#(I have opinions on time lord names but that’s besides the point)

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

I really think the best way to consume doctor who extended universe media (especially the books) is to treat it as officially licensed fan fiction. Like sure they have the rights to use these characters, but also there’s a very high likelihood that none of this will come up in the show so if you don’t agree you can just call it not canon and move on

[agaypanic]

I saw that you are writing about Roderick Heffley.

Can I make a request about Rodrick Heffley/reader (punk grunge girl)?

The reader has been friends with Rodrick for a year, she has her own band and she often hangs out with Rodrick.The reader writes songs for the band and when I realized that I fell in love with Rodrick, I wrote an entire album in his honor.(but since the reader replaced male pronouns with female pronouns in the songs, Rodrik did not understand about falling in love.)

You can make an awkward but sweet confession at the end.(like Roderick only got it when his friend told him directly about it, or when the reader was leaving town...)

I apologize if this is too specific and detailed. And I also ask you to forgive me if something is unclear, English is not my native language.

My Muse (Rodrick Heffley X Songwriter!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Inspiration for new songs strike you when you realize you’ve fallen in love with your friend Rodrick Heffley. But when you get the guts to play him a song as a way of confessing and he doesn’t understand, you figure it’s a lost cause.

A/N: reader is more of a pop-punk artist, and she wrote the only exception by paramore bc i said so. Idk much about instruments/terminology and also writing a character singing feels so awkward to me so sorry if it’s bad. Reader’s band is named after the one in metal lords (such a good movie ugh)

***

You and Rodrick had been friends for years, bonding over a shared love of music. As the two of you got older, you ventured into this interest by forming your own bands. Rodrick’s band, Löded Diper, was more rock, while yours, SkullFlower, followed more of a pop-punk genre. But that didn’t stop you and Rodrick from jamming and writing together during your free time.

With all the time you spend with Rodrick, you soon realized that your feelings for him grew beyond platonic, as cliche as it sounded. You obviously didn’t want to say anything and risk ruining what you had with him.

But you couldn’t help but have hope that Rodrick returned your feelings. No matter how many crushes he had, how distracted he became with his band’s latest business venture, or how often he got grounded to the point of not being allowed to leave the house for anything besides school, he always found his way to you. Sure, your heart ached a bit to see him so hung up over a girl who wouldn’t give him the time of day. But it was always made better when he’d sneak through your window just to sit with you when he should’ve been at home.

You didn’t want to bottle up your feelings forever, so you decided to write it all down in the form of lyrics. What started as a verse and half of a chorus soon became a complete song. And then one song turned into a handful. When you showed your bandmates, they immediately wanted to get to work on the instrumentals.

After a few long rehearsals and some convincing from the rest of the band, you decided to let Rodrick hear what you had been working on—half for his opinion and half as a love confession to your best friend.

“So…” As you walked to class with Rodrick, you kept having to tell yourself not to feel so anxious. Just think of it as just another band practice, and not you telling your best friend that you’re in love with him. “SkullFlower’s having a little rehearsal tonight. I think we’ve gotten a new song down pretty good. Did you wanna come?”

“Hell yeah!” Rodrick responded, seeming more pumped up than before you had asked. “What time were you thinking?”

“Probably around five. It’ll be at Steph’s place, since she has the best set up.”

The two of you stopped in front of your class, standing a bit to the side of the door to not block anyone’s path. 

“I’ll be there,” Rodrick said with a grin, patting your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “See you then.” Then he turned around and left to go to his own class, leaving you to walk in alone. As you sat down in your seat, the only thing on your mind was how you hoped everything would go right tonight.

***

It was a pretty common occurrence for you and Rodrick to be at each other’s band rehearsals. So, none of your friends were surprised to see him pull up in his somewhat busted van while you tuned instruments and set up equipment. He jogged up the driveway with a grin and two slushies, one for him and one for you. Another common thing between you two was showing up with some kind of sweet treat just for the two of you.

“Hey guys!” Rodrick greeted everyone in Steph’s garage before handing you a large slushie cup filled with your favorite flavors. “Hey, rockstar.”

“Hi, Roddy.” You said, blushing at the little nickname before sipping your drink. You averted your gaze to somewhere else in the room, so you missed the slight pink on Rodrick’s cheeks from the nickname only you were allowed to use.

After a few minutes of mingling, you and the band got ready to play while Rodrick settled in a lawn chair. He sat directly in front of you, so you felt you had no choice but to look at him while fiddling with the microphone stand.

“This one took, like, a day to write,” you warned, taking a final sip of your slushie before setting it on the floor next to you. “It’s a little softer than the stuff we usually play, but I think it’s pretty good. But I wrote it, so I’m a bit biased.” 

“Everything you write is good, Y/n.” Rodrick tipped his slushie cup towards you. “Lemme hear it.”

You nodded and turned to Hailey. She started strumming on her guitar as Steph accompanied her on the keyboard. You swayed along to the music with closed eyes, internally counting down to your cue. 

Rodrick had probably heard you sing a million times, you’d probably sung more around him than you did alone. But your nerves made it feel like you were performing in front of a sold-out stadium for the first time, instead of in your friend’s practically empty garage.

“I’d never sing of love if it does not exist.” You plucked up the courage to finally look at Rodrick, who was already watching you with a smile so small you almost couldn’t see it. “But darling, you are the only exception.”

You didn’t know if it was the fear of knowing you were confessing your feelings to Rodrick or the bravery from opening your eyes and looking at him in the first place. But for the rest of the song, you and Rodrick maintained eye contact, making it feel like you were the only ones in the room. You wondered if he knew that the words were written just for him. 

As Hailey played the final chord of the song, letting it ring out, you gripped the microphone a bit nervously. At first, you thought the hard part was finally over. But then you remembered that Rodrick’s reaction was to follow.

“So… what’d you think?” Everyone eagerly awaited Rodrick’s response. Your friends knew about how deep your feelings went for him. And although they’d sometimes make fun of you for it, they were truly rooting for the two of you.

“That was awesome!” Rodrick said, throwing his arms out wide to emphasize his statement. You grinned, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet in excitement. “Whoever you wrote that for is lucky, dude.”

And in an instant, all that excitement and hope diminished. 

“Oh.” You let out a small sigh before clearing your throat. “Oh, yeah, they are. They are lucky.” You could practically feel the pitiful stares of your bandmates. That, accompanied by Rodrick’s now slightly perplexed expression, made you feel uneasy. “Um, I’ll be right back.”

You were out in a flash, running into the house and to the bathroom to hide. Your band watched you disappear before looking back at Rodrick, whose eyes were stuck on the door you had gone through.

“Wow.” Dylan was the first to speak, looking at Rodrick with a raised brow and crossed arms. “I know you’re kinda dumb, Heffley, but this might be a new low.”

“Excuse me?” Rodrick quickly rose from his seat, looking at Dylan, offended and confused.

“Oh, come on, Rodrick. Don’t play stupid.” Hailey said as she set down her guitar. “Who do you think Y/n wrote that song about?”

Rodrick thought about the question for a moment, wracking his brain for an answer but coming up with nothing. He shrugged, hoping that one of your friends would just tell him outright what was going on.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Dylan said. “She only invited one person to this band practice, and she only wanted to play that specific song.”

The look on Rodrick’s face was starting to make your friends wonder if you were better off without him knowing about your feelings. But suddenly, he gasped in realization, looking at each of your friends for confirmation of what he was thinking. When they all nodded, relieved that he was finally starting to understand, he grabbed your slushie from the floor, muttering something about being back in a minute. 

In the bathroom, you were trying not to have a total freak out. You wondered how you could play this off. Although Rodrick wasn’t the brightest, he could be observant and stubborn when he wanted to be. He’d probably ask what was wrong, and if you could convince him that everything was fine, he would probably start asking who you wrote that love song about.

After splashing some water on your face to calm yourself down, you opened the door, only to see Rodrick standing on the other side.

“Jesus!” You jumped in surprise.

“Sorry.” Rodrick laughed nervously. “You, um, you forgot your slushie.”

“Oh, thanks.”

You fell into an awkward silence, standing in the threshold of your friend’s bathroom and slurping down your drink so you wouldn’t have to speak. Eventually, both of you were out of slushies.

“Was that song about me?” Rodrick blurted out, tilting his head in curiosity. You blinked, not expecting that to be the question he would ask. It seemed like he already knew it was.

“That depends,” you said, toying with your straw as you looked down at the ground to avoid eye contact. “Would you still like it if it was?”

Your attention was pulled from your shoes by a hand lifting your head, forcing you to look up at Rodrick. He leaned in to kiss you, just for a quick second, as if he was scared of you freaking out. But you were left in a daze as he pulled back.

“I’d like it a lot more if it was.”

Overwhelmed by what had just happened, you flung your arms around Rodrick and kissed him again. He stumbled back a step but caught you by the waist, kissing back eagerly. The world around you seemed to disappear.

“Ahem.” Slowly and reluctantly, you and Rodrick pulled away from each other to see Steph looking at you amused, Hailey and Dylan standing behind her. “Mom made us all a snack, unless you guys are too busy sucking face.”

“Oh, shut up, Steph.” You said with an embarrassed laugh. Your friends headed to the kitchen, but you and Rodrick slowly trailed behind to sneak a few more kisses to each other.

***

Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit

[anikasheep]

YOUR CATLIKE SHEEP wants your attention The Almighty Three (Lucifer/Diavolo/Solomon)

warnings: mc as your name, fluffy and kissing, don't like don't read

REBLOG AND LEAVE COMMENTS ARE WELCOME!!

COMMON

Today you decide to be alone with him! With your homework, the book you want to read, headphones, charging cable, and DDD, you ask for his permission and enter his room.

Time passes slowly as you write, finish your homework, and read the books you want to read, today’s Devildom is a bit boring, then you look at him on the other desk with a frown on your face.

He doesn’t realize you're looking at him, or even if he does, he doesn't care. He continues to be immersed in the paper in front of him and in his own inner world.

However, you are too bored, so you pick up your headphones and DDD, and come to his seat…

Lucifer

“Lucifer.” You whisper his name.

He gives you a confused glance. The moment he saw you, those irritations and unpleasing seemed to melt. His shoulders relaxed a bit, and his eyebrows didn’t knit together anymore.

“Hmh? What’s wrong, MC? Do you need something?”

You shake your head, and point at his lap.

“Could I lay on your lap, please? I want to be close to you.”

Lucifer raises his eyebrows, and then he slowly nods his head.

“I didn’t expect that you’re that bold, but I don’t have any intention or reason to say no, am I?”

He pats his left thigh, his voice is low and full of seducing and musing.

“Now come here, if my sheep want some attention, who am I to say no to them?”

Be careful, MC. You would get his hand without gloves to keep stroking your hair from time to time.

Lucifer might ask about your opinions so you’re actually the one who needs to pay attention.

He would hum some melody only you two could hear, and those melodies might lull you to sleep.

If you fall asleep, his coat will shelter you, this would make him feel like you’re under his wings, and there’s nothing that would make him feel more satisfied.

Maybe his other brothers would try to sneak into his room, but he’s set a whole spell already so that wouldn’t be that easy. He won’t let his brothers interrupt his time with his sweet little lamb.

Diavolo

He raised his head up before you called his name. The tired smile almost paused you to ask the request you’ve had for a while.

“Aaahh, MC. Can I do anything for you?”

You nod and point at his lap, while you ask him the favor.

“Can I… accompany you like this? I’m too bored and kind of miss you.”

You are both shocked by your blurry, you swear that you saw Diavolo’s pupils turn thinner for a moment but return to normal after you blink your eyes.

He shows you his hearty laugh once again, and then he leans his back onto the back of the chair.

You shift your feet to the other one when he just smiles.

But you feel yourself pulled to a warm and firm chest in the next moment.

The vibrations of his chuckles send to your heart and spread to the whole body.

“My my, look who I’ve found myself. A pure and totally innocent sheep who doesn’t know what they just said to A DEMON.”

Diavolo rests his cheek on the crown of your hair, his left arm engulfs your waist, and his thumb starts stroking the delicate skin through your clothes.

“…Lord Diavolo?” You nibble your lips to attract the urge to wiggle out of his grasp and giggle cause of the tickle feelings.

“I won’t let you feel bored, MC. However, I still have some papers that need me right now.”

Diavolo nuzzles his cheek on your head again, he grins when you move to a comfortable position on his lap, your arms around his neck, your plump lips brushing over his jaw making him shrink and growl lowly.

“Tempt me more, MC. The dance would continue until tomorrow… I assure you.”

Solomon

This sorcerer is too focused on his study to notice you, so you sit beside him simply, find the perfect timing, and lay your head on his lap.

His surprised eyes glanced down at your pouty face and chuckled.

“Are you a cat, MC? Need your teacher’s attention that badly?” His teases didn’t stop the blushing on his face.

“I’m not a cat, but I still want your attention. But don’t mind me, just give me a kiss and keep working.”

He mumbles something before he shares a soft kiss with you.

“So bossy, my apprentice is a boss cat is not what I could expect, but I love them anyway.” ”Heard that and I love you too, my not-a-sheep-but-more-like-a-demon teacher.”

“Heehee, oops. But I’m hurt that you call me not a sheep, now let me attack you by kissing you more.”

