#I will fight tooth and nail for my queen

[nefertiti-fooling-fellow]

I am telling y’all now that if people start switching up on Chappell Roan and say that she’s overrated, I will be going to war btw.

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by my beloved no.1 chappell roan stan @cordiallyfuturedwight thanks my darling <33 i can only apologise for the lack of ms roan here... i swear good luck babe has been on repeat i don't know what happened

tagging the usual suspects, apologies if i've already missed yours: @aprylynn @jiminsproof @thvinyl @cosmicdreamgrl @visionsofgideontheninth @hoseeok @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @monismochi <333 and you dear reader

oh and see here for more of my self-proclaimed songs of the summer if you're interested in that kind of thing

[breadbrobin]

blanket hog

tim drake x reader — dc / batfam

[gn!reader]

summary: you’d never been close with tim, but now you were sharing a bed—too close. far too close—and you didn’t know what to think

warnings: light swearing, sharing a bed (ONE BED TROPE MY BELOVED), idiots in love, kissing, is my writing good? idk anymore

word count: 1.7k

(this was meant to be in two parts but it’s way shorter than i thought it was when i was writing it lmao. anyway happy birthday tim drake!)

—————————————

if tim drake was a magnet you were his polar opposite. that much you knew for sure. rather than draw you in, he repelled you backwards, unfazed by his ceo smile and somehow perfect hair. it was his unnerving ice-blue eyes that seemed to look through you and his fumbling words that pushed you back. there was something in his stare, and it made your cheeks burn and your heart race, and you didn’t like it. if you could’ve stayed away, you would have.

but fate was a fickle thing.

and when blankets were hogged, you’d fight tooth and nail not to freeze to death.

it had been an easy decision to share the queen-sized bed. the hotel room was small—a bed, a dresser and a bathroom alone—and none of his siblings had wanted to share with him. steph and cass took the only other double room in the small-town in, leaving you with no choice. there wasn’t even any floor space.

“we can take shifts?” tim had suggested, his cheeks uncharacteristically pink.

you’d told him not to be ridiculous, and then you’d had to practically tackle him into the bed to get him to sleep at all.

finally, the room was filled with only soft breathing as you drifted off, warm and cosy in the surprisingly soft sheets.

and then you were cold.

what?

your sleepy eyes blinked open and you frowned. did someone open the window? your sleep addled brain hadn’t put the pieces together just yet. your fingers tightened around the blankets you had pulled against your—ah. that was the issue.

you frowned and rolled onto your back, reaching around to find them. where did they go?

there! you connected. how did they get there? no matter.

you pulled the blankets loosely, but they barely budged. you frowned again. what the hell?

you blinked in the darkness, peering at the shape in the bed next to you. it came rushing back. tim drake. typical. you had to be bunking with the blanket hog.

you pulled the blankets harder, to no avail. you gritted your teeth and dug your heels in (metaphorically), pulling with all your might and hoping they wouldn’t rip. sure, bruce could pay for the replacement, but you’d feel bad.

finally, the blankets came wrapping around you. you rolled back onto your side as you pulled them tight to your chin. then an arm was around your waist. then there was a warm breath on the back of your neck.

oh.

tim’s chest was pressed loosely against your back. he was still gripping the blankets too, obviously dragged by your pulling. you shifted for a moment, but his grip on you only tightened. fabulous.

your heart raced—why did your heart race?—and your palms sweated slightly. it wasn’t hot, but you felt all warm and fuzzy, like you’d just had a big cup of tea. it was tim. even if he wasn’t like a furnace, you realised he’d warm you like this. finally, you let yourself relax into his embrace.

you’d deal with that in the morning, and just hope no one came in before you woke up.

the morning was warm and cosy. you didn’t think too hard about why. there was sunlight streaming onto your body through a gap in the curtains and the blankets were warm and—what was that?

it felt like a breath of air against your skin. you opened your eyes and immediately slammed them closed again.

