before then?” Maus’s words caused Bobo to sling her glare at him again. The small smirk he sent her way only frustrated her.

He perfectly understood that their two kingdoms cultures were different enough that Princess and Queen didn’t mean the same for each other! She scowled, realizing this must be his way to tauntingly call her a child, to call her not a real ruler.

“…You make a fair point.” Penelope softly sighed as she withdrew from him. Bobo glanced at her, annoyed that Penelope would rather pretend to listen to him. The two Princesses stared at each other. Bobo scowled some more as a mischievous smile spread across Penelope’s face.

“Bobo, you become Queen when you’re married, right?” Penelope asked with a grin as she leaned forward.

“Yes, but need I remind yo-“ Bobo tried to reply just for Penelope to cut her off.

“You know, my parents may not even take you seriously once you reach adulthood. After all, they still treat me like a child.” Penelope pouted and fluttered her eyelashes at the mage still seated beside her. He responded by rubbing his hand over her back.

“Well you’re not an adult, you’re still a teen.” Bobo stated with slight confusion.

“I’m nineteen!”

“Yeah, nineteen. Not even twenty.” Bobo frowned.

“Twenty? Oh don’t tell me that in your backwards kingdom that you don’t hit adulthood upon turning eighteen.” Penelope whined as she threw her head back over the bench she’s seated upon.

“Wha… what? Why would you be an adult at eighteen? Teen is part of the number!” Bobo exasperatedly responded. She glanced at Maus, noticing his slightly wide eyes. Apparently he wasn’t aware of this difference either. Bobo sighed and slumped in her seat.

“Once you hit twenty is when you’re considered legally an adult in Mycelind.” Bobo monotonely stated. Penelope nearly blew a raspberry, catching herself as she recalled the mage’s presence.

“Well that just means two more years of my parents getting to justifily see you as a little child.” Penelope stated as she side-eyed Bobo.

“What is it that you’re trying to say?” Bobo huffed.

“As long as you remain single and with the title of Princess… there’s no need to take you all that seriously. Thus you need to get married as soon as possible to get the treatment my parents should be giving you.” Penelope slyly grinned. Bobo furrowed her brow. Getting married as soon as possible was ready part of her plans. As the only one with the blood right left to rule, it would be important to get some heirs as soon as she turned twenty. Though perhaps she should just trust that the backup measures in place would work.

Yet if she had kids, they’d be able to help shoulder the responsibility. Along with any and all worthy spouses she got. That’s…. Isn’t that a selfish way to think of it? But what if the backup measure never gets properly carried out? The Grand Mycorl was always too much of a softie… he could very well prevent a new ruler from being chosen if something happened to her. So having spouses and kids as soon as possible would be in the best interests of Mycelind, right? Yet why did it feel… selfish? Why did it have to feel off?

“Alright..?” Bobo prompted Penelope to continue.

“So how about you start attending some of my kingdom’s balls? Not only is this a generous offer from me, but it’ll help you start courting in preparation of choosing a king.” Penelope giggled.

“. . . You know I hate waltzing.” Bobo nearly whined. Penelope was making this all up as an excuse to torture her instead of actually trying to befriend her!

Mage Maus briefly stood up to move over onto Bobo’s bench. He scooted close to Bobo, but kept some distance at her glaring.

“I think Princess Penelope’s idea is great. You’ve attended before pretending to be her cousin. You’d be able to practice the ways of courting without the worry of possibly embarrassing yourself.” Maus smiled. Bobo raised a foot, pushing it against his thigh to force him further away.

“You’re purposely forgetting that things tend to be a bit different in my kingdom. There isn’t really nobles so learning to flirt or court however your nobles do won’t be of help to me.” Bobo scowled at the royal mage.

“Oh, I suppose so. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to gather the courage to flirt with others. If you really wouldn’t like to attend any balls, you could practice your ways on me.” Maus gave that slight teasing smirk again. Bobo jumped up to her feet, fed up with his presence.

“I much rather kiss Penelope than even pretend to flirt with you. I’m not going to go to any stupid balls.” Bobo walked away towards the gate. Enough time had passed that she could get away with peacefully dismissing herself. Penelope gave a disgusted face upon hearing Bobo’s words, which caused Maus to laugh. Penelope sulked at his laughter, telling him it wasn’t funny and that he should feel deeply insulted.

———

“Princess…” Bobo turned towards the door, frowning at seeing her caretaker, Beau’s, worried face. He walked over to where she sat at a desk, working away on a pile of paperwork. She paused what she was doing and turned to properly face him.

“I was summoned to the sister kingdom to receive a message for you.” Beau pulled an envelope out of one of his pockets. “I read it and I’m sure there’s been some sort of misunderstanding.”

“What does it say?” Bobo frowned, wondering if whatever it was, she could end up tossing away. She didn’t want to have to go back up to the surface anytime soon.

“It seems that the Queen believes you accepted the Princess’s invitation to attend her birthday ball. The message seems to mostly inform you that you are to show up four hours before the ball so servants there may get you ready… in a dress the Princess has commissioned for you. It doesn’t say when the ball is.” Beau answered.

“…Penelope shared that she wanted me to attend some balls, but she didn’t mention anything about her birthday. I can’t really respond and say that I won’t go… they wouldn’t accept that even if I were to say Penelope didn’t actually invite me. I’d assume the ball would be the day of her birthday… Could you please go ask for confirmation of the date and details? Also please give them my measurements. I wouldn’t put it past Penelope to guess or simply use the measurements they got when I was thirteen.”

#axv writing #long post #mushroom kingdoms #bobo mycelind #still havent thought of a name for the sister kingdom nor surname for penelope #bobo age 15 #penelope #mage maus #bobos dealing with life and death situations while penelopes complaining that being princess is boring #bobo personally slaying giant man eating beasts while keeping the health code up to avoid lethal fungi outbreaks #penelope just enjoying getting attention from maus #i hopefully wont forget later to link this in my oc masterlist or similar post #mushroom kingdoms story snippet

[therighthandofvengeance]

mushrooms 🤝 Delenn of Mir

death is a social construct

“you cannot kill me in a way that matters” & “this body is only a shell. you cannot touch me. I am not afraid.”

#babylon 5 #b5 #delenn of mir #maybe kinda sorta an incorrect quote? #you cannot kill me in a way that matters #Delenn is definitely like mushrooms #they can be wonderful sources of sustinence #are they lethal? only one way to find out #and a third thing where you never know what you’re gonna see

[1spooky-dad]

I love making hyper complex ocs that fit into whatever story they're for, idk how people can stand to just slap an oc into a story with no explanation. Where did they come from? Who is their entire extended family? What environmental changes shaped them into who they are today? How close to canon can you get them while still being op as shit but also still likeable and believable?

#anyways i made a soul eater oc cuase im rewatching it #yes theyre a love interest for stein who do you take me for? #theyre from tsubakis clan like her much older second step cousin or something #so they can transform into lots of different things #but their soul is super tiny and not easy for a meister to like. know whats going on in there #instead of a meister connecting to them they are able to just worm their way into a meisters soul and transform into whichever weapon #would be easiest for them to weild. which they knlw from merging with their soul ofc #they use this as a way to teach young meisters how to get a grip on handleing a weapon #some meisters get it right away but others need practice with a weapon thats gentle on them and doesnt hurt them #the catch tho is that stiens used to matcjing his soul to the weapon and theyre used to matching their soul to the meister #so they clash with him hard #which doesnt matter to them much cause they dont interact with him much considering theyre basically just a remeidial teacher #stiens students are usually more advanced so theyre in completely different parts lf the school #but stein is stein and hes a nosey bastard and wants to know whats up with them and why he cant get a good read on them #oh and their actual weapon form when not conforming to a meisters prefered weapon is a spray bottle of neurotoxin #and they look like a mushroom #they can change the components of the toxin to have varying symptoms and lethalities #stein: so you change weapons a lot but which one is your actual main? OC: oh you know. a spray gun filled with VX neurotoxin. Stein: what. #yeah idk what their name is yet but its probably gonna be a bastardized version of some sort of poison name

[miscxllany]

TAGS: levi, ripley, & janine.

THERE’S BEAUTY & THERE’S DANGER HERE. / ripley reid.

A PAIR OF COLD HANDS TO HOLD. / ripley: about.

MY TOUCH IS POWER，MY TOUCH IS LETHAL. / ripley: abilities.

GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUNDING FOR SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH. / ripley: musings.

INTERACTIONS. / ripley: i.

I’VE NEVER BEEN ONE TO HALF ASS SHENANIGANS. / levi reid.

INTERACTIONS. / levi: i.

THINGS JUST GOT SUPER WEIRD，IT'S MY TIME TO SHINE! / levi: about.

I GET BUTTERFLIES WHEN I SEE GARLIC BREAD. / levi: musings.

JUST LEARNED HOW TO MAKE FIRE FROM MY BODY，AM I A GOD? / levi: abilities.

WHO COULD FORGET THE GIRL WITH ONE EYE? / janine lindo.

INTERACTIONS. / janine: i.

I'M NOT A MUSHROOM! / janine: about.

RED LEADER STANDING BY! / janine: musings.

#tag dump #THERE’S BEAUTY & THERE’S DANGER HERE. / ripley reid. #A PAIR OF COLD HANDS TO HOLD. / ripley: about. #MY TOUCH IS POWER，MY TOUCH IS LETHAL. / ripley: abilities. #GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUNDING FOR SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH. / ripley: musings. #INTERACTIONS. / ripley: i. #I’VE NEVER BEEN ONE TO HALF ASS SHENANIGANS. / levi reid. #INTERACTIONS. / levi: i. #THINGS JUST GOT SUPER WEIRD，IT'S MY TIME TO SHINE! / levi: about. #I GET BUTTERFLIES WHEN I SEE GARLIC BREAD. / levi: musings. #JUST LEARNED HOW TO MAKE FIRE FROM MY BODY，AM I A GOD? / levi: abilities. #WHO COULD FORGET THE GIRL WITH ONE EYE? / janine lindo. #INTERACTIONS. / janine: i. #I'M NOT A MUSHROOM! / janine: about. #RED LEADER STANDING BY! / janine: musings.

[aesthetically0b5essed]

contemplating ironic last meals based on method of execution.

#eel for the chair #spaghetti for the noose #smoked salmon for the chamber #stuffed mushrooms for lethal injection #veal for the firing squad

[homunculus-argument]

A simple, seemingly straightforward hunting game with a pretty, fairly realistic art style and a really good atmosphere and ambience. While you spend most of the time in the game by yourself in the woods, there's fun side characters you can chat with whenever you need to go to the shops to get new ammo or gear, like a friendly fellow hunter, the local shopkeeper, and kooky, cryptic local hick who ambiguously warns you about Things In Them Woods That Are Best Left Be.

So you play the game and hunt. There's odd glitches in the game - sometimes you can slide through a solid object in order to get to a spot that the game shouldn't let you enter, sometimes a thing that should cause you damage won't happen if you keep spamming the same action on top of it. The first ones are pretty subtle, you could easily miss them, or not bother trying to exploit them.