“Solomon, aren’t you should finish your report.. umph…”

[miwhotep]

MILVERTON AND HIS NEWSPAPERS

I was wandering a lot about Milverton and his newspapers recently - as the so-called King of Media, he owned several newspapers as Watson also pointed out, probably almost all newspapers in London to gain as much control as he could to manipulate the public opinion. Here, I list the papers (and other media outlets) what got named throughout the series and most likely were connected to him.

First, there was the Heim News Agency what was most likely owned by Milverton. News agencies exist to collect information and to sell it to other media outlets, like newspapers. One of Milverton's newspapers (The Daily Londner) is shown to be edited in that building and the newspaper's editor-in-chief referred to Milverton as the chairman so he logically owned the Heim News Agency and published the made-up truth from the collected information in a way what fit for manipulating the different audiences of the different newspapers.

The Daily Londner was aimed at nobles, as it is mentioned in the manga. That newspaper was supported by the House of Lords, but probably the other reason why its news were written seemingly to please the nobility was also for manipulating them between the lines.

The other newspaper Milverton owned was The Daily Standard. Unlike The Daily Londner's case, it is not explicitly said that The Daily Standard was his - but it was the newspaper what kept showing up during the Jack the Ripper arc where Milverton manipulated the public opinion with the media about the murders and we can also see it right after he explains why he didn't mind to change the already arranged news from Whiteley being a murderer to the Lord of Crime (and interesting to mention that musical-wise, he is shown with the Daily Standard in his hands several times) - so we can suspect that the Daily Standard indeed belonged to him. This newspaper was sold on the street and it was shown to read by commoners (aside from the Moriarties who also read this paper), so the Daily Standard targeted the middle class as an audience.

During the Phantom Arc, we can see in the Daily Standard several times that the Jack the Ripper letter got sent to Central News - just like in reality. Historically, the Central News was infamous for its dubious news so it is fitting to be owned by Milverton in the Yuumori universe. Since he was the one who arranged the entire media manipulation around Jack the Ripper's character - as the revolutionalists hired him - that letter needed to get sent to one of his newspapers, therefore Central News also belonged to him. Since the goal was to create chaos in Whitechapel among the lower class and the letter was sent for that end, which means that the Central News was aimed at the lower class.

This way, Milverton was able to manipulate all social classes through the different newspapers - and not just in London. The Heim News Agency was shown to be the publisher of Britain's major papers and in the anime, we can see other cities named on Milverton's newspaper beside London - other places where they sold the paper - so his media manipulation was present throughout Great Britain.

And not just Great Britain! In the Merchant arc, it is mentioned that he has a branch firm in New York as well - so Milverton's media power was even in the United States!

While I mainly listed newspapers here - but it's good to note that Milverton also owned advertising companies even that those didn't get mentioned in the series further. But marketing is a good tool for manipulation as well, I would have been interested what type of advertisements he made.

[laenordeservedbetter]

Everything Has Changed — Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN!Reader

Summary: When Viserys urges Rhaenyra to marry, the princess storms off to her only place of sanctuary, where you comfort her.

Words: 1k

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Arranged marriage at the end (full circle moment or nah? I don't know), sad Rhaenyra (If I missed anything else, lmk!)

I'm posting this here because my other account isn't showing up in the tags. I have no idea why. This was a request by an anon. This fic can also be found in my other acc!!

not my gif.

—

“—and I have given you my answer, Father! I do not wish to be married off to some lord!” was the angry reply of Rhaenyra. As her sworn sword, standing outside the entrance at all times in case someone seeks to hurt her came with the job. You can feel the vibration coming from Rhaenyra shuffling her feet, pacing around the room as if that will help her prove a point to her father. Given the King’s opinion on the subject, you believe he will not change it for Rhaenyra’s own desires. Viserys can be merciless if the situation requires it.

Viserys makes a movement with both his hands to show his irritation, both of their voices growing higher and higher. Any attempts of warding away eavesdroppers will be nugatory. “EVEN I DO NOT EXIST ABOVE TRADITION AND DUTY, RHAENYRA!”

Rhaenyra wavered. Her father ne’er spoke to her this way. It was another sharp cue that everything has changed. No longer would her father wave off her shenanigans or flash a proud smile her way as she defies his orders. She became his political headache. That’s all he sees her as these previous fortnights. So she storms out of the room, not wanting to bid a proper farewell. She would show him. Rhaenyra would show him that she will make a new order of things. Wait and see, father. Wait and see.

You were not given time to blink when Rhaenyra ran by, only giving a nod in your direction. “Princess Rhaenyra!” You cried out, shoving past your fellow guards who make no attempt to join you in following the princess, making you curse them under your breath along with whoever brought them here. They don’t do their jobs correctly. The only reason they’re stationed in the castle is because of their names. If they weren’t born in such families, they’d have to work as hard as you. To your dismay, ranting won’t get you anywhere; much less change the decree that they will have a higher station. Rhaenyra is the priority here. You cannot allow yourself to get distracted.

“Stop following me, Y/n!”

“It is my duty, Princess! You’re my responsibility!”

In the end, you lost sight of Rhaenyra. With your weighty armor hindering your ability to catch up, you had to skid to a stop. “Where are you, Rhaenyra?” You remove the helmet from your head, propping the metal against the wall. If a thief were to stumble upon it, there would be nothing you can do. You’re willing to take that possibility, however, if it meant boosting your odds of becoming quick enough to pursue the crown princess should she cross your line of sight.

There is a solitary sanctuary that Rhaenyra might be in. This hunch is the greatest theory you have. Besides that, you could not possibly take another guess on Rhaenyra’s whereabouts. You set off to the direction of the Weirwood tree, keeping yourself on high alert.

You were correct in your assumptions.

Rhaenyra sat underneath the tree, eyes puffy and red like the fire Syrax would exhale, except it was much darker. She sees your shadow approaching and sighs.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, hm?” You drop down alongside your lover, cupping her face using your hands gingerly. Rhaenyra places her own hand on top of yours, wordlessly requesting to keep your gentle touch there.

Her eyes close and she holds her breath. “Perhaps my father wouldn’t pressure me for marriage as much if I was born as a son instead. No one respects me because I am not a boy.”

You shift your hand so you could slip it between Rhaenyra’s quivering fingers. Her grip was loose, dissimilar to your firm one. She was half-expecting you to take pity on her. When Rhaenyra sees nothing of the sort, she isn’t sure if she feels relieved or saddened.

“I do, ‘Nyra. I respect you. You are not a son. You are a warrior; everything a ruler should be. It may be the topic of controversy right now, but I know that when you ascend the Iron Throne, you will prove that all the people who doubted you were wrong. It’s only a matter of time, my love. They will see one way or another.”

Most of the internal battle betwixt rationality and the hope inhabiting the princess’s body was put to a stop. Rhaenyra leans her head on your shoulder, unperturbed by the armor still on your body as a result of innumerable instances of her “accidentally” sleeping on your shoulder after a long council meeting. You would try to move her body to her own bed, where she would not wake up with a stiff neck, but she can always tell when you badly attempt at transferring her to the comforts of her silk sheets.

“But that’s not happening today, right?”

You smile sadly, placing a kiss on the top of her head, silver-blonde waves tickling your mouth. “Not today, my love. We can only hope for someday.”

“‘Someday’ is adequate for me.” She said. Rhaenyra has a lot on her mind, but when it comes to you, she has no trouble sharing her thoughts. She wants to tell you everything, ranging from her secrets to the promises she whispers in your ear when she thinks you are asleep. “As long as they are with you, ‘someday’ is bearable. I want you by my side, always.”

“I am your sworn shield, Princess. My order is to stay close by. It would be hard for me to get away from you even if I wanted.” Although you laugh wholeheartedly, it dies in your throat as you see King Viserys in the pathway, staring right at you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, but you knew you had to protect Rhaenyra.

“Shit.” Rhaenyra tenses. “Father, I –”

You could not let her take the fall for this. “It is my fault, Your Grace. Rhaenyra is innocent. She didn’t do anything wrong. I should not have –”

“Save it.” Viserys says, running his hand through his hair (what is left of it, anyway). I should have known, he scolds himself for not being able to spot it sooner. Yours and Rhaenyra’s lingering gazes were more than just friendly gestures. It was romantic! “Rhaenyra is to wed you by spring’s end.”

What in the seven hells?

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hi! Can i ask a request for Aemond, where him and reader have a little daughter and after Lucerys death Daemon sends cheese and blood to kill the baby but in the end they fail, pure comfort/protective Aemond in the end with him being relieved but scared and not wanting to keep his eye off of his daughter

Lucky, Indeed

Request: Hi! Can i ask a request for Aemond, where him and reader have a little daughter and after Lucerys death Daemon sends cheese and blood to kill the baby but in the end they fail, pure comfort/protective Aemond in the end with him being relieved but scared and not wanting to keep his eye off of his daughter

Hi! Sorry it took me a bit to get to this request, thank you for sending it in. I love this idea. I’m team Black, but I love a good angst story, and I love Aemond, so it works out. Honestly, it’s hard to even pick a side, when something as terrible as Blood and Cheese happened. Anyway, that’s beside the point. This is my first Aemond request in a while, so hopefully it isn’t too rusty. I hope you like it, enjoy!

Also, for anyone who wants a full length Aemond fic, I have an Aemond x OC (Aelora Velaryon) that is currently a prologue and six chapters long, about 23K words currently. It’s loosely based off of my fic I wrote for Aemond called Doomsday, which you can find on my masterlist. You also can find the fic that’s in progress there, it’s called We’re Burned For Better. It’s on here, wattpad, and ao3, for anyone who wants to read it on their preferred platform. There’s more info about it on my masterlist if you’re interested!

(Warnings: swearing, blood and cheese, mentions of gore, blood, vague mentions of assault, violence, death, grief, trauma, let me know if i missed anything)

—

After Aegon had been crowned King, Aemond was instructed to give word to the key Lords of the realm, asking that they bend the knee in return for the right price being paid for their fealty. You, being married to Aemond, had to stand by his side as his wife. You couldn’t object, or voice your opinions. 

You had to hold your tongue, while the realm waited to see what the fate of House Targaryen would be. 

That is not to say you entirely approved of the actions the Green’s committed after the death of King Viserys. But it was not your House to meddle in, nor your right to do so. You instead had to wait for your husband’s return, praying that he’d come back with good news. 

When Aemond left on Vhagar to treat with Lord Borros Baratheon, your daughter had just turned two. You were left behind with her, little Saera, who had been named after her predecessor. 

It is said that the former’s first word was “no,” which amused Aemond to no end. She was said to be clever, spirited, and fierce, yet neglected by her parents. The Maester’s recorded that because she was the ninth born child, her siblings came at a higher priority to the King and Queen. 

A feeling Aemond was not unaccustomed to, he himself having been born the second son to King Viserys, who had hoped and prayed for his first boy. By the time Aemond came, the excitement and magic of finally having a son had worn off. 

Knowing all too well what it was like to feel unwanted by your parents, Aemond decreed the day Saera was born that she would never know the feeling. She’d only know love and attentiveness, things you and Aemond were happy enough to give her. Aemond had been worried about becoming a father, that was clear enough to you during your pregnancy. But his worries faded away when he caught his first glimpse of her, his heart swelling at the sight. 

The two had become inseparable since then. 

You often had to come fetch her out of her father’s lap during meetings, scolding him when you’d find the pair of them mucking about in the courtyard, Saera resting atop his shoulders. Where he went, she followed. It was quite a sight to see. The mighty Aemond Targaryen…stone faced and stoic…with a little girl barely out of cloth diapers, teetering behind him as she giggled, following along.

Aemond had never spent more than a few days away from Saera, nor you, since the time you delivered her. Now, he had been charged with a task by his King and the Hand, one of which he had to obey and follow. 

It has been days since he bid you both goodbye, and you anxiously awaited his return.

Knowing Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon, they would never forfeit the crown. Not after the events that led to Aegon being crowned in the first place. They would never bend the knee, especially to a believed to be usurper. 

While Daemon may be quick to anger, however, you knew that Rhaenyra was not. She would act in the interest of the realm, not on her own ambition. It was a shame she had the throne stolen out from under her. 

She’d make for a good Queen. 

For now, you had to wait, and hope, and pray that the rift between the family was somehow mendable. That the war would somehow be over before it started, and no lives would be lost. It was foolish hopes, you knew. 

You understood just how naive you’d been, the day Aemond returned from Storm’s End. 

Vhagar had been spotted in the skies, and Ser Criston had sent word to you, giving you little time to prepare. A handmaiden had just come to take Saera for her bath, leaving you alone to pace back and forth in your chambers. Before long, the door was flung open, and your husband burst in. 

Aemond looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and was certainly as pale as one. 

He reached for you with shaky hands, wide eyed, and you quickly moved to his side. You gripped his hands in yours, making him look you in the eye. 

“What is it? What has happened?”

Aemond looked like he was going to be sick, and he fell to his knees. You looked down at him in shock, quickly dropping to your knees, scrambling to keep him steady. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning. You hurriedly batted his hands away from his eyes, cradling his face in your palms. 

“Aemond? What has happened, you must tell me.”

He looked at you in despair, shaking his head. 

“Lucerys is dead.”

You gasped, pulling your hands away from his face to steady yourself, lowering yourself all the way to the floor. 

“What?”

“Lucerys Velaryon is dead,” he confirmed, putting a permanent pit in your stomach. “Vhagar killed him.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “That can’t be. Aemond, tell me that this is nothing but a cruel joke.”