oh. right.

tim.

throughout the night, you’d clearly managed to roll in his grip until you were face to face. his arm was loose around your waist, hand tangled slightly in your sleep shirt. your legs were tangled with his. your stomach lurched with something unknown, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

you opened your eyes slowly, tentatively, and—

oh.

you were thinking that a lot lately.

it was rare to see tim without a tense frown on his face. it aged him, made him look more stressed and intense. but now… his face was soft with sleep, lips parted just so. oh god, your stomach fluttered.

maybe that was why you’d never been able to be comfortable around him. were you…? no. surely not, right?

as if your thoughts were probing into his dreams, tim stirred slightly. the arm around your body tightened for a second, and his eyebrows twitched. your breath caught in your throat and you snapped your eyes closed again. you really didn’t want to look at him when he woke up, but a soft sigh came from his lips, then a gasp, and he retracted his arm like he’d been burned. you felt instantly colder as he jerked backwards.

you looked up him as he sat up abruptly.

he had a shell-shocked look on his face. scandalised, even. his eyes—startlingly blue—met yours. “i’m so sorry.” his voice was soft and rough with sleep.

you had to swallow tightly before you could reply. “it’s okay.”

“i don’t—“ he shook his head and rubbed his face. “i shouldn’t have—“

“you kinda grabbed me when i pulled the blankets back last night.” you admitted quietly, sitting up too.

“oh.” he said dumbly.

“yeah. blanket hog.” you shot him a small smile.

that seemed to break the tension. he smiled back. “shut up.”

“does koala fit better?”

he groaned and flopped back down onto the bed, covering his face. “i said i was sorry.”

“and i said it was okay.” you shot back immediately, watching him with a small smile. you didn’t quite know what it meant, but you did know that there was something different between you now. it was like you’d broken through the previous tension to discover something more. worse? better? you didn’t know yet.

he opened his eyes and peered at you between his fingers. “you’re not upset?”

“why would i be? it was cold. you’re like a furnace.” you shrugged, deciding to play it cool.

he sat up again and pushed his hands through his hair. it fell back in front of his face. your fingers twitched like you wanted to push it back again. “right. yeah.”

you found yourself studying his face. when he wasn’t looking stressed or exhausted, he was actually really pretty, you realised. obviously, you objectively knew that—the tabloids did a great job of describing how pretty he was (not that you read them, no way)—but you’d never taken the time to see it yourself.

he shifted under your gaze. “what?”

“nothing.” you said sharply, turning your head away. you leaned back against the rickety headboard. he followed suit.

there was silence for a long while. you fiddled with your fingers, not looking at him. you could feel his gaze on your profile, probing and studying and examining you like you were a piece of evidence at a crime scene.

finally, you let your eyes dart back to him.

he wasn’t looking at your eyes.

there was a rush that went through you as his piercing eyes flashed between your lips and eyes. your breath caught and you looked away again, before you could do anything stupid.

“why don’t you like me?” he asked softly. “i mean… you act like you hate me. why?”

“i don’t hate you.” you said softly.

he scoffed. “yeah, i know that. why do you act like you hate me?”

you were silent for a moment. you could feel tim’s gaze on your face again. “i don’t know. i think it’s because…” you swallowed your pride. “you always look like you want to say something to me, but you never do. i think i felt like you didn’t like me.”

“i do.” he said in a rush, the words spilling out of him. “i do like you. i don’t know why i can’t seem to talk to you like a normal person, but i just…”

you looked over at him with a small smile. “you’re doing a pretty good job right now, for a boa constrictor.”

he groaned and laughed a little, shaking his head. “you’re terrible.”

“seriously i think you cut off my circulation.”

“very funny.”

“i’ll sue you for my medical bills when i have to amputate from the lack of blood flow.”