But if you do start exploiting these systems, and to game the game, the more frequent they become. There's a area in the game where you can only get into by sliding through stone, and there you find an ammo pack that regenerates itself whenever it is spent. There's a glitch that enables you to survive eating a mushroom that should kill you, and you find that the more you consume them, the less often your character needs to rest, until you completely lose the need for sleep.

You encounter a deer that keeps glitching, and by this time you've learned that it's likely something either neutral or profitable, so you aim for it. It's not a clean kill - the aim doesn't work on it like on the regular deer - but you manage to down it anyhow. To your surprise, it has five pelts - all in excellent condition, despite of the way you barely got the animal - and ten times as much meat as a regular deer. You start looking for and hunting glitch deer practically exclusively, it would be stupid not to.

Despite of having regenerative ammo, almost infinite meat and no need for rest or lodgings, inevitably you do run out of something you can't get from the woods, and you have to go to the town to the shops. Once you're there, you find that your dialogue option button is missing - you've lost your ability to speak. The locals seem disturbed but unsurprised by this, and the cryptic hick looks at you with disappointment and says something along the lines of "oh you poor bastard, don't tell me I didn't warn you."

Going back to the woods, you're more focused on hunting and exploiting new glitches than for game animals, and you find that besides looking for lucrative glitching deer and foraged goods, you have to look out for the glitchy predators - not only bears, cougars, wolves, but even the bite of a janky, distorted fox can be lethal. And besides the beasts, you have to look out for the other hunters who never made it out of the woods.

This is now a survival horror game.

[slytherheign]

LETHAL LOCKET | harry potter

PAIRINGS: harry potter x reader, hermione granger x reader (platonic), ron weasley x reader (platonic)

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

SUMMARY: each time one of you wears the locket and how you comfort each other when things get overwhelming.

WARNINGS: depression, doubts, anger, and hopelessness. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠��︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is a gender neutral one and i didn’t specify which hogwarts house the reader is in. requested by an anon here. also, ron leaving hasn’t happened here yet. i barely got time to proofread this so please let me know if you see any mistakes!

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS LETHAL LOCKET (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

Nothing has been the same ever since you managed to get Salazar Slytherin’s locket from Dolores Umbridge. And now you were hiding in a tent in some forest Hermione led you all into.

You all knew that the locket contained a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul, that was why you and Hermione deduced that whoever wore it gets irritated, angry, and extremely depressed. You came up with a plan to take turns wearing it and it was your turn.

You slowly put the locket on your neck, already feeling anger clawing its way into your heart. It was suffocating, corrosive, eating away at every ounce of happiness you tried to hold onto. You did your best to shake it all off at the moment.

“Are you okay?” asked Harry, holding your hand. You squeezed his hand to tell him you were fine. You followed him towards the table, sitting on the chair beside him. 

The tent glowed from within under a starlit sky as Hermione poured tea from a kettle into the cups. “How’re the mushrooms? Seem to be the only edible things growing round here,” she asked.

Harry could only grimace as he chewed. “They’re great,” he lied. 

“Make sure to leave some for Ron,” Hermione said.

You looked at Ron who was sleeping as Harry asked Hermione how bad he was at the moment. “He’ll be alright in a few days. Hopefully. If we could take him to Hogwarts, to Madam Pomfrey–” she cut herself when Harry glanced at her, giving her a look that confirmed what she already knew—it was not possible to take Ron to Madam Pomfrey. You would just have to settle with what you have right now.

You felt it again, that familiar weight pressing down on your chest. The world felt like an empty void, and the possibility of winning the war seemed so distant… so out of reach. You took a deep breath, trying to push the darkness away. Yet, depression started to creep its way in, causing your shoulders to slump.

“Take it off,” Harry instructed you, instantly feeling the change in your demeanor. 

“But I haven’t been wearing it for that long. I can manage a little longer,” you reasoned.

“No, Y/N. Take it off. I’ll wear it instead,” he told you and you didn’t bother to fight with him anymore. You gave him the locket, and he placed it on his neck.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, kissing his cheek. He smiled in response, yet again squeezing your hand that still held his.

“It’s comforting to know how much you care for each other. Especially during these times.” Hermione grinned at the two of you.

Hermione was agitated, you could tell it by the way she handled the fish she was about to cook. And you knew it was mostly because of the locket she was wearing. 

You immediately grabbed her hands tightly, stopping them from further stabbing the fish when she was supposed to remove the scales. “You know the fish is already dead, right?” you asked. She looked at the fish, realizing what she was doing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was doing that,” she replied, shaking her head. You could see the disappointment that etched her face.

“It’s okay,” you smiled. “I can cook for tonight.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Of course. You’ve already done so much today. You deserve some rest. I’ll just wake you up when it’s time to eat,” you replied, taking the knife and the fish away from her.

She teared up a bit, smiling widely. “Thank you so much, I really appreciate this. If you need any hel–”

“Hermione,” you stopped her. “Stop. Please, just rest. I know how to cook a fish. I’ll be fine.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll help her cook,” Harry offered, coming up from behind you. “I’ll make sure the fish stays edible.”

You glared at him and he just laughed. You did not appreciate the fact that he couldn’t trust you with cooking, but you did appreciate that he was going to help.

“Thank you guys so much,” Hermione smiled, hugging the two of you before going to bed.

You saw Ron covering her with a blanket and you looked at Harry to see if he saw it too. He did, and now you were giggling with each other at how your two friends couldn’t just admit their feelings for each other.

Ron was staring at the fire. There was so much anger and doubt beneath his eyes and you understood where they were coming from. You walked towards him, sitting down beside him.  He nodded, acknowledging your presence before looking at the fire again. You could tell from the way he breathed deeply that he was attempting to steady his thoughts. However, a pang of anger emerged, causing him to clench his fists.

He was still injured and you have noticed that he seemed more quiet and reserved lately. You wanted to ask him a question, to ask him how was he but you were scared you’d make him more annoyed than he already was. The locket on his neck wasn’t helping.

“I’m guessing you’re here to ask how I feel?” he voiced.

“Yes…” you replied, still skeptical of whether you should leave him alone or stay with him. 

You chose to stay with him.

“Well, how do you think I’m feeling?” he snapped. “What do I look like? Do I look like I’m fine?”

Harry and Hermione stopped their conversation as soon as they heard Ron. Harry stood up from his position immediately, ready to intervene. 

“Ron, I’m just concerned–” you told him.

“I feel horrible,” he interrupted you. “I feel like I’m a barrier stopping all of us from making progress.”

Harry’s stance changed, he was ready to fight Ron earlier when he heard him snap at you. But now, he felt heartbroken for his friend. He sat down beside you and Hermione followed him. Now, the four of you sat in a circle.

“What makes you feel like that?” Hermione asked him. “That’s not true.”

“Really? Do you think I don’t hear you all constantly talk about how long it takes until I get fully healed?”

“Ron, it’s just–we don’t have all the time in the world and we want to get you healed as soon as possible,” you reasoned.

“Exactly,” he said. “I’m halting all of us. You all wanna leave but you feel like you’re forced to stay because of me.”

“You are taking all of this wrong,” Hermione spoke up.

“It’s the locket,” Harry interrupted, trying to remove the locket from Ron’s neck but Ron swat away his hand. “Take it off,” Harry warned him. He was getting irritated as well.

“Can you both stop?” you vocalized. “Ron, I don’t know what it is that you want us to say but at least believe me when I say that we don’t feel forced staying with you here. Yes, we could’ve traveled more these past few days but we still made progress by staying here. We had more opportunities to talk and brainstorm together. And at the same time, we were able to get some rest from constant traveling. If we wanted to leave you, we could’ve done that way earlier. We could’ve left you injured, but we didn’t. We didn’t leave you, we stayed with you because we care for you. Now, please take that locket off before you assume things again.”

That seemed to calm him down. Harry tried to take the locket off from him again, but this time, Ron let him. Ron looked down, letting your words sink into his head. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. Hermione moved so she could sit beside him, rubbing circles on his back to comfort him.

“It’s fine. We all overthink things when we’re stressed,” you said, smiling at him.

“Thank you,” he spoke, looking at each one of you. “I’m glad I have you all.”

You were all gathered around the table when you noticed that Harry’s hands started fidgeting. He hid them behind his back but it was too late because you already saw them. When Hermione asked him a question about where all of you should go next, he only shrugged. At that moment, Ron and Hermione knew something was wrong. Harry suddenly walked out and you immediately followed him. Hermione wanted to go after him as well but Ron stopped her before she could even move a step.

“Let Y/N talk to him,” Ron said and Hermione agreed it would be the best.

You saw Harry sitting alone, visibly overwhelmed. His hands were grasping tightly onto each other, trying to fight off the anger and depression creeping in. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain control. The locket he was wearing doubled up the anger and depression he was already feeling.

"Come on, pull it together," he whispered to himself. He didn't notice you sitting beside him. It saddened you to see him like this. If you told your young self that the giggly kid you met at the Hogwarts Express back in your first year would end up like this years later, you wouldn’t believe yourself. But now here you were, beside him, watching him say positive things to himself when you knew there were little to no positive things left.

Harry hugged his knees. His eyes were still closed, and he put his head down as if he were trying to cover himself from the world. You teared up just from that sight alone.

That little kid who gave you candy on the train years ago grew up with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you were a witness. The war was far from over and each day that passed without finding a horcrux troubled every one of you.

You didn’t know what to say so you just did what you could do at that moment. You hugged him, so tight to make him feel that if he wanted to cover himself from the world, you would provide a second layer of protection.

His body stopped shaking and he looked up at you. That was when you saw he was crying. You wiped his tears gently with your hands, telling him that you were there for him and that you were always going to be there for him.

“What if everything fails and he wins?” he asked, hugging your body with every bit of his strength. He was holding onto you like his life depended on it. You hugged him back, kissing his forehead before putting your chin above his head. You saw Ron and Hermione standing at the entrance of the tent, their eyes were tearing up as well. You didn’t know how long they had been watching you and Harry but you motioned for them to go outside.

They joined the hug, and right after, you felt safe from every harm that would come your way. Moments where you felt safe only happen rarely, so you cherished this moment.

“He won’t win,” you stated.

“How do you know so?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know so. I just believe so,” you answered. 

You hugged them even tighter, whispering that it was going to be alright when in reality you weren’t sure if everything would be alright.

Maybe what you were doing was instilling them with false hope, but at least it was still hope.

And right now, you all needed hope so badly.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

message me or comment down below if you want to be added to my taglist! specify if you want to be added to my main (slytherheign) taglist where i’ll tag you in everything i publish in the future or just the wizarding world/hp taglist.

#harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter imagine #harry james potter imagine #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry james potter x reader #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #hermione granger x you #ron weasley x you #harry potter angst #hermione granger angst #ron weasley angst #harry james potter x y/n #harry james potter angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #hp #hp imagine #slytherin #hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #lethal locket: the fic #rheignwrites: angst avenue

[silverskye13]

Mind control tanguish?? (i was gunna offer time loop for the hell-raisers as another one, but ut canon is Basically a time loop aint it SO!! Make tanguish do something wild)

Helsknight hummed tunelessly under his breath as he cooked dinner, piling some chicken and mushrooms into a pan to fry. He didn't know when Tanguish would be home [every trip to Hermitcraft was a gamble, when it came to time] but he figured whenever the little pest came home, he would be hungry. Besides that, Helsknight was hungry, so he might as well do something about it. Worst case scenario, he would just reheat a plate for Tanguish on the furnace when he got here. Or threw away wasted food. The point was he was hungry, so it wasn't wasted time at least. He pulled some flour out from a cabinet, frowning down at it and wondering what his chances of making a decent gravy were.