“It isn’t, Y/N. I couldn’t stop her. Vhagar went after Arrax, she wouldn’t listen to me. Lucerys is gone.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, willing yourself not to be sick. You shakily stood, clutching your hands to your stomach. “Aemond, I can’t…”

Oh Gods, you thought. Rhaenyra. She was probably mad with grief, the poor girl.

He stood up and held onto your forearms, keeping you still. “It will be alright.”

“It won't!” You countered, fighting the tears welling in your eyes. “Luke is a child. Rhaenyra’s child. Her baby boy is dead, she’ll have our heads for this!”

“She won’t–”

“You can’t promise that! Do you truly think there will be no consequences for the death of one of her children? If it were the other way around, if they were the cause of Saera’s death, or one of Helaena’s children…would we not retaliate? Daemon is by her side, Aemond. He won’t let this go, that I can promise you.”

Aemond brought you into his arms, cradling your head into his chest. “I’ll keep you and Saera safe. That, I can promise you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“We have to tell your mother and Aegon,” you said softly, muffled into his shoulder. 

You wrapped your arms tight around his waist, clinging to your husband. Maybe, you thought, if you shielded your eyes in his chest, he’d be able to shield you from whatever may come that would harm you. 

You felt him nod. 

“We will.”

—

In the days that followed, you walked on eggshells around the Keep. You worried for you and your family, as well as Helaena and her children. You worried for the people of King’s Landing, who were not equipped for a siege. The city was on high alert, preparing for the imminent war. 

You half expected Rhaenyra to come on dragonback herself, burning the city down in a fiery rage that would consume you all.

But she didn’t.

You spent days on edge, waiting for her first attack. The ships that docked were showing up with less and less imports, which meant she was planning to cut off some of your supplies. But that was the only retaliation she sent your way. No consequences for the death of her son were met by her justice. You waited anxiously for the day Rhaenyra would return to collect her debt of the life you now owed her. 

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. There was no sign of the Black’s or their army, except for one letter Aegon received from Dragonstone a month after the death of Lucerys. It read,

“Lucerys Velaryon will be avenged. You owe My Queen a debt. I will see to it that it is paid in full. Count your days, and live them well…the next may be your last.” – Daemon Targaryen

When Aegon called you, his family, and the war council to the Throne Room to read it aloud, you had to excuse yourself. You hurried out of the room, barely making it into a side corridor before retching onto the floor. A handmaiden had followed you out, leaving your side before returning momentarily with Aemond hot on her heels. 

“Come, my love,” he said, securing his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you to our chambers, hmm?”

That night, you didn’t let Aemond or Saera out of your sight. The rest of the family did the same, keeping themselves heavily guarded and close together. 

But within the month, nothing had changed. No one had come. More ships arrived in volume to the harbor in the same month, and it seemed as if Rhaenyra had pulled back her fleet from stopping the supply chain. Another month passed, and nothing happened. The city slowly went back to normal, the ports as well.

You weren’t sure how, but you and the family slowly forgot about the events of the previous months. It was always looming in the back of your minds, that was true enough. But it was no longer your main concern, as you all had begun busying yourselves with other tasks. 

It was almost pleasant, spending so much time with Aemond and your daughter every day. The city was still warm, it had yet to succumb to the cold of winter. If you tried hard enough, you could keep yourself from thinking of the real reason why you had been given this time with your family.

But sure enough, your luck ended. 

At the time, you didn’t know who the assassins were. You had come to know in the days that followed. Their aliases were all that was known about the two men, except for their occupations.

Blood was a butcher. He was once a member of the City Watch, but he lost his gold cloak for beating a woman employed by a pleasure house to death while drunk and rageful. Cheese was a ratcatcher, extremely knowledgeable of the hidden tunnels of the Red Keep. They were employed by Mysaria, the White Worm, who was employed by Daemon. 

A promise was a promise, and the Black’s had promised you a death. In the last quarter of the fourth month after Lucerys’s death, Blood and Cheese had come to collect.

It was near dusk, and Aemond was still in a meeting. He had been given more duties upon Aegon’s coronation, and he tended to get caught running late into the evenings with the council. 

It was of no consequence to you. He had spent all day with you and Saera, like he did most days. A few days here and there that he was a little late returning to your chambers in the evening, it was the price you were willing to pay to get him all to yourselves during the day.

You were well occupied as well, bouncing Saera on your hip while walking around your room, trying to tire her out so that she’d sleep through the night.

When she finally calmed, you placed her down in her cradle. She immediately curled up under her covers, making you smile. You walked around the room, closing all the shutters and blowing out all of the candles, before heading to the connecting room to change into your evening clothes.

You undressed and redressed quickly, feeling quite tired yourself. 

When you stepped back into the room, the shutter that you had just closed was open. Confused, you walked over to peer out the window, before reshuttering it again. You figured the wind had blown it open. It was nearing winter, after all.

Still, it chilled the room. 

You decided to inform the guard posted outside your door, who would pass on the information in the morning to someone who could come and fix it. You sighed, walking over to your chamber door and quietly opening it. 

“Ser, if you could–”

The words died on your tongue as you looked down in horror to see your guard crumpled on the floor, his neck snapped.

You opened your mouth to scream, but it was quickly covered by a large hand, one that hastily pulled you back into your room.

“Make a sound and I slit your throat. Don’t test me,” you heard in your ear, making you shakily nod.

You heard the door latch behind you, and felt a blade placed at the base of your throat. A man, seemingly much smaller than the one holding you captive, rushed over to Saera’s cradle, picking her up. 

“No, please–”

“Shut your mouth. Another word before we speak and you’ll face a fate much worse than death. Scream for help, and I promise that your daughter will be dead before anyone can even reach the door.”

Tears sprung in your eyes as you watched the man cradle your daughter, who had yet to wake up. You kept your voices low. 

“I’m Blood,” the man said into your ear, letting you go but keeping the knife pointed at you as he blocked the door. “That’s Cheese.”

“Why are you here?”

Blood smiled, his grin making your stomach turn. “We’re debt collectors. An eye for an eye, a son for a son…or a daughter, in your case. It’s a shame, I can tell she’d turn out to be quite the beauty.”

Cheese nodded, placing Saera back down in her crib. 

“We only want the one, to square things. Unfortunately for you, your husband has been quite naughty. Queen Helaena wasn’t in her chambers with her wee ones…but you were. There’s a price to be paid, and you’ll have to be the one to pay it. We won't hurt you, Milady, not one little hair on your head. Just as long as you cooperate.”

You let out a sob, pleading with them. “Please, just take me! Take me, kill me, do whatever you want, I don’t care. Just let my daughter go.”

“As tempting as that is,” Cheese said, looking you up and down. “We can’t.”

“We have a job to do, Princess. You owe a life,” Blood continued.

You shook your head, crumbling to your knees. “No, please, take me–”

“No can do–”

“Please!” You screamed, sobbing on the floor. 

Blood rushed over to you, pulling you up by your hair. He brought his hand up, backhanding you across the face. You could feel your lip split as his knuckles struck. He placed the blade back on your throat and held you tight to him.

“Another little outburst like that, and I’ll let Cheese here do whatever he wants with you, and then make you kill the girl yourself.”

You closed your eyes tight, bringing your hand to your mouth to stifle another sob. Your heart was aching, and a pit the size of a boulder had settled in your stomach. What would Aemond think? Returning to his chambers only to find his wife in hysterics, and his baby girl, slain in her crib.

“I’ll make it quick, darling, just for you. I’ll even do it in her crib, so she doesn’t have to wake up and see a stranger. She won’t feel a thing,” Cheese said, feigning sympathy.

Suddenly, you remembered. 

“Can I go and say goodbye to her?” You asked, pleading with them to allow you to. “She’s my only child. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t at least ask.”

Please say yes, you thought. Please say yes.

In all your worrying over the past few months, and Aemond’s continued absence in the evenings, you had come up with your own ways to make yourself feel safe. This included training with Aemond during the day in hand to hand combat, just in case you ever had to defend yourself. It included putting Saera to bed yourself every night, shuttering all the windows, and checking on the guard posted at your door nightly.

It also included strapping a knife in its sheath to the underside of Saera’s crib, out of her reach but easily within your own, if you could get close enough. 

The two men pondered the request for a moment, before finally nodding. 

You felt relief pouring through you, and could have collapsed with elation if it weren’t for the task at hand. You rushed over to her crib, kneeling down over it. She was awake now, peering up at you with big violet eyes. 

You blinked the tears away, softly caressing her cheek. “Go to sleep, my sweet girl. I love you.”

You covered her with her blankets, kneeling further to tuck the sheets in. Blood and Cheese watched as you said your goodbyes, grinning at each other. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Cheese said, moving to come get you.

It was a split second reaction. Within another step from Cheese, you had unsheathed the knife, gripping it by the hilt. With all your might, you aimed it at Blood, flicked your wrist, and released it from your hand.

The blade soared across the room, burying itself in Blood’s chest. 

He looked down in shock, slowly pulling the blade from his chest, dropping it. It clanged on the floor as it fell, and Blood crumpled to the floor soon after, landing in a pool of his own blood. You stared in shock, but quickly recovered and stood to your feet, blocking the crib from Cheese’s path.

Your daughter would live.

If someone else was going to die tonight, it wouldn't be her. If it was Cheese, that was all the better. But if you went down, you were taking him with you. He would not leave this room alive. You’d fight tooth and nail to the end, doing everything you could to protect your daughter. 

Cheese finally collected himself, turning to you. “You bitch!”

You nearly grinned, wiping the blood that had seeped out from your lip, stepping into a defensive stance. “In the flesh…come and get me.”

Just as Cheese took another step toward you, the door to your chambers swung open, revealing a disheveled and concerned Aemond. It took him a second to realize what was happening. 

When he finally did, the look on his face was murderous. 

“Ser Criston went to get the Kingsguard. If you think they’ll get here in time to save you from your fate, you are sorely mistaken.”

Cheese froze in fear, shakily reaching for his sword. Aemond snarled, unsheathing his daggers, closing the chamber door behind him. 

“I hope it was worth dying for. It looks like my wife gave your friend a quick end. You won’t be so lucky.”

Cheese moved to back up, but you had already snuck to reach the blade that Blood had dropped. You scrambled over on your knees, stabbing it into the back of Cheese’s thigh. He howled in pain, dropping to his knees. 

“Please, My Prince–”

His words were cut off by a gurgling sound bubbling in his throat as Aemond lodged one of his daggers into Cheese’s chest. He used his foot to kick Cheese to the ground, reaching down to push the blade deeper. Cheese writhed in pain, raising his hands in surrender. 

“Please! You don’t have to do this.”

“Neither did you,” you said, scurrying to stand behind Aemond. “But you did it anyway.”

“It seems as if you didn’t do my wife the courtesy of giving her a choice. Or maybe you did. What was it, hmm? Sacrifice my child or die? Seeing as that isn’t much of a choice, I will extend to you the same courtesy. So, which will it be? Bleed out on the floor while I watch you choke on your last breath, or have me put an end to your suffering by slitting your throat? The choice is yours.”

Cheese cried out in anguish, trying to pull himself away. Aemond seethed, using his other dagger to stab through Cheese’s throat, twisting the blade as it went in. You watched as he choked on his own blood, gasping for breath. 

“I choose suffering,” Aemond said, pulling both blades free from Cheese’s body. “A gift to my wife.”

Blood spurted out from both wounds, and Cheese writhed and groaned on the floor in pain until he finally stilled, going limp. His eyes were still open when he died. Sometimes, you forgot just how cruel your husband could be, at least to everyone but you and Saera. Fiercely protective, though, a quality which you were grateful for. 

When it was all over, Aemond dropped his daggers, quickly turning around to face you. 

You threw your arms around his neck, and he pulled your shaking form into his. You gripped him tight, and he gripped you tighter, if that was even possible. He cradled your head to his chest, gently rocking you back and forth. You took deep breaths, fighting to fill your lungs and keep yourself from hyperventilating. A wave of emotion came over you, and you couldn’t help but to burst into tears, tucking your face into Aemond’s neck.

“Ñuha nēdenka riña,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

My brave girl.

He gently pulled you from his frame, gripping your chin and turning your face from side to side. He grimaced at your split lip and the shape of a hand imprinted on your reddened cheek. 

“Does it hurt?” Aemond asked, face cold and hard.

You ever so slightly shook your head, causing his frown to deepen. 

“You’re lying.”

You sighed, pulling your chin from his grip, looking him in the eye. “Would you rather me tell you the truth? Fill you with guilt? It is not your fault, Aemond.”

“Of course it’s my fault! I wasn’t here.” He breathed deeply, taking a moment. “What happened? Do not lie to me, I’ll know if you do.”

Your shoulders slumped and your heart ached as Aemond looked at you, racked with guilt and anger. You walked over and gently lifted Saera out of her crib, handing her to Aemond. He immediately clutched her tightly to him, cradling her on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, keeping her close as he listened. 

“I had just put Saera to bed. I went to change, and when I came back, the shutters were open again. I figured they were broken and the wind had blown them open, so I went to tell the guard so that he could relay the information to someone who could fix it in the morning. When I opened the door, he was dead on the floor. Before I could move, they covered my mouth and pulled me into the room. Held us at knifepoint, so I wouldn’t make any noise.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he listened, a fury pooling in his chest. Should have killed him slower, he thought.