“i’ll pay them anyway.” his voice was soft. it sounded like a confession.

your heart fluttered. “so you admit guilt?”

he nodded slightly. his eyes weren’t so piercing in the warm dimness of the hotel room. they were warmer, softer, more gentle. or maybe that was just the way he was looking at you. “and i’d do it again.”

yesterday, you would have laughed at him and kept joking. today… you bit down a smile. “i think i’d allow that.”

he didn’t hide his smile. “yeah?”

you let yours show a little too. “yeah, i guess.”

“and if i were to maybe kiss you? would you allow that?” he asked softly, barely above a whisper. his eyes dropped to your lips again.

your heart climbed into your throat and did a little dance. you nodded. “yeah, i suppose i could allow that.”

for a moment, you wondered if this was a good idea. if this would backfire on you. if this would result in pain and loss and not to mention hours of teasing from steph about getting her ‘sloppy seconds’. if this would end terribly and ruin your entire dynamic with the bats, who you’d only just started working with.

and then tim’s lips were on yours and your mind went blissfully blank.

you sighed into the kiss, your hand coming up to his chest.

the kiss was brief, but as his lips pulled away from yours, your hand tightened on the collar of his shirt and pulled him back to you.

after all that time not understanding what these feelings were, you finally got why your cheeks burned and your heart raced and why he could never talk properly around you.

god, it all made sense, and his fingers in your hair and cupping your jaw were exactly where they were meant to be. the knock on the door only drew you back to reality for a moment before his lips were on yours again, and again, and again, and you realised you could stay there for a lifetime. you’d be happy to.

[yawnderu]

The way you write Ghost. Oh my gosh I could kiss your brain!!!

Your Ghost(s) give me “my body is a weapon, yours is a temple because you keep me safe” but also Uno Reverse Card to the point where reader can be like “Ghost’s body is a temple because he keeps me safe, I’ll be the weapon when he needs to be protected”

Probably didn’t make sense but I always love rereading everything you put out 141 related. Thank you for sharing your work Stray!

It's no secret that soldiers and veterans are rarely seen as much once they're back home, and Simon Riley isn't an exception. Forced to live a second life and being unable to talk much about his accomplishments, most people think he's simply another soldier— another hitman for the fuckin' Queen, rather than the hero he is.

There's something oddly charming about Simon's little wife, willing to fight tooth and nail to defend his honor even when he's perfectly capable of defending himself, and yet he lets you. With a soft gaze and an even more tender heart, Simon listens to you arguing with anyone daring enough to talk ill of him. He soaks in the indirect praise you give him, his bravery, his skills, his quick thinking— how he's both brain and brawn.

Simon is death's instrument, and yet you have no problems treating his body as a temple, knowing that he'll keep you safe no matter what. It hurts when people see him as too rough around the edges, too brooding, too broken. And maybe he is all of that, but he's also brave, loving, loyal, kind.

There's a lot more than what meets the eye, so many layers to who Simon truly is, layers that even after years, you haven't finished peeling, yet you still defend his honor like your life depends on it, because he deserves it. He deserves having someone sticking up for him, the fact that his wife is that person only makes it even more charming for him.

Ahhhh thank you so much love!! I appreciate that A LOT🥹🥹💗💗💗

[aphroditelovesu]

I was in a doctor's office and an idea came to my mind while I was waiting to be seen:

What if Rhaenyra and Laenor had a legitimate child? And they, like the rest of the family because we love drama, were yandere for the child?

The Reader was the only legitimate child to be born from Nyra and Laenor's marriage. Their heritage could not be questioned due to its Valyrian appearance and the clear obsessive attachment that Laenor has to them, something he did not have with his other ''children.''

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra adored and spoiled her firstborn, she loved her other children deeply, but she favored the Reader, her heir, in the same way that Viserys favored her. As Cersei said, you never love anything in the world the way you love your first child.