[Gravy was the bane of cooking. It either turned out like wallpaper paste, or it turned out like soup. Rarely, when every god and saint turned their greatest blessings on Helsknight for a moment, and every star in every heaven aligned, and every angel and allay and fairy-dust creature held its breath and crossed it's fingers, he would make a passable gravy.]

Helsknight sighed, tossed a few spoonfuls of flour into a pan, and resigned to try his luck. He didn't feel very lucky today, but then again, any day he made gravy, he didn't feel lucky, even if it did taste good in the end.

"I should learn how to bake," he grumbled to himself, eyeing the little bag of flour dispassionately. Tanguish would certainly appreciate it, and it would be cheaper to make a batch of muffins from scratch, instead of buying them from a cart four times a week. Helsknight stirred his fledgling gravy absentmindedly, waiting for the flour to brown, and considering his chances of finding a half-decent cookbook the next time he went to the market. Behind him he heard a clatter of claws, the unmistakable noise of Tanguish stepping into hels. A soft breath of chill dampened the room like a breeze. Helsknight threw a glance over his shoulder.

"Hey, what's your opinion on homemade--?"

Instinct made Helsknight slam to the side as Tanguish propelled himself over the kitchen island, Helsknight's rondel dagger in his hand. The point dug itself into the wall over the stove at about chest-height, a very intentional, very lethal lunge. It missed him by a decent margin; Helsknight was quick, even when he was caught off-guard. That one look over his shoulder, and years of Colosseum training and instincts, had saved his life.

Anger, hot and baffled and electric, raced through Helsknight's chest. He backpedaled towards their little dining table as Tanguish yanked the dagger out of the wall. He needed distance, he needed room to move. [He needed a house that wasn't so saints-damned small.]

"Tanguish, what in hels--?!" Helsknight managed before Tanguish was lurching for him again, a sharp, quick, dagger-pointed shadow dappled in flickering stars. Helsknight snapped a hand out, trying to bat him aside, only for Tanguish to duck nimbly beneath his outstretched arm. The dagger stabbed in towards him again, and Helsknight barely twisted away in time.

"Tanguish! Stop!" Helsknight shouted, confusion and adrenaline crashing together in his chest, muddling up his instincts. His training, his impulse, his experience in the Colosseum, demanded he fight back. He was unarmed [why would he stay armed and armored in the safety of his own home, when he planned to stay in the rest of the day?] but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. He knew a few ways of disarming someone with his bare hands, and he knew how to punch, and kick, and break bones. But his louder, conscious mind screamed at him this is Tanguish! He can't break Tanguish.

Tanguish didn't give him long to be horrified by the thought. He was lunging again, arrow-quick, and this time when Helsknight jolted backwards the blade nicked his out-flung arm. He didn't know if he was proud, or if he regretted how sharp the blade was -- his training had come in handy.

[It was marvelous really, how deadly his little pest could be when he put his mind to it. Helsknight had always thought Tanguish learned more than he let on. He was simply too scared of causing harm to use it. But he wasn't scared of causing harm now. No, he seemed hels-bent on shredding Helsknight where he stood, and he didn't know why.]

"Could you at least tell me what the hels I did to bring this on?" Helsknight demanded, a grin writhing across his teeth. It was something he knew intimidated people, intimidated Tanguish. There was something about baring teeth while fighting that seemed dangerous. If Tanguish cared, it didn't show, and he didn't respond. He just crouched low and gazed back at him, eyes half-shut in something like concentration. It gave him the look of a sleepwalker, and Helsknight didn't like it. He was used to the wide, curious, cat-like gaze, glittering in dandelion yellow.

"Tanguish?" Helsknight breathed, taking advantage of the pause. "Look, I don't want to hurt you--"

Tanguish lunged again when he was mid-sentence, something that might have killed him, if he hadn't seen Martyn do it a thousand times. Even with that knowledge, he almost reacted too late, side-stepping and slamming a heavy palm into Tanguish's shoulder, tossing him off-balance. Helsknight let out a short breath through his nose when Tanguish regained his feet, undaunted.

"I'm not running away," Helsknight said witheringly, dashing for the door. He could feel Tanguish following like a wasp over his shoulder, more the impression of danger than a true knowledge of what he was doing. Helsknight ducked out the door and managed to yank it shut behind him before Tanguish could follow, and was treated to a heavy slam as Tanguish tried to follow. Helsknight held it shut for a second, trying to figure out -- trying to figure out anything.

[Would Tanguish try to break down the door? Surely he couldn't. Even as... weirdly determined as he was to harm Helsknight, that wasn't something he was strong enough to do, especially with Helsknight bracing the other side. But the house had windows. Would Tanguish care about glass? It would cut him to ribbons. He could seriously hurt himself if he -- why was he worried about Tanguish jumping through a window? If the little idiot wanted to deal with a face full of glass--]

Helsknight released the doorknob and stepped aside. He needed to get that knife away, pin him still, preferably without hurting him too badly. His guts gave an uncomfortable squirm.

[How bad is too bad? And why? Why was this happening? It wasn't just strange, it just wasn't Tanguish. He didn't have a dangerous bone in his body.]

The doorknob clicked. Helsknight pressed himself against the wall, hiding behind the door as it swung open. He just needed a few seconds. He was stronger -- that's all he needed. Tanguish stepped onto the street, and before he had the chance to look around, Helsknight lunged forward and wrapped his arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He lifted Tanguish off his feet, trying to keep the thrashing feet from kicking anything.

"Tanguish, I need you to--"

Tanguish's head snapped back suddenly, slamming into Helsknight's mouth and nose. He swore, and his grip loosened, and Tanguish's sharp elbow dug itself into his side hard enough wince away some of his breath. A clawed foot came down on his ankle, and then Tanguish was twisting, and Helsknight, whose only objective narrowed into [don't get stabbed you fucking idiot] drove a punch into Tanguish's sternum. Tanguish's breath left him in a whoosh, and he curled in on himself a little, some sense of self-preservation kicking in. But he didn't cry out in pain, and he didn't drop the knife.

A lancing, twisting feeling darted through Helsknight's guts. It was a feeling so unfamiliar it was nearly foreign, hard to place, and hesitant to name. Dread. Dread as Tanguish turned that sleepwalker's gaze on him again, re-positioned his dagger to continue fighting. His tail gave a contemplative lash, a cat figuring its best approach on a bird, and it had been a long, long time since Helsknight felt like prey. Dread made his mouth dry, closed his throat, blanked his already reeling thoughts.

[What should he do? What could he do?]

Helsknight took a hesitant step back. Tanguish's eyes narrowed, and glittered blue.

[Blue? Blue. A little ring of blue, like a clear, winter's morning, ringed his yellow iris. That hadn't always been there. He knew the color of Tanguish's eyes.]

"Tanguish, talk to me," Helsknight said, taking another hesitant step back. "What happened? Whatever it is, we can fix this. I promise."

Tanguish let out a slow breath, and the blue ring around his iris seemed to flicker, then flashed brighter. Helsknight swore again as Tanguish pounced. He caught Tanguish's wrist, and might have even considered breaking it, had Tanguish not twisted out of his grip in the second of hesitation he gave in to. Helsknight's perception narrowed to the point of the knife as he dodged it, sidestepped it, and then spun on his heel and ran.

Helsknight needed time to think, needed time to figure out what was, whatever was happening. And he was faster than Tanguish. Even if he couldn't fathom harming him, he would always be faster. And armor-less as he was, he felt unnaturally fleet, near to flying. He was down three blocks, into an alley, over a wall and two more blocks over before he stopped, panting, to check for pursuit.

"I'm not running away," he breathed again, to himself, to his Saint, to Tanguish. He wasn't. He just needed time. He just needed to pull himself together, to figure shit out, to stop shaking. To stop shaking? Helsknight looked down at his hands, at the tremor starting. He swallowed hard.

[Okay, he was a little freaked out. He was allowed to be a little freaked out. His best friend was trying to kill him, and he didn't know why, and apparently the veil between "Nice Normal Tanguish" and "Silent Death-Machine Tanguish" was unnervingly thin. And Helsknight wasn't used to someone trying to kill him assassination-style, through dogged pursuit and bloodless silence. He was used to arena fights, and occasional back-alley brawls, where things were loud and obvious and made fucking sense.]

"I'm going to kill him," Helsknight hissed, stealing down the alley as fast as he dared. He didn't know who he was going to kill. Whoever had done this, maybe. Certainly not Tanguish. He hadn't really tried, physically he thought he could, if he'd just commit. But he had no weapon, and his options for killing his best friend [one of a slim handful of people he would gladly die for] were all slow and grim and painful, and not something he would inflict on anyone willingly.

[He would just have to evade, and try to knock some sense into him? But head wounds were difficult. The margin between unconsciousness and death was illusive, and he was a knight for helssakes he didn't bludgeon people. He was so ill-equipped for something like this, it was staggering. But why would he be equipped for his best friend randomly trying to kill him?]

There was a sound. There must have been. The whisper of breathing. The slide of claws. The crackle of gathering frost. Something set Helsknight's hair prickling, the gooseflesh on his arms raised.

[The rooftops.]

Helsknight didn't have time to look up. Suddenly a weight fell on his shoulders, and he was slamming to the ground. Tanguish's hand dug claws into the back of his neck, his knees dug into his shoulders. Helsknight twisted his whole body as hard as he could, wrenching his elbow back to slam into Tanguish's side. He flipped over, throwing Tanguish off him for just a moment. He got an arm underneath himself, tried to scrabble backwards, boots digging into tiles. Tanguish lunged on top of him again, and Helsknight threw a hand between them. A noise escaped his throat as the knife slashed through the webbing between his thumb and his forefinger, but he managed to wrap his fist around the hilt.

Tanguish was on top of him, bearing his full weight down on the dagger, trying to drive it into his throat. Helsknight clenched his bleeding hand around it, while is other arm scrabbled at the cobblestones, and through the haze of half-panic finally found its way around one of Tanguish's wrists. They were too close. He couldn't make full use of his longer arms, his strength, his leverage, and while his feet scrabbled, Tanguish's long tail twisted out for balance, and he held firm.

There was a buzzing starting in the back of Helsknight's mind, a panic he wasn't used to. His hands shook. His hand was bleeding, and it had to be his hand, didn't it?

[Note to self, Tanguish had laughed once, Helsknight is weak to hand wounds.]

He couldn't pass out. Little sparks and stars crowded his peripheral vision, his awareness narrowed itself to the space between his hands, and the slickness of the dagger, and the tear in the webbing between his fingers, and how stupid that was. A Colosseum gladiator, a knight of Blood and Steel, laid low by a flesh wound.

"Tanguish, you don't want to do this," Helsknight grunted, his voice buried beneath the buzzing of panic and his heartbeat in his ears. "You don't want to hurt me."

