#Plentiful Apple Harvest

[thefigureresource]

Holo : Plentiful Apple Harvest ver [Spice and Wolf] 1/7 scale from Kadokawa will be re-released March 2024.

#Holo #Plentiful Apple Harvest #Spice and Wolf #1/7 scale #Kadokawa #Re-Release #KDcolle #Chara-Ani #Ookami to Koushinryou #Food #Kemonomimi #Anime Figures

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Lumberjack

König invites you to visit his hometown with him. There is a festival held there every year in celebration of the harvest. You go along thinking it will be like the fairs you went to growing up. Instead, it is a lumberjack festival with all things axes, chainsaws, and big burly men. König forgoes his mask for once in public. He fits in so well with the competitors that nobody stares at him, even with the scarring on his exposed skin.

There are plenty of familiar things here for you to enjoy, like candy floss, donuts, and caramel apples. You have a bit of a sweet tooth, after all. There are also unique things like dumplings in every flavor and spätzle and a dish you can't pronounce, but it seems like a cross between pancakes and a Dutch baby all chopped up. König has to fight to get a bite of that one from your plate.

He picks a front row seat to watch a showcase. You feel for the people behind him as he will absolutely be blocking their view. Right before the show is supposed to start, he excuses himself, leaving you baffled as he hurries away. When the emcee calls out König's public persona name, your jaw drops. He walks out from behind the backdrop shirtless with a large splitting maul in his hands, rolling and tossing it theatrically. Your eyes drag over his torso, taking in the purple and white scars and the way his abs flex as he stretches. You realize his finger is gesturing you to look up. Meeting his eyes, he has the most confident smirk on his face, making you blush.

He begins moving. He tosses the maul around like it is a toy, swinging it to split rounds of firewood in precise strikes. The spins he uses to build momentum make him look like he is dancing. His speed builds. Striking each one faster, he begins adding tricks, knocking one down with the back of the maul only to hit it in the air and split it perfectly against the ground and splitting large stacks all at once. Watching him in action is breathtaking. For most, it looks like this is the culmination of his hard work, but you know that this is simply practice for his real work.

His real work. The work where he uses a sledgehammer against human flesh on the battlefield. You can honestly say you've never been more turned on watching a man work and when he finishes, you beg him to find a quiet corner so you can show him your appreciation with your own private show. You tease him, saying that he will enjoy the clapping much more this time around.

#konig x reader #könig x reader #cod smut #konig cod #lumberjack

[thejoyofseax]

Why We Can't Have Medieval Food

I noted in a previous post that I'd "expand on my thinking on efforts to reproduce period food and how we’re just never going to know if we have it right or not." Well, now I have 2am sleep?-never-heard-of-it insomnia, so let's go.

At the fundamental level, this is the idea that you can't step in the same river twice. You can put your foot down at the same point in space, and it'll go into water, but that's different water, and the bed of the river has inevitably changed, even a little, from the last time you did so.

Our ingredients have changed. This is not just because we can't get the fat from fat-tailed sheep in Ireland, or silphium at all anywhere, although both of those are true. But the aubergine you buy today is markedly different to the aubergine that was available even 40 years ago. You no longer need to salt aubergine slices and draw out the bitter fluids, which was necessary for pretty much all of the thing's existence before (except in those cultures that liked the bitter taste). The bitterness has been bred out of them. And the old bitter aubergine is gone. Possibly there are a few plants of it preserved in some archive garden, or a seed bank, or something, but I can't get to those.

We don't really have a good idea of the plant called worts in medieval English recipes. I mean, we know (or we're fairly sure) it was brassica oleracea. But that one species has cultivars as distinct as cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, kale, Brussels sprouts, collard greens, Savoy cabbage, kohlrabi, and gai lan (list swiped from Wikipedia). And even within "cabbage" or "kale", you have literally dozens of varieties. If you plant the seeds from a brassica, unless you've been moderately careful with pollination, you won't get the same plant as the seeds are from. You can crossbreed brassicas just by planting them near each other and letting them flower. And of course there is no way to determine what varietal any medieval village had, a very high likelihood that it was different to the village next door, and an exceedingly high chance that that varietal no longer exists. Further, it only ever existed for a few tens of years - before it went on cross-breeding into something different. So our access to medieval worts (or indeed, cabbage, kale, etc) is just non-existant.

Some other species within the brassica genus are as varied. Brassica rapa includes oilseed rape, field mustard, turnip, Chinese cabbage, and pak choi.

We have an off-chance, as it happens, of getting almost the same kind of apple as some medieval varieties, because apples can only be reproduced for orchard use by grafting, which is essentially cloning. Identification through paintings, DNA analysis, and archaeobotany sometimes let us pin down exactly which apple was there. But the conditions under which we grow those apples are probably not the same as the medieval orchard. Were they thinned? When were they harvested? How were they stored? And apples are pretty much the best case.

Medieval wheat was practically a different plant. It was far pickier about where it would grow, and frequently produced 2-4 grains per stalk. A really good year had 6-8. In modern conditions, any wheat variety with less than 30 grains per stalk would be considered a flop.

Meats are worse. Selective breeding in the last century has absolutely and completely changed every single species of livestock, and if you follow that back another five centuries, some of them would be almost unrecognisable. Even our heritage breeds are mostly only about 200 years old.

Cheese, well. Cheese is dependent on very specific bacteria, and there are plenty of conditions where the resulting cheese is different depending on whether it was stored at the back or front of the cave. Yogurts, quarks, skyrs, etc, are also live cultures, and almost certainly vary massively. (I have a theory about British cheese here, too, which I'll expand on in a future post)

So, even before you go near the different cooking conditions (wood, burnables like camel and cow dung, smoke, the material and condition of cooking pots), we just can't say with any reliability that the food we're making now is anything like medieval people produced from the same recipe. We can't even say that with much reliability over a century.

Under very controlled conditions, you could make an argument for very specific dishes. If you track down a wild mountain sheep in Afghanistan, and use water from a local spring, and salt from some local salt mine, then you can make a case that you can produce something fairly close to the original ma wa milh, the water-and-salt stew that forms the most basic dish in Arabic cookery. But once you start introducing domestic livestock, vegetables, or even water from newer wells, you're now adrift.

It is possible that some dishes taste exactly the same, by coincidence. But we can't determine that. We can't compare the taste of a dish from five years ago, let alone five hundred, because we're only just getting to a state where we can "record" a taste accurately. Otherwise it's memory and chance.

We've got to be at peace with this. We can put in the best efforts we can, and produce things that are, in spirit, like the medieval dishes we're reading about. But that's as good as it gets.

#medieval cookery #medieval cooking #food history #historical cookery #historical cuisine #medieval arabic cookery #horticulture #genetics

[greenwitchcrafts]

September 2023 witch guide

September 2023 witch guide

Full moon: September 29th

New moon: September 14th

Sabbats: Mabon September 23rd

September Harvest Moon

Also known as: Autumn moon, falling leaves moon, song moon, leaves turning moon, moon of brown leaves, yellow leaf moon, wine moon & Full corn moon

Element: Earth

Zodiac: Virgon& Libra

Animal spirits: Trooping Faeries

Deities: Brigid, Ceres, Ch'ang-o, Demeter, Freya, Isis & Vesta

Animals: Jackal & snake

Birds: Ibis & sparrow

Trees: Bay, hawthorn, hazel & larch

Herbs/plants: Copal, fennel, rye, skullcap, valerian, wheat & witch hazel

Flowers: Lily & Narcissus

Scents: Bergamot, gardenia, mastic & storax

Stones: Bloodstone, chrysolite, citrine, olivine, peridot & sapphire

Colors: Browns, dark blue, greens & yellows ( Earth tones)

Energy: Balance of light & dark, dietary matters, employment, health, intellectual pursuits, prosperity, psychism, rest, spirituality, success & work environments. Also cleaning & straightening mentally, physically & spiritually.

Technically, the Harvest Moon is the Full Moon closest to the September equinox around September 21st. The Harvest Moon is the only Full Moon name determined by the equinox rather than a month. Most years, it’s in September, but around every three years, it falls in October.

In September, the Full Moon is the Corn Moon from the Native American tribes harvesting their corn. It can also be the Harvest Moon, which corresponds with the Anglo-Saxon name, while Celtic and Old English names are Wine Moon, Song Moon, and Barley Moon.

Mabon

Also known as: Autumn Equinox, Cornucopia, Witch's Thanksgiving & Alban Elved

Season: Fall

Symbols: Acorns, apples, autumn leaves, berries, corn, cornucopia (horn of plenty), dried seeds, gourds, grains, grapes, ivy, pine cones, pomegranates, vines, wheat, white roses & wine

Colors: Blue brown, drk red, deep gold, gold, indigo, lead green, maroon, orange, red, russet, violet & yellow

Oils/incense: Apple, apple blossom, benzoin, black pepper, hay/straw, myrrh, passion flower, patchouli, pine, red poppy & sage

Animals: Dog, goose, hawk, swan, swallow & wolf

Stones: Agate, amethyst, carnelian, lapis lazuli, sapphire, yellow Agate  & yellow topaz

Foods: Apples, blackberries, blackberry wine, bread, carrots, cider, corn, cornbread, grapes, heather wine, nuts, onions, pomegranates, potatoes, squash, vegetables, wheat & winw

Herbs/plants: Acorn, benzoin, cedar, corn, cypress, ferns, grains, hazel, hops, ivy, myrrh, oak, pine, sage, sassafras, Salomon's seal, thistle, tobacco & wheat

Flowers: Aster, heather, honeysuckle, marigold, milkweed, mum,passion flower& rose

Goddesses: Danu, Epona, Modron, Morrigan, Muses, Pomona, Persephone, Sophia & Sura

Gods: Esus, Green Man, Hermes, Mabon, Mannanan, Toth & Thor

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Accomplishment, agriculture, balance, goals, gratitude & grounding

Spellworks: Balance, harmony, protection, prosperity, security & self confidence

Related festivals:

• Sukkot- is a Torah-commanded holiday celebrated for seven days, beginning on the 15th day of the month of Tishrei. It is one of the Three Pilgrimage Festivals (Hebrew: שלוש רגלים, shalosh regalim) on which those Israelites who could were commanded to make a pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem. In addition to its harvest roots, the holiday also holds spiritual importance with regard to its abandonment of materialism to focus on nationhood, spirituality, and hospitality, this principle underlying the construction of a temporary, almost nomadic, structure of a sukkah.

• Mid-Autumn festival- also known as the Moon Festival or Mooncake Festival, is a traditional festival celebrated in Chinese culture. Similar holidays are celebrated by other cultures in East & Southeast Asia. It is one of the most important holidays in Chinese culture; its popularity is on par with that of Chinese New Year. The history of the Mid-Autumn Festival dates back over 3,000 years. The festival is held on the 15th day of the 8th month of the Chinese lunisolar lunisolar calendar with a full moon at night, corresponding to mid-September to early October of the Gregorian calendar. On this day, the Chinese believe that the Moon is at its brightest and fullest size, coinciding with harvest time in the middle of Autumn.

• Thanksgiving- This is a secular holiday which is similar to the cell of Mabon; A day to give thanks for the food & blessings of the previous year. The American Thanksgiving is the last Thursday of November while the Canadian Thanksgiving is celebrated in October

• Festival of Dionysus- There were several festivals that honored Dionysus, the God of wine. It was a time of fun, games, feasting & drinking wine.

Activities:

•Scatter offerings in a harvested fields, Offer libations to trees

• Decorate your home and/or altar space for fall

• Bake bread

• Perform a ritual to restore balance and harmony to your life

• Cleanse your home of negative energies

• Pick apples

• Have a dinner or feast with your family and/or friends

• Set intentions for the upcoming year

• Purge what is no longer serving you

•Take a walk in the woods

• Enjoy a pumpkin spice latte

• Donate to your local food bank

• Gather dried herbs, plants, seeds & pods

• Learn something new

• Make wine

• Brew an apple cinnamon simmer pot

• Create an outdoor Mabon altar

•Adorn burial sites with leaves, acorns, & pinecones to honor those who have passed over & visit their graves

Many cultures see the second harvest (after the first harvest Lammas) and equinox as a time for giving thanks. This time of year is when farmers know how well their summer crops did, and how well fed their animals have become. This determines whether you and your family would have enough food for the winter. That is why people used to give thanks around this time, thanks for their crops, and animals, and food. 

The name Mabon comes from the Welsh God, who was the son of the Earth Mother Goddess. However, there is evidence that the name was adopted in the 1970s, and the holiday was not originally a Celtic celebration.