Corlys and Rhaenys would be absolutely attached to the Reader, especially after Laenor's death, as they are the only trace of their son. Rhaenys wants Driftmark to pass to you and not Jacaerys (who in this scenario becomes Lord of Driftmark), while Corlys insists that becoming King or Queen of the Seven Kingdoms will be better for you.

Alicent and Otto would have developed their own obsession with you in their own way. Alicent would love you and perhaps even see you as a mother figure, causing friction between her and Rhaenyra. Alicent's children would follow their mother's example, Helaena would be especially close to you, Aegon and Aemond would constantly fight for your attention with their brothers.

Jacaerys is only a year younger than you and he considers himself your best friend. There is no resentment between you and there never will be, he loved you with everything in him and defends you tooth and nail. Lucerys is the youngest brother who constantly wants your attention and approval and becomes jealous when it is given to someone else.

It would be interesting, mainly due to the issue of usurpation. Things would get even more chaotic once Daemon entered the story.

Maybe I need to write something about this...

~ Lady L

[honeyed-hedonist]

SFW:

Rarely cooks for himself because he’s always on the go, but when he does find the time to whip up a meal, it’s always the best thing you’ve ever tasted. 

Dry sense of humor, but will crack a smile (and sometimes even a laugh) despite himself at your puns/jokes/general silliness

Stubborn as all hell. Will fight tooth and nail with you over the dumbest shit just because he’s so obstinate. 

Speaking of stubborn, good luck getting this man to admit he was wrong. You could draft a whole essay in MLA format with a PowerPoint presentation on why, in fact, he’s completely wrong and he’ll still look you dead in your eyes and say “That proves nothing. I’m right.” Sir, no you are not, let me count the ways. 

Don’t let that deter you though! He apologizes for his stubbornness in other ways--whether it’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers or bringing you coffee in the morning, he’s a man of action, not words.

Stoic and standoffish when you first meet him. It takes him a little while to soften, and there’s a big part of him that wants to cave, to break down those walls and open himself back up, but he fights it every time. Despite that, he craves softness and warmth, so when you come along to give it to him in droves, it’s a losing battle for him to keep you at arm’s length

Once those walls are down it’s like night and day. He’s handsy, can’t keep them to himself. He’s always gotta be touching you in some capacity if only to remind himself that you’re real and he needs to cherish every moment he gets with you because he knows better than most how quickly things can change.

Will always make time for you. Doesn’t matter the time of day or night, doesn’t matter what he’s doing, you call and he’s on his way.

Uses all sorts of pet names on you in English and Spanish. Mi cielo (my heaven/sky), mi alma (my soul), chula (cutie), reinita (little queen), mi amor (my love), babe/baby, angel, sweetheart, sunshine, and bunny to name a few. If it’s sweet and makes you fluster, he’s all for it.

Speaks Spanglish a lot, especially when he’s mad. Will switch between both so fast you can hardly keep up, and he’ll stop mid-rant and give you a sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders. “My mouth has a mind of its own, bonita. Lo siento.”

Calls you often when the two of you are apart. Can’t end his night without hearing your voice. No matter where he is, you can guarantee your phone will ring right before you fall asleep every single night. He always says he’s just calling you to say goodnight, but then the pair of you end up talking for hours. Not that you mind, the lack of sleep is worth it.

NSFW under the cut 18+ NO MINORS.

NSFW:

Oscillates between a hard and soft dom depending on the day he’s had or the mood he’s in, but regardless of that, he’s always the top. 

Eats for his pleasure. When his face is buried between your thighs, it’s not about you, it’s about him and he’ll eat until he’s satisfied, regardless of how desperately you try to shove him off. “Nuh uh, mami, m’not finished yet. Lay back and take it, huh? Be a good girl and let me have my fill. Tastes too damn good.”

Grunts and growls most of the time, but when he’s feeling softer that man 100% whimpers.

A vocal lover--he likes to taunt and tease you, overwhelms you with praise, forces you to answer his questions even in the midst of your fuzzy-headed bliss. “Speak up, princesa. I asked you if you can feel me deep up in that belly. Yeah? There we go. That’s my girl.”