Tanguish threw his shoulder forward, and the twist sent tearing pain through his hand, and his grip slipped dangerously. Every muscle in his body tightened in dread and desperation, and he screwed his eyes shut as he clenched his bloody fist tighter. An undignified wince of a noise squeezed its way out of his throat, but it was better than screaming.

"Okay! Maybe you want to hurt me. Fine." Helsknight grimaced. He could feel the blood from his hand dripping onto his neck. A dangerous foreshadowing of just where the blade was aimed. "Tell me why. Tell me anything."

He managed to crack an eye open, to blink away the blooming stars. He gripped the knife and a spinning world in his bloody hands, and clung to consciousness and life with equal fervor. And Tanguish watched him, impassive and cold, that little blue ring a persistent chain around his iris. It reminded Helsknight of something, something that made his stomach twist. It took a moment to place a coherent thought to the feelings, a long moment where he breathed and shook and bled, and Tanguish watched.

[Wels. The open sky blue of Wels's eyes. Ice dagger blue. He clawed at his memory for any way that made sense, and in his flailing finally remembered what Tanguish had said about those golden, inescapable commands. How far could they compel? Surely not this far. Surely--]

Helsknight swallowed hard.

[Right. He just needed to break the command. That was all. That was all.]

Helsknight reached into himself for any lie of calm, any ghost of reassurance. He tried to steady his voice. Tried to force command, and calm, and certainty into his words. Stilted and shaky, and hoarsely whispered, he half commanded, half pleaded.

"Tanguish, let go of the knife."

Above him, Tanguish blinked. The pressure on the knife didn't relent, nor did the blue ring around his iris.

"Please let go of the knife."

Tanguish's fist balled tighter, and as it did the knife twisted just barely. He felt the burning in his hand, and Helsknight lost his words behind pain that should have been insignificant, and stars and noise in his head.

"You're scaring me," Helsknight whimpered, and then managed more firmly. "You don't scare people. This isn't you. You don't want to do this to me."

He searched Tanguish's eyes again. Was that a flicker in the blue? He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell.

"Helssakes," he swore. His hand grasping Tanguish's wrist reached up to grab the back of Tanguish's head, fingers tangling in his hair. He wished he could force Tanguish to focus, to center that sleepwalker's stare on something other than his general direction. "If you're going to kill me, look at me."

Tanguish blinked again. There was a shimmer in his eyes, and Helsknight winced as a tear dropped onto his face. A grim smile worked its way onto his teeth. No, that blue ring hadn't flickered. Tanguish had simply started crying.

"You're not going to kill me." Helsknight whispered. He closed his eyes, and his voice was a prayer, and it was a command. "You're not going to kill me."

He couldn't tell how much of the shaking in his arm was from him, or from Tanguish. He couldn't tell if the pain in his hand was from pressure, or from the wound. But he knew this was hurting them both, and he needed it over with, one way or another.

"You're not going to kill me."

Helsknight had been killed by wounds to his neck before. The Colosseum was a terrible place to die sometimes. He told himself he could bear it. Told himself if the pain came, he would try to hide the terribleness of it. He wouldn't gasp, or scream, or any of the other horrible, dramatic thrashings a person could do when they bled. He would make himself small and silent. He would respawn, if he could, and he would find his way back here, and he would find a way to fix this. Helsknight released Tanguish, and, eyes closed, braced himself for whatever happened next.

He couldn't stop himself from flinching when a few more teardrops fell on his face. But the blade didn't come. Helsknight dared to crack an eye open.

"Tanguish?"

Tanguish moved, and Helsknight stiffened, only to relax again when the blade clattered to the ground beside them. Helsknight let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and before Tanguish could scramble away from him, or devolve into a blubbering mess, or shake apart or fall under some new spell, or any of a thousand other things Tanguish could probably do, Helsknight wrapped his arms around Tanguish's neck and dragged him into a hug.

"Helsknight--"

"You idiot," Helsknight snapped, crushing Tanguish against his chest. He had the grace to drag them over to the side, so he couldn't bleed quite so much on both of them, but when Tanguish squirmed he held him tighter and refused to let him go. "Don't scare me like that again."

"H-helsknight I'm s-"

"You're sorry," Helsknight interrupted him, screwing his eyes shut, suddenly scared he was going to start crying too. From relief. From the ridiculousness of whatever had happened. From the closeness to disaster. From how angry he was that Tanguish felt the need to apologize. "Gods. I thought I'd lost you."

Tanguish had the audacity to laugh, a miserable hiccup of a noise that tangled itself in growing sobs, and muffled itself against Helsknight's chest. "You thought you lost me?"

"You were so quiet," Helsknight said, feeling dread lance through his stomach like a knife wound. "It's like you weren't even there."

"I was there," Tanguish whispered, his fists balled into Helsknight's shirt, like he could somehow cling closer. "I was there."

"Of course you were," Helsknight murmured back. "Of course you were."

#Situation Asks #RnS asks #helsknight #tanguish #countthelions #you. you knew EXACTLY what you asked for you fiend #tw blood #tw fighting #tw wounds #gosh but it was amazing angsty fun to write #probably won't get to any more of the asks tonight this one took awhile #but feel free to send more #all terrible things happen in the kitchen jsyk #rns ficlet

[crow-n-tell]

HELLO AND WELCOOOOME TO!

What kind of jellyfish is sun?

I got some requests about getting a lil layout of what jellyfish types I combined to get him the way I did for moon in this post. It’s not as fun and detailed as moons because, let’s face it: jellyfish are pretty straight forward but!! Here

Phacellophora Camtschatica

aka The Fried Egg Jellyfish.

This is the biggest and most obvious part of Sunny’s design, he‘s an egg boy and I love him for it. But also there’s an interesting bit about the relationship between fried egg jellyfish and larval crabs. See these lil baby crabs?

Yeah so they climb inside fried egg jellyfish and just. RIDE AROUND IN THEIR BELL? Consequences be damned lil dudes chillin in there getting a ride. Which makes this the second time I’ve seen other animals use jellyfish as transportation. Baby octopus, baby crabs, with sun’s size it’s safe to say reader could probably do the same.

Though maybe reader wouldn’t want to do that because the whole reason larval crabs are chilling in their bell is also because jellyfish, while not capable of being infected by parasites cause they… they don’t have the bits that help parasites do the meat suit piloting… are carriers of parasites! They just walk around with em chilling in there. Larval crabs love monchin on em.

Next up is!!

Chrysaora Fuscesscens

aka

Honestly pacific sea nettles don't have many interesting facts about them. What can I say? they are very very long - talking 15 feet long. Other than that there isn't much else to say, I wish I could list something insane off like, OH THEY’VE GOT LAZER EYES. Nope. These guys float around looking like beautiful undersea mushrooms and they need no special skills to do that.

Uh. Yeah it’s not a jellyfish. This specially has to do with Sunny’s electric ability. Maybe you were thinking, oh so he’s like electric eels? (Which actually aren’t eels! They are a type of knife fish) no no, I am a perfectionist! I aim for accuracy and I also aim for the fun of science. While jellyfish cannot actually 🎵 shock you like a electric eel 🎶, jellyfish can SORT OF generate electricity.

Via a green gooey substance in the bells of jellyfish, scientists have discovered that by exposing it to ultraviolet light it produces electrons. Layman's terms? SOLAR POWERED GOO. While jellyfish have not harnessed the solar goo, scientists have actually found a way of using it to make a new form of green electricity!

So while Sun isn't electric the way an electric eel is, he still has a way of using electricity to make him a pretty powerful lil taser. Enough to put something smaller than him in a cardiac arrest, and give something his size or bigger a good reason to scamper off.

SOLAR POWERED SUN!

Which leads to my finishing notes.

While sun uses his zapper stuff quite a bit, he does have a regular sting too. While relatively less lethal than his zapping for bigger creatures, it does function as a paralytic! For smaller creatures it’s Uh…. Its a lil more dangerous. Good thing neoprene is sting proof haha.

And I had something else…

I recently posted a magma with Sunny sleeping.

This is based around the jellyfish that scientist found out sleep, Cassiopeia.

They are usually just chilling like that, bell down. Looking at them like this it really makes you think about how closely related they are to sea anemones huh? Lil freaks.

Sometime soon I’ll post a eclipse version of this, which I’m excited about because I love sharks SO MUCH.

#my art #mermaid au #the daycare attendant #mermaid dca #jellyfish!sun

[decemberblue]

Amanita phalloides, commonly known as the death cap. It is one of the most poisonous of all known mushrooms. 

Even very small fragments can be lethal (about 0.1 milligrams of fresh weight for every kilogram of weight of the person who ingests it), so about 7 mg for a 70 kg adult man; furthermore, the mushroom retains all its poisonous properties even after cooking, drying and freezing.

Found it today, 15 October 2023.

#original photographs #amanita phalloides #death cap #mushrooms #mushroomcore #fungi #mycology #foraging #autumn aesthetic #purple aesthetic #fairycore #dark fairycore #fairy aesthetic #fairy cottage #cottage witch #dark cottagecore #woods #forest #dark forest #forest floor #other #diary #studyblr #I found her!!!🥳🎉 #it is not the destroying angel but I was also looking for this 🎉 #Mary Katherine Blackwood likes this

[dnd-smash-pass-vs]

Zuggtmoy, the Lady of Rot and Decay. Fun fact, not actually an manifestation of mushrooms. Only the decomposition aspect, not the renewal part. She often crafts herself a human-like form to parody life, but truly is an unknowable mass of fungus and rot. I'm gonna be real, she has mind control spores and you're probably going to end up under their effects. Like, infecting everything with spores is her entire goal in life, it's going to happen. The mind control ones aren't lethal, they just charm you into liking her and let her influence you. I mean she does have deadly ones too, but I assume that's not what you're after.

#zuggtmoy #dnd #dnd5e #DnD 5e #d&d #smash or pass #5e #monsters of the multiverse #mpmm

[bishops-of-the-old-faith]

Bishops of the old faith, what are your favorite methods or re-educating or sacrificing dissenters.

Hang them high up in the trees or bury them underground until they comply or die. Everyone is afraid of at least one of those things! It's a real motivator.

The fungal forest that makes up Anura needs to be fed, too. Often times, in groups of them, we pick one to feed to a mushroom tree and let the others sit back and watch as they're consumed. The fungi work surprisingly fast.

No rest for the wicked... that's the typical saying. I string the worst up in cages in my realm and hit them while walking by. It's a fun noise, all the chain jingles and screaming!

Why let bodies go to waste just sitting there or hanging around? Heretics make great test subjects for new pathogens. There's quite a few different flavors of lethal on my shelves, but I have also been wanting to work with debilitating, crippling, but ultimately not deadly diseases. Suffering is half the fun with these. But if they ask nicely enough and promise not to misbehave, I may relieve them of their ailment early.

Humiliation is a great motivator for everything. Though Silk Cradle's larger settlements can be spread out, they house many dissenters. They're locked up in lines to be laughed at and scorned for their silly ideas. They may still try to hold debates with those around them, but they will eventually see the error of their ways. And for the individuals that are too stubborn to change, I hope they can fight for the privilege to live.

#leshy #heket #narinder #kallamar #shamura #theskyiscorn #text post

[t34-mt]

I’m sure this was already mentioned but, in the war, who’s fighting who? Is it an ideological or territorial battle? The war is mentioned a lot in here but what is it? And of course what’s the outcome?