Some believe Night and day are of equal legth and the God's energy & strength are nearly gone . The Goddess begins to mourn the loss she knows is coming, but knows he will return when he reborn at Yule.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Wikipedia

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Mabon: Rituals, Recipes & Lore for the Autumn Equinox Llewellyn's Sabbat Essentials

#witchcraft #wheel of the year #sabbat #mabon #Corn moon #Harvest moon #witchblr #wiccablr #paganblr #pagan #Wicca #grimoire #spellbook #book of shadows #witches of tumblr #tumblr witch #moon magic #witch tips #witch guide #traditional witchcraft #witch community #witch society #witchy things #witches #witch friends #greenwitchcrafts #All witches #correspondence #witchyvibes #witchcore

[breelandwalker]

Harvest Moon - September 28, 2023

The summer heat might be hanging on, but it's time to get excited for autumn shenanigans all the same. Grab your canning supplies and your favorite cider mug - it's time for the Harvest Moon!

Harvest Moon

The Harvest Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs closest to the autumnal equinox. It does not matter whether the moon occurs before or after the equinox or in which month it falls. In some years, this means the Harvest Moon may occur in October, in which cause the September moon might go by the name of Corn Moon or Rice Moon, depending on where you are.

In 2023, the Harvest Moon falls once more in the month of September. The same will happen in 2024, when the Harvest Moon will also be a supermoon! However, in 2025, the September moon will come early in the month, making it a Corn Moon. The Harvest Moon that year will be in early October.

The September moon is particularly beloved by farmers in the Northern Hemisphere, as it rises earlier and shines brighter than other full moons due to the relative angle of the Earth in relation to the moon during the equinox, which is helpful for lighting up the tail end of those long work days. In addition, the Harvest Moon may also appear full for multiple nights, providing additional illumination for labor or evening strolls. As such, while the peak of the Harvest Moon will occur in the wee hours of September 29th, it will appear to be full on both the 28th and 29th.

Other North American Indigenous names for the September moon include a number of variations of the aforementioned Corn Moon (used by numerous nations), such as Corn Maker Moon (Abenaki), Corn Harvest Moon (Dakota), and Corn Is Harvested Moon (Zuni). Other names refer to seasonal changes or animal behavior, such as Autumn Moon (Cree), Falling Leaves Moon (Ojibwe), Leaves Turning Moon (Anishinaabe), and Rutting Moon (Cree). Some European and modern pagan names for the September moon include Barley Moon (Old English), Singing Moon (Celtic), and Fruit Moon (general).

It's also worth noting that our Jewish friends and neighbors will be celebrating Rosh Hashanah this month, so remember to share your apples and honey and wish them Shanah Tovah (Happy New Year)!

What Does It Mean For Witches?

As autumn begins, we continue to reap what we've sown over the course of the year. It's a time to pause and reflect on what we've accomplished, let go of any unnecessary burdens we're still carrying, and focus on taking care of hearth and home for the cold months ahead. Now is a good time to do one last clutter purge or finish those repairs you've been putting off all summer!

Change is in the air as well, and transformations begun earlier in the year will burst into vibrant life. Just as the flowers bloom in spring, the leaves turn in the fall, and those of us who come alive in the autumn will start to fell that zing coming back.

Community also comes back into focus during harvest time, both because of the sharing of resources and the accompanying start of the school year. Take a moment to reinforce positive and supportive connections with friends and neighbors, or reach out to your local or online circle to strengthen existing bonds.

This a time of great abundance, so if you've been meaning to draw any kind of increase into your life, take steps to do so now. Harness that Harvest Moon energy to help carry you through the lean times in comfort and plenty.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

This is the time for feasting, bonfires, and outdoor gatherings. September and October will give us a few more warm weeks before the weather turns cold and rainy, so make the most of it! Have a potluck supper with a menu made of everyone's favorite seasonal recipes. Visit a local farmer's market and bring home that fresh seasonal produce. Thank the earth for the bounty it provides and renew your promise to be a good steward of the land where you live.

Technically, this is the second "harvest" moon of the year, since the harvest of most seasonal crops began back in August with wheat and corn and late summer fruits. The harvest of corn and grain continues into September and is joined by additional late-season fruits and vegetables, the most iconic of which is the annual apple crop.

Apple-picking is easily my favorite autumn activity and it's fantastic way to get outdoors, get some fresh air, and come home with tasty produce for uses both mundane and magical. From cider to applesauce to pies, apples are delightfully versatile. They also feature in a number of folk traditions and party games which double as divination rituals.

Continue your preparations for winter by canning or preserving fresh foods, hanging harvested herbs and flowers to dry, or refreshing your stocks of moon water and magical oils. Make your own magical brews using a stock pot as a cauldron and soups, stews, punch, cider, and mulled wine as your potions. Kitchen witches, your time is NOW!

Wear the colors of the season boldly and revel in all the gifts you've received and joys you've experienced so far this year. If you've been particularly blessed, pay it forward to share the bounty with others. Reflect on everything you've accomplished, celebrate your progress, and maybe set one or two small goals for the end of the year.

And since the decorations are already appearing in stores, start stocking up for Halloween!

Happy Harvest Moon, witches! 😊🍎

Further Reading:

Additional Lunar Calendar posts

Secular Celebrations - Autumn Equinox

Harvest Moon, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

What Is The Harvest Moon?, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Harvest Moon 2023: The Spiritual Meaning of September's Full Moon, The Peculiar Brunette.

Full Moon 2025 Calendar, Full Moonology.

Rosh Hashanah, Wikipedia.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

#Harvest Moon #lunar magic #moon magic #lunar calendar #witchcraft #witchblr #witch tips #witch community #pagan #autumn

[aspens-apothecary]

Mabon Celebration Ideas!

As some of you know, this Saturday is Mabon, the celebration of the Autumn Equinox. Some also refer to it as the "Pagan Thanksgiving", as you celebrate the bountiful harvest and are thankful for the earth and its many gifts.

Mabon marks the time of equilibrium, where the days and nights are of equal length. During this time, it is good to set intentions that involve decrease, such as ending unhealthy habits, self-destructive behaviors, or bad relationships.

Decorating for Autumn

This a great time to decorate for the coming autumn and spooky seasons leading up to Samhain! I like to open the windows and then cleanse my space(usually a simmer pot and smoke cleanse) and after, i actually physically clean the house.I then close the windows and stir my simmer pot, while setting new intentions for the household until the spring equinox. I then collect the things I want to decorate with(the usual fall decor; pumpkins, pine cones, leaf garlands, gourds and an autumn wreath on the door) and then decorate to my hearts content!

Release and Move Forward

Another thing I usually spend time on is meditation, centering myself, letting go of past baggage from the year and setting new personal goals and intentions until spring.

Find a nice spot outside, where you feel connected to the world around you. Take a journal with you, and meditate. Write down what you want the next few months to bring into your life. Set those intentions in any way you choose.

Have a nice Hearty Meal

Who doesn't love a good meal with great people? You can make a roast, hold a potluck Mabon dinner ect, I usually host a bonfire night and everyone brings their own dishes to feel the group. During covid, I made a pot roast for my fiance and I! You could also do a picnic!

Fall Activities

Apple Picking, Corn Mazes, going to a Pumpkin Patch, all fall activities that are fun for the whole family, as a cute date, or great solo fun!

Honor Persephone and Demeter

If you are one to honor deities/spirits during the holidays, Persephone and Demeter are two that will definitely fall into Mabon.

According to the myth, Autumn is the time where Persephone must leave her beloved mother and travel to Hades, to fulfill her role as the Queen of the Underworld. Each year she lets go of the concerns of the upper world, and willingly descends to guide the souls of the dead over the threshold of Life and Death.

Creating an altar, and leaving offerings for them in honor of their sacrifice is an amazing way to celebrate.

Other

Other things you can do include cleansing ritual baths, Divination for the new few months, hiking, offerings for the local nature spirits, make a gratitude list for the last few months and thank the earth for her gifts

Mabon Symbols:

Cornucopia (horn of plenty), pinecones, seeds

Colors: Orange, red, yellow, brown, copper, dark yellow, dark green

Foods: Corn, beans, squash, apples, pumpkins, cider, root vegetables, pomegranate, wine

Herbs: Yarrow, rosemary, sage, mugwort, rosehips,

Stones: Amber, citrine, cat’s eye, aventurine, sapphire, jasper

Flowers: Sunflowers, thistle, marigolds

Deities: Mabon, Green Man, Demeter, Persephone, Morgan, Pomona, Inanna

Animals: Owl, stag, blackbird, salmon

I hope this gives you a few ideas! Add your own ideas to this list! These are just the ways I like to celebrate!

#pagan witch #witchblr #witchcore #witchcraft #beginner witch #witch tips #witchy vibes #mabon #mabon 2023 #autumn #autistic witch #autumn equinox #witchcraft spells #witchy #witchcraft supplies

[vincentwonhogh]

for long i struggled to create an archetype for each of the pevensie siblings and assign them all a season of the year. i think i can now safely say they remind me of transitions between the seasons.

susan is a crisp breeze and the last breathtakingly beautiful icicles of cruel winter that transition into sweet snowdrops and daffodils peeking through a soft blanket of sparkly frost. she is the bringer of new hope and beginnings, for she often needs plenty encouragement herself. narnia brought out the best of her abilities. she steps first into the forest after a seasonal hibernation and her arrow sets motion to the first violets, rabbits and songbirds to wake up.

lucy takes the blooming to a whole new level, all flora and fauna dance with her swaying hair and her singing floods the air in warmth and pollen. her soul attracts the sun's magic from all corners of narnia and into your body. she is as playful and inquisitive as a fawn, yet fierce enough for the whole herd. she breathes life into the old apple tree that is her throne, and wildflowers make her crown.

peter is the ruler of the sweet aftermath, the sap and honey dripping from harvested trees as he slices the ripe fruit with his sword in gleeful celebration. his presence in the room roars respect but puts others at ease with his easy-going nature that is so correspondent with the maturity of the sun and fine wine that can be collected at this time. good spirits are drawn to him in nights slowly creeping closer and he welcomes prosperity into the country, so that his people are ready for the harsher season to come.

edmund, most sensible of all, bears the burden of the night in his mind, and he owns up bravely to this role brought on by fate. it wasn't his fault. but he understands no one else could so wisely and calmly deal with the nightmares lurking by the shortest day of the year. he is quick with decisions and no amount of stress could ever distract him from keeping his closest ones safe and sound in the cruel talons of winter. the gloomy rainy days are spent quietly reflecting and enganing the mind and curiosity thanks to this dedicated protector.

#im trying gradient text for the first time </3 #the chronicles of narnia #narnia #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #pevensie children #narnia headcanons

[quillpokebiology]

Pokemon Variants: Pumpkin

(My favorite Applin line variant!) Pumpkin refers to an Applin who hid in a Pumpkin, and its evolutions ended up resembling one.

(Not Height accurate)

Applin

Applin that go into Pumpkins. Since Applin go into the first fruit or vegetable they find, these Applins eggs usually hatch in Pumpkin patches. They're often seen as pests since multiple usually hatch at a time and steal all the Pumpkins. To prevent this, many farmers have made decoy Pumpkin patches away from the main patches I'm hopes that Appletun or Flapple will decide to lay their eggs there instead. Pumpkin Applin are slower than usual but have higher defense.

Appletun

If their pumpkin has a sweet flavor (or they are given the special item, Pumpkin Sweet), they will evolve into the Pumpkin variant of Appletun. Pumpkin Appletun were bred to look like pumpkin pie, with the shedding on their back even being edible and tasting like pumpkin pie. They're often used for parties and are symbols of autumn. In old Galar, it was tradition to feed Pumpkin Appletun fruit and sweets for Samhain celebrations. They symbolize prosperity, abundance, and protection.

Flapple

My favorite member of the line. Gives me a mythical forest vibe for some reason. Anyways, Pumpkin Applin evolve into Pumpkin Flapple by choosing a sour pumpkin for protection or eating the Sour pumpkin sweet. While Pumpkin Appletun are seen as a symbol for Autumn, Pumpkin Flapple are symbols of autumn and death. They're also seen as protectors and helping ward away evil spirits. However, they're not loved by everyone, as farmers see them as the worst pests of the line for their quickness and determine to eat their crops.

Dipplin

Applin evolve into Pumpkin Dipplin when they come across a Juicy Pumpkin, which only grow in Kitakami. They appear the most in the fall, when Pumpkins almost become as plentiful as apples in the region, and they're highly praised there for being a symbol of a good harvest. They're Syrup becomes pumpkin guts, which is thicker and more damaging but less sticky. They're often slower due to their bigger height.

//My designs can be used by anyone if you credit me! If you want, you can request other Applin variants to draw since these were very fun, and it only took around 30 minutes each.

#pokemon variants #pokemon breeds #applin #appletun #flapple #pokedex #grass types #grass type pokemon #dragon types #dragon type pokemon #pokemon #pokemon irl #irl pokemon #pkmn irl #irl pkmn #pokeblog #pokeblogging #pokeblogging roleplay #pokeblog roleplay #rotomblr #pokeblr #rotumblr #pokemon roleplay #pokemon biologist #pokemon biology #my art

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Autumn with Foul Legacy HCs

Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Genre: Fluff Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Warnings: Mentions of rain, thunder, and lightning

~ * ~ -Welcome to autumn!! That lovely season between summer and winter that keeps everything on track and in balance -Liyue is more of a temperate region, so often you can’t tell that summer has ended until autumn is already half over -But oh boy, when the weather changes, it CHANGES -One day it’s sunny and mild, the next day it’s pouring rain, you and Foul Legacy staring out the window in disbelief -He then nudges your shoulder, glancing from you to the rain and back again with a pleading expression. With a sigh you allow him to pull you back into bed, snuggling up to you with a happy chirp -Taking the first rainy autumn day off from work becomes a tradition for the two of you -And when it’s not pouring, walks outside the city are an absolute must! Liyue is a sight to behold in autumn, with the leaves turning vibrant colors and slowly falling from their branches- you and Legacy happily crunch many, many leaves underfoot, relishing the crispy crackling sound they make -It’s also harvest season, so there’s plenty of apples and other fruit growing from the trees for you to snack on -SPEAKING OF APPLES, you and Foul Legacy could harvest some to make cider, he is very enthusiastic when helping you!! Occasionally an apple will fall and bonk him on the head, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing at the chagrined trill he lets out -Warm drinks aplenty, especially during cooler days. You make tea, hot cocoa, the aforementioned cider- but not coffee. Never coffee. Have you ever seen an Abyss monster on caffeine? Do not give Foul Legacy coffee -You’ll curl up with these warm drinks together, cuddled under a blanket as you watch storms and wind from the safety of your home. Sometimes there’s thunder and lightning, and Legacy quickly hides under the covers and presses himself up to you with a slight shiver, but he slowly begins to purrs when you run your fingers through his hair, tense muscles loosening -The colder season also means thicker clothes, which means comfy sweaters!! You take great joy in wrapping yourself in cozy coats and scarves -Unfortunately shops don’t make sweaters in Legacy’s size, which he is very sad about :( So you decide to make one for him! It’s a deep blue color, made with yarn that has little silver threads in it so it glints when the fabric moves -He absolutely adores it, chittering in delight and running his claws delicately over the soft cloth before very carefully putting it on. Now he’s warm and comfy and so much better to lean your head against :) He treats that sweater like it’s made of gold -The nights also get chilly, so there’s a 95% chance you’ll end up with a moth in your arms and vice versa. Abyss creatures get cold (and lonely) too! -If you’re out for a walk and a particularly biting wind comes by, he’ll bury his face in your neck or put his claws against your warm stomach- he never admits how much he likes the startled shriek you let out -Occasionally it will start drizzling during your walk and you have to run home, getting to witness Legacy shaking out his wings and hissing in displeasure, pouting until you smile and give him a tight hug of reassurance -Autumn is the season of cooking and baking, and Foul Legacy LOVES peeking over your shoulder to see what delicious treat you’re working on. He’ll even dare to sneak a taste here and there, letting out low, rumbling laughs when you catch him in the act -You also make jam together!! There’s plenty of fresh berries growing, so you’ll pick some and preserve it in jars for the winter (Foul Legacy likes strawberry rhubarb) and the whole house smells DELICIOUS -He’ll keep any pretty leaves he sees and give them to you as a gift :) And if you press and save them, he’ll be so incredibly happy

-Of course, not everything is sunshine and rainbows- a lot of rainstorms and thunder, honestly. Some days you have to sneak out of bed before Foul Legacy’s even awake, leaving only a gentle kiss on his forehead as you head to work while it’s still dark and raining -Those days are hard, having to file reports and attend meetings with your shoes soaking wet and sleep still in your eyes, because everyone at your job always wants something -But it’s alright, you can handle it, because you know that there’s someone waiting for you at home, someone curled up on the couch and looking at the window to try and catch sight of your figure walking back -And the moment you open that door, you’re scooped into his embrace, your Foul Legacy’s arms snaking around you and giving you a tender hug. You hug him back as your heart warms, the first smile of the day creeping onto your face when he carries you to his blanket nest for snuggles, so you can feel warm and toasty and happy again on this dreary autumn day

#genshin x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #foul legacy x reader #tartagalia x reader #sfw #genshin sfw #genshin fluff #fluff #genshin headcanons #wrote some cute autumnal headcanons to help me get back into the swing of writing #apologies for not writing for wayyy too long i've been kinda busy #i love autumn it's very comforting #it rains a lot where i live and autumn is kinda peak rain season so it's great #plus comfy sweaters and cool leaves #i'm a crow i'm attracted to bright and colorful things and so is foul legacy #by the way he'll be over the moon if you make a little scrapbook of all the leaves he gives you just saying

[broomsick]

A gratitude ritual to the elves

(For the autumn season!)

This is a ritual that I’ve created some two years ago, as a gesture of thanks and acknowledgement to the álfar as land spirits. It acts as the “closing ceremony” for the harvest season, so it could be fun for you to perform it on Samhain if you celebrate, or on your preferred date to perform the Álfablót. It’s made up of three major steps; the offering of drink, the offering of food and the burning of autumn symbols, all of which are separated by invocation and prayer. Without further ado, I will detail the ritual.

The first step? To bake/cook/prepare your offerings of food and drink. I think it’s important to incorporate local seasonal ingredients, as they come directly from the land you live on and therefore, can be considered gifts from the harvest Gods and spirits. Examples of seasonal drinks might be cider (apple juice also does the trick if you’re alcohol-free!), mead, mulled wine, spiced drinks and the like. Seasonal foods might be include apple, pumpkin, corn, squash, etc…

The final offering requires you to go and pick a few good, local symbols of autumn. These can be fallen leaves, helicopter seeds, fallen flowers… Basically anything that you know will burn well and which you won’t have to pluck directly from the tree or plant it comes from. If you grow herbs, fruits and/or veggies, it’s also possible to offer them up as well. I also write down on a piece of paper a few things I’m grateful to the álfar for.

Prepare a ritual bowl or cup in which to pour the offering of drink, a plate in which to place the food offerings, and a fireproof space in which to safely burn the autumn symbols (I use my cauldron).

Optional but fun: I line each plate up in the order drink-food-fire in an outside space and kneel before them to perform the ritual. I then light incense and anoint each plate with ritual rosemary oil, for purification and protection.

Invocation: “I call upon the spirits and guardians of my land. I call to me the people of Yngvi-Frej who dwell in Álfheimr. Come to me Hidden Ones, come and receive that which I humbly choose to give back, in thanks and as to show my gratitude.”

As you pour the offering of drink: “May you accept this libation, symbol of the water which flows under the earth and nourishes the soil. May you look with fondness upon me and those who dwell on your lands.”

As you offer the food: “May you accept this shared meal, symbol of the many gifts of the earth. May you bring forth favorable and plentiful seasons henceforth.”

As you burn the symbols of autumn: “Another harvest has passed, with your blessing and your protection. Noble elves who answer to the Vanir Son, I am grateful for the land that you share so generously with me and my loved ones. Please bless the soils to be bounteous for the coming year.”

I hope you all have a happy autumn season (or spring, if you live in the southern hemisphere!).

#heathenry #Álfablót #elves #norse paganism #witchcraft #yngvi freyr #spirituality #norse gods #polytheism #deity work #deities #alfar #álfar #land spirit #spirit work #ritual #rituals

[curseanon]

I’ve decided I’m just gonna be the sole crewmate on this battleship that is adam x eve, no issues here as im plenty used to serving in the armed forces in defense of rare ships. shipping something where we literally don’t even know what one of the people looks like tho is a whole new level-

anyway here’s some headcanons I thought of. special thanks to Abbie0129 on Twitter for her artwork that helped inspire some of these, if u ever see this post I love you

-the only thing adam and eve were able to take out of eden with them (besides clothes) was a set of flower crowns that they made for each other and basically acted like their wedding rings in the garden. the crowns were blessed by the angels to stay preserved and they allowed them to keep them. it’s the only thing they have left of Eden (king and queen of this little slice of paradise on earth ugh)

-Eve was sent to hell because Roo (or whatever this force of evil we saw depicted in the storybook with the big red eyes and creepy smile) influenced her into eating the fruit (hence the red smile. shoutout to another similar theory I saw on twitter that said Roo only made eve eat the fruit and then left her alone, before moving on later to target Lilith, hence the similar smile on that card. So Roo is different from Eve and Lilith but influenced them both). Maybe Roo’s influence was still on her when she died? Idk

-Abel though, I have an interesting thought. My current take is that if he’s in the show and not retconned, he went to hell because despite his efforts to please the angels, he was acting more out of self gratification, at least in secret. Seeking the angels’ approval more than actually trying to be a good person. That and I think he died with enmity in his heart towards Cain (fair enough). But he wasn’t willing to forgive Cain’s actions, while he was dying or after his death. If he can’t do that, how can he expect his own sins to be forgiven? Granted this is more based on the Christian view of sin. Abel’s heart was not light as a feather, and he died hating his own brother, bitter, and unforgiving. Again, I do not expect this level of depth from Vivzie but that’s just my take lmao

-So that leaves Adam showing up in Heaven alone. Cain is probably still wandering the Earth tbh, but im open to him being more of a spirit now who can pass between earth and Hell. But Adam being alone becomes very damaging. After all, it is not good for man to be alone. He just chalks it all up to Lucifer and Lilith’s deception with the apple that created Hell, blaming them for all the evil that has happened on Earth and the loss of his family.

-When Adam comes back as a sinner in Hell, he eventually reunites with Eve (and Abel. And maybe Cain). They work through all the shit they’ve been through and decide to try again being a family. They harvest angelic metal from the weapons and have them fashioned into rings. Eve wears hers normally and Adam wears his on a necklace. They have matching inscriptions on the inside, where one says “flesh of my flesh” and the other “bone of my bone.” If u saw my other post mentioning this, you’re welcome ❤️

-Eventually they get redeemed and Sera welcomes them back with a little gift: the flower crowns from Eden🥰

#hazbin hotel #adam x eve #eve hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel eve #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin headcanons

[familyvideostevie]

october eleventh

day eleven: eddie munson you and eddie go to the harvest festival | fluff and first date vibes! | 1k

Eddie Munson asks you to the harvest festival and you panic a little bit. But you say yes, of course. Why wouldn’t you?

He’s kind of a friend through Robin and if she likes him you know he’s a good guy. You like how he laughs and how he never seems to take things too seriously but he still cares about his friends. You like his ripped jeans and his chain and his metal wardrobe even if it’s not what you wear or listen to. You think he’s funny and he tells you how pretty you look and he seemed just a little nervous to ask you which made him even more endearing.

It’s silly that anyone thinks he’s anything other than wonderful.

Plus, you’ve never actually been to the harvest festival even though you love fall. So, you’re double excited.

With your work schedule and Eddie’s commitments it makes sense for you to meet there. His van is a bit of a hazard so you’re perfectly okay driving yourself there, even if you had a dream last night about making out in his backseat.

You get there a few minutes later than you’d hoped and spot Eddie at the entrance in a heated discussion with a high schooler you know to be Dustin Henderson. The latter is gesturing wildly and Eddie looks like he’s going to tear his hair out. You call his name and he turns, grinning once he spots you.

He shoves Dustin’s hat further down on his head and the kid laughs and heads into the festival, flipping Eddie the middle finger. Eddie shakes his head but turns towards you and meets you halfway.

“Hi,” he says, breathless.

“Hello,” you say. “Did I catch you bullying a child?”

“He deserves it.” Eddie grins, gaze traveling from your head to your toes and back again. “You look nice.”

You look at your own outfit and smile because you agree. “Thank you,” you say. “So do you.”

He’s wearing his usual getup but it almost looks like he brushed his hair and is that…cologne? A little strong but that’s okay.

“Wanna do this thing?” he asks, holding out a ring-clad hand.

“Sure do.” Your joined hands hang between you as he pulls leads you under the arch and onto the grounds.

“Thanks for coming,” he says, squeezing your hand. One of the things you like about Eddie is his confidence but also his seemingly random bouts of nerves. It makes your stomach swoop in the best way to know that you’re one of the things that makes him nervous.

“Thanks for asking me,” you say. You decide to throw him a bone “I’ve been wanting to go on a date with you for ages.”

“Really?” He turns to look at you and looks genuinely surprised. “Could’ve asked me!”

You laugh and knock your shoulders together. “That would be too easy, Munson.”

The festival is like a country fair but a little smaller. There are vegetable and animal judging contests, a pie eating competition, and plenty of games. Pumpkin carving tables dot the fair grounds and booths from local farms sell honey and candles and produce. Ring toss and a wack-a-mole game have long lines, people of all ages and plenty of couples excited to give everything a try.

“What do you want to do?” he asks you. The wind whips down the path and you press a little closer to him.

“There are so many things,” you say, slightly overwhelmed. “We have to get cider doughnuts, right?” He nods. “And maybe a game?”

“Absolutely. We have to crush some kids.”

“And…” You look around before spotting something that makes you yelp with excitement. “Is that bobbing for apples?”

There are three huge barrels of water and they are full of apples. There is a round going on and you drag Eddie over.