His favorite positions to fuck you in tend to alternate, but he’s a big fan of doggy with his hand around your throat while you’re on your knees with your back to his chest, mainly because it allows him to sink his teeth into your neck and speak absolute filth in your ear. Missionary or a full blown mating press and prone bone are others he enjoys. Also likes to pound into you from below when you ride him--again, this man is all about control so even when you think you have the upper hand, you don’t. 

Big on marking you--with his fangs or otherwise. When you ask him to bite you for the first time he goes absolutely feral, fucks you so hard you can’t walk right or sit down for a week, your chest, neck, and back littered with bruises, bite marks, and a prominent puncture wound at the hollow of your throat.

Stamina for days. My guy could spend hours on end fucking you into the mattress and he does every single time. There are no quickies with Miguel--when he makes time for you, he makes time. Will clear out an entire day and dedicate it solely to taking you apart and piecing you back together just so he can do it all over again. “One more round, baby. C’mon, need it. You’re not gonna deprive me, are you? Nah--you know better. Open up for me, chula, just like that.”

Big breeder balls. (Sorry, I don’t make the rules.) My boy will stuff you so fucking full. Practically cums buckets and loves to watch it ooze out of your abused little hole when he’s finished pumping several loads inside you. “Lookit that, huh? Ese pequeño coño está lleno, ¿no?” (That little cunt is stuffed full, isn’t it?)

To be continued…..

[yandereforme]

Damian wayne? nah, Damian AL GHUL.

(in my perspective his al ghul blood is where he gets his yandare shii from cause yk..the al ghuls..it just fits right..)

(imagine if damian stayed in Nanda parbat)

so imagine damian going on an assasin mission in gotham and crosses paths with vigilante!reader(Female if possible xx) on the gotham rooftops where they get into a fight and for the first time, Damian loses, to a girl/woman and now he's obsessed interested in her, now I see him purposely taking missions that's from gotham just to see reader then just one night he plans a kidnapping, think several other assasins on standby so the kidnapping will be perfect and..idk anymore, I ran out of brain juice.(I'm gonna be honest this was my dream last night, and I woke up 💔)

ALSO IM SORRY IM JUST YAPPING I JUST WANTS TO TELL YOU THIS CAUSE MAYBE YOU CAN DO SOMETHING WITH IT CAUSE CAUSE I JUST LOVE YOUR WRITING 💔💔💔

also, me personally, Damian al ghul>damian wayne

I wanna ask without anon but I'm EMBARRASSED CAUSE IDK WHAT I TYPED SOUNDS LIKE WHEN SOMEBODY READS IT!! (and ik my grammar suckz ass cause English ain't my first language. far from that💔💔)

oh no I'm yapping again I'm so sorry

You are not a bother at all! I love this idea, and you don’t need to be embarrassed, that’s how I write most things lol.

Damian Al Ghul x Vigilante! Reader

I’m thinking he went to Gotham to scout out his father and his subordinates (they aren’t a focus in the post)

He completely forgets about them after he meets (and gets his butt kicked by you)

You are an independent vigilante, and you have always been that way. You avoid Batman and his birds, preferring to take care of things like human traffickers, muggings, abusers, etc.

That being said, you knew enough about the big stuff that the boy in ninja gear set off alarm bells. You were prepared for his attacks, and had your weapons at the ready

You were a badass, and wiped the floor with Damian, even pinning him down before other ninjas came out of the darkness, hellbent on you.

He yells at the others in Arabic and you take your chance to slip away. This was above your pay grade, and the Bat could deal with them. You needed to continue your patrol.