Sorry for just spamming you with questions lol I’m just curious

no it wasn't! This has been sitting in my inbox cause it's not something I could resume in 1 ask without getting mad at myself for bastardizing stuff with years of context in the world. Also, I started writing it then never finished, which thank god cause it was old info and now i can use this ask in another way. I'd like to clarify things about that period that I don't want people to assume!

I don't remember whatever I said about it on my blog, and since I don't trust myself I'll assume all of it is old content from when I wasn't sure what I wanted. Either way I started altuyur when i was 17 its my problem if it sucked.

1 - The first contact didn't instantly explode into GA.

first contact refers to kyhuines having first contact with their bigger cousins, maanuls, after the successful expedition to traverse the Mashrkhfrah mountain range. A mountain belt that almost surrounded the entirety of kyhuine's habitats.

The other exit of it being a biome kyhuines couldn't traverse with the technology they had at the time, "mierthri" biomes or "deep red". The microorganisms found in the air and water there are lethal to them, and the density of the flora (most of it are actually mushrooms that evolved to act more like plants) and the fauna found there don't help either. It was safer to pass by the mountain range, however it wasn't easy either. 

The subject of the traverse itself is years of content too in the world with context on why and who, so its not something i can talk about in-depth here either. I will say that the mountains are a sacred place for multiple cultures where traversing the Alps wasn't permitted. It was taboo for many, politically many groups and representatives were involved, and so on.

The two species knowing each other lasts decades. Meeting maanuls after the traverse was a shock, obviously. However, they didn't go to war just cause they found a new species, because that's not what the war is about. 

2 - GA isn't about a species war

GA isn't maanuls or kyhuines wanting the other extinct or some odd reasons.

There are many reasons why conflict started, which are mainly about systems sucking rather than them being species racist. Sure, harmful beliefs founded on baseless rumors could happen in some factions such as red troupes and section 4. But they were more based on the place they lived in rather than their species. The belief that “kaar’kchir people love living under this system, they all support it, it's in their nature” was a solid one during the conflict and even a bit after.

In short, a list of what caused it. But the causes in the world remain a debated issue in KEO period.

Civil wars in surrounding colonies of kaar’kchir city

Rise of milletarism in kaar’kchir

Security dilemmas

Growth of “nationalism” (in quotes because countries aren't a thing there)

Territorial disputes

 which are linked to:

resource problems and famines

And so on. New political factions formed in response to specific events or actions from other groups. Them gained importance, the belief that war was inevitable, and misunderstandings in diplomatic communications didn't help. There is many factors, so much so that people who joined military factions weren't even sure what was truly happening, being lured in with promises of becoming a hero for your people.

also

The major factions of it

bronze talons, known as red troupes after reform (it is intentional to be written as “troupe”)

section 4

ktlle

tamsitkah

there are other groups around but the most known and important were these 4.

3 - GA isn't the first conflict ever

Conflicts has always been a thing between colonies on Altuyur. While their history was quite peaceful compared to ours in general, it doesn't mean they never had conflicts between two different colonies. however, they were vastly resolved through talk, and debates that could last days or up to a week. Or through organized matches, ranging from culture-specific board games to even sports. Wrestling an important cultural sport in the north, even originated from this.

If there truly was no way to settle on an agreement between the two colonies. Members who wanted to do it their way, thinking there was no reasonable agreement to be had, would sometimes (although keep in mind rarely) make small groups and would plan to attack the others. Due to resolving to violence instead of finding another way, they'd be shamed by their home colony for their behavior and other neighboring groups could go as far as not wanting to trade for a while with them. Even if combats can be a grey thing in certain situations for them there's generally never an excuse for it. But, that is different among certain cultures that aren't so against violence. High plateau kyhuine groups do not see the shame others do in the act of organizing combats with talon extension to resolve conflicts. 

However while small conflicts were always a thing, that in the vast majority would be resolved quickly or at least with minimal harm, they never had an actual war. At least never something so big and important until the GA period.

Bonus - Forget everything you know about GA characters honestly 

I am ridiculously shy about them online and used to not know what to do with these freaks before. So sadly my blog is a shelter for old characterization. I am well aware for example that Monmartre is my most known character yet its the one no one knows anything about especially considering the complete rewrite of it i did almost a year ago now.

But whatever I'll try to be more open about them someday, since they’re people of altuyur history some can be somewhat important to it.

Bonus 2 -The traverse wasn't the first actual contact!

Tales of "giants with a sword face" for kyhuines, or "tiny people" for maanuls, might stem from them meeting their cousin's thousands of years ago during what's considered as "prehistory" for them. Some rare cave paintings also depict people that look like x species.

They forgot about each others, and they became rumors that turned into mythical beasts.

—

yes i disappeared for a while and now i come back saying i wrote garbage on this blog before yeah 

#this ask been rotting for a year or two #ask #worldbuilding #kyhuine #maanul #txt #GA #red troupes #section 4 #tamsitkah #writing #fiction #altuyur #2024 #oc discussion #im back from the trenches

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Strong Dragons (Part Four)

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Masterlist Here

Pairing: Daemon x Fem!Reader x Rhaenyra

Warnings: NSFW! 18+ only! Smut, mature themes and language, P in V, dirty talking, breeding kink, fingering, arranged marriages, unprotected rough/raw sex (wrap it before you tap it), incest, oral (female receiving), dom!rhaenyra, graphic depictions of pregnancy and labor, threesomes, death, depictions of both the books and shows, etc.

Word Count: 7,563

Tag: strong dragons hotd fic

Summary: Y/n’s pregnancy progresses as well as her reputation on Dragonstone. Daemon and Rhaenyra are enthralled by their Mother of Dragons.

Requested by: @ivy-targaryen​

Taglist:

@lol-im-done @stitchattacks @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @faerosewood1723 @esquivelbianca @demiismylord @evattude @goldensunflowe-r @fexibau @chiyausu   @aphroditesmoon @winter-soldier-101 @ashlatano7567   @mochimommy2002 @champomiel @ilovemydinoboi @jackthemarvelfinatic @kindaslightlyacidic @bubbles2416 @hotd-fic @thatkinkylesgirl1 @nnyets @honeypillowsblog @pindoris @sugarmilkteaxkookiesxcream @rxscpctals @lethal-minds @witch-of-letters @green-lxght @wondergal2001 @boofy1998 @elliemilani @minbeatriz16 @siriusdumblittlepuppy   @rockerchick05 @midnightrqin @starloriha @kaitieskidmore1 @kat4na @ally22042000 @deathlyweird @eonnyx @weepingwitchofthewest @borikenlove @lovleaura @thewitch-lives @kneelarmhstrung @xrosegoldwolfx @mikariell95 @mxxny-lupin @gruffle1 @siimiasoi @the-spectacular-spider-bitch @automaticwizardnerd @here4thefanfic @i-love-morally-gray-characters​ @esmeralda-tupi​ @deadgirldreaming​ @poppyreader​ @mukduk-not-murder @bri3009 @issybee0611​ ​@nzygftoji @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​ @watercolorskyy​ @ripnevillestrevor

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

A/N: Tumblr kept deleting this as I worked on it so now I’m frustrated to the point I’m in tears. I’m definitely taking a break from this series as I’m too exhausted to bother right now after all that stress.

The following week upon Y/n's arrival was a busy one, to be sure. Dragonstone was filled with activity as Rhaenyra announced to her staff that both Prince Daemon and Lady Y/n would act as every bit the lord and lady of the keep as the princess and her own husband. The servants, loyal to Rhaenyra and loyal to her secret arrangement, welcomed Y/n with open arms, each individual introducing themselves while Y/n tried her best to remember all their names for their devoted kindness. It appeared as though the idea of a child excited the entire island -not just her lovers- as they helped their new lady feel at home.

Gerardys, Rhaenyra's head maester assigned to Dragonstone, confirmed what Y/n already knew, that she was, indeed, with child. He suspected that she was, at the very least, three moons along, since she hasn't even begun to show through her dresses. Now that her pregnancy was confirmed, Rhaenyra made sure to provide the best servants for her female lover, even introducing her to her own handmaidens, including the most loyal, Elinda Massey. Elinda was the youngest of Rhaenyra's ladies-in-waiting and the most devoted to House Targaryen overall. She was sweet and caring, a pretty young woman who pulled at Y/n's heartstrings. After meeting Elinda, Y/n pats Rhaenyra's arm and assures her that she would get along beautifully with her handmaidens.

Y/n had been aware of the fool, Mushroom. She knew of him only by reputation in court, a three-foot dwarf with a large head and a lackwit of intelligence, but nevertheless, a devoted, loyal servant to Rhaenyra, who has known him for the entirety of her father's reign. Mushroom tended to favor the princess over King Viserys and therefore followed her back to Dragonstone. Once introduced to all the handmaids at her disposal, Y/n was then greeted by a particular servant Rhaenyra had promised would make her laugh. Mushroom was delightful to Lady Y/n. A little crude, perhaps, but he did indeed earn a hearty laugh out of her and a silent trust to always rely on him with her secrets, as many have gained with Mushroom over the years, whether it was earned or foolishly given.

While Rhaenyra was in charge of Y/n becoming acquainted with her staff, Daemon charged himself with helping his new wife feel more comfortable with the island itself. He took her on many walks along the beaches and gave her plenty of cautionary tales about the volcano looming over their new castle. He made sure Y/n was aware of the many caves surrounding the island of his ancestral home, and informed her of what to do should she ever accidentally stumble upon a dragon. Daemon wasn't entirely worried about the tamed ones, as long as Y/n didn't try to ride them without their respective companion... he was more or less bothered by the idea of his pregnant wife accidentally coming across a dragon with no rider.

"How many are there?" She had asked one night over dinner, "Which dragons are without a rider?"

"Vermithor and Silverwing are castle dragons, beasts who had been tamed before but over the years have lost their riders," Daemon explained from his seat beside her, one of his arms draped over the back of her chair, "They once belonged to King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne, my grandparents. Then there are the wild dragons, beasts untamed and have never known the bond of a rider. Grey Ghost, the Cannibal, and Sheepstealer are the ones you should be most careful of."

"That doesn't mean to be less cautious of the other dragons, like Vermithor and Silverwing," Rhaenyra had cut in with alert eyes captivating Y/n's, "They may have known human companionship in the past, but that doesn't mean they will be familiar with you. It's been a long time since they have been ridden, therefore it's best to just give them their space and they will give you yours."

"Our dragons might be the most decent towards you," Laenor assures Y/n, "Caraxes, Syrax, and Seasmoke have more experience with human interaction and are smart enough to realize that you are a friend to them. But I wouldn't suggest seeking them out unless you were with one of us."

"Which reminds me," Rhaenyra beams, avoiding the less dreary topic while setting down her fork excitedly, "With our new prince or princess on the way, we will need to pick out a dragon egg for them."

One of the many topics that made Y/n feel like a stranger in her new home. She had nearly forgotten the prospect of a dragon baby in her belly, "To place it in their crib, right?"

"That is the custom, yes. Usually, the parent chooses the egg, and you are welcome to come with us."

"Into Dragonmont?" The woman's dark eyes widen, looking around at the three dragon riders before her, sheepish and possibly worried, "I have no experience with dragons let alone their eggs."