You continued. “They said their names were Blood and Cheese, and that they’re debt collectors. They said I owed a life, because of what you did…and if I didn’t give up Saera, they’d kill me, or worse.”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you spoke, your voice thick with emotion. Aemond tried not to falter at the sight. He couldn’t help it. Your tears struck him like an arrow through the heart.

“They promised they wouldn’t hurt me if I cooperated, but I angered them. Blood struck me, and made me choose. I remembered I had strapped the knife to Saera’s cradle, so I asked if I could say goodbye to her. They agreed, and I got to the blade. I killed Blood with it, just like you taught me. You came in right after.”

Aemond closed the gap between you, bringing you to his chest. He held you and Saera to him just as Ser Criston returned with a slew of guards. 

“Are you alright, My Lady?”

You could only nod, finding shelter in Aemond’s arms. You could faintly hear him explain to Ser Criston what happened, but you weren’t listening. You could only focus on slowing the beat of your heart, and making sure your daughter was alright. Aemond kept you tightly clutched to him, not letting you out of his sight.

—

In the days that followed, you could hardly leave a room without Aemond being hot on your trail. He had practically become your shadow.

Aegon and your family had been quickly informed of what occurred in your chambers, leaving the council to decide amongst themselves what the next course of action should be. You told them to leave you out of it until they came to a decision. 

You tried your hardest to understand the reasoning behind it. It no doubt had been an act Daemon thought of himself. You couldn’t bring yourself to blame Rhaenyra. She had to have been mad with grief, not truly paying attention to the justice her husband decided was fair.

The attack wasn’t even meant to harm you. Evidently enough, the Black’s blamed Aegon for Lucerys’s death. They wanted to hurt him, not you. It was Blood and Cheese who decided amongst themselves that you and Saera were compensation enough for Luke’s death.

Either way, it showed you and Aemond just how ugly this war could get.

Saera was with you at all times, Aemond not far behind. He kept his duties limited, never leaving you without him or guards for long. You were grateful for it, at first. You feared being alone, paranoid that someone was lurking in the shadows. But your fears eased over time.

Aemond’s didn’t.

He wouldn’t speak of that night, not after you told him all you could remember. Maybe he thought he was protecting you. Doing you a kindness, not wanting to bring up painful memories. But it did you both no good.

You could tell it was eating away at him. He was just too stubborn to do anything about it.

He would never tell you, but he was so anxious ever since that night that he nearly made himself ill every day. He awoke every morning feeling like he would be sick if he didn’t keep you and Saera close. There was a permanent pit in his stomach, one he couldn’t seem to rid himself of. And there was a rage brewing inside, so strong that it scared even him.

It took him a month to finally ease up, and give you a little space. 

He made sure you and Saera were always protected, but he gave you your freedom to have some time to yourself. If you thought Aemond spent too much time with your daughter before, you couldn’t have been more wrong. He spent practically every waking minute with her, determined to be the one to keep her safe. 

Saera loved it, of course. She was her father’s daughter. She loved you, too, but there was no denying she favored Aemond. She adored him more than anyone else in the whole world. He loved her just as much, and even more so.

You didn’t mind. You had enough love for the both of them. 

After a month and a half, you decided enough was enough. You would not be ruled by fear, and you most certainly would not let it control your family.

One evening, you asked your handmaiden if she would take Saera for her bath. Under guard, of course. You were willing to let her out of your sight, but never willing to leave her vulnerable. That was something you thought Aemond would agree on. 

Soon after she left, Aemond entered your chambers, immediately scanning the room. “Where’s Saera?”

“She went for her bath. I sent her with Jeyne. Ser Arryk is on guard with them.”

Aemond looked uneasy, but nodded, setting his things down. You gave him a sad smile, opening your arms. 

“Come sit with me, please.”

He looked close to refusing, but finally relented. He sat at the foot of your bed, removing his boots and belt. You crawled to sit behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head in the middle of his back. He stiffened, and then sighed, easing under your touch.

“I want you to talk to me,” you muttered into his shoulder.

Aemond hummed. “About what?”

You pressed yourself closer to him, circling your thumb on his waist. 

“You know what.”

He nodded, keeping his gaze pointed towards his lap. “Alright, then. I’m listening.”

“I know you still feel guilt,” you started, keeping your tone soft. “And you harbor rage, and resentment…I wish you wouldn’t.”

He scoffed, chuckling. “How could I not?”

“Because it’s not your fault.”

Your words were sincere, but he wouldn’t accept them. He couldn’t bring himself to believe you. 

“My wife had to defend herself and my child against two assassins who tried to make her pay for a crime she did not commit, so pray tell, how is it that I am not the one to blame?”

You shook your head, twisting to sit next to him. “Look at me.”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes, and you grabbed his hands in yours, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Ñuha jorrāelagon, jurnegon rȳ nyke. Kostilus, Aemond. Jaelan naejot ūndegon ao.”

My love, look at me. Please, Aemond. I want to see you.

His voice was soft, and when he finally looked up, you could see tears brimming in his eyes. “Nyke ȳdra daor jaelagon ao naejot ūndegon nyke, ñuha jorrāelagon. Daor hae iksan.”

I don’t want you to see me, my dear. Not as I am.

You cupped his face in your palms, your words firm. “I want to see you as you are, no matter how that is. You won’t talk to me, Aemond. It’s been so long. I miss your voice, I miss your laughter. Don’t shut me out. Tell me what’s on your mind, I don’t care if it’s callous.”

He brought his hand up to cover yours, leaning his cheek into your palm. He was quiet a moment before he found the words.

“I thought I lost you. I thought I lost the both of you.”

You sighed, running your thumb across his cheekbone. “Darling…”

“When I returned to our chambers and found the guard murdered, I thought I would open the door and see you slain, as well. You, and Saera. Having paid the price for something that I did.”

“But you didn’t,” you said, quickly shaking your head. “You saved us. When you opened the door…I’ve never felt anything like it. Relief doesn’t even begin to explain it. I knew I was safe, I knew Saera and I would be alright.”

“You’d have been alright and never in danger in the first place if it had not been for my actions.”

“You couldn’t have known, Aemond. It was an accident.”

“Accident or not,” he said, voice cracking. “It almost cost me my girls. If you were hurt, it would have been blood on my hands. It is blood on my hands.”

There was a knock at the door, and your handmaiden entered your chambers, holding Saera. You stood, making your way over to them.

“Here you go, Princess,” she cooed, placing Saera in your arms. She nodded to you, excusing herself before she left. “Ser Arryk is just outside, My Lady. My Prince.”

You thanked her, waiting till the door was shut before you turned back around. Aemond looked ashamed, reluctant to meet your gaze. Saera stirred in your arms, incoherently babbling. 

“Kepa,” she suddenly said, pointing.

Father.

You smiled, bouncing her on your hip. “That’s right, darling. Kepa. Do you want to tell your Father goodnight?”

She eagerly nodded, reaching for Aemond. You chuckled, walking her over to Aemond, placing her in his lap. Saera babbled, clutching his shirt in her little fists. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she leaned forward to rest against his chest.

“Clearly, someone’s missed you,” you mused. “She isn’t the only one.”

Aemond looked up at you, his face softening. You took his free hand in yours, interlacing your fingers. 

“She doesn’t fear you, Aemond. She doesn’t fear anything. Not when she has you to protect her, and she knows you will…I know you will. I don’t worry for my or her wellbeing, not when I’m with you. But I do worry for your wellbeing, because you won’t talk to me. I know your feelings plague you. You’re free to share them with me, whenever you like. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter. I’m your wife, and I’m here to listen.”

Aemond couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How can she not blame me, he thought. How did I get so lucky? You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, laying your head against it. He rested his head on top of yours, sighing in relief.

“You’re perfect, aren’t you?” He asked, his voice laced with humor. “The Gods must have made a mistake, gifting you to me. How unfortunate for them.”

“How unfortunate, indeed,” you agreed, settling into his side. “They seem to have misplaced you. Quite lucky, for me. I didn’t even have to earn you.”

“You’ve earned far more than me, darling. Far more. Quite lucky for me, I’d say.”

You hummed, not being able to stop yourself from smiling. From the sound of his voice, Aemond was smiling as well. 

“I’d consider us both lucky, then,” you decided, you and Saera melting into Aemond’s arms. He only hummed.

“Indeed.”

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry this took so long to get out. I went a little overboard, but I just loved this request. I hope you liked it, let me know what you think!

[reading-hub]

What about headcannons when in a relationship with Skeleton Daddy and Albedo (seperated) ✨✨🥺

my first overlord request 😳 It took me a while cause I couldn’t think of anything for Albedo at the time.

I am SO sorry I took so damn long 😓

Ainz is a bit of a unpredictable one(not really) when it comes to being apart of a relationship.

It really depends on the significant other on how he’ll behave.

If your an npc that was created by him or perhaps his guild friends. He’s gonna feel shameful.

At first, he sees your flustered demeanor and small flirting as admiration for him. The Floor Guardians compliment him all the time, so he takes your light flirting as a token of praise that he’s just used to. You’re gonna have to be pretty bold in order to get his attention.

If you’re dating him as the mysterious black knight in armor, Momonga, then it’s…a little complicated. Originally, he was only dating you to get intel on the world him and the floor guardians ended up in. But then his cold unfeeling heart suddenly felt something for the first time when he started thinking about you

He started feeling…things. He suddenly had this protective instinct whenever the mention of your name came up.

He brushed it off as his way of thinking of recruiting you into becoming apart of Nazarick Perhaps maybe your abilities may have some use to him in the long run…

Or perhaps he wanted to keep you close to him. He knew how brutal and cruel this fantasy world was. He’s met temporary companions and good hearted people, only for them to die the next day. But, he didn’t feel anything when they died. But you, he’d actually feel…guilt, if that were to happen to you

He keeps tabs on you. No exceptions. Albedo will be crazed with jealousy, definitely. So it might be best if you don’t meet her by yourself 😳 bring Lord Ainz or one of the floor guardians with you at all times

When you’re finally official, he’ll have you dressed as his queen. You find him seeking out your opinions and point of view a lot more than you realize.

He’s found himself to be a giver rather then a receiver. He’s already so used to being praised by his floor guardians and being feared by others below him. It’s tiring. He wants to pamper, praise his queen and be the one to kneel for once.

Although it’s hard to get used to Ainz giving orders and then praising you the next minute as he caresses the skin on your body. You would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on…

Ainz is very gentle with you. He knows how powerful he is. He thinks he might break you if not careful. Quick gentle touches and sweet praises in your ear from behind are his love language.

Albedo is a wildcard.

Although she’s was programmed into falling in love with Lord Ainz, she’s felt a tight feeling in her chest as of recently.

A warmth feeling of care and affection would show up whenever she saw you.

She’s honestly confused how she feels the exact same way of love and admiration for you as she does with her Lord. It’s almost gonna tear her apart!

Did you hex her or gave her some sort of love potion? Yes, that must be it! How else can she find her mind wander about you instead her supreme lord!!! (You live in her mind rent free lol)

You have to be a patient with her as she will jump to all the wrong conclusions.

But as she listens and continues to talk with you, it all makes sense to her and she found herself wanting to know more..

She loves the long conversations that last till midnight with you. She never thought she see herself laughing and giggling so much from just spending time with you.

She loves your calm presence. You’re the only few in her eyes that makes any sense in this castle. Besides Lord Ainz of course.

You make her feel comfortable and relaxed. You make her almost forget about her duties as a floor guardian. Almost.

She was so relaxed that she took a nap and laid her head on your lap. You were scared about even moving just a small bit and worried she’ll wake up and try to kill you.

But to your shocked, she didn’t.

She rose her head up slowly, stared into your eyes, and thanked you for letting her rest up on you. Before you could even reply back, she nuzzled her face into your right cheek softly, grazing her lips around the shell of your ear before pulling back with a sly smile…

Was she trying to kiss me..?

Albedo was actually a little shy when it came to soft intimacy.

Nuzzles and nose kisses were first base with you two love birdies <3

You didn’t mind slowing down for her. You thought it was cute if anything. You enjoy spontaneously kissing her lips and seeing her reaction be a mixture of blushing nervousness to giggly high school girl. It never got old.

Once she got used to the random spontaneous kisses from you. She decided to turn the tables on you for once and wanted to do the same

She’d kiss the back of neck as you were busy with cleaning up the main floor and smacked your ass for good measure to keep you in line. Now whose the one blushing now hmm??

Albedo’s love language is just 1-upping each other to see who blushes the most and who gets to pegged at the end. Amazing 😮‍💨

Not so amazing if you’re the other floor guardians who have to see you two being lovey-dovey with each other haha

Ainz doesn’t care. He’s secretly rooting tho and likes to see you two be happy. 🫶

[sanfangirl-cynicalromantic]

HiccstridWeek2024 Day 2: Oh Lord, I Think About Jumping Off Of Very Tall Somethings

Happy @httydhiccstridweek everyone! Today's prompt is "to fly or to fall"

Summary: “It’s just like flying,” he insisted.

“Not really,” she argued, mostly for the sake of arguing. “It’s just falling slower and slightly less dangerously.”

“Less dangerously,” Hiccup repeated like that was somehow going to gain a point in his favor.

“You could avoid that danger altogether by not jumping off your dragon, but no!” She was starting to lose her patience.