“You want to do this?” he asks. You beam at him.

“Hell yeah I do. I was great at this when I was a kid.” You read the board at the sign-up table and gasp. “The prize for the most is 50 dollars!”

“Hell of a prize,” he says, impressed.

“I’m gonna do it,” you say. Eddie laughs. “Atta girl,” he says. You make sure all of your hair is out of the way and Eddie takes your bag and jacket so you don’t get water on them. A lady ushers you to one side of one of the barrels and you look around at the competition. Mostly all high schoolers, and one guy with a huge beard.

“Kill ‘em dead, sweetheart!” Eddie shouts from behind you.

The horn goes off and the music starts and you bob like your life depends on it. It occurs to you halfway through that this probably isn’t a cute thing to do on your first date but you want to win. If you do, you’ll buy Eddie some funnel cake for being a good sport about it. Are you a little too competitive for a small-town harvest festival? Maybe, but whatever.

You hear Eddie chanting your name behind you and you bob and bob and bob and you know you’re all wet but you don’t stop. The music finally cuts out and you stand, water dripping down your chin and into your collar. You wipe your eyes and find Eddie grinning and waiting behind you.

“You crushed it!” he whoops.

“Really?” Your pile of apples is pretty big, truth be told.

“Yeah,” he says, before stepping forward and resting a hand on your hip. You can see some light freckles on his nose this close. “And it was hot.”

That makes your stomach do something funny. Maybe Eddie Munson makes you a little nervous. The good kind,

He leans in like he’s going to kiss you but you put your hand on his chest.

“Eddie, my face is all wet.”

His expression says he very much does not care about that but he leans away to grab a towel anyway. He gently dries your cheeks, your forehead, your chin. Your hairline is a little damp but you don’t care much. You’ll have to come back at the end of the festival to see if you got the most apples but right now you’re focused on how Eddie is tossing the towel over his shoulder and leaning back in and —

You laugh against his lips and wrap your arms around his neck as he kisses you.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff

[alwritey-aphrodite]

I’m so excited for fall prompts!! Please do Jamie tart with prompt 31. Fall farmer market?

2023 Fall Blurbs

Spending a morning with Jamie is a rare luxury, despite the fact that you’ve lived together for months. During the week, he’s up and out of the door for training with Roy before the sun even thinks about rising, and most Saturdays he needs to get ready for the match of the week, regardless of if it’s home or away. Sundays, though, are always your mornings.

It’s the one day that Jamie takes a break from all his extra training, and if he ever has a match, it’s later in the afternoon, giving you plenty of time to spend together. Most mornings, you simply take advantage of waking up next to each other, spending hours wrapped in each other’s arms and talking about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes, though, you’ll get dressed and head out to a cafe or a little restaurant for a nice breakfast that neither of you have to cook.

On one of these trips to your favorite cafe, you stumble upon a fall farmer’s market, booths set up and spread out all along the Richmond Green. Without even thinking, Jamie changes course and heads towards the stalls, knowing how much you miss all the summer markets once the weather cools off.

There’s plenty of fresh produce still, berries left over from the summer harvests and apples and pears and more vegetables than you could count. You pick up plenty, knowing how intense Jamie takes his training and knowing how much he loves fresh fruit. Looking up after paying and thanking the stall worker, you realize that Jamie’s wandered off to a tent farther ahead, and you hurry to meet up with him.

“I got these for you,” you both say in unison, your hands full of fresh fruit and vegetables while Jamie holds out a bouquet of orange and yellow flowers. You grin as Jamie eagerly hands you the flowers and takes the bag of produce, glancing inside before pressing a kiss to your cheek in thanks.

The two of you wander the rest of the market hand in hand, stopping at whatever stalls catch your eye, with Jamie buying you anything you even mention liking offhand. You find a booth selling coffee and pastries, deciding to get your Sunday breakfast there instead of continuing on your original plan to your usual coffee shop and heading home with your haul of produce and flowers and fresh bread and pastries.

All in all, it was a perfect morning that bleeds into a perfect afternoon, spending it cuddled on the couch with Jamie while indulging in your favorite seasonal treats as a movie plays. You love and appreciate everything Jamie does for you, the extravagant dates and expensive gifts and fancy dinners, but you think days like this are just as good or even better.

Getting to spend time with Jamie, getting to cuddle with him and wear his hoodies and treat him to something he loves makes Sunday the best day of the week and makes days like today the memories that you cherish the most while you’re apart and waking up to a cold bed. For now, though, you’re cuddled together under a warm blanket and everything’s perfect.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fluff

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Nineteen

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I felt this story severely lacks dragon content. I want to make up for that. I hope you enjoy the little spice I've sprinkled in there toward the end. ;) Thank you so much for your support!!

Chapter Warnings: Implied cannibalism, dubcon.

Translation Guide: Zaldrītsos ipradagon: little dragon eater. Pālēs: turn. Kelītīs: halt. Lykirī: calm. Dohaerās: serve. (I tried my best to use proper grammar. Please don't call the High Valryian police.)

"Father, don't blame us for trying to live, for trying to love, for wanting more? Why did you dress our pleasure up as greed? While you're limiting our love, taking sunlight from the seed? Why did you give us hearts we don't understand, like an apple in our hand that you'll never let us have?" - AURORA, The Devil is Human.

It was midday before you decided to venture from your cotton sheets, letting you and the servants rest as much as possible before ringing the bell that signaled them to your room. Your ladies did not commence the morning ritual you had come to despise. They, too, must have also participated in a celebration last night and were nursing the same headache as you.

You stretched and yawned as you basked in the yellow afternoon sun that peeked through the emerald curtains, relaxing your achy muscles. The balcony appeared relatively comfortable in the daylight, and you decided to venture out, sitting on a cushioned bench. A cold breeze passed through King's Landing, picking up the withered plants across the ground and billowing your night dress around your bare ankles.

Winter was only weeks away. The once viridian foliage was now barren, revealing the wooden bones of each plant. The grass was a burnt orange from the lack of nutrients the soil provided, and no more earthy-smelling flowers were sprouting within the cracks of the flagstones. Death and decay surrounded you, bringing comfort despite how desolate everything appeared.

You hoped that snow would fall in the coming months. It would be the closest thing to home again.

You could reminisce fondly about your first wintertide at Dragonstone, the thick flurry of snowflakes blanketing the sandy beaches and rocks that covered the island, but never upon the castle itself. You remembered staring out of one of the many black stone towers and observing the steam rising from a carved basilisk as the slush melted. It was as if the haunting creature had the heat of a living being. It disturbed you immensely, plaguing you with endless nightmares alone in your apartments.

For the small folk, winter in King's Landing was always strife. Sickness and starvation were rampant throughout Flea Bottom that time of year, inflicting everyone no matter how plentiful the harvest was. It agonized you to no end each season you spent at Dragonstone, your stomach in knots if Madam or the other residents had enough to eat and if they managed to survive whatever illness spread.

The wintertime of your sixth year was the most gruesome. The growing season was met with drought, and when it came time to harvest, the merchant carts were bare. Ma tried to conceal the difficulty that year brought by distracting you with oral lessons in history and math, but no matter how much a parent attempted to protect their child, it was never enough.

You remembered the taste of the stale loaf of bread the whores shared throughout the week, the texture of jerky meat, and the ache it gave your jaw when chewing.

The atrocities you witnessed your fellow neighbors commit left you feeling hollow, memories of people burying the emaciated bodies of their kin only to dig them up. You were uncertain why they would do such a thing at the time. It was a sin against the Seven to desecrate the bodies of the deceased, and you had questioned Ma why they would do it. She hadn't given you an answer then, but you didn't need one. You already knew. Even in your youth, you could comprehend the atrocities of man.

Though you were a Targaryen, the hot blood of the dragon coursing through your veins, you preferred the colder weather.

Perhaps the reason was because of the Northern blood within you. It was rumored that your mother came from the area, but exactly where you were unconfident. The only other person who could attest to your mother's lineage besides herself was dead, swept from this mortal realm by the Hand and the Stranger, their head on a spike left to rot until forgotten. But you would remember. You would never forget nor forgive.

You thought back to the feast and how scores of meals were brought out and left over by the end. The scraps alone were enough to feed the entirety of the slums and still have more than enough to satiate all the guests. You hadn't felt remorseful at the time as you indulged yourself in a slice of ham, but in the light of day, the unawareness of your actions caused a profound contempt to grow. Gazing over the hundreds of cottages in various architectural states made you realize how disconnected you became from your roots.

Living a life of luxury made you into what you despised as a child—an out-of-touch, uppity, supercilious highborn.

You and the court members had more in common than you admitted, which was disgusting in and of itself. A sickening feeling of self-hatred permeated in your gut, causing you to retreat into the comfort of your space.

You needed to change. You needed to use your position of power to help the people of King's Landing.

You hadn't realized you were pacing until your ladies entered your room, a silver tray of tea and fruits in Dyana's hands. Fiora gave a charming grin in greeting as Jeyne went straight to your wardrobe, a storm of crimson skirts.

"Good morn Princess," the littlest maid said, placing your food on a table.

You smiled in admission, but it did not reach your eyes, putting your thumb between your teeth and pulling a piece of dead skin. Fiora and Dyana changed your sheets, replacing the breathable cotton with thicker wool as you broke your fast. The red cherries stained the tips of your fingers, mixing with the blood from your torn cuticles, the juice burning the open skin. You didn't wince at the pain, continuing to eat as your mind conjured up different ideas for the future.

From this moment on, you promised yourself never to stop. Never douse the flames of your drive to do what needs to be done. You would burn any lord, lady, prince, king, or queen who stood in your way.

***

The day continued without a hitch. Most of the guests from last night were still asleep or had already left for their homes while you were resting.

It was pleasant to walk the halls without having to create a polite conversation with people who would turn in the same breath and spread vicious rumors of your brother's parentage and spit vile insults that always referenced your birth. As twisted as it was, you hoped that one day you would hear something more interesting than the word "bastard." But it might be too much to ask the people at court to use their minds for something besides counting how many coins they reaped from their land.

Truthfully, you didn't have much to do. There were no Council meetings after events like these; everyone was still recovering from the night of debauchery, even the men who helped run the kingdom. It left you with nothing to do except plot and scheme and live within the torture of your mind.

You made your servants dress you in your favorite winter riding clothes to mark the season's coming. A magnificent statement piece that Rhaenyra commissioned for you as a Winter Solstice present.

The short, long-sleeved dress bathed your frame in flowing blood-red velvet trimmed with black braiding and lace with a high collar secured at the neckline to protect you from freezing temperatures. A dramatic steel pin of a three-headed dragon kept the heavy material together on your shoulders. A collection of practical and fashionable buttons were sewn onto the fabric to cover your torso, stopping at your hips to give you a range of motion and the allusion of a full gown to hide the trousers underneath.

You decided to take advantage of the rare break to see your dragon. You felt terrible for neglecting Cannibal the past week, leaving him to explore the skies of King's Landing in his solitude. He was accustomed to a life of isolation. Most of his fellow species were terrified of him and left the black dragon alone for a good reason.

In the beginning, Cannibal did not take well to being kept in the part of Dragonmont where the other creatures were, thrashing in the Keepers' hold like an unbroken stallion and breaking the chains that bound him multiple times.

Daemon had commanded you to beat submission into Cannibal more than once, giving you a long whip to have him obey your commands. You were hesitant and felt your heart shatter as the leather cracked his scales, but after much arguing, your father convinced you that it was the only way. Beasts like the Cannibal did not listen to any other language.

You had snuck out of the castle the evening it happened, leading the ferocious animal out of the caves and letting him fly to his home on the eastern side. There was a silent understanding between rider and dragon that night as you stared into his menacing green eyes.

Cannibal felt your sorrow for hurting him, realizing that you were just as afraid in your ways, lashing out whenever threatened and angry at the world for things you could not control. That night he lowered himself willingly to let you ride, taking you over the islands of Driftmark, Sharp Point, and Claw Isle. He did not speed through the midnight skies but soared high and low, letting his pointed wings slice the salty waters below and glide over the clouds until all you saw were stars and the waxing moon.

Since then, you and the Cannibal had a true bond of rider and dragon. Not one owning the other, but equals on land and the sky.

Unsurprisingly, you could not find your dragon within the Pit as you explored and asked the Keepers if he had appeared. While Cannibal had stopped briefly, attempting to enter for a snack but wisely deciding against it, no one had seen him.

You continued journeying undeterred, following your instincts as you traveled along the outer ring of walls in the Red Keep, enjoying the brisk air on your cheeks. You found a small exit that went out to private beach access. To those outside these red rock walls, it was only accessible by boat. You were optimistic he would be there, curled under one of the many rocky cliffs that reminded you both of home.

Sure enough, you saw the droppings that could only belong to a beast of his size. There were tracks on the shore, indents, and drag marks throughout the pale sand. Piles of bones leading up to where you spotted him, eyes shut and scales so dark that it looked like there was a hole in this realm. You noticed his nostrils twitch as you drew closer, indicating that he caught the scent of what you carried and was awake.

"Zaldrītsos ipradagon," you called in a sing-song voice, feigning to creep behind him as you scratched his tail with your fingers.

Cannibal pretended to nap, acting as if you couldn't see how his eyelids moved.

"Zaldrītsos ipradagon," you repeated, walking closer to his horned head. "I know you are sore that I have neglected you these past days, but I've brought something that I think you'll like..." you trailed off, exaggerating the last word.

Finally, he opened his eyes, the vivid yellow-green of his irises indicating that this massive void was an animal. You revealed the dragon egg that you stole from Dreamfyre's clutch.

"You know, I barely made it out alive," you taunted, raising the textured brown oval as Cannibal unhinged his jaws.

Before he could take a bite, you leaped away, hiding his present behind your back as he let out a warning growl. You rolled your eyes, the cruelness of your actions not lost on you.

"Oh, please. If you eat me, who else would risk their lives to steal another dragon's child for you?" you interrogated as if he could talk. "Exactly. No one. You would be all alone again, hoping someone like me would come along so you don't have to work for food again. I think you have become rather lazy over the years. Mayhaps I should stop bringing you food and make you fend for yourself, hmm?"

You felt the earth tremble beneath your feet as Cannibal stood, shaking the stray sand that landed on his body as he bared his elongated teeth.

Numerous people said that dragons couldn't comprehend the common tongue and that it was pointless to communicate with them, but it wasn't about what language you spoke, but how you felt as you said it. All animals could sense the emotions of other beings; you didn't have to bark to have a dog listen to you. You didn't have to squeal so that pigs knew when their slop was coming; they could sense it-- sense you.

You had grown a habit of testing the limits of Cannibal's basic instincts, wondering in the back of your mind if today might be the day he loses himself to his past and becomes the monster the small folk of Dragonstone believed him to be.

But the conviction you held within your bond would snuff that out quicker than he could fry a hatchling. It didn't make it any less frightening, though, as a roar blew loose the hair from your pined style, saliva splattering on your forehead.

"Fine! Here!" you relented, throwing the egg directly into his opening mouth as he chewed with a stomach-turning crunch.

He still wore the custom leather saddle between two large spikes on his lower neck. It was always a hassle for the Keepers to take off, and you needed more time to remove it when you first arrived at King's Landing. Cannibal became accustomed to it and hardly noticed the thirty-stone piece of equipment as he continued his hermit lifestyle.

"Let us fly today," you spoke softly, with no hint of your jesting tone from earlier. I shall see if I can wrangle you something live when we finish. Some pork would settle nicely in your gut, don't you think?"

You stood with a giddy smile as Cannibal lowered himself so you could clutch hold of the rope ladder along his side, adjusting until you were satisfied in your seat. You loved the aching stretch the saddle gave between your legs, your dragon pushing from the sand into the skies. That was also a relaxing feeling for him as he flapped his enormous midnight wings.

Cannibal took you over the entire townlet, soaring above the small folk as they halted and stared. Seeing as three claimed dragons were already housed within Rhaenys's hill, one being the largest in history, it shouldn't have been such a marvel to them. Though you took the admiration in stride, commanding your dragon with a "dracarys" as a burst of orange flames spewed from his massive jaws into the blue sky. You could hear the awe within their murmurs, smiling down at them as you shared your gift.

Your little dragon eater was more than happy to put on a show, nose-diving into a crowd of onlookers as they watched with horror and shrieks, sure that the beast was going to kill them before he abruptly swooped up, leaving them unharmed and knocking them over from the sheer force.

It was freeing to be on Dragonback. Especially when your dragon was more feared than even the war-hardened Vhagar, flown by the notoriously haughty One-Eyed Prince. To feel the wind whipping your hair, biting your cheeks, the sun warming you with its intense glow. You could feel the moisture from the clouds collecting on your thick black braids, creating tiny water droplets that glimmered like diamonds.

You flew over Blackwater Bay, the sea mist collecting on your eyelashes, the salty taste bursting on your tongue as you licked your lips. There were merchant ships larger than Balerion's skeleton residing at the many docks, the crew members looking like tiny grains of rice as they loaded shipments and hoisted sails.

As a child stuck to the sandstone streets of Flea Bottom, you never imagined yourself as someone who would one day be claiming the skies. The girl who once looked above at the stars as she sat on Lyra's lap was now one with them; what you wouldn't give for her to see you now.

Leaning your body and shouting the command, "pālēs!" Cannibal took you over the Blackwater Rush. Signs of life grew scarce and left only a few small villages along the river, their brick and mortar chimneys emitting the smell of woodsmoke as you soared over them. You were sure that those who saw the speeding dragon were met with fright. The almost demonic-looking blackness absorbed all light briefly before they were again met with the comforting rays.

The Red Keep came into view through the horizon as you circled back, the tallest structure in King's Landing sitting atop Aegon's Hill. Cannibal descended over the high pale redstone buildings, his wings barely a meter away from the tiled roof of the Tower of the Hand. With a smirk, you hoped that Otto was in there, crouching behind the stacks of parchment on his desk.

Suddenly, a roar sounded in the air. Your head swiveled around your body, searching for the noise, but you couldn't find it. You assumed the sun blinded your vision, causing your brown orbs to burn with water. You dug your palms into your sockets, rubbing the sting away as you felt Cannibal ascend.

The screech boomed again, followed by the sound of the wings of a dragon. You turned, prepared for the bright golden glow of the beast's scales. Aegon sat snuggly on his saddle, whipping the reigns so Sunfyre would go faster. You groaned in annoyance at the drunkard prince, shaking your head and commanding Cannibal to lose them before you decided to land.

"Put that wastrel of a man in his place, Cannibal," you snarked. "I promise to allow you as many Dragonkeepers that can fit into your mouth if you do." You swore he nodded in response, beating his ebony wings harder against the wind.

The frigid air pricked your eyes like needles, ripping out more strands of hair as they scratched against the sides of your face. You were glad you chose a warmer riding outfit, for the sun's heat was overpowered by the biting cold that dried your skin.

Cannibal showcased his skills, creating a distance between you and Aegon faster than his dragon could blink. You led them back to the original path you took. The fabric awnings that covered merchant stands ripped from where they were nailed as you flew by, carts carrying fruits and vegetables toppling over as your two dragons raced above. Turning sharply above the slums of houses you once frequented, you went to the port of Blackwater Bay, even more, populated than the inner mouth.

Ships of all sizes resided there, not just merchants, each coming and going, creating a mess of coordinated chaos only shipmasters could understand. The sails were various colors, Houses, and some without indicating what they were. You weaved through them, Cannibal closing his wings as his momentum carried you between the small gaps.

While you expertly dodged each boat, proudly smiling at the men below, you heard a deafening thud and crack, turning to see the pink and golden body of Sunfyre ramming into the mast of an unsuspecting crew.

"Kelītīs," you ordered Cannibal, positioning him as you saw Aegon and his dragon plummet into the brackish waters.

Panic seized your heart, telling your beast to land on the stern of the nearest ship, nearly capsizing it. Without a second thought, you dove into the icy Bay, the briny and freshwater searing your lungs. You swam to the ship Aegon crashed into, moving the floating pieces of stalwart oak out of your way as you said a silent prayer. Sunfyre's head rose above the water, flailing like a drowning cat until he pulled himself onto the sea wall.

"Aegon!" you called out, hoping he would answer you.

You paddled further into the wreckage, yelling out his name again. He still didn't answer, and you feared the worst. The repercussions of the eldest Prince's death were not in your mind; you only wanted to save a drowning man whose death would be your fault.

You inhaled quickly, forcing your eyes to stay open as you dove under the murky water. You could only see a few meters before you, the thick wool of your outfit slowing your movements and making your muscles work twice as hard. Struggling to resurface, you were met with the hull of a ship, swiftly dunking yourself again to avoid being crushed. You sucked in another breath, coughing the contaminated liquid out of your lungs as you looked at Cannibal. You screamed at him to block more ships from passing, and he pushed off, breathing a line of fire to prevent them.

The hair that had come out obscured your vision as you went under again. Your prayers were answered as you spotted an opaque figure, your fingers yanking the floating fabric of the Prince's clothes. You kicked and kicked your legs, straining against everything, pulling you under as you carried Aegon's lifeless body to the surface.

Locking your arms underneath his, you positioned him on your torso, leaning back as you swam to the port wall. The mussels and barnacles dug into your thighs, bending against the stone for support as you heaved Aegon above your head.

He spread on his rear, splayed like the Seven-Pointed Star, his ankles still hanging over the ledge. You realized he must have ingested water; using the last bit of strength, you flipped him over, smacking his back to get rid of it. Aegon sputtered a cough, water, and mucus spewing out of his mouth. You rested your arms on the top of the stone wall, catching your breath as your head turned low. The ground shuddering interrupted your rest, the water around you rippling with vibrations.

Two dragons stood face to face. One of aureate and one of coal, shimmering in the iridescent glare like a prized jewel, the other an ember of carbon and darkness. A low growl rumbled inside the anthracite one's throat; legs bent to pounce and smoke rising from its nose. The golden one put up its defenses, mimicking the stance of the other.

"Lykirī," you said breathlessly, trying to pull yourself over the levy, arms shaking. Cannibal's eyes flickered over you, unwilling to leave himself and you defenseless. "Dohaerās," you demanded firmly as your dragon obeyed, flying into the air before Sunfyre could attack.

"Princess!" a voice yelled. The clink of armor rang in your ears before two hands hoisted you onto dry land, your shins scraping against the ground.

They rolled you onto your rear, looking down with great concern. "Aegon," you panted, pointing toward the groaning man. "The Prince..." Unable to articulate, you only gestured, your tired stems quivering as you attempted to explain what happened without words.

The Cargyll twins directed their attention to the crowned Prince, helping him upright as they assured he was well. You didn't discover you were shivering until the resounding vibrations of your teeth chattering echoed in your skull. Your mind focused solely on rescuing Aegon as the sopping outfit stuck to your skin, the frigid autumn climate chilling you to the bone. A dark shadow of a man blocked what little warmth you acquired from the sunlight, squinting to decipher who he was and why he was only staring.

Ser Criston Cole stood beyond your quivering form, blankly peering down from his nose. The reflection of his silver armor seared your eyes as you turned away. 

You couldn't speak. You couldn't think, concentrating on not being shocked by the freezing temperature. Abruptly a cloak was thrown, and you secured it around your form greedily, curling into a ball to conserve your heat as Ser Cole went over to the small group forming around Aegon.

You needed to get warm.

Why couldn't you get warm?

You hugged the wool blanket closer to your body, helpless to get what every nerve fiber was screaming at you to receive. Exhaustion washed over you, your eyelids gradually drooping.

Aegon is safe; you convinced yourself. There is nothing to worry about now.

You ultimately let the tiredness take control, shutting your eyes as you let out a shuddering breath, your finger loosening around the blanket.

"Princess," the faint title echoed beyond earshot. It sounded too far away, and you couldn't be bothered to reply.

"Princess," you heard softly again.

You couldn't understand why someone was calling for you. Everything was all right now. You could rest comfortably.

Your name was unexpectedly screamed, and you barely managed to pry your lids apart to see the terrified countenance of Ser Arryk Cargyll. You felt yourself lifted onto your shanks as they buckled, causing a surge of adrenaline to wake you partially as you griped the constituents that held you.

"She is soaking wet," you heard Arryk communicate before looking down at your blanched sallow fingers, holding them together with his palms. "Princess, please forgive me for what I plan to do. I must remove your clothes or risk you getting frostbite."

You still couldn't answer, a soft groan jostling in your nose as you felt your legs give out again, shutting your eyes. Intrusive digits began to unbutton your attire, your arms weakly pushing them away in protest. You didn't understand what was happening. One moment you were soaring high atop your dragon, and the next being forcefully undressed. Did Aegon have you again?

"No. Stop. Please," you begged, sluggishly swatting Ser Arryk.

"My Lady, I beseech you," he pleaded. "You will die otherwise."

You persisted, wiggling feebly in Arryk's hold as he stripped you down to your braes and breast binder. Tears of shame and powerlessness flowed down your cheeks, the salty trails warming the area briefly before chilling on the wind burnt skin.

The blanket wrapped around you again, the knight aiding you to his white horse. It didn't feel like you were there, seeing your figure in the surroundings from an outside perspective. Arryk tried putting you onto the saddle by himself, struggling as he couldn't lift the entirety of your limp body.

There were conversations that you could not hear as you leaned against his steely armor, your breathing becoming more difficult each second you stood. Another set of limbs came to assist, resting you on the front of the leather saddle, the pommel digging into your backside as you rested against the rider's chest.

The rhythmic swaying indicated that you had begun moving, hopefully to someplace where you could rest. Preferably scorching with a hearth the size of a solar and a fire blazing like the flames, Cannibal exhaled as you felt yourself fall into a deep slumber.

***

In your subconscious, you felt a tickle on your cheek, swatting it away as you drifted back to unconsciousness.

It happened again, this time a pull to your hair. You opened your heavy eyes, your vision blurry with sleep as you rubbed the afflicted area, turning over with an annoyed grunt. Then again, but now a pinch of your nose as you shot up, lunging into the person that so desperately wanted to disturb your rest.

"You," you spat, moving to get off the intruder.

"Me." Aegon smirked.

"Why are you here?" you interrogated, sliding off the bed to the roaring fire.

"I wanted to see how you were fairing. You gave us quite a fright," he admitted, gleaming smirk still on his pink lips.

Staring at him, you searched your mind, the memories returning in flashes. You, gliding over the streets of King's Landing. You pursued by a serpent of shimmering pink, orange, and gold. Aegon, falling into the dangerous murky waters of Blackwater Bay. He watched the recognition on your face, walking to your place by the hearth.

"And to extend my endless gratitude for saving my life." You scoffed, turning away from Aegon as he clasped his hands behind his back. "What is that now? Twice? I owe you," he admitted, sitting in a green armchair.

You released a huff, trying to distance yourself from Aegon as you went to the pot of tea in the center of the table. Pouring yourself a cup, you were pleased it was still tepid, with the taste of cinnamon and cloves warming your tongue. A bowl of stew rested next to it, the hazy memory of being huddled at the fireplace with thick fabric weighing on your icy bones as you sipped on the broth.

"You would have a debt if you thought twice about your actions," you cursed without thinking. "Do you ever think about how they affect other people? How they affect your wife, your mother... how they affect me?" Aegon's head lowered, his choppy blonde hair draping over his face as he fiddled with his fingers. "Look at me when I am speaking!" you yelled, storming over to where he sat.

"I am not going to lecture you as the Queen does, for you are well enough to know better. I want you to listen to me, hear my words." You kneeled before him, forcing Aegon's glassy eyes to meet your raging ones. "Your drinking and whoring wounds me deeply. You say that I am to put my trust within you, but then you lead two slaves into your bed, a place that we have shared. A place where I-" You choked on your words, a thick lump suddenly forming as you looked away.

You hadn't meant for this to become emotional. Your original intent was to have him whimpering at your feet and begging you to forgive him. The appeal of your sex was the key reason, but you were shaken. Watching in horror as Aegon fell into the Bay had scared you, truly and sincerely. It would've been partially on your hands, and his death, you realized, was not something you could stomach.

"We are allowed to have fun and forget our duty at times. I understand that our life is not what we would have chosen if given the choice, but we must take into account others. We do not have the freedom to forget people as others do with us. If we do then we become the ones who have hurt us, loosing our true selves."

Before you could continue, Aegon released a loud sob, slumping in the chair with his head in his palms. The sound was like an arrow to the heart, pricking your eyes with the intensity of it.

"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. I have tried to be everything they wanted of me. To be the son my father dreamed of, to be a boy my mother could love," he cried, his shoulders shaking. "Why don't they love me? Why does no one love me? Am I truly such a monster?"

You inhaled a ragged breath, pursing your lips as you held back your tears. You could not bring yourself to give Aegon the assurance he needed. He was not a good man by any means. He participated in child fighting pits, gambled to the point of gluttony, and bedded women who were willing and those who were coerced. By certain standards, he was a monster, but not to you. You could see behind the heinous actions he committed was a boy who never learned what was right and wrong. A boy who was neglected and abused since he was born for reasons he could never control, tormented by the realization that he would never receive happiness.

Aegon was a drunkard, a slut, a craven, a wastrel, and a deadbeat, but he was no monster. You knew that to be true even when blinded by loathing, rage, and grief.

Your chin began to quiver, and your pulse began to race as you extended a hand, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. Aegon snapped his head up, his glimmery amethyst eyes glistening in an ocean of tears as you rested his palm against your cheek.

"You are broken, as am I, but we are no monsters." You placed a chaste kiss against his wrinkled skin, showing him your sincerity.

Aegon's lips trembled in his pout, so deeply moved by your words that he collapsed into you. You returned comfort, snaking your arms around him and smoothing his frizzy hair as he cried into the crook of your neck, wetting the fabric of your nightgown with his tears.

You stayed together like that until his sobs turned into hiccups, squeezing you tightly against him as he steadied his breathing. Even then, you did not let go, ridding him of his shoes and outer tunic as you led him to your bed. You were both drained, on a constant emotional overdrive that sucked the energy straight from your souls.

Settling onto the top sheet of your feather tick mattress, you held your arm to Aegon, signaling he could lay beside you. He crawled in like a child to a parent with a nightmare, seeking the comfort of their protective embrace. You let him lean his head on your chest, your back propped up against the collection of pillows at the headboard.

His index traced the curve of your knee, sending tingles up your leg and into your chest. It was intimate, an action one would make to their lover, but it didn't startle you. And the fact that it didn't give you that nauseating feeling in your stomach did not frighten you either. You allowed his digits to slide further up your leg, to your navel, sternum, and back down again. It caused gooseflesh to cover your arms, your nipples hardening with the rush.

Aegon's back settled on your plush thighs, your heart racing out of your chest as he stared with his cracked, shimmering amethyst eyes. He looked like a boy, younger than your brothers, and you knew exactly what broken boys like him needed.

Wordlessly you undid the front strings of your nightgown, letting gravity slide it down your prickled arms and revealing your breasts for him. A sudden heat rushed through your stomach and between your shanks as you saw his pupils dilate, nearly swallowing his irises. You inhaled deeply to settle yourself, endeavoring not to show your uncertainty about being in such a vulnerable situation.

"May I," Aegon paused, choking on his words and wetting his lips. "Can I touch them? Please?"

Your pulse stalled at the inadvertent confession of his nervousness, an almost maternal feeling coming over you as you brushed his curly locks behind his ear. "Yes, you may, dear prince," you mumbled.

The sensation of his fingers gently kneading one breast caused your toes to curl, sparks of satisfaction igniting in your core. You were not proud of letting him do this to you, surrendering one of your most sacred regions to a man known to defile them, but it felt so good. It simultaneously made you feel weak yet powerful, confusing your head and heart on right and wrong.

Aegon was silky in his touches, adding another hand to your neglected globe and leaning his countenance ever so close to them. You tried to hide your enjoyment in his efforts, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as the once saddened boy transformed into the mischievous Prince and brushed his finger over your nipple. You needn't look down to know there was a grin on his face, but you did. The water pooled in his sights was now gone, contentment in its place as he did the same thing to the other. You tipped your head back to hide from his observant gaze, knowing that if you continued watching, a moan would fall from your tongue and only feed his never ceasing ego.

His hold became harsher now, attempting to get a reaction out of you as you held firm. Aegon's index and thumb pinched your nipples, upping his antics. Still, you did not make a sound, but the bend of your knees and scrunching of your nose were winning enough for him, letting out a breathy chuckle as he continued to grope.

Aegon loved your tits. They fit perfectly into his hands as if the Gods made them with him in mind. He hated how you bound them. He believed that they should hang freely (preferably in his palms) without anything to step in the way of their full glory. He understood you did it to repress the sexuality of your body to the people of the court, wishing that by making yourself less palatable to the men and less of a competitor in looks to the women, you would be respected.

Aegon learned you would never admit such a thing to him, but he wasn't stupid. You made choices with careful calculation and a purpose; he just wished it didn't come in the form of repressing your body.

You were exquisite. The way your dark lashes batted against your cheeks, your midnight hair so long and thick that Aegon wished to blanket himself with it. People would constantly say that Targaryens are closer to Gods than men with white hair and purple eyes, but he didn't see it that way. His family rode dragons. That made them Gods, not the incestuous looks passed down from generation to generation in hopes of keeping their Valyrian blood pure.

You were just as gorgeous as the songs claimed Aegon the Conqueror's younger sister, Rhaenys was, but not in the supremacist ways his family judged. You appeared human, but a Goddess in your own right, not one that came with a name.

"I love your tits," Aegon complimented, lost in his mind as he rested his forehead on your sternum.

It felt natural to surrender to your desires, ignoring the racing thoughts that screamed at you to stop this. Your fingers rested on his meaty thigh, digging into the flesh as the Prince latched his mouth onto your nipple like a babe, swirling his tongue against the bud.

"Aegon!" you shouted in what was meant to protest but sounded more like a moan.

Your digits gripped his blonde hair, not pushing or pulling but giving you the faux action of control. You felt the vibrations of his breathy grunts through your ribcage, causing you to rub your legs together in desperation as he sucked brutally.

"Oh. Aegon, please," you whimpered, unsure if it was a plea for him to stop or keep going as you arched your back.

Wave after of pleasure rippled through your breasts and straight to your core, feeling uncomfortably wet as he moved his mouth to the other. A dull pain sensation rippled through your free tit as Aegon slapped it, soothing the skin with his touch before doing it again. You could feel his hips moving into the air, seeking the same ecstasy he was giving you.

Without thought, you found yourself unlacing his breeches, your trembling hands searching for what hid there. You pulled his throbbing cock free, seeing it for the first time and noticing the pearlescent liquid leaking from the rudy tip. He barely fit inside your hand, only your middle finger and thumb touching as you swiped the essence from his silt, dragging it down over a tiny ridge and veins.

Aegon's hips bucked at your touch, biting harshly against your abused nipple. You squeezed his shaft in response, throwing your head back momentarily as you began to move. You raised your hand in almost a spinning way, gently tightening around his cockhead before sliding down again, repeating it over and over.

"Gods. You're so fucking perfect. Your tits are so fucking perfect. They would feed babes well," Aegon mumbled against the plump skin of your breast, moving to the other one. You couldn't conceal the brief shock at his vulgar, coarse, and heady words, making you lose your breath as you sped up your ministrations.

The eldest Prince continued thrusting into your fist, aiding you as hot air from his nose dampened your chest. "So good. So fucking good, little one," he rambled into your flesh. "You're so good to me, my pretty girl-my good girl. You know what I need."

His words temporarily stole you from your trance, trying to conceal it with the tightening of your fist. Suddenly, the real reason you initiated this came to mind. It was just another step in securing the throne for your mother. Everything was falling into place. Perhaps it was just nonsense spouted during the heat of the moment, but it was still said. It was what Aegon felt, even if it was because your hand was pumping his manhood. A smirk rose to your lips in victory, leaning over to slide a glob of spittle onto him to help aid in his pleasure.

"I do, Aegon. I know what my sweet prince needs," you confessed into his hair, using your free arm to push him further into your chest. "My sweet Prince needs to come for his pretty girl. I want to feel your seed dripping on my flesh." You placed a chaste kiss on the crown of his head, yanking the ends of his damp hair so he could look into your eyes, deepening the act of your siphoning hand.

"Be a good boy, and let go for your little girl. I know you want to."

Aegon nodded aggressively, his lips parting as he panted. His thrusts became twitches until you felt him go entirely still, mouth agape, as he released the loudest, most lecherous groan you had ever heard, his thighs trembling. You felt the warm ropes of his spend on your still-moving fist, his cock spasming as it aided your pumps.

You soothed him through the aftershocks of his little death, kissing the salty tears that ran down his cheeks from the intensity of it. You sang praises in Aegon's ear as he clutched onto your body for dear life, attempting to ground himself. You were unsure of what else to say as a sense of triumph washed over you, the doubts you had from days prior only a distant memory.

This would be easier than you thought. You didn't have to let him do things to your body. If you kept his prick busy, you could leave Aegon completely satisfied and smitten without concern.

Instead of speaking and letting your thoughts escape you, you gave the buzzed Prince a peck on the nose, sliding out from under him to find a rag as you cleaned him and your hand. You opened the covers for Aegon after you were finished, seemingly a simple offer for him to stay, but you knew the truth. A smile curled on your lips as you watched him crawl under the sheets, his breathing still faster than normal from his climax. You felt like the cat who finally captured the canary.

You scooted closer to him, wedging your arm under Aegon's neck as you directed him to lie on your chest. You kept the strings of your gown untyed, allowing him free access whenever he wanted. Almost instinctively, he took it, cupping the curve of your breast in his hand as he settled. You felt him swipe self-soothing movements over your nipple for it to become hard again, blowing cool air to keep it that way.

"Will you sing to me?" Aegon suddenly asked, catching you unaware.

"I apologize, but I do not think my singing would be the last thing you want to hear before sleep," you lightly teased. "I am no siren."

You felt him smile against you, moving even closer into your body. "'Tis alright. Your mere presence is enough to lull me."

You lay there in silence, a war raging between your heart and your head. There wouldn't be any harm in singing. If it were what Aegon wanted, then you would do it. After all, it was just another stepping stone toward your goal.

"When you call to me asleep up the ragged cliffs, I scramble. A single thread hangs limply down, and I breathe, 'Not now, not now.' And I find you all unwoven, trying desperately to sew. I know the kindest thing is to leave you alone," you started, feeling Aegon's eyes widen against you.

"When your seams have come unknitted, and you cry out to the sky, I've run out of my words; my song just let me die, me die. The rockrose and the thistle will whistle as you moan. I could try to calm you down, but I know you won't." 

The Prince's rubbing of your body gradually ceased, drifting off into a much-needed rest as you continued to sing the only melody that came to mind. 

"All the pins inside your fretted head and your muttered whens and hows, all your mother's weaves and your father's threads. Let me rob them of you now. Because I'll darn you back together when you think that you're bereft, and you'll wail, you'll scream, but I'll never stop because it's all that I have left." 

You felt your breathing hitch, swallowing a lump that had suddenly formed.

"I wake and hear you calling, and up those cliffs, I climb, and I find you with a thimble weeping, 'May I?' I ask, 'May I?' And you gently gift it to me because you've no clue how to sew, and I know the kindest thing. I pray to god it's the kindest thing... I know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone."

Masterlist of Series

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How about that exciting chapter? What do y'all think about that?! The song I included at the end is by The Amazing Devil titled The Rockrose and the Thistle and is sung mainly by Joey Batey, who you might know as the bard, aka Jaskier, in The Witcher Netflix series. Please take a listen to it if you have the time to support them!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter because I enjoyed writing it!

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @somemydayy, @ariana-dumbledore8, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @sunny-boy-06, @heavenly1927, @prettylittlelady, @hjgdhghoe

#aegon ii #aegon the second #aegon targaryen ii #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x you #hotd aegon #aegon ii fic #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon ii x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii angst #aegon ii targaryen x female reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #game of thrones #game of thrones fic

[lightwing-s]

Alfred's point of view of food!vlogger reader when they reach for the same apple and her talking about jason please🙏🙏🙏

Jason's pov

“Oh! I’m sorry sir,” Alfred heard you say after accidentally touching hands when you reached for the same apple at the stand. “You can have it”.

He noticed a pink blush taint your cheek, matching the color of your light sundress. A shy smile plastered on your face and apologetic eyes.

“It’s no problem,” he said. “These apples look pretty inviting and I’m sure there are plenty to feed an entire cloud of bats.” you laughed at his joke and he gave you a genuine smile in return. It’s been long he got to hear a similar sound, as life with Bruce had been growing gloomier by the day, and he missed his boys and their mess around the house, even if they always led him into more work. He was in desperate need of a glint of happiness.

Rainy and somber skies traded for bright and sunny ones. He was glad to leave Gotham for once, and felt a light sensation in his chest upon waking up this morning. “I’m sure you could find some great recipes to use these apples in.” he told you.

“They’d taste amazing, but I’m actually looking for strawberries. It’s been hard finding…”

“Good ones these days?” he cut you mid sentence. “I’ve been wanting to make strawberry tarts for a while but I don’t seem to ever find really good ones.”

“Isn’t it!?” you answered loudly. “Gosh, my boyfriend loves strawberry tarts and I’ve been having the same problem. What is it with their harvest recently, has any super villain decided to ruin them for us?”

It was now your turn to get a laugh out from Alfred, who accompanied you in a search for decent strawberries so you could feed your dear boyfriend his beloved tarts. He listened to you rambling about how sweet of a boyfriend yours was, and how much of a gentleman he was too. He was getting to know how you two got together when perfect looking, big and bright red strawberries popped in your line of view.

“Those look so good, Alfred.” You said, wrapping your arm around his and dragging him along to the stand where the strawberries were on.

“Well, Y/n. Now your boyfriend can get all the dessert he wished for.” You giggled, and you two started selecting the best ones out of the bunch. Then, you seemed to notice something familiar in the distance, and moved slightly away from where you once stood.

“Jason! Babe!” he heard you call someone he could only imagine was your boyfriend. Following your gaze, he saw a familiar tall build he would recognize anywhere, and laughed by himself at the coincidence. You both had the same person in mind when thinking of the strawberries, and were talking about this same person without noticing it was the same one. The world sure could be funny sometimes.

A funny feeling began to grow in his heart upon this realization. Seeing the way you looked at him, and the way Jason looked at you in return made his old heart warm up and this lightness fill his body. All those sweet words you’d been saying were meant to his Jason, and he was so, but so, glad they were. So he stood there, like a proud father, watching as the largest smile spread in Jason’s face. One he hadn’t seen a long, long time.

“My new friend, Alfred, and I were just chatting about how difficult it’s been to find such good strawberries these days, isn’t it?” he heard you approach him again, dragging Jason by the hand. When Jason looked at him, he gave Alfred a soft smile, not as big as the one he gave you, but just as honest.

Extending his hand, he greeted the boy as he arrived at his side. “Nice to finally see you again, Master Jason.” And nice to see you happy again, too.

a/n: i finally could finish something, i'm so proud of myself lol

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd blurb #jason todd #jason todd fluff #jason todd x you #jason todd x yn #food vlogger reader

[historianthesecond]

Who Came in With the Sea [VI]

FINALLY! 😭😭 <33 This chapter took so long to come out and I don't even know why lmao

Let's ignore that the chapters are just getting longer 💀 anyway, I hope you like it ^^

Nikolai Lantsov! (Sturmhond!) x Fem!Mermaid! Reader----4.3K---SFW**

> M A S T E R L I S T <

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Synopsis: When you’re rescued from a slaver ship by a privateer and his crew, you have to get used to life aboard the Volkvolny as you try to uncover how to avenge your capture and those who you left behind--just as your place in this new world where there seems not to be a home for you anymore. 

Chapter Summary: Every day you get closer to Rakva, the land once you called home and that now only brings back haunting ghosts. Though you aren't alone as you think you'd be, once it's time to face the nightmares.

Tags: Strangers to Lovers| Slow Burn| Mermaid AU| **Descriptions of Violence, Death, & Blood| Backstory time!| Trauma Bonding Slight Hurt, mostly Comfort| A Love Confession if you squint|

You could never remember the name of your hometown. A Saint fisherman whom the humans had called it in honor of. It was around forty minutes waking to the nearby city, much more secure of the sea's sudden rage by some hills in which the farmers harvested the sweetest apples you'd ever had, the biggest potatoes your mother used to serve in her fish tomato soup.  

Perhaps the humans had believed your kind was sent by the Saint himself to aid them, when the merfolk appeared in a cave near the nearby docks, many, many years ago. The mermaids would change the course of devastating cyclones, help the humans with bountiful catches, using the pirates coming to raid the village as their offerings to the Depths. Even when they disappeared, their Gifts to the town remained.  

Your kind had learned to shapeshift, giving the Depths offerings rich in flowers and fruits, in animals and human possessions that ended up abandoned or lost on the beach. 

While in disguise, the humans gave your kind a home in which you had the ocean on your porch, the Depths so close to you that your instincts wouldn't be screaming to return to the waves. In exchange, because you people were so used to deals like these, you’ll protect them from being attacked, and they gave you the land in which you wouldn't be hunted. A delicate, centuries-old treaty that ought not to be broken. 

Until one fatal day. 

It always started with the smell. The distinct odor of gunpowder permeated the air, and then, the following, logical, burn of wood. The wooden boards of the port collapsed, doing the same wailing noise as the pitched roofs of the houses along the coast. 

Incredibly early in the morning, when the sky was still gray, some streaks of orange peeking from between the mist that hung in the ocean like a veil tearing with the shapeless shadows of approaching ships.  

The flares of their cannons made the earth tremble, making you jump out of bed, senses heightened when the air filled with smoke as if you’d been trapped in the ghost realm.  

Soon enough, all that would be left would be ghosts.  

They weren't truly pirates—wearing uniforms and using fancy rifles instead of pistols and blades. They burned everything in their way, all the obstacles. Searching, hunting, killing.  

Hunting your kind. Killing them to collect their blood on vials that would get auctioned overseas.   

They knew you were there, that mermaids had made a living among humans as was foretold by those silly fairytales people tended to forget reaching a certain age.  

A secret that shouldn't have gotten out of the small bay of the fishing town, not when the mermaids had been sent by the patron Saint to aid the working people to have plenty of catches, pleasant weather, and an active link to their faith. 

 A belief that wasn’t enough against tragedy.  

Someone had told the hunters, and for sure they weren’t the people whose voices screamed, bleeding as the red rays of sunlight filtered through the grey, tinting the waves of the same crimson hue, flicking reflections of the flames consuming any life left.  

Your parents and friends were outnumbered, because the humans had made tools whose only purpose was to destroy, and they did it very well. Bullets pierced their way through the skin, and not even open contact with the sea could heal it quickly enough before another wound bloomed open.  

They had told you to run, but there was no escape, and inland would only drive you crazy without the presence of the Depths. So, you followed them in a futile attempt to help, to even surrender with them if things went awry. To welcome the sea and become one with it. 

You had read in a fairytale that mermaids didn’t have a soul, so they enjoyed chasing humans down in search of one. It wasn’t true, of course. The merfolk chased them as a gift to the Depths, as an exchange for power. 

But taking giving too much to the Depths pushed their hunger for more into something sinister. It corrupted as all power did. Breaking once the beauty that many legends had praised to the mermaids; all that would remain would be black, bottomless eyes and shark-like teeth, a tail like a tangle of algae, grey skin with amorph scales.  

They would become like the Depths, a reflection. Their closer Daughters and Sons. Powerful, but with an insatiable hunger that would make them commit atrocities just like the one that pinned you to that sand cliff, with only your toes tethering from the darkness, the salty taste of the water mixed with metal and the acrid of burned things. Decay.  

When the hunters got you, you were about to sink into the abyss. But you saw it. 

You saw them.  

Pale, ghostly figures hovered between the black water, one gifting the bodies to the Depths, the other watching as the killed merfolk became sea foam that was swept by the currents as if they and their familiars would have never existed.  

You could read the disgust on their faces, teeth bared in a scowl.  

The traitors of the Depths don’t deserve the gifts It brings us. And such gift included life itself. 

Being on the surface, you would have felt the wet streaks of tears staining your cheeks. Alas, all you got was the burning of the poisoned harpoon clung to your side, fire traveling in your veins that was more fury than pain.  

You would make them pay. You must make them pay. 

The hunters dragged you to the surface then, and your jaw clenched at seeing the sirens disappear down the abyss, leaving the humans to leave despite the sirens’ raw instincts to kill and feed the Depths, of gaining more power with each silhouette sinking to the bottomless dark.  

But they couldn't kill the ones making their dirty deeds, as it was forbidden to cause harm to another of the Depth's cherished creations—you were a family, after all. Or once had been.  

You remembered your mother’s words about going swimming alone. That there were more dangerous things roaming in the water than greedy humans. 

The chilly air made you realize something, seeing the blurry image of your hometown torn in ruins, with smoky serpents ascending to the sky, wood calcinated, and blood splattering the golden sand. You’d become one of those things your mother feared and loathed so much if you wished to lay to rest the ghosts that will be following you in each look toward the past.  

In each nightmare that ended bathing you in a cold sweat, ghostly fingers paralyzed your being with pleads, with screams. 

You should have come down with us.  

*~*~*~* 

Nikolai felt the mattress dipping, the pair of legs next to him shaking as if the two blankets thrown on top of you both weren't enough. It made him remember his time while serving in the army, when in the middle of the night, laying in the worn-out cot before entering the battlefield, he would lay awake hearing the nightmares plaguing the other soldiers’ minds—they who had been brave enough to go to sleep in the first place. 

But he wasn’t in the border fronts anymore; winter nights where the wind howled, carrying away the screams of the ghost of the war, the ground covered in ice that creaked like broken bones with each stride of his boots. He could feel the gentle sway of the sea, the humid air clinging to his hair.  

His eyes took a couple of seconds to get used to the darkness inside his quarters, the greyish light of the upcoming morning sheepishly entering the edges of the window. 

Nikolai looked at the ceiling, from the corner of his eye taking count of your figure, which confused him for the spare moments in which his mind was calmed and empty. Then, the memories came rushing in like a flood. 

Like the flood that would occur in the Volkvolny if he couldn’t repair it before the ship could enter another storm.  

Focus. The sound wasn’t a dream, was it? 

He heard a whimpering sound, the cry echoing in the still room in which the only thing brewing a tempest was your mind. Your body shivered against his, hands clasping the blankets so hard he knew you’d wake up not feeling them at all.  

Even with the poor lightning, he could see the wet streaks running down your cheeks.  

What to do? It had been so many years since he got to wake up someone from their nightmares. Back then, he would sit at the edge of Dominik’s cot, gently shaking him by the shoulder, whispering his name to not wake up the rest. But where his friend would thrash under his grasp, you huddled in closer. 

He called your name, so many times that at some point it became a prayer.  

You opened your eyes in wide, naked terror, looking at something that wasn’t there.  

“I should have gone with them,” you said in a broken voice, strained with tears.  

He held you by trembling shoulders, trying to make his touch ground you out that memory—because no dream could ever be this vivid.  

“Breathe. Look at me.” He searched for your eyes, but they were blurry with tears Nikolai dried off with the pad of his thumb.  

“Why am I still here when they’re gone?” you said, his heart breaking, mind returning to those first nights without Dominik. An empty cot next to his. A funeral he couldn’t aid to. A friend he couldn’t save. 

It should have been me. 

The wounds made hours before were gone when he scooped closer, your body covered in a cold sweat, seeping into your bones with each trembling jerk of your legs and arms. Even if you wouldn't have been akin to helping him, Nikolai knew he would be still here, with his arms hugging you when your whimpers broke into full sobs. 

“Because they knew you’ll do great things in their place,” Nikolai muttered, even if some days he couldn’t believe it himself. “That your purpose is yet to come, while theirs… well. They know you can do it on your own,” he added, his shushed tone moving the hairs atop your hair. You smelled like the sea, the marine breeze that came to port in the summer, the ones he loved to walk under along the beach. “Sometimes it’s just love. One can’t possibly stand to see our beloveds die without at least trying to save them.” 

Your fists left the bedsheets, curling around his back as if trying to ground yourself. “I don’t think I can do it,” you replied, voice barely above a whisper that still carried out your broken heart. “I hate sacrifices.” 

He rested his head atop your head, allowing you to curl around him, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, here where the haunting smell of burning powder faded into musk and books and brandy. Not a ghostly memory, but a solid person whose heart lulled yours into calm. 

“Me too, angelfish,” he said, knowing full well he was more than willing to die for any of his friends. For you, even. His hand brushed your hair toward your back, and he was glad you couldn’t see his sad smile when he replied: “You’ll have me here to help you, angelfish. If you’d have me, that is.” 

Between your shaking sobs, you nodded slightly. “I want to. Please.” 

Nikolai stood very still, just holding you as if you were made of glass despite having seen you outlined in the grey veil of the storm, in the blue of the waves the ancient power of the deep sea seeped into your eyes.  

“Do you want to hear a story?” you said, and he hoped you wouldn’t notice the goosebumps your breath drew all over his arms. “A mermaid story.” 

“I would love to.” He nodded, thinking that perhaps, someday, you would like to hear a soldier’s story, too.  

*~*~*~* 

You were looking out at the sea when the music started floating around the Volkvolny’s deck. Just like the clear evening, it sounded cheerful and light, contrary to the dread that settled on your stomach with every passing hour.  

Ever since the incident with the foreign ship, you had started to avoid the water. Your friend the squid was gone, too. Because it could sense that it wasn’t safe anymore.  

Soon, you would be able to see the outline of the coast, familiar hills covered in green contrasting with the gold dunes along the beach, and houses dotted on the horizon.  

Rakva. Your home—or what it was supposed to be your home, before. 

They were waiting for you there, you could sense it in the way the water felt still, of something roaming underneath the ship. You couldn’t even talk with Sturmhond about it, promising in your mind that you’ll get it covered like you did yesterday.  

Because it wasn’t fair for you to drag him into your situation, even when you had told him the whole story. Something that you wished to regret but couldn’t.  

He had hugged you, making you look into his eyes as his whole presence grounded you. For a moment the past didn’t bleed out in the tears sieging your eyes, the future wasn’t the amorph shadow of a tragic ending. It was just you in his arms, seeking a refuge where you could turn once the sea had become too stormy to keep navigating. 

Just another everlasting hug that made you want to freeze time.   

Now you looked at Sturmhond, his figure tall but nonchalant, talking with his crew as they were surrounding the table with uneven legs that Tolya had brought from the gallows to play cards. The promise you made to him still weighting in your mind. Of staying. 

You wanted so badly to join them, to have a smile to give them, and just seek out a brighter future, but things weren't so easy. You still had to find your revenge, hoping that perhaps it would bring you peace because nothing else had.   

Your hands grasped the rail, making the wood creak. Because even if you loathed sacrifices, you were willing to make one to keep them all safe. To keep him safe. After all, they were just trying to save you back then, too. The least you could do was do the same.  

You gazed at the waves until they became ink black under the shine of the moon, a vivid orange hue coming from the deck where Sturmhond’s crew and the new passengers were chatting and laughing, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps as they danced echoing on the deck, all celebrating to have returned home alive.   

The gloomy part of you wished you hadn’t.  

No. You thought, breathing deeply, feeling the pressure of the humid air starting to get heavy and charged around you. Calm down.  

Sturmhond was right. Your family wanted you to escape from the love they had for you, not for duty. They didn't plan for you to hunt down the sirens that sought the treacherous merfolk who dared to live among humans and not bring them to the Depths. They just wanted you to live.  

“I can’t do it,” you muttered, feeling a knot in your throat. You felt that rage was the only thing keeping you pushing forward. If it evaporated, then what? Who would you be? 

I wanted to invite you to stay with me, your mind remembered, making your cheeks hot. Could you? 

I would miss you if you left, Sturmhond had said. You looked back at them, all happy and bright like the stars on a clear night. And among them was the brightest, at least, to you.  

He caught you looking at him, smiling goodbye to his crew to join you in your lonely corner.  

I would miss you, too, you admitted, his steps echoing on the wooden floor.  

Sturmhond extended you his hand that wasn’t holding a glass of brandy, the amber liquid catching your attention for the way it reflected like honey against the lamps. “Do you want to dance? It’ll help you warm up against the wind,” he told you, settling next to you against the rail. 

You hadn't talked that much after what you told each other last morning, that you both had lost a lot of things—or rather, that he hasn’t had them in the first place. That he had forged his place in this world aboard this ship, a thing that part of you thought you couldn’t do. 

Perhaps you only needed help.  

“I don’t dance,” you said, looking at a growing smile curving his lips. “What’s so funny?” 

“I can’t believe you. You surely went to festivals and danced the night away with someone lucky enough to be your dance partner,” he chuckled, looking around before saying: “Unless you can’t dance because you’re bad at using your pretty legs.” 

You frowned. “I’m very good at using my legs, thank you for your concern.” You could run and jump and climb trees, but dancing had never been an interesting activity for you, even if your parents taught you from a tender age.  

“Then concede me a dance, my lady,” he said. “I won’t disappoint you—in fact, I’m quite an excellent dancer.” 

"At this point, you're just utterly perfect," you replied, not without a hint of sarcasm in your voice.  

“It makes me very happy you’re finally noticing, love.” 

The cold breeze of the ocean didn’t help to cool down your hot cheeks. You didn’t say anything, thinking that perhaps he would leave. But he didn’t. He had been used to your silences during your night watches, lending you comfort by his presence alone.  

“I wanted to tell you that my offer still stands,” Sturmhond muttered, his fingers playing with the glass. He turned to look at you. “You can stay here. This could be your home, just as it is for many,” he said, looking at his crew.  

As it is for me, hung in the air.  

“I…” you said, fingers tapping along the rail, feeling the soft surface, being brushed over for who knows how many hands through the years, against the rain and the sun, the wind. You wanted to be as studier as this piece of wood. “I have to… finish some business I left behind.” 

His eyes hardened, knowing the risks your vengeance would bring onto you. “Let me help you.” 

“I can’t.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t want to lose anybody else.” Much less you. But you couldn’t say that, because the sea was listening, just as the creatures lurking beneath.  

You looked at him with a faint smile, your hand covering his with a fleeting weight. “I think I’ll concede you this dance, my lord.” 

Sturmhond chuckled, and for a moment you thought he would keep insisting, not letting you slip away with such a ridiculous distraction. But pressuring you wasn’t the way either.  

He put the empty glass over a cargo box nearby, his other hand tugging yours to keep you half-hidden from view. Your frown must have been amusing to him because he passed his thumb over the crease.  

“Wouldn’t be as special if we have a big audience, don’t you think?” he said, his hand finding a comfortable spot on the curve of your hip. “I’m dancing with a beautiful mermaid, after all.” 

The music sounded muffled, shadows elongated around the corner you had claimed as a personal ballroom, barely illuminated by the moonlight peeking between the clouds and the ghostly orange hue of the lamps reflected in the sails.  

Still there in the semi-penumbra, you saw his golden hair glow, and his bright smile made your stomach feel too light, just like your feet as he twirled you around. A giggle escaped from your lips as you felt the breeze enveloping you. 

It made you go back to the docks, your figure steeping on the edge of the wooden planks, ready to transform into your mermaid form to join your family on the water.  

“Isn’t your smile so lovely?” he commented, cradling you into his arms after the turn. So awfully close to being considered proper, but you didn’t mind, so his shoulders relaxed when you put your free hand above one instead of placing it into the inner curve of his elbow. 

“I still think it’s the mermaid charm,” you commented, biting the inside of your cheek to stop you from smiling even more. “I’ve been lulling you at night with my voice, after all.” 

You were swaying in a slower rhythm than the cheerful melody floating in the air, cast away in your little world—the same one from his chambers after dark, where you would lay next to him and just talk, unsteady whispers of flicking stories about mermaids collecting shells for the kids, about a young boy learning how to sail. 

Sturmhond smiled. “The best sleep I’ve had in so long.” He squeezed your hand taken in his, leaning down his head so slightly that all you could see was him. “So much that in the morning, when I wake up and see you, it still feels like a dream.” 

“I—, you’re just saying that” you breathed, wondering if he could hear your heart pick up speed.  

“I’m prone to be shameless, but I’m speaking with my heart here, angelfish," Stumhond called your name in a mutter, like a secret he would like to treasure within his heart forever, and you couldn’t deny him from letting him see your eyes boring into his. “Tell me how foolish it is for a ship’s captain to want a mermaid as much as I want you. I need to hear it—though I can’t promise your answer will change how I feel.” 

You stood there; lips pressed in a thin line that already felt like rejection to him. 

“I can’t promise you any more things,” you said softly, the dance ending abruptly but not so your closeness. “Things that perhaps I won’t be able to fulfill.” You looked away for a moment, your gaze fixated on the waves. "What if I can’t come back after… that? What then? I don’t wish you to hold onto the ghost of a broken promise.” 

 “Better a broken promise than the eternal regret of things left unsaid.” 

“You’re too deep to be just a privateer,” you joked, but you couldn’t make him laugh. Shrinking slightly, you muttered: “I think it’s very foolish of you.” 

He arched his eyebrows, hands still on your body as if trying to memorize it in those flicking moments before falling asleep when you held onto him to climb onto the deck after your swims.  

“But I think I’m a little bit of a fool, too,” you whispered, your head tilting upwards so your words could be heard amidst the growing noise of the waves leaping against the Volkvolny’s hull.  

Sturmhond chuckled. “Luckily for me,” he said, his breath tingling your cheeks, eyes drawn to your lips. You were so close you could taste the brandy from them. 

A drizzle started falling, icy rain quickly seeping into your clothes as Sturmhond tried to cover you with his jacket without much success.  

He looked at the sky, lead clouds covering the moon in thick overlays. The ship had just started entering a storm. “Perhaps not so much today, it seems,” Sturmhond added with an annoyed pout, which made you smile. 

The sways of the waves increased, but that wasn’t the reason you leaned in against him in a hug, head buried against his chest. On your tiptoes, you gathered the courage to settle a shy kiss on the outline of his jaw. 

You felt him stiffening, his hand returning to your waist to give it a fleeting squeeze. “You should do that again, angelfish, once we get out of this storm.” 

“Captain!” you heard someone shout from the crow’s nest. “It seems we should deviate the route.” The man let fall the spyglass into Sturmhond’s grasp. “There’s a cyclone ahead of our original course.” 

He frowned, and you could read his mind. This wasn’t a tropical cyclone’s zone, much less in the starting months of winter when both the air and the water became colder.  

“I’ll take the helm, then,” he said, his eyes warmth, hands putting the jacket over your shoulders to keep whatever speckle of warmth was left. “You should go inside.” 

“I’m going to fetch raincoats," you answered because there was no way you would let him alone navigate amidst the tempest, no matter how many times he had done so.  

Maybe you could even make the storm weaker, even if it was another trap you’d be willingly falling into.  

“You don’t have to, angelfish,” Sturmhond took your hand before you could slip away, almost a plea for you to refuge inside his chambers, where you would be safe.  

“I want to. I’ll help you. If you’d have me,” you said, hearing the rumble of thunder growing closer.  

His bright eyes crinkled in crescents when he grinned, a boyish smile that ended with a strained laugh bubbling out his chest.  

“Completely,” he muttered, letting his hand trace the curve of your cheek, the warmth of your skin soothing against the freezing rain. “Endlessly.” 

You smiled sheepishly, feeling your cheeks boiling despite the drop in temperature with every league the Volkvolny approached the storm’s heart.  

“Then I’ll be back,” you called, letting go of his hand to run toward the latch and down his chambers. Along the way, you couldn't stop thinking that even if there were some promises that you couldn’t keep, that wouldn’t mean you won’t try.  

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lanstov x you #shadow and bone x you #nikolai lantsov imagine #shadow and bone fanfiction