Daemon nods in agreement, addressing his wife but exchanging a glance of approval with Rhaenyra, "It's best if we get you and the dragons properly acquainted then."

Rhaenyra nods in response, "Perhaps you should ride with one of us on our dragon."

Laenor bursts out laughing, startling everyone including the servants as they bring silverware and food to and from the table. Y/n recognizes the jest and found herself in the mind of a child as she grabs the nearest thing, an apple, before aiming and throwing the fruit across the table at Laenor's head. She had missed pitifully, but the attempt made the Velaryon lord laugh, even more, clutching his midsection when his ribs began to hurt. Y/n could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment, but even the corner of her mouth turned up into an amused smile.

Rhaenyra, however, looked baffled while turning her gaze between her husband and her aunt, "Have I missed something?"

Y/n had barely heard her over Laenor's laughter. One look from Daemon slowly shuts him up, but a grin is still plastered on his face, eyes twinkling at Y/n as she bashfully ducks her head, "I didn't fare very well at sea. I doubt I'd fare well on the back of a dragon."

The princess grasps her meaning and relaxed her furrowed eyebrows, flashing a heatless glare at Laenor and causing him to cough to cover the last bit of laughter within him. Y/n playfully glared at her niece's husband as well but didn't even try to fight the smile this time.

"Well, the choice is yours, my love. You may not want to be familiar with dragons now, but perhaps you can learn and grow alongside our child's dragon when their egg hatches."

Her smile sparkles, "That would be lovely. I will start out small, just as our child will with their lifelong companion."

~~~~~~~~~

Getting used to kisses on her belly would be a bit of a challenge for Y/n, but not something she would likely grow tired of. Despite not showing through her dresses, it's clear to her lovers that her body has already begun to change in order to accommodate the child. Rhaenyra blatantly kisses Y/n's abdomen one night, after already shedding the Lady Strong of all her layers, and feels the slowly forming bump beneath her pale lips. Rhaenyra smiled into her female lover's flesh, biting back a moan when Daemon involuntarily thrusts into her at the sight before him, Y/n sprawled over the edge of the bed while Rhaenyra bent over her. Daemon stood behind Rhaenyra, lined up against her backside as he continued to pull out and slowly ease back into her heat. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra continued to kiss Y/n's belly before leaving a wet trail down to her already glistening cunt, the princess softly blowing cool air over the heat and sending shivers up the lady's spine. Y/n arched her back, whimpering without any friction to satisfy her needs, trying her best to remain still with her hands fisting the bedsheets near her head.

"Rhaenyra--"

"My apologies, love," the princess kissed the soft inside of the lady's thigh. Y/n could feel her smirk against her trembling skin, "I was merely doting on our child."

Y/n scoffs up at the ceiling, "Perhaps you should dote on me first, or else I'll pray to the gods for our child to bear my reputation of holding a grudge."

"We best be careful with this one," Daemon cuts in, still thrusting his hips against Rhaenyra's arse while whispering into her ear, amusement stitched into his low voice, "I'm beginning to think her bite is worse than her bark."

Rhaenyra hums in agreement, closing her eyes and pulling her head back in bliss when his cock hits that certain, perfect spot inside her, "I think she's becoming more of a dragon the longer she's here. Perhaps it is both a blessing and a curse."

"It'd be less of a curse if you would stop talking and touch me, Princess."

The female Targaryen is startled out of laughter, gasping up to the ceiling of her chambers when Daemon's hip jerks forward unexpectedly, out of rhythm. Both uncle and niece are clearly affected by their Strong woman's demand, both equally shocked and aroused by her sudden boldness.

"If pregnancy brings out this side of you, I think we'll have to keep you full with our children all the time."

~~~~~~~~~

High Valyrian proved to be a difficult language to learn. Y/n had asked one evening if one or both of her lovers could teach her so that she might be able to communicate with them and any children they'll have in the future. Daemon and Rhaenyra were delighted to teach Y/n their mother tongue and tried their best to teach her when any free time was given. Much like the times Y/n and Daemon would spend time together by the hearth in King's Landing, the three lovers now spent the same time by the hearth together on Dragonstone.

"Ñuhon lenton Targārien jorrāelza issa?" She tried reciting one evening, her nose scrunching up as even she doubted the way she phrased the sentence, "'My love is for House Targaryen?'"

Lounging on the other end of the couch, fondly watching her female lover, Rhaenyra faintly smiled, a breath of laughter escaping her lips, "You were close, my love, though I believe there's an easier way to phrase that."

Y/n's eyebrows scrunch together in frustration, scowling, "It doesn't help that there are half a dozen ways to say your family name and half a dozen ways to say 'my'."

"We can continue learning words before having you recite full sentences." When Y/n nods in agreement, Rhaenyra straightens her posture to be fully facing her, "Mountain."

"Blēnon."

"Mountains?"

"Blēna."

"Iron Throne." Their male lover cuts in from the chair across from them, wine goblet in one hand and an open book in the other.

"Daemon."

He shrugs in response to Rhaenyra's reprimand, "She'll likely be saying that more often than 'mountain.'"

Y/n's expression turns devious, her eyes shining with mischief while purposely staring Daemon directly in the eyes as she spoke in confidence, "Āegenkon Dēmalion."

The fire blazing in the hearth casts a dark shadow over Daemon's silhouette, but Y/n's figure is ignited by the flames, glowing softly, driving the Rogue Prince into silence. He stares right back, the essence of a gentle smirk beginning to form as he stands from his seat, "Very good, lady wife."

She beams with pride, tilting her head up to him, carefully watching his every move as she responds in kind to his praise, "Targārien kostōba Āegenkon Dēmalion issi."

{Targaryens are powerful on the Iron Throne}

Even Rhaenyra's stomach jumped with delight at Y/n's powerful phrase, complementary to the way Daemon sinks to his knees in front of the woman as if her words weighed him down. He was short of breath, strong hands reaching out to caress her legs beneath her skirt, reaching up underneath until they graze the inside of her thighs, "Excellent. And how would you say 'my son will sit upon the Iron Throne?'"

Y/n shivered under his touch, her eyes fluttering shut as she willed herself not to move under his ministrations. She had nearly forgotten her husband's question until she felt Rhaenyra's hand in her hair, bringing her back down to the mortal realm. By now, Daemon's fingers were already reaching into forbidden places in the eyes of the gods, while his forehead leans into her growing stomach. Rhaenyra was placing soft kisses into Y/n's shoulder, over her dress until the princess decided to move the sleeve aside and continue the kisses along her bare skin. Y/n licked her lips, forcing herself to remember her lessons, hesitant compared to the other two phrases as she stutters out a response,

"... Ñuhon trēsy Āegenkon Dēmalion dēmagon."

~~~~~~~~~

"My love. We have a gift for you."

Looking up from her book, Y/n spotted Rhaenyra standing in the open doorway of her chambers, Daemon following close behind the princess as they entered their expecting lover's apartments. Smiling, Y/n closed her book and carefully stood from her chair, one arm sticking out for balance while the other held onto the more prominent bump around her middle that has grown significantly in the last few moons. Peering back at her lovers and noticing their appalled reactions, Y/n flashed them a devious look. They had recently become more possessive than usual and dote on Y/n almost religiously, worried by every step she takes. Normally, they are right by her side when she has to stand up, and even Lady Strong could admit that they're helpful in that aspect. Sometimes it's hard to get back up on her feet. If it weren't for her silver-haired dragons, Y/n would have likely found herself stuck in place until someone would eventually came around and find her there.

Daemon rolled his eyes at his wife's antics, stepping forward to take her hand in his while looping his free arm around her lower back, and walking alongside her toward her tea table. Y/n directed her gaze to the door again when two figures emerged, carrying a rather large item.

A large urn, heavy enough that two dragonkeepers must lift it together. It was round and likely made of iron, with padded handles the dragonkeepers used to carry and refrain from burning themselves. They place the urn on the tea table, hot steam billowing out from beneath the lid. When Rhaenyra nods her head, one of the dragonkeepers removes the big lid, slowly to further express its weight. Inside, without being told, it wasn't hard for Y/n to guess that the gift was none other than a dragon egg. She had never seen one before, but the rounded shape and the light green, scale-like shell surrounding it was a dead giveaway. Heated coals and embers surround the object, acting as a portable incubator.

Daemon announced the egg with pride, "A gift fit for the Mother of Dragons."

Y/n reached her hand out but refrained from touching the egg, feeling the heat coming off around the scales. Her smile was faint, eyes sparkling in awe as she breathlessly stated, "It's beautiful."

Rhaenyra beamed proudly at the praise, "I picked it out myself."

Daemon moved to stand behind Y/n, hands gently holding her shoulders as he kissed the back of her head, "A dragon egg sired from Syrax and Caraxes. There could not be a more perfect choice for our future prince or princess."

Rhaenyra reaches out and Y/n gladly takes her accepted hand. The princess brings her female lover's hand over to the egg, unafraid and showing the lady that the egg was not too hot to the touch. It was considerably warm, forming sweat in Y/n's palm almost instantly, but Rhaenyra appeared unbothered by the heat, "Hold this against your womb tonight, my dear. And when the baby gets here, we will leave it in its crib."

The expecting mother nods in understanding, taking the instructions to heart. She straightens her posture, addressing the dragonkeepers standing across the table. Y/n nods to them, trying to best to perfect her accent as she spoke, "Kirimvose." {Thank you}

The dragonkeepers nod back, eyes widening in acknowledgment of her proper pronunciation. Rhaenyra radiates pride for Y/n's High Valyrian before she also addressed the dragonkeepers using the same tongue. They leave at her behest and Daemon moves away from Y/n and circles the table, placing the urn's cover over the egg again.

Y/n takes her hands back and places them on her new perch over her belly. A thought enters her head and she hesitates for only a moment before addressing her lovers, "Speaking of the baby's arrival. I have made arrangements with the midwives for when I begin my labors." Both Targaryens tilt their heads in attention to her and she continues, "I will have four attend to me along with Maester Gerardys and Elinda Massey."

"Do you not want us there?" Daemon questions with a small raised eyebrow.

"I wouldn't ask that of you," she explained gently, "Traditionally, husbands don't accompany their wives to the birthing bed. I would be content if the two of you accompany each other on dragonback while I go into labor."

"That's not what he asked, my love," Rhaenyra countered quietly, "He asked if you did not want us there for the birth. If that's what you truly want, then say the word and we'll respect it. But I doubt it." Her suspicions were correct, as Y/n appeared troubled, a crinkle forming between her eyes when her eyebrows scrunched together, "What is it?"

"It's just..." Y/n sighed heavily, her weight shifting with the pregnant stomach clearly weighing her down, "Both you and Daemon have suffered the horrors of childbirth. You might not have experienced it personally, but you have suffered through both of your mothers. Aemma and Alyssa suffered and perished due to complications of childbirth, did they not?"

Neither of them answered, but their eyes appeared haunted at the reminder, nevertheless. Y/n shook her head as her voice slowly began to crumble, "... I couldn't possibly ask you both to sit and watch something like that happen to me."

The Rogue Prince appeared skeptical, "And you believe something like that will happen to you?"

Rhaenyra changes direction, addressing Daemon in defense of Y/n, "Childbirth is a woman's battlefield, Uncle. Many women, even the strongest, sometimes never survive it. It is the way of things... at least that is what my mother told me."

The princess turns back to Y/n, rounding the table to draw closer to her. A mist forms in Rhaenyra's eyes, clouded by distant, unpleasant memories, "I wasn't there when my mother died. I wish I was. Perhaps I could have been a form of comfort for her. I could have held my brother for however long he lived. I won't make that mistake again." She slowly moved her hands up, placing them on either side of Y/n's face to gently force their eyes to meet, stepping closer until their unborn child was snug between their bodies, "It would hurt me more if I was not there for you. Riding on dragonback while you faced this alone would not give me peace of mind. Please, allow me to stay with you."

Y/n hesitates, opening and closing her mouth but couldn't find the words she was searching for. Instead of refusing, she nods, letting out a shaking breath as Rhaenyra pulls her face in and kisses her cheek lovingly. They share that moment of silence, past ghosts still fresh in their minds before they both take a deep breath and turn to their prince, awaiting him.

Daemon moves around the table to join them, his pale eyes fixed on Y/n, "My mother was strong. Stronger than most of the women in my family... and my brother, they named him Aegon... he didn't survive long after she... I was too young to remember much, but I know that if I had the power, I would have taken my mother's pain from her. In a heartbeat. If I could somehow pull it from you, I would. Let me try."

Even if she was unsure of accepting the offer, Y/n didn't want to necessarily worry her lovers more by arguing further. She knew that if she wanted to refuse, she could, and they would respect her decision, no matter how much it would concern them. However, she couldn't bring herself to do so, nodding to Daemon in acceptance.