Astrid's opinion of Hiccup's flightsuit changes over the years.

Read on AO3

“No,” Astrid seethed. Her arms were crossed and she  glared disapprovingly at her friend.

“C’mon,” he wheedled, his voice almost a whine. “You can see I’ve improved already! Just a few more adjustments and -”

“You’re grounded,” Astrid snapped. “And I will take that thing away from you if I have to.” Hiccup grumbled but Toothless, who was done with catching the young man, smacked the back of the human’s head with his tail.

“Ow! Okay, fine, you traitor reptile,” Hiccup relented. “But I’m keeping the Dragonfly II.”

~

“Hiccup, no,” Astrid pleaded with the boy as he stood on top of another cliff, the wind blowing strongly around them and almost whipping his skinny frame from side to side. She wasn’t doing that much better, but at least she was holding on to Toothless.

“You’ve already seen this work,” Hiccup argued. “This thing literally saved me from being paralyzed by a Speed Stinger! How- how could you still not approve?”

“Because I don’t like you recklessly throwing yourself off of tall places just for fun!” Astrid cried. What if he got seriously hurt? “You could -” she broke off. He could die. And she would live with her cowardice of not confessing her feelings for the rest of her life. “It’s dangerous,” she finished lamely. Hiccup’s smile softened.

“It’s just like flying,” he insisted.

“Not really,” she argued, mostly for the sake of arguing. “It’s just falling slower and slightly less dangerously.”

“Less dangerously,” Hiccup repeated like that was somehow going to gain a point in his favor.

“You could avoid that danger altogether by not jumping off your dragon, but no!” She was starting to lose her patience.

“It’ll be fine; I promise,” he assured her. Astrid rolled her eyes affectionately.

“That’s not-”

“Watch!”

“Wha- No!”

He flung himself off of the cliff and Astrid cursed and climbed onto Toothless’s back.

~

“Huh, nice place,” Astrid greeted him, looking around the small island. Hiccup turned to her, smiling, as she pushed her hood back out of her eyes. He knew she disliked the way her hood sometimes blocked out her peripheral vision; she was always uncomfortable when her vision was impeded.

“We’ve named it ‘Crash Landing,’” he told her dryly. She smirked and sauntered over to him, hands automatically brushing over his shoulders, searching for telltale signs of injury, noting the newest scratches and brushing off some dirt.

“How?” she asked quietly, her eyes concerned but with a hint of mirth. Hiccup sighed, submitting to her teasing before she’d even started.

“Toothless was solo flying and I didn’t give him enough warning for that rocky ledge up there,” he pointed. “So . . .” he trailed off and shrugged his shoulders in that exaggerated, overly-dramatic way of his. Astrid chuckled as she followed his line of sight, then frowned as her gaze snapped back to him. She reached out to feel one of his leather flaps and Hiccup winced even before her eyes met his.

“It wasn’t that bad this time, okay. Besides, you don’t mind it anymore-”

“I know there’s no point in getting you to stop,” Astrid corrected. “I don’t like it, though.”

“It’s really great. I mean, remember how much you loved the first time I showed you flight? This is even better.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Less potential for sneaking in a cuddle.”

“Oh, that's what you want, huh?" Hiccup grinned. "C'mere," he wrapped her up between her arms, the way she liked when it was just the two of them and she took a secret delight in his ability to engulf her while she let down her emotional armor.

Astrid shifted a little bit to get more comfortable and lay her head on his shoulder to look up at his face. "Don't think being all mushy with me is going to get you out of trouble, mister."

“Admit you like it.”

She rolled her eyes.

~

It had been a couple days since he had been crowned chief, and Hiccup was just itching for an hours-long flight with Toothless. He felt the overwhelming responsibilities of the chiefdom weighing and suffocating him, until all he wanted to do was throw away the fur mantle Gobber had given him - Stoick had ordered it a few weeks ago in preparation for “The Big Talk” - and take to the skies, never to return. Not that he would do that, of course. He wouldn't dare. But it was a tempting thought.

“Hiccup!” a voice called and he felt a grin involuntarily spring to his lips at the sound of her cheery voice. His betrothed walked through the open door of his hut, eyes brightening as she saw him.

“You’re in your flying suit,” she noticed.

“I, uh, yeah. I just-” Astrid  sighed.

“I’ll handle things while you take a break,” she offered him a smile. Hiccup brightened.

“Really?”

“As much as I disapprove of what you’re going to do in that walking death-trap-”

“Hey! It worked,” Hiccup shot triumphantly, wagging a finger. “It saved me my other leg. And more.” At least he hadn’t lost any more limbs along with his father. Astrid wrapped her arms loosely around his waist and nuzzled into his chest.

“I guess so,” she conceded.

“I’ve practically mastered-”

“Now hold on,” she interrupted, raising her head so she could fix him with a stern look. “Just because you managed it once does not mean you’ll get it every time.”

“Guess I better practice, then,” Hiccup replied cheekily. Astrid shook her head in mock weariness.

“I walked right into that one,” she admitted. The chief lit up with a new idea.

“Actually, we should all have flightsuits!” he exclaimed, his mind suddenly whirling with designs and calculations.

“What? Whoa, there, dragon boy,” she tried to soothe him. “I said ‘take a break,’ not ‘find another huge project to obsess over.’”

“I’m not hearing a no to adding a flightsuit as part of a rider’s gear.”

“Tell you what,” Astrid said, stroking his chest with light fingers. “You take Toothless out for a ride, come home, take a nap, and then we can discuss this.”

“You drive a hard bargain, milady,” Hiccup grinned. “I love you,” he added, pressing a hard kiss to her hair.

“Love you too,” she said softly.

~

“So?” he asked proudly after Stormfly had brought her up. “Pretty amazing, huh.”

“Totally different than riding a dragon," Astrid panted, holding a hand over her abdomen. She was in excellent shape, of course, but flying in a straight line downwards required more core strength than one expected. "It was thrilling, though."

“You like it!" Hiccup gloated. "Right?" Astrid detected a note of vulnerability in his voice that she hadn't heard in a while. His flightsuit was one of his favorite inventions, and Astrid had never  taken to it the way he had, but -

Astrid's face softened. "I do," she nodded. “Not as much as you do, but I can see the use for it . . . and the fun. Not enough fun to convince me to jump off of our dragons as a date or anything," she warned. “But yeah, I like it. Just, maybe keep it a secret from the twins a little longer?"

“Oh, I will," Hiccup nodded urgently. "No need to give them these things any sooner than we need to."

“We should armor them, if possible," Astrid said. If they were going to use Hiccup's Dragonfly-the-whatever-number-it-was-by-now edition, she'd make it as safe and practical as she could. "If they're going to be fully fledged flightsuits for battle, we might as well incorporate protection."

“I like that idea," Hiccup agreed, buoyant at her approval.

~

She had lost track of how long they had stood there. The sun had already set, but she had not yet acquainted herself with the rise and fall of the sun with this new land: the elevation was different and they were further west . . . aaand she was starting to sound like Hiccup. She picked her head off of his shoulder to look at him, and the movement caught his eye. He gave her a sad smile, looking out over the cliff and back at her again. They were the last people still standing by the edge.

She shifted and wordlessly began to help him hop towards the village. There was no one around to call for help, and she knew Hiccup hadn’t gotten around to unpacking his other legs, so they made their way painfully to his tent.

As she set him down on a cot and rummaged through one of his chests, she felt the heaviness begin to crush her and knew she wouldn’t be able to muster up the energy to leave. She’d stay with the chief tonight. At this point, no one would mind.

“Here,” she said quietly, handing him a prosthetic. Hiccup accepted it and laid it beside the cot. Astrid kicked off her boots and began to slowly remove her armor, leaving her in her undershirt and leggings.

“Hey,” she crawled over to him and cupped his cheek. “Take this off for me?” her fingers trailed down to his shoulder where his armor had been ripped. Hiccup shook himself out of his lethargic stupor and began to numbly remove his armor. She reached her arms out to help him, careful of his broken makeshift wings, trying her best not to tear the leather further and avoid the sharp metal rods. “We’ll have to fix this,” she said conversationally, her mind already compiling a list of things to do tomorrow. “I believe Krone thought he saw some minerals somewhere off to the north and we could send some miners to check for ore so we can fix these-”

“No,” Hiccup interrupted, harsher than she expected. “I’m not fixing it.” Astrid frowned.

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to,” he said sulkily.

“Oh don’t give me that, I can rarely get you out of this thing,” she retorted. Her voice softened. “What’s up, Hiccup?”

He glared at her but there was no real heat. “I just - It was stupid of me to be flying on my own when I - could have been flying with Toothless. Now-” he broke off and hung his head. Astrid’s face melted into pained sympathy.

“Hey," she said gently, crouching before him until he met her eye again. "There's no need to blame yourself for that. None of us saw this coming, and in the end, these saved our dragons," she motioned to his flightsuit and then hers, specks of blood marring the bright blue of her girl's scales.

“Maybe," Hiccup muttered. Astrid straightened as she accepted his defeat. "But I won't fix it anyway. You never liked it and it's not like we have dragons to catch me anymore." Astrid drew a sharp breath and Hiccup winced. Too soon.

“I - I mean - I'm sorry, that was -"

“You're not wrong," she cut in, adopting the unfunny humor. "I'll be glad to see the end of you jumping off of dragons to sacrifice yourself." There must have been an imperceptible wobble in her voice because Hiccup's face cleared and he shifted guiltily.

“You, uh, you saw that, huh?" he laughed nervously. "Great." Astrid's face crumpled and she buried it into his bare shoulder.

“It didn't - you almost didn't - I saw you-"

“I'm sorry," he repeated.

He had thought of her as he was falling to his death in his useless flightsuit. He had been ready to die - he was always far more ready to die than people realized, but as Grimmel tore blindly at his armor as he dragged Hiccup to die along with him, the chief had found himself mourning the loss of Astrid. He had never made her his wife. Not officially. And he knew they hadn't gotten married because Astrid didn't want to yet, but he also knew Astrid didn't want to because she was waiting on him. And he had never been worthy.

“This thing's going to kill you one day," she had snapped, pleading with him countless times. And he had never listened, secure in his and Toothless's infallibility, and now it had finally gotten him killed.

The Light Fury had been a godsend, and though part of him almost wished she hadn't caught him and forced him to make the decision to split with the dragons, he had vowed to himself to make this the last time he fell to his death.

He saw the sadness and fear in Astrid's face right now. She had always taken on protecting him personally in response to Hiccup's recklessness.

“I'm still here," he stroked the top of her head softly. He was still here and she could still protect him. "I won't do it again. Will you - will you forgive me?" Astrid nodded and then hesitated. She punched him swiftly.

“Don’t do it again,” she warned.

“I deserved that,” he wheezed. “Are you . . . okay?” he checked. Astrid sighed as she thought about her answer.

“I will be. I mean, it hasn’t sunk in yet. Right now I think I’m fine. I’ve been away from Stormfly before so I think it’ll take a while before I really, you know. . . It’s like Snoggletog, just, without them . . . coming back.” Hiccup’s face morphed from compassion to panic.

“Astrid, what if I made the wrong decision? What if everybody hates me? Did I just leave Berk vulnerable? This was stupid, I’m not-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Astrid interrupted, glad to refocus on Hiccup’s feelings instead of her own. “Hiccup, we just moved an entire island, have begun building a village, found the Hidden World, and won a war in a matter of days. What you need now is sleep.” She pressed her forehead against his. “You’ve done the best you can. Everyone agrees that they think this place is better than Berk anyway. Just rest.”

“I love you,” Hiccup said tiredly as he gathered her in his arms. They slowly lay down on the cot and Astrid fixed a blanket over them, tucking Hiccup securely in so his tossing and turning wouldn’t get too out of hand while she was asleep. She tucked her head under his chin and ignored the lone tear that fell on her hair. They fell asleep slowly, drifting off with the uncanny absence of their dragons’ breathing.

~

“You . . . you really want to do this?” Hiccup checked.

“I really do,” Astrid affirmed. She pulled a little self consciously at her armored skirt and checked the leather flaps along her arms. Her old flightsuit hadn’t seen any action for two years, but the chieftess wanted to feel the feeling of flying she had been missing so acutely.

She had come across Hiccup’s damaged flightsuit when she was sorting through the storage that had accumulated. She loved her husband, really, but she couldn’t believe how much clutter the chief had stuffed in a room and forgotten about. To think Gobber had just complimented him on his responsibility and organization!

She had run her finger along the torn seams, delicately tracing the night fury scales as memories of Hiccup’s wistful staring off into the horizon and her pleading with him not to use his stupid Dragonflies over the years. She remembered the pang she had felt when she finally accepted the flightsuit as a useful piece of equipment and saw how her approval had meant so much more to him than she’d thought.

Hiccup had reinstated the Regatta at New Berk and found ways to modify the boats and sails to make them faster. Eret still won every year, but Hiccup had come to appreciate the sea foam splashing in his face and the cool wind whipping his hair around. And Astrid certainly appreciated the new muscle growth her husband had gained alongside his sailing prowess. But despite his delight in standing at the bow of the boat, nothing could compare to the unique swooping sensation of flying. So Astrid had brought the suit to Gobber and they had secretly patched it up, for Gobber kept all of Hiccup’s notes dating from back when the Haddock had been twelve. The blacksmith was far more sentimental than most realized.

Hiccup had stuttered until his eyes filled with tears when she presented his old but improved flightsuit and declared she wanted to go cliff diving for their second marriage anniversary.

So here they were, on the cliff: the cliff they had jumped off all those years ago to fly to Grimmel and take on his whole damn fleet of ships. Her husband checked all of his flaps and straps yet again and secured his helmet, glancing at Astrid but knowing better than to try to check her equipment for her. She turned to smile at him, seeing past his fussiness to his underlying nervousness.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she asked softly. Hiccup gave her a sheepish smile that softened into that stupid smile that made her blush every time. The smile that meant ‘you’re so perfect’ or ‘what did I do to deserve you’ or ‘you have no idea how much I love you.’ It was her favorite smile that she caught all the time during the most mundane things: in between council meetings, when she was helping him plan and distribute duties for the next day, or even when she kissed him when she got home in the evenings. She smiled her own special smile at him in return, her ‘of course I know you better than yourself and would do anything for you smile’ and offered her hand.

“C’mon,” she laughed and pulled him to the edge. Eventually they broke out into a run, hooting like they had done back when they were still seventeen. Her mother was standing off to the side, rolling her eyes fondly at the two rulers of New Berk acting like hooligans and Gobber had his spyglass out, tracking Eret’s boat that was on the water, ready to pick them up when they landed. Astrid began to pull ahead, only a few feet from where the land dropped off and-

They jumped.

And it was like flying.

[azzyisepik]

— DAY 18 ; NOCHE DE ESPECTÁCULO —

For this day of Mes De Los Tres Caballeros, I didn't have much motivation to draw, so take this story instead!! I haven't written in a while, but I decided to write this story not only for fun, but to also save myself some time so I can also start drawing some personal things, rather than things catered to the event.

The night sky was hypnotic, the way the stars would stand so still yet somehow look as if they were dancing to a melody, and ah, the way the moon robbed the sun of it's glory, shining oh so bright from stolen light. It was beautiful, it was almost like you'd been caught in a trance.. Oh, to not love or at least admire the talent the world produced once it hit 12:00 am, it’d be a crime!

.. Then call Panchito a criminal. Panchito was never a fan of the night, he found it boring — how everyone was so silent, how the darkness made it hard to travel with his beloved horse, Señor Martinez. The night wasn't a gift, it was a BURDEN. And he'd never find himself batting an EYE at that moon, that selfish globe that so rudely took the sun’s work and got all the credit. And those stars? Those stars were nasty little gremlins, following the moon’s order like the minions they are! Yes, Panchito couldn't STAND night. So why in God’s name was he out at this time?

Panchito was sitting on the cold grass, alone, staring at the ground. He refused to look up, he couldn't, it'd be too painful, especially with the news he had just received. The temperature of the turf felt like it was attacking his tail feathers, mainly because each time he tried to rest them onto the greenery it was like the sward attempted to freeze him. However, the rooster didn't really care at this point. Slowly laying down, he let the cold embrace of the lea affect him, closing his eyes, still in distress.

He pondered to himself — how? How on Earth could somebody live such a happy, long full filling life and then just pass away like that? And not only HOW, but WHY? Why did God make these decisions and why did he, of all people, have to suffer the consequences? He didn’t understand. It hurt him, it hurt him so much that he couldn’t even bare to think about it, yet here he was.

A small, yet somehow so impactful tear went down his cheek. Brushing against his feathers, tears started to uncontrollably roll down, and at this point, he couldn't stop. He silently cried to himself, the once so loud rooster was now lonesome, sobbing in a quiet environment and for once in his life, he matched that environment. Why? Why did the Lord above take away the one person who he loved the most,

Why did his mama have to leave so soon?

shedding tears with his eyes closed to refrain from gazing upon the sky and, in his opinion, it's disgraceful stars, he hadn’t even realized that a familiar duck was approaching him.

Donald quietly walked over, trying not to alert his weeping boyfriend. Staring down at him, he wondered if he should sit down with him. Sighing, the white fluffy waterfowl crouched down and laid beside the red rooster.

“ Mind if I join? ”

He asked with a soft, tender tone in his voice. Panchito opened his eyes, immediately staring at his boyfriend, trying not to look at the sky. He didn’t want to pay any mind to it at all, he hated it and it hated him. Well, at this time, at least. Panchito wiped his tears, trying to act as if nothing had happened, automatically acting all giddy and energetic, as one would say.

“ Ah, Mi Corazon! What are you doing up so late? Should you not be sleeping with Zé? ”

Donald put on a grumpy face, not falling for this facade.

“ Chito, you can be honest with me. ”

“ What do you mean? I'm fi- ”

“ You can be honest with me, Chito. ”

Said Donald in a stern voice, he wasn’t going to let his partner bottle up his emotions, oh he wouldn’t even DARE. And so, he awaited for a response after a long pause.

After a few seconds, the silence came to an end, with Panchito finally giving in.

“ .. Am I that obvious? Well, I suppose I cannot exactly hide it from you, no? Ah.. I’m just.. what’s the word, hm? Torn, I guess. Denial, perhaps, but I cannot accept it, patito. She.. She was so young. Happy, HEALTHY, even. So why? Why did she have to leave? Was I simply not good at taking care of her? Did I not do a good job? I just.. Why?? That’s the question, Donald, and it's not even rhetorical, yet I’ll never receive an awnser. ”

Panchito said. He really was torn, as he described, he had no idea why his mother had to die like that. Why she had to leave the face of this earth, why she disappeared. It pained him so much to know that he couldn't even be there when it happened, that he couldn't even be there to support her.

“ Well.. Listen, man, the first thing you gotta know is that it isn’t your fault. You don’t have the money to go back to Mexico right now, we all don’t have money to go where we need to go to right now. You can’t control what happens and you can’t control anyone’s fate, there’d be no difference if you were there. In the end, she still would’ve died. ”

“ But you do not understand, Donald, maybe I could’ve helped her — she was sick, I could’ve at least- ”

But before Panchito could even finish his sentence with tears streaming down his face, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“ Hey, if it makes you feel better in any way, she isn’t really gone, is she? ”

Panchito stared at Donald, an expression of confusion yet almost anger began to form on his face.

“ Look, up there. ”

He pointed to the sky, the one thing Panchito had sworn to avoid.

“ She’s there now. She may be dead, but she isn’t gone. Because now, she’s simply just the stars. And not even the stars, she’s everything up there. The moon, the blue inky abyss.. Even the clouds, on a foggy night. That’s all her. You just gotta remember that. ”

Suddenly, everything Panchito was trying to avoid started to feel more.. appealing to him. Comforting, even. He gazed upon the stars, and stared at the moon, and now, it seemed to him as if the moon wasn’t ROBBING the sun, but rather borrowing it’s light. Taking turns during their show, and working together, like a team.

“ ¿Los Estrellas, ah? ”

“ Yeah. ”

“ .. Yo veo. ”

Everything around Panchito started to change, and now, for some reason, the night sky had brought him a feeling of warmth, rather than hatred. It was no longer a burden to him, and it didn’t feel selfish anymore. It eased him.

“ Ella es hermosa. ”

THE END

[badbedforbedding]

@riana-one My answer got too big to fit the comments section, but here it is.

I asked you what did Rheagar do to his wife and children, and you said:

"Nationally humiliating his pregnant wife."

You are saying that Rhaegar "showing favor to/sleeping with" Lyanna while being married caused Elia to be seen or talked about as if she is not good enough but literally no one ever describes Elia as being lesser than Lyanna on account of what happened, no one describes Elia negatively at all. Elia is not remembered in any way unfavorably to her image, honor or worth.

I know cheating is a thorny subject and people have their own feelings about it but there is no textual proof that Elia might have felt humiliated or hurt by whatever happened between R/L.

You're assigning these feelings onto her, it's just your personal opinion of how you think she should feel. Call it a theory, a headcanon or whatever, still; we don't know what she felt, and the noble society of Westeros did not bolster any ill rumors about her after her death. So where is the public humiliation?

Furthermore, to propose a headcanon of my own versus yours; I think there is the slight possibility that Elia had her own secret lover on the side and that comes from a quote by Varys:

Varys gave him a shrewd look. "My little birds tell me that Princess Elia cried a . . . certain name . . . when they came for her."

Next you said:

"Disappearing after kicking off a major war while leaving his wife and children unprotected and in the reach of Aerys."

I think you choosing to talk about Aerys fits exactly on my original post's point, after all Aerys wasn't the one to rape and kill Elia. Who was it again? Have we forgotten already?

Elia was by Aerys's reach the moment she moved into the Red Keep, but that is besides the point, the guy was terrible, but he didn't kill her.

Aerys actually needed Elia alive to use her to control the dornish as seen in this Jaime's pov:

He (Aerys) had finally realized that Robert was no mere outlaw lord to be crushed at whim, but the greatest threat House Targaryen had faced since Daemon Blackfyre. The king reminded Lewyn Martell gracelessly that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad. Jon Darry and Barristan Selmy rode to Stoney Sept to rally what they could of griffins' men, and Prince Rhaegar returned from the south and persuaded his father to swallow his pride and summon my father. But no raven returned from Casterly Rock, and that made the king even more afraid.

Also in the quote above, we see that Rhaegar did came back from wherever he disappeared to (as you put it) in the south to hold back the rebellion. If he talked to his wife in this time, how and about what they might have talked, unfortunately we don't know. There is not much evidence of anything, but to conclude Elia was left all alone with no information about anything by her husband is a bit too much. Or are you saying Elia would avoid/ignore Rhaegar just out of spite or anger when he is the guy she depends on for her security and that of her children? Take Ned and Catelyn's marriage for an example.

Lastly I disagree again when you say "Rhaegar kicked off a major war", that's a reach because it wasn't just one action that kicked off the war, but a series of events mixed with Aerys declining sanity being well-known throughout Westeros at that point.

The Prince disappearing with the daughter of the Warden of North did cause tension with the northern Lord, but then Aerys killing said Lord and his son was what crushed any chance of peaceful relations.

By then each lord picks their reason to stand for war, but the truth is that this moment was long coming and the lords of Westeros were waiting for the slight show of vulnerability by the Targaryen king to take over KL.

My point still stands: people will rather complain about Rhaegar for cheating on Elia than point out Tywin and Gregor's involvement in her murder.

[mores0]

The Time Lords Peaked at The War Games.

In my opinion, I think the Time Lords were at their best during the War games. Because before the War games, we didn’t really know anything about the Time Lords or Gallifrey, or any of that really.

But then the War Games comes ripping around the corner and everything took a sudden turn before the Time Lords were even mentioned by name.  Then they were, and the Doctor explains that the Time Lords are his people and Jamie was like, ‘oh, everything’s alright then, if they’re your people than that must be a good thing because you’re good,’ (not what he actually said, but it’s what he meant) but it wasn’t. Like the scene in the End of Time part two with Wilfred and Ten (and I’ll get to that later, hang on).  And when The Doctor went to call the Time Lords, even the War Chief, the main baddie of the entire series, was frightened which really tells you something.

Then the Doctor tells Jamie and Zoe to stay there because the Time Lords will take them home as well. But Jamie and Zoe refused, because of course they would, and the Doctor just gives in and was just like ‘alright then’ and they all move on. And now the Doctor was like ‘okay, but we have to get the hell out of here before the Time Lords get here’ But then the Time Lords begin to arrive.

Then everything begins to slow down. And they begin to slow down. And the Doctor, Jamie and Zoe are trying to run to the TARDIS, but they’re moving at a snails pace, and in the background there’s a haunting and suspenseful song being played, and at this point the Doctor is making a desperate crawl to the TARDIS, but he’s just not close enough to get in, and it was terrible.  But luckily, Jamie was able to open the doors, and it’s like thank God, they made it, everything’s okay now! Wahoo!

But then the Time Lords start to take over the TARDIS to take them back to Gallifrey. And then the Time Lords make their first actual appearance.

They tell the Doctor that he has to come home immediately and face trial, but the Doctor didn’t want to and just wanted them to leave him alone, but of course they didn’t. So they tried flooding the TARDIS, telling the Doctor that his travels were over. So they went to Gallifrey.

And the Time Lords were just so /calm/ throughout the whole thing. They never yelled or got angry, they just said everything like there wasn’t any other option, and it was terrifying.

Then there were the trials where the Time Lords keep their calm and just wiped the War Cheif from existence like it was nothing.

And in trial, after being convinced that the Doctor still has a role to play in the universe, it was another ‘wahoo’ moment, because then they all try to escape, and everything should’ve been fine. In any other episode or series, they would’ve gotten away and had more adventures, but in the War Games, they don’t. They can’t.  So they all say their goodbyes, “I won’t forget you.”

But they do. All of Jamie’s and Zoe’s memories of the Doctor, and of everything they’ve done and seen and accomplished besides their first meeting were wiped away like nothing at all.

And on top of that, they force the Doctor to regenerate to be put on exile in what has to be one of the most terrifying and depressing regeneration in all of Doctor Who, as the Doctor yells “no, no, no” as everything spins before disappearing completely— like what the fuck?? I honestly cried while watching this.

And compared to every other episode or series the Time Lords popped up in, from Classic to New Who, they haven’t matched up to the War Games.

Not even in The End of Time, where they were at their most threatening under the War Games. But at the end of the day, in the End of Time, the Doctor beat the Time Lords, the day was saved, he could’ve went and had more adventures, and the only reason why he didn’t was because of Wilfred in the little machine thingy, not the Time Lords. And they kind of took the back seat to the Master if I’m being completely honest. The Master was the main threat really, not them.

So overall, I believe that the Time Lords were at their best, most menacing and impactful in the War Games, because in everything else it’s always felt as if they took the sidelines, and were always just easily brushed aside or defeated, while in the War Games, they won. And they did so easily.

[shadowofroses]

Little Explosions

My Hero Academia

Pairing: Reader x Bakugo Katsuki

Warnings: Bakugo is his own warning, crushes, uncontrolled explosions, Ghost quirk Reader, (Surprise cross over), Transfered from American Hero Academy, language

Summery: Cute short of how I imagined Bakugo losing his shit over a cute reader and being unable to control his quirk around them.

Story:

It hadn’t been long since you transferred into UA from another Hero school due to a recommendation. Moving into Mr. Aizawa’s Hero class. 1A. You remember your first day as if it was yesterday. This class has been in the media lately. You knocked gently on the door. You were welcomed in, and you introduced yourself. 

“I’m (Last name) (First name), transferred from the American Hero Academy, my quirk is Phantom. Nice to meet everyone.” 

You took a bow, and everyone blinked in your direction saying “Hi.” 

“Take a seat beside Bakugo. He’s the grumpy one.” Aizawa muttered.

“HEY!” 

You giggled as you realized the one who said ‘hey’ was Bakugo, You went to sit down not noticing his eyes were on you with each step. The moment you got closer, you heard small explosions that startled you into going into a ghostly form.

“Bakuko, don’t be showing off to the New Student.” You blinked looking over to your partner as you shook yourself to solidify your body again. 

“Whatever…” Bakugo grunted, looking off to the side with a blush on his face. Truth was it was unintentional. He actually felt nervous when you got closer to him. When he was nervous, he sweat, nervous accidentally set off little explosions from his fingertips. It was more or less like the firework snaps that they gave kids to play with. 

Training wasn’t too difficult, you could phase through people, and most things. The most dangerous you could be was to force someone to have a heart attack. 

You mainly hung out with your new group of friends. When you laughed, Izuku realized Bakugo set off minor explosions. Uraraka pointed out that everything you did cute really. You seemed to be clueless, Bakugo would be irritated by his own reactions, and how they always seemed to be focused around you. 

Then one day Bakugo had you pinned against the lockers and you stared at him with big wide eyes, small snap explosions at the tips of his fingertips of his free hand. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING TO ME BUT I NEED YOU TO STOP IT!”

You didn’t bother phasing, but that was mainly because you overused your quirk too much today. But you were honestly confused, “Heh?”

“I know you have a second quirk that is fucking around with me!” Bakugo growled out, shoving you against the lockers even harder. “Making my heart race! Making me Nervous! Making me sweat and not control my damn explosions!” Your heart raced, and you lightly blushed, he set off more explosions, “LIKE THAT! HOW ARE YOU DOING IT?!”

You sweat dropped at that, “Dude…I think you’re crushing on me…”

Bakugo blinked, once, twice, three times, “HEH?! YOU FUCKING WISH I DID!” you catching him blushing, and more mini explosions. 

You deadpanned, “I only have Phantom. My dad had Phantom due to an experiment and my mother is quirkless, how am I going to have a second quirk Lord Explosion Murder?!” 

“OH YEAH?! WHO IS YOUR DAD ANYWAY? LET ME LOOK IT UP TO MAKE SURE!”

You twitched, “Danny Phantom…” he paused for a moment. “Him and my mother didn’t want me under the Phantom last name so they gave me a normal name. You won’t find my information connected to him, so that no one can use me to get an advantage over him. See? Only one fucking Quirk.”

Bakugo pushed himself off of you and looked down crossing his arms, “...are you sure?” 

You sighed, “Yeah I’m pretty sure you have a crush, Pretty Explosion Boy.”

Bakugo blushed again his heart raced, “NO THAT YOU DON’T HAVE ANOTHER QUIRK?!”

“I do not have another quirk that messes with people’s emotions. I’d never use it if I did.”

He frowned at that, “Why not?” 

You shrugged, “Playing with other people’s emotions is rather a fucked up thing in my opinion. No way in hell I’d use it if I had it, but I don’t. Just ghost abilities.”

“Why didn’t you phase through me then?” 

“Cause I wanted to see what you had to say.” you shrugged again. 

Later that year, the two of you chilled out, Bakugo no longer fired off mini explosions. He started to become relaxed around you. 

Minus times when someone asked you out, or someone suggested you to date someone. 

Then he realized what you said that day was true.                                                                                       

“Hey (Name).”

You blinked back giving him a smile, “What’s up?” 

“We’re going out to dinner. six be ready.” 

You blinked and tilted your head cutely placing a finger on your chin, “Like a date?”

Bakugo twitched, pink in the face and set off mini explosions from his fingers, and he flexed them into a fist, “YES LIKE A DATE!” 

You giggled, “Alright, I’ll be there~” 

[bedofthistles]

The Little White Horse: A Complete Summary

So! I finally read TLWH, and man do I have thoughts and opinions! So many... so... many....

However, before I get into those opinions, I wanted to share my summary of TLWH, since I don't think a lot of people have read the book who enjoyed the movie.

Unfortunately, my thots and opinions are too wide and vast, resulting in what is more or less a 16 page dissertation, which may grow depending on if I think I covered all the topics I wanted to cover. So, to makes things a bit easier, I'm going to be splitting them up into more readable sections.

So, if you haven't read the book, if it's been a while since you've read the book, here is a summary of the novel.

Alright friends, the time has come. 

After undertaking the laborious task of consuming all Moonacre content possible (movie, minie-series and novel) I have come to some unfortunate conclusions. The book sucks. But before you go too far, especially the weird amount of you who like the book, I would like to preface that each person is allotted their opinions. I am not aiming to dis the book, it’s a classic, but it’s not perfect, no book or work of art is. No one should get so offended by another’s opinion to the point where it sparks a deep, roiling anger inside of them. 

(Rachel Zeglar may be wrong about the Snow White movie from the 1930s, but I took her side, everyone got real upset about a girl having opinions, not that’s her opinion and she’s allowed it.) 

I want to start out by saying there are some issues in regards to race, incest, pedophilia, grooming and sexism in the novel, if that surprises and shocks you, I’m sorry but its in there, and just because you didn’t notice it doesn’t erase the fact that it was there. I also don’t want this to be about me comparing the book to the movie, because one that would just be a rant, and as much as I love that, that wouldn’t be fair to either works, and honestly? Besides the names and setting, the book and movie could almost fully be divorced from one another. 

In case you don’t know the plot to the book, I will try to surmise it as best I can: 

Maria Merryweather is a recently orphaned girl, she leaves London with her governess (Miss Heliotrope) and her dog (Wiggins) arriving to live with her first cousin once removed, Sir Benjamin, lord over Moonacre Valley (and if you’re not up to snuff about what that means, he’s a landlord, more or less). While driving, Maria occupies herself by staring at her small feet, her one attribute and attractive characteristic. 

While en route, Maria sees the beautiful valley lit up like silver in the moonlight, and between the trees she spots a luminescent white horse. When she tries to tell her governess this, Ms. Heliotrope tells her to stop her overactive imagination, she has always had an overactive imagination, especially back in London, when she made up a playmate named Robin (yes, that one). 

When they arrive, they learn that no woman has stepped foot inside of the house in 20 years - yes, Sir Benjamin is proud of this - and, very importantly, there is no pink within the house. While there, Sir Benjamin is a very happy, polite gentleman, who calls Maria your highness, and refers to Moonacre Valley as her dominion. There are also this weird thing about Sun Merryweathers and Moon Merryweathers.

“The brave soul and the pure spirit shall with a merry and a loving heart inherit the kingdom together," quoted Sir Benjamin. “That's our family motto, my dear. It's been our motto since the days of the first Sir Wrolf. It refers, I think, to the two sorts of Merryweathers, the sun and the moon Merryweathers, who are always merry when they love each other. It is also, perhaps, a device for linking together those four qualities that go to make up perfection --courage, purity, love, and joy."

While giving her a tour of the manor, he shows her a well (this will be important later) and Maria thinks to herself if I were a medieval lady, this is where I would hide my jewels in time of war. 

Weird, but okay. 

The one place Maria is not shown, is the kitchen. 

They go to church, while the Parson is preaching, Maria brushes her skirt to smooth out some wrinkles, and there’s a noise that captures her attention for a bit. Then, once the service is over, everyone lines up and goes up to the Parson to get absolutely read to shreds. He literally tells them their sins of the week, and when it’s Maria’s turn, despite only being there for a day, she’s scolded for her vanity and curiosity. 

One of the things Sir Benjamin gets scolded for is allowing the (and I’m so sorry for this) “Black Men” to stop hunting in Merryweather park. And that’s kind of all they do, and from here on out I will be referring to them as the De Noirs because that is technically their name, but Elizabeth Goudge just keeps calling them “the Black Men”. 

And yes, that is as bad as it sounds, but more on that later. 

Let’s just speed run some facts. 

Every morning, Maria wakes up to cookies, milk, a stroked fire, and an outfit placed out for her. Maria feels so loved by these small acts, and feels as if she loves whoever is putting out these clothes. 

“[Maria] had a queer feeling, as she fastened the coat of the habit and pinned the bunch of snowdrops to the front of it, that L.M. - whoever she was - put loving arms around her; almost as her mother might have done, had she not died.” 

When she is out in the forest with Periwinkle and Wrolf, she hears the shrill, shrieking rabbit, and goes to save it. As she does, she realizes that the De Noirs have come for the rabbit as well. She and Robin save the rabbit from the De Noirs and bring her to safety. Robin tells her it's actually a moonacre hare, and then upon her asking too many questions, leaves. 

“Maria choked down her curiosity, for Robin had always hated being asked questions, and if she asked too many would disappear, and she did not want him to disappear just yet.”

“There was no answer, and looking up she saw that Robin had disappeared, even though as far as she knew she had not asked a single question.” 

She knows this because she would dream about Robin in London, and when she asked him questions, he would just leave the dream. 

Maria learns about Sir Wrolf (who was arrogant, rude, and planned on marrying the Moon Princess to steal Black William’s land), the Moon Princess (who was just pale, and kind, I think?) with her dowry of pearls, and Monsieur Cocque De noir, otherwise known as Coeur De Noir because his heart was so black (it’s a common french last name, not to mention the black cock that rides on the current De Noir’s shoulder).

“[Sir Wrolf had] got Paradise Hill but there remained the pine woods behind his manor house, that run right down to the sea, to what is now called Merryweather Bay, which were the property of Sir William Cocq de Noir, called Black William because of the black cock that was his family crest, and because of his lashing dark eyes, black hair and beard and sallow French skin. And also because of his black heart. Coeur de Noir, men sometimes called him, instead of Cocq de Noir. For he was a bad man, was Black William, cruel to wild creatures, domineering with his servants, morose and ungenerous.”

Black William remarries, has a son, and that son becomes his heir. Because of this, Sir Wrolf can’t inherit the whole of the Valley through his wife, and gets super angry. Because of his rage, the De Noir’s think Sir Wrolf killed Black William, the Moon Princess ran away, and Black William’s son, who was believed to have died from sickness, returned twenty years later with his band of men who would become the wicked, evil, ‘Black Men’ who plague the valley. Sir Wrolf is described to have died heartbroken (good) and damned to ride around Paradise Hill in a sort of purgatory for his ill-deeds.

The Parson also tells Maria that every Moon Princess is destined to leave the Valley after fighting with her love. That it won’t be until the Moon Princess humbles herself and marries a poor man she will never be allowed to stay. 

“She always has gone away," said Old Parson. “Not necessarily from the valley, but from the manor. Yet the old folks in the village vow and declare that one day there will come a Moon Princess who will have the courage to deliver the valley from the wickedness of the Black Men. But like the princesses in all the nicest fairy tales she will have to humble her pride to love not a prince but a poor man, a shepherd or ploughman or some such country lad, and to effect the deliverance with his help, and that's a thing which no Moon Princess has yet done, so proud are they.”

At this point, Maria meets Loveday Minette, the lady who had been leaving her clothes, she is kind and beautiful, and cleans the Parson’s house. 

Then again, while out with her animals and Ms. Heliotrope, Maria goes to Paradise Hill, which is the monastery Sir Wrolf stole from the monks because he was covetous. While there she meets the shepherd and guess who it is? That’s right, Robin, no surprise there. While the two are there, the De Noirs attempt to steal the sheep. 

Robin, Maria, and the Ghost of Sir Wrolf -

“And then, through the noise of the thunder and the rain, she distinctly heard the hoofs of a galloping horse pounding upon the turf. As the horseman was behind her she could not herself see anything, but whoever he was the Black Men seemed to see him, for with faces blanched by terror they turned and fled.”

they manage to scare them off.

Maria and Robin have a fight, but they deal with it, because Maria knows if she doesn’t forgive him, she’ll have to leave the Valley. This will be handled in more depth later. Likewise, Loveday and Sir Benjamin had a fight twenty years ago, Loveday leaves the Valley, marries a lawyer, sires Robin, and then comes back after her husband dies. Because of their stubborness, neither would return to the other and apologize. More detail on this later. 

After dealing with the De Noirs, however. Maria decides that she must save the valley from their wickedness. 

She, Robin, and the Parson return Paradise Hill to god, Sir Benjamin no longer profits off the sheep, and that’s it. It was a really long boring chapter about all the children of Silverydew cleaning it up and decorating it again with the statue of their Lady. They sing, and I think Sir Wrolf’s soul is released from the hell that is Moonacre Valley. 

Once this is done, Maria and Robin sneak into the Castle in the pine woods, ask Mr. Cock to pretty please stop stealing and he says: not until you give me back the pearls, and also your ancestor murdered my ancestor. 

Robin and Maria are chased, they find the tree hollow, with evidence that someone once lived there including a knife with a carved cock as the handle-

“Once upon a time this cave had been lived in. A hollow place in the wall was blackened, as though a fire had been lit there, and standing on a flat rock beside it was an iron pot that must have been used to cook stew in. And lying on the rock beside the pot was a huntsman's knife in a metal sheath, and a tarnished silver mug. Maria and Robin picked them up and looked at them, holding them close to their eyes in the dim light, and lo and behold, the sheath that held the knife was beautifully made in the shape of a cock, and upon the silver mug also there was traced the outline of a cock."

They also run through the tunnels that go through Moonacre Valley until they reach Merryweather Bay, where Maria finds a boat that belonged to Sir William. 

For Maria, this is enough evidence that Black William left on his own accord, and the magical sea unicorns brought the boat back to Merryweather Bay as proof. 

Once they’re home safe, Marmaduke asks Maria for butter kept in the well, because it's cold in there, and while Maria is more or less rifling through the Merryweather fridge, she finds an old box that has the pearls in them. 

Maria decides that she doesn’t want to give the pearls to the De Noirs, because they are wicked, and will just give them to the moon instead. Then, through a gold medal mental gymnastic routine, decides that she will give them over. 

“And yet Maria did not want to give those pearls away. She loved them far too much. She did not want to give them even to the moon, and as for giving them to the Black Men--well--she just couldn't do it. And yet she had to do it. Monsieur Cocq de Noir had promised that they would stop being wicked if she could give him proof that Black William had not been murdered by Sir Wrolf, but had withdrawn to a hermit's life by his own choice, and if she would give him the pearls. “That first condition was already fulfilled, for when he was pursuing her and Robin he would have seen Black William's hermitage with his own eyes, and the pearls he would have too if she could bring herself to give them to him. And then he would not be wicked any more and complete happiness would come to the Moonacre Valley. Somehow Maria did not doubt that if she kept her part of the bargain Monsieur Cocq de Noir would keep his. The wickedest of men have good in them somewhere, and remembering the direct look in his eyes she felt quite sure that he was not a man who would break his word. Yet she felt she could not give him these pearls, that she had found herself and that seemed already a part of her. “And then it struck her suddenly that if she gave her pearls to Monsieur Cocq de Noir she would, in a way, be giving them to the moon. For the moon belongs to the night, and what was more like night than Monsieur Cocq de Noir and his black pine forest? And the first Moon Princess had come out of the night-dark pine wood, bringing the pearls with her. The pearls belonged far more to the Black Men than they did to the Merryweathers.”

However, when she goes to the Castle, Mr. Cock takes the pearls, but doesn’t believe her about the boat. Then she hits him with the old “magic unicorns brought him into shore”, and he doesn’t believe that, but Maria is able to convince him to come out with her to the forest where she is sure the Little White Horse will appear, despite being rather elusive this whole time. They go out together, they see not only the Little White Horse, but a whole tidal wave of Sea Unicorn, and he’s like oh! You were telling the truth. 

But! That’s not the end! 

Maria still has to get Loveday and Sir Benjamin back together, and that is a whole other thing that deserves its own post and I will go into full detail on later. As well as some issues that I have with Robin Minette. 

The story ends with Loveday and Benjamin getting married, Robin and Maria getting married A YEAR LATER, and going on to have ten kids. While the book does not tell us Robin’s age, we know Maria is thirteen, meaning she is at least fourteen when she gets married, and who knows when they start having kids. Again, I will talk about this more later. However, despite common belief, this getting married at 12-14 was not common.

The book ends, however, with one of the most lovely quotes. 

“For sometimes in her dreams at night she stood beneath the branches of a mysterious wood, and looked down a moonlit glade, her eyes straining after something that she could not see. And when she woke up there would be tears on her cheeks because her longing had been unsatisfied. “Yet she was not unhappy because of this dream. “She knew that one day, when she was a very old woman, she would dream this dream for the last time, and in this last dream of all she would see the little white horse and he would not go away from her. He would come towards her, and she would run towards him, and he would carry her upon his back away and away, she did not quite know where, but to a good place, a place where she wanted to be.” 

To keep things brief (too late) I will be making other posts to complete my analysis of book, movie, and small mentions of the miniseries. 

And if you were thinking about reading the book: don’t.

First | Next

[the-blue-fairie]

Fictional Character Ask: Sam Gamgee from Lord of the Rings.

Favorite thing about them: His loyalty, his bravery, all of which shine even in the darkest of times.

Least favorite thing about them: I think Tolkien puts it best here (I dug up letter 246 online and I think the transcription is accurate, but I don't have time to check word by word): "In any case it prevented him from fully understanding the master that he loved, and from following him in his gradual education to the nobility of service to the unlovable and of perception of damaged good in the corrupt. He plainly did not fully understand Frodo's motives or his distress in the incident of the Forbidden Pool. If he had understood better what was going on between Frodo and Gollum, things might have turned out differently in the end. For me perhaps the most tragic moment in the Tale comes in II 323 ff. when Sam fails to note the complete change in Gollum's tone and aspect."

Three things I have in common with them:

I have a habit of committing snippets of poems to memory, as Sam does with the part of the Lay of Gil-Galad, etc.

I am loyal to my friends and do my best to point them on the best path when I can.

I have a love for pleasant, hobbity things like a warm bed and lovely meals.

Three things I don’t have in common with them:

Though I have cultivated a small garden in the past, I have no green thumb.

I'm prouder of my own poetic compositions than Sam is (seriously, though, Sam, your addition to the lament for Gandalf is lovely, have faith in your skills!)

I'm not a hobbit.

Favorite line: Not a line spoken by Sam, but lines that reveal his thoughts and internal monologue: "It was Sam's first view of a battle of Men against Men, and he did not like it much. He was glad that he could not see the dead face. He wondered what the man's name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil of heart, or what lies or threats had led him on the long march from his home; and if he would rather have stayed there in peace."

brOTP: Sam and Frodo

OTP: Sam/Rosie AND Sam/Frodo. Both is good.

nOTP: I don't really know of any other pairings for Sam besides those that I hold close to my heart.

Random Headcanon: He has a great deal more Bilbo-esue poetry composition up in his heads, like the troll song, the fireworks song, and so forth. He shares them eagerly with his children in later years.

Unpopular Opinion: I don't HATE Sam in the Bakshi film. Yes, he's... one of the weakest things about it, to put it charitably, but I still find him endearing, and there are some lovely little moments with him in there.

Song I associate with them:

The Tolkien Ensemble rendition of his song in Cirith-Ungol:

Bill Nighy's rendition of the Lay of Gil-Galad from the radio dramatization:

That "Less Can Be More" song from the Rankin Bass Return of the King. Not a fan of the film overall (Rankin Bass was wayyyy better suited to the tone of The Hobbit than LotR) but it has its moments and I think this is one of them:

Favorite picture of them: I want to show some love to some artistic renditions of him, so I'll start with those:

This piece by Inger Edelfeldt is just lovely.

I really like this piece by John Howe.

And then of course, there's this shot from Fellowship that I just feel encapsulates the character so well:

[plasmasimagination]

Hey if your still doing the match up event then I suppose if it isn’t too much trouble that I could have a go?

Fandom; Honkai Star Rail

I'm a INTJ 8w9 Aquarius cis boy who likes to draw as a hobby, i'm a confident person that’s also lazy but smart, others say I’m ‘Smart but lazy’ ‘Cold and Challenging’ and ‘Too Emotionally Reserved’ that last one is true, I don’t like opening up about my emotions and tend to be just unemotional or mask my real emotions with whatever the person wants be to feel.

I like playing fighting games, I take Taekowndo lessons, and I love to fight people. I also love comic books, specifically SpiderMan. I love the cold and just sleeping in my bed, cuddling up to the Corner and watching some YT videos

I really fuckin hate loud people and tend to get violent around them, I hate people that try to make me socialize, and I despise trying to be controlled. Oh! I’m also a major fucking asshole in the morning, like ‘I will beat you till your a bloody corpse’ type of asshole/grumpy.

I don’t have or know my love language.. but I suppose if there pretty laid back and isn’t afraid to fight, I’d love that? Idk.

I have an interest in Martial Arts, Drawing, Voice Acting, Making Stories, and Alternate Universes/Timelines (like the Sans Au’s)

(If it’s possible could I be paired up with a woman from HSR and Genshin? No worries if not just pair me up with someone form Honkai Star Rail or HSR)

If you want a name for me then just use Zeo or Zero

OH LORDY LORD! WE HAVE A GUY IN THE INBOX, WHAT A PLEASURE!!

Jokes aside I'm glad my writting has reached wider audiences and I'm more than happy to write for you, and as your matchup.....

.

.

.

For hsr- TOPAZ

And

for genshin- RAIDEN

Hsr- TOPAZ

I know I know, you might be like "Oh but plasma! Why the hell would you match me up with topaz??? She isn't even that good for me!"

BUT LISTEN.

I think you two would go very nicely together. The personalities somehow just match in like a piece of puzzle.

Topaz might seem professional and distant at first but trust me as she would warm up to you that she'll be very cooperative and fun to be around

she'll also be able to read you like a book, like she can literally figure out how you're feeling based on small details in your body language/face expression etc.

I think you two would grow be get along very well and work as a team

You two confident fellas would freaking take over the world

Like you two would be a real power couple together. Like with her wits and with your power...phewww you two would go insane

Besides, I think she could handle you in every way very well.

Topaz is a badass and not afraid to show it off, she's a great fighter and very confident in her skill and job.

And so, in my opinion, you two would be chefs kiss

Genshin- RAIDEN

What can I say, you attract girl bosses.

Do I really have to comment much on this?

I just think that Eis calm dementor could go well with your ticking bomb attitude

Even though ei is not much of a talker, she would always listen to you and try to understand you, even tho her point of view might be a bit...different she'll try her best!!....

And you two introverts can always just stay inside and enjoy your little alone time tch tch (/j)

She would also be very interested in your fighting skills and be probably amazed by it at some point

The only problem i see here would be that you're both emotionally reserved so I guess couples therapy ...?

[bees-tornado]

about me/blog info

introduction, before you follow, fandom stuff, etc. below the cut!

(star dividers courtesy of saradika)

hi everyone, i'm bees! here's some info about me/my blog:

i usually go by bees (he/him). please feel free to call me by name or whatever silly little nicknames you can think of.

if you know me irl no you don't. this is my happy little cringe fandom habitat <3

i love video games (mostly Nintendo and especially Pokemon/Fire Emblem) and anime (mostly Shounen and Shoujo), and most of the things i reblog are fanart and posts i think are funny

Fire Emblem: Three Houses is my favorite game of all time, and i post about it incessantly (more about this later)

Bernadetta von Varley is my favorite character of all time and i love her dearly and also she is my wife 💜

you can learn more about my favorite things here!

it is very difficult for me to come out of my shell and be myself (even in a space like this), but i returned to tumblr because i want to try to have fun and be cringe and be free, and i'm trying my best every day <3

PLEEEAAASE feel free to send asks/tag me/etc., especially if we're mutuals, and especially about my favorite things! i am far too anxious to initiate anything but i like interacting with people :)

on that note please be patient with me sometimes it takes me a long time to respond to things but I INTEND TO I PROMISE

i don't post art much but when i do you can find it under #my art

taken <3

before you follow (it's not too long i promise)

please don't follow me if you're a minor. i'm hesitant to mark this blog explicitly as 18+ because i don't really post nfsw stuff here besides joke text posts, but i don't want minors here regardless, sorry!

this is a 🏳️‍⚧️ trans friendly blog 🏳️‍⚧️

i don't do DNI's, but i do block/softblock/unfollow/blacklist/filter freely

i tend to avoid fandom discourse, including proship/anti/etc. discourse. my policy is that if i'm uncomfortable with a particular type of fandom content, i will fall back on my previous bullet point as necessary. the same goes for when i see people engaging in bullying and harassment over fandom stuff

this is not a spoiler-free blog, especially for FE3H and Naruto. i will occasionally tag spoilers (usually for jjba and xenoblade), but not consistently

FE3H-specific stuff

please please PLEASE talk to me about Fire Emblem: Three Houses for the Nintendo Switch you're not bothering me i promise

Bernie and Sylvain are my favorite guys i think they're neat

i'm too old and tired for fe3h lord discourse. i have my own favorites and opinions, but i tend to avoid following blogs that post aggressive or uncharitable takes about the main lords

i came from twitter where Bernadetta would only really trend for negative reasons, so please understand that i'm sensitive about the way people talk about her and her fans. no hard feelings if you don't like her, and i actually agree with a lot of criticism about her writing, but i try to keep anything too mean out of sight

That's it for now! Thanks for reading/skimming/whatever you just did, and I hope you'll stick around!