Damian was expecting an easy fight, but you surprised him. When you glared down at this boy, blood streaked across your face, eyes alight with hatred as you held him down, Damian fell hard.(I headcanon that Al Ghuls fall for/become yandere for strong fighters or general badasses, while Wayne’s tends to become yandere/protective over kindness/innocence due to their trauma)

Those idiots who interrupted his fight with his beloved were killed immediately, and he immediately set his sights on finding you again.

He found your vigilante work a worthy endeavor, but your civilian life was not up to par. You worked two jobs, both of which were meant to be taken on by peasants, not by important people like you. He admired and hated the fact you survived on your own, admiring your strength but despising what you had to do to survive.

This man will fight tooth and nail to get to go to Gotham at every opportunity. He prefers to watch you on patrol, and privately dispose of the simpletons you were surrounded by

After a while, when your room and all the supplies were prepared, only then did he set up your kidnapping. He approached you late at night, outside of your suit. You gave him another worthy fight, but this time he wasn’t going to let you get away, and knocked you out quickly.

When you wake, it will be to Damian sitting across from your bed, reading one of your favorite novels (he doesn’t like this kind of book, but as his beloved enjoys it, he will be learned on the subject).

Be prepared to have a life of being Damian’s Queen, Y/n Al Ghul. By the time you wake up, he will have already removed all traces of your past from the rest of the world, making sure you had nothing to go back to, if you were ever able to escape, so your best bet is to stay as his queen, and hopefully figure out a way out(you won’t escape.)

[saltywinteradult]

“Why are Alicent's choices only Feminist and Radical when they benefit Rhaenyra?” because that’s the point of the show! It’s about a woman taking back what’s rightfully her’s, Rhaenyra wasn’t “forced” to turn on Alicent, no one forced her to seize her throne. Alicent on the other hand was forced and manipulated into everything she does that goes against Rhaenyra:

Otto scared her into thinking Rhaenyra would kill her siblings, nothing has ever suggested she would. We know deep down Alicent knows Nyra won’t kill them because in 1x08 she tells her she’ll make a good Queen, you don’t say that if you seriously think your kids and grandkids will be put to death.

She misheard Viserys, if it wasn’t for this misunderstanding Alicent would be Team Rhaenyra.

Alicent may be shown as Rhaenyra’s adversary in the posters but the reality is Otto’s the de facto leader of Team Green. He’s the one who planned the coup with the rest of the men, leaving Alicent in the dark because he knows where her heart truly lies.

I can believe Rhaenyra would have children with Harwin no matter who she’s married to, what I can’t believe is that Alicent would have children if she had a genuine say in the matter. That’s why it’s feminist and radical for Alicent to choose love over duty, because she’s finally putting herself first!

This post explains this perfectly: tumblr(.)com/rhaenicentdaily/746232908284559360/i-actually-agree-with-the-confession-of

(In reference to this post)

Oh, honey, no. This is not a story about a woman taking what's "rightfully hers". Did Rhaenyra have the legal right to the throne? Arguably, but it doesn't matter because the entire system of feudal hereditary monarchy, which Rhaenyra has every intention of upholding, is bad and should not exist, and that's largely the point of the Dance. Having a woman sit on the Iron Throne is not going to make a damn bit of difference for the thousands of people who died in the war to put her there.

If Rhaenyra intended to make any systemic changes, she would advocate for absolute primogeniture, like for Baela to inherit Driftmark - but she doesn't. She advocates for her son, who is a bastard and has no inheritance rights, to inherit it because all Rhaenyra is doing is fighting to put herself and her children in power. She's being every bit as selfish and power hungry as the Greens, and from a storytelling perspective there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. As far as I'm concerned that makes her a far more interesting character than flattening her into a cookie-cutter heroine does, so I don't know why her stans insist on doing just that. Rhaenyra is a war criminal, same as her husband and, yes, her brothers. The fact that she says Aemond should be "sharply questioned", which is just a nicer way of saying "tortured", for simply speaking the truth is all the proof Alicent needs to know that Rhaenyra is absolutely willing to hurt her siblings if it benefits her. Like it or