~~~~~~~~~

For the majority of her pregnancy, Y/n appeared blessed with easy, healthy milestones. Not to say Y/n didn't have any unpleasant days. She was nauseous toward the beginning and her feet ached when she began to grow round, but the biggest most unpleasant change was her attitude. Daemon and Rhaenyra were not the only ones who noticed Y/n's bite. Servants, maesters, and dragonkeepers alike noticed the change in aggression. It wasn't as though Lady Y/n was violent or unbearable, but if it wasn't for the known fact that she was a Strong, most people of Dragonstone would've initially believed she was born a Targaryen and not just married to one.

Laenor didn't appear to mind this new side of Y/n. In fact, he very much enjoyed it. It was like being back home in Driftmark with his sister, full of spirit and brutally honest.

"Must you always wear that pin?" Y/n sneered as she crossed the gardens to join the Velaryon, holding her stomach as she waddled.

Laenor grinned, standing up to help her into the chair next to him, "My sister gave it to me as a wedding gift. Don't tell me a seahorse makes you nauseous, too."

She groaned as she sat down, "The idea of the sea makes me nauseous."

He hummed in agreement as he settled beside her. They met almost daily in Aegon's Garden so the lady could get fresh air, and more times than not, they would summon Mushroom to entertain them. Today was no different, the fool making his appearance not long after Y/n and going about his newest routine of tricks and mischief.

As the fool performs, Laenor leans into the lady's space, "You're cross. And I doubt it's over my pin. What ails you, good aunt?"

She side-eyes him for the address of her title over him, eyebrows angled in annoyance as she spoke, "Both my husband and your wife have insisted on being with me for the birth."

His eyebrows raise, unsurprised, "And? Are you asking me to join as well?"

"Heavens, no, I wouldn't even play at the idea of you seeing my cunt."

"I appreciate it."

Y/n snorts and smacks his shoulder light-heartedly, "Shut up. I'm just... terrified that something bad will happen and they'll have to... watch the child or me or even both of us die."

"Why must you think about what might happen?"

"Because I'm a realist, Laenor."

The Verlaryon frowns, unconvinced, "You married a prince and secretly planned on carrying his children then passing them off as someone else's. Is that what you would consider being a realist?"

"Don't patronize me. I'm just simply stating that childbirth isn't easy. It's torture. Septas can romanticize it all they want but I wouldn't exactly listen to celibate women who have never borne a child. A wet nurse is likely to tell you the truth and the horrors behind the labors. Many women bleed out, or many of them birth stillborns. I... I've heard rumors of a more recent practice."

"Such as?"

She bites her lip and grows quiet, unsure if she should gossip about what she may or may not have learned. It wasn't a known rumor, and she had mostly heard it between women in the court of King's Landing. But if there was any lord she could trust, aside from her twin brother and her husband, it was Ser Laenor, "Maesters have learned that in order to save the child, they can cut the mother open and pull the infant from her womb. It's not ethical, but the studies show that if they must decide who to save if the threat of losing both is imminent, the maester will turn to the husband to decide."

"That's not even unethical. It's also barbaric!" Laenor exclaims, appalled as rage crosses his features, reminding Y/n that he was half Targaryen as well as Velaryon, "Surely, no one would approve of this method."

"I don't know. All I know is... it's not going to be easy."

"I would suggest raspberry leaf tea."

Both Laenor and Y/n look to the third voice, only to find Mushroom to be the only other person in the gardens. The dwarf fool had since stopped his tomfoolery and just stood there, looking at the pair of them expectedly, head tilted. Both of them looked at him, shocked as if they had forgotten he was there.

Y/n tilted her head back at him, curiosity getting the better of her, "Pardon?"

"Raspberry leaf tea." The dwarf stated confidently, puffing out his chest with pride.

"Perhaps you should properly address the lady before barging into her conversation, jester." Laenor's lips thin out, eyes narrowed suspiciously at the fool.

"It's alright, Ser Laenor." She mocks amusingly at the lord beside her before turning back to Mushroom, addressing the small man sweetly, "Why raspberries?"

"All whores know the ingredients and methods of concocting moon tea. In their line of work, it is essential and necessary." Mushroom flashes a vulpine grin, the corner of his lips stretching from ear to ear, "Not many men would bed a whore with child."

"Get to the point faster, fool." Laenor grumbled, nose scrunched in response to the dwarf's boldness, "I doubt you would talk to his lady wife in this manner if Prince Daemon were here."

"However, there are times moon tea does not work or a whore forgets to even drink it. There are times when children are born and to make the labors bearable, the whores have created a simple concoction, one that makes the birthing easier and sometimes faster. Raspberry leaf tea."

Y/n clung to every single word, awestruck and suspicious all at once, "And this tea does not harm the child?"

"Not to my knowledge."

Laenor stood once he realized that Y/n was actually entertaining the ideas of the fool, "I will speak with the maester to confirm or deny this."

"Thank you, Laenor." She smiled and watched him leave before turning her head back down to the dwarf in front of her, "And thank you, Mushroom."

Bells jingle obnoxiously as Mushroom dips into a bow, overplaying his courtesy with flair, "I am but a humble servant, my lady."

Doubtful but amused, Y/n laughed quietly under her breath, the small noise joining the soft, scented breeze of the garden, "I would hardly describe you as humble if you are to be believed knowledgeable in the methods of whores."

"Perhaps it's humble if I use my knowledge to soften my lady's worries," Mushroom beamed confidently, "After all, it would be a shame if maesters learned how to save the child, but not the mother."

"Well said, my fool."

~~~~~~~~~

Maester Gerardys listened to Laenor's suggestion and then proceeded to intently research before approving the consumption of such tea. He recommended Lady Y/n drink the tea before bed every night, and thus a new nightly routine was born. After such a heavy discussion about the dangers of childbirth, Rhaenyra was visibly relieved when Y/n took to finding solutions and even learned how to make the tea herself to aid her pregnant aunt.

In Mushroom's Testimony, published years down the road, the dwarf stated it was all because of the tea he had recommended to the Mother of Dragons prior to the birth that made the babe slip out so easily. He even spun a small tale about how the tea softened Lady Y/n's womb so much that she had barely noticed she had given birth. Much like a giraffe, Mushroom's tale would have us believe that Y/n had simply gotten up after her child was born and went about her day as if nothing ever happened.

Other scholars who wrote about such historical events did not agree with this, however, despite the fact that Mushroom was the only source to be on Dragonstone when Y/n Strong went into labor. It had been early morning when Y/n awoke in Rhaenyra's chambers, the sun not yet fully rising over the island but the sky was becoming a lovely purple and the stars were disappearing. Daemon had rolled over just as Y/n was trying to rise out of bed, Rhaenyra still unconscious to the world around her on the opposite side of her uncle.

"Careful, wife," Daemon muttered into the pillow, only half awake, "I wouldn't try getting out of bed so fast if I were you."

The responding thud that echoed throughout the room drove Prince Daemon into survival mode, waking every instinct he had as he lunged out of bed to search for Y/n. She had not gone far, having landed on her knees just at the foot of the bed, one hand holding her stomach while the other was placed on the floor below, holding her up.

Chaos erupted that early, quiet morning. Rhaenyra was roused as was the rest of the keep in response to Daemon's demand for the maester and the nurses. When asked, Y/n will look back and have little to no memory of what happened that fateful day. She remembered the labor being quicker than anticipated, given this was her first child, but over time she had forgotten what the pain felt like. Her mind was either not as sharp as it once was or it had purposefully locked away those certain traumatic events.

Needless to say, there were a few small things she remembered that she was able to reiterate in the future when asked. Maester Gerardys had refused to move Y/n from her knees on the floor, stating it was too late to place her in the child bed. The baby was coming quickly and it had barely given anyone enough time to prepare for its arrival. So Lady Y/n was forced to stay where she had landed, but she was not alone. She remembered holding onto Daemon for dear life and he dutifully stood still for her, anchoring her, gripping her arms though not as tight or as fiercely as she held onto him whilst she cried out in pain, resting her sweating forehead on the center of his chest. Rhaenyra had finally joined her as well, pulling her hair out of her face and occasionally rubbing her back and hips. The princess had gratefully taken a pillow from Elinda when she arrived to help and placed the pillow underneath poor Y/n's knees which were already bruised and will continue to be for the foreseeable future.

Daemon's heartbeat and Rhaenyra's gentle voice were all Y/n could remember apart from her screams. That, and the weird shifting of her internal organs as everything moved down with her baby and with gravity. After that, the pain subsided and Y/n remembered taking big, sobbing gulps of air, clinging onto Daemon weakly as every part of her body began to violently shake in exhaustion. Her gasps and cries were the only things echoing in her ears as the whole room bustled about, people scrambling and shouting that Y/n was unaware of. Daemon held her close and eventually demanded the maester that they move her to the bed. Gerardys agreed and by the time Daemon had lifted her into his arms, Y/n's hearing returned, and she realized that she was not the only one crying. Weakly, she turned her head in the direction of the baby's cries as Daemon laid her down over the pillows and blankets.

Nurses and maids were working frantically about the room, but one woman remained perfectly still among the chaos and Y/n instantly recognized her by her silver hair. Rhaenyra was sitting in a nearby chair, smiling widely to the point her cheeks had to hurt, her misty eyes staring down at the bloody, crying babe in her lap as Elinda knelt before the princess to wipe down the infant, not having the heart to take the child from her in order to clean it. Y/n's breath had been stolen again, and her gaze never broke from the infant even as a couple of the maids came around to help clean the blood and grime from her skin. She could briefly recollect Daemon's hand in hers and another gently brushing her hair, remaining dutifully at her side while Rhaenyra attended to the child.

With the babe finally cleaned and swaddled, Rhaenyra carefully lifted it into her arms as she stood up, moving toward the bed where her eyes finally met Y/n's, tear tracks of joy cutting through her flawless face, "A son, my love. Our Little Jace is here."

~~~~~~~~~

Jacaerys Velaryon.

Y/n has held babies before, though she might have been too young to remember it, and even then she was smaller. A baby would feel heavy and a lot bigger than they actually were in Young Y/n's arms. But now, fully grown and with her firstborn son in her arms, Y/n was awestruck by how little and fragile he was. He wasn't born early enough to be considered sickly and after fully inspecting him, Maester Gerardys confirmed that the boy was a picture of health and only a little smaller than average. Relieved she had managed to birth a healthy son without much of a risk, Y/n hardly had a care in the world even when she noticed the small tufts of dark, incredibly soft hair her son bore on the top of his little head.

However, the day after his birth, after she had been rested and Laenor was able to meet his son for the first time, Y/n spoke of the future with a shadow over her eyes, "On my wedding day, you said we would cross that bridge should our baby have dark hair."

Rhaenyra looked up from watching Laenor gently rocked Jace in his arms as he slowly traveled around the room, whispering softly to the sleeping baby. Y/n was sitting comfortably in a chair by the window and meets her princess' eyes, expression blank as she continued, "Well, he does. So how do you propose we convince the world that he's yours and Ser Laenor's child?"

"Laenor's grandmother was a Baratheon. She had dark hair." Rhaenyra comments hopefully.

The dark-haired woman shook her head in response, "It won't matter. You know as well as I that the lords of the realm won't see reason in that. They only need one reason, however small, to proclaim you as an unfit heir to the throne."

"We have a fail-safe."

"Which is...?"

Daemon, still watching Laenor and Jacaerys like a hawk, spoke in regards to Y/n's question, "We let the kingdoms whisper."

"Daemon," Rhaenyra chided him, the prince shrugging without a care. His niece sighs, turning back to Y/n with a sheepish expression, "It's only half true. We let them whisper, but we misdirect them. In the public eye, I am Jace's legitimate mother. That will be indisputable. No one could deny that. But his father... it would have to be someone close to you in appearance. Someone who would do anything for you and for the crown. Someone we trust."

Y/n was no fool, but disbelief can be a bitch and it was disbelief that drove Y/n to slowly come to the realization behind Rhaenyra's words. There is a clear, hidden meaning behind how she had phrased this mystery man and Y/n wanted to outright deny it at first before she caught sight of Daemon staring at her expectedly. He trusted her to come to the same conclusion on her own and she did, albeit with a dry throat, "... My brother?"

"Yes. Ser Harwin." Rhaenyra nodded.

A flash of hurt appeared and then quickly vanished over her eyes as she looked between her two lovers, "Why was I not informed about this?"

"Because we knew you wouldn't want your brother to risk himself."

"And yet you still went through with your original plans?"

"Yes, because we also knew that your brother would do anything to protect you," Rhaenyra crossed the room, kneeling down to Y/n and clasping her hands, "He's loyal to Daemon as a soldier of the City Watch, he's loyal to me as the future Queen of Westeros and most importantly he's loyal to you as his sister. He's the perfect ally to have in King's Landing while we establish our family here on Dragonstone."

"And... and he knows about our arrangement? He's aware of all of this?"

"Yes."

A decision is made in Y/n's mind and it physically shows over her facial features, the uncertainty melting into one of petulant acceptance as she gently but firmly pulls her hands out of Rhaenyra's to take a cup of tea from the table beside her, "Next time you do something behind my back that would make me look like a fool, just don't tell me."

Unbeknownst to her, Y/n's lovers will take that promise to heart in the far future.

~~~~~~~~~

Rhaenyra writes to her father first, officially announcing the birth of her and Laenor's firstborn son. Daemon waits a few days after Rhaenyra's raven has gone before he writes a letter to Ser Harwin, inviting him to Dragonstone to visit with his sister. The prince also implied that he would like to have a soldier he could trust to be here while his niece and Ser Laenor adjust to parenthood. He had added this in case the letter was ever intercepted and considered suspicious, in case someone clever knew how to fit the missing pieces of the puzzle. King Viserys' response was joyful, congratulating his daughter and practically begging her to bring his first grandchild to King's Landing when she and the baby are well enough. Following Viserys' letter was another from the capital, announcing Ser Harwin's departure and expected arrival at House Targaryen's ancestral home.

After the letter had been received, Y/n would often find herself in the Sea Dragon Tower, usually in Laenor's chambers, overlooking the sea and waiting for a ship that would likely have her brother on board. Laenor didn't mind the intrusion as long as Y/n brought Jace with her-- or so he claimed. Despite the feigned annoyance, he always made sure Y/n had the chair with the most cushion to be seated at the window and would summon a wet nurse if his good aunt appeared not to have the strength to feed the babe herself. He secretly didn't despise her little visits if it meant getting to know the baby meant to portray as his son. The knighted Velaryon was already full of love for this child, despite the fact he didn't sire him. Nevertheless, he couldn't wait to introduce the boy to his parents and sister.

During one of these visits, Y/n finally spotted distant sails floating toward the island, her heart leaping for joy as she got to her feet, proclaiming her brother's arrival. Laenor had laughed and urged her to take it easy and not exert herself. With the babe in one arm, he offered the other to Y/n, which she took and together they brought Jace down to the gardens where Y/n was to anxiously wait for her twin. Laenor handed Jace over to his birth mother once she had been seated and for extra measure, kissed the babe's forehead and wished Y/n luck before retreating. Y/n spent the time cooing softly to her infant as she waited, trying not to feed the urge to get up and meet her brother halfway up the stairs leading to the keep. She doesn't have to wait long before she heard someone enter the garden. When she quickly looked up, she found Ser Harwin Breakbones, the same man she remembered leaving behind in King's Landing. Only at the sight of him did she finally stand, babe in arms, and scrutiny on her tongue.

"You fool. You stupid, loyal fool."

Harwin laughs joyfully, "Hello to you, too, sweet sister."

"Shut up."

He rushes forward and brings Y/n into a hug, being as gentle as possible with the baby between them. Y/n melted into the embrace, taking the time to breathe in that familiar scent of home and family before the twins slowly pull away. Harwin beams down at the infant in his sister's arms, "I take it that this is what you were referring to when you mentioned an impossible task. I don't know about you, Y/n, but this looks as though you know how to make the impossible possible. He's a handsome one. What do you call him?"

Her smile is infectious as she lifts her son up higher for his uncle to see him, "We named him Jacaerys. Jace for short."

"Jace," Harwin removed his leather glove and gently placed his bare hand over the top of the boy's head, marveling at how it easily fit into his palm, "Strapping young lad."

"Yes... he already has a dragon."

"Are you fibbing?"

"No, I swear!" Her eyes sparkled in awe as she relayed the story to him, "The egg hatched in his crib a few nights ago. Until Jace is old enough to tame it, it will be under close watch."

The amazement and possibly terror lingers for a moment before Harwin's gaze softens to one of worry, "Y/n... tell me how you are."

She tilts her head, "How do you mean?"

"Are they treating you well? Are you cared for? You can tell me the truth. If they treat you poorly, just say the word and I'll bring you and the boy to Harrenhal. You'll never have to--"

"Harwin." Y/n laughs quietly under her breath, holding Jace in one arm while she takes a hand to gently pat Ser Breakbones' cheek, smiling fondly, "I love you, brother, but you truly are a fool. Even if I was treated unfairly, you cannot protect me from dragons, especially not at Harrenhal of all places. But I'm happy to inform you that that would never be the case. Daemon loves me, as does Rhaenyra. They could never harm me."

She sits down on a garden bench and invites her brother to follow, "How did they come about asking for your aid?"

"Originally, they didn't think I would need to take part in this web they intend to spin," Harwin explained, "Prince Daemon assured me that he would only send a letter if your child was born looking more like a Strong than a Targaryen."

Y/n nods automatically, "Daemon is playing his part well, pretending to be Jace's uncle... though he tries keeping his distance."

She had been staring sadly down at the bundle in her arms, drawing Harwin to a worrying conclusion, "Do you think your husband despises the fact Jace does not look Targaryen?"

"No. At least-- I don't think so." She shook her head, unsure, "I want to believe that he's slowly realizing just how hard this whole situation is going to be for us carrying Laenor and Rhaenyra's children. Once Jace and any siblings he might have start growing, Daemon and I will have to stop parenting them and start pretending to be their aunt and uncle. Knowing my husband, he's probably thinking that when that day comes, it will hurt less if he started keeping his distance now rather than later."

Harwin nods in acknowledgment, believing he understood what his sister meant, "Prince Daemon has always struggled with arranged marriages--"

"I may have been an arranged wife to him at the beginning, Harwin, but that is no longer the case." She reminds him, "As I said, Daemon and Rhaenyra grew to love me and I grew to love them in return. That's likely when Daemon realized that this arrangement was going to be hard, knowing he couldn't openly love our children when they get older."

"I understand." He decides to change the subject, leaning over to gently stroke Jace's little face with a single finger, "What is to be done with the King?"

A different kind of shadow falls over Y/n's face, "Rhaenyra and Laenor will fly to King's Landing with Jace and his hatchling."

Harwin peered up, eyebrows raised, "And you agreed to this?"

"My son is a Targaryen, no matter who he was born to. The King's own mother would fly on her dragon's back when both of her sons were infants. While they're gone, Daemon suggests I try flying with him."

"Y/n..."

"I am Daemon's wife. I've never heard of a dragon harming his rider's wife."

"Still, I have seen you grow ill from tall heights and unsteady ground."

Y/n scoffs when she catches the mockery in his voice, nudging him with her elbow, "You embarrass me, brother... Daemon and Rhaenyra call me the Mother of Dragons. I should probably learn to fly with my children someday, don't you think?"

~~~~~~~~~

Harwin stayed in Dragonstone for a full moon cycle before planning his return to King's Landing per his father's summons. With the Hand's request also came the King's, begging his daughter to bring her son to him as soon as possible. Rhaenyra had prolonged this enough and announced it was time for her and Laenor to present the babe to the King's court. They would wait until Ser Harwin had returned to King's Landing, then they would follow on dragonback. The morning came for the heir of Harrenhal to disembark once again, and so Y/n stood on the docks of Dragonstone with her son in her arms in order to watch him leave.

Harwin smiled while placing his hand on Jace's head once more, "It won't be such a tiresome journey knowing that I'll be seeing you again in the capital soon. You behave for your mother in the meantime."

The strong knight then leaned over and kissed the top of Y/n's head, "As for you. Promise you'll write to me. As much as you can."

"Until my wrist falls off," she promised, "Give Father and Larys my love. Tell them I miss them."

"I will. Until next time, Mother of Dragons."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Kofi account here. Please support if you can!

Next chapter will have time skips. As I said, I will be taking a break from this series after all the frustration I went through just to post it. Please support my kofi and other fics. If you want to check out other fics that are not Game of Thrones related, my ao3 is Po_ta_toes, thank you!

Enjoy an edit I made of our favorite OT3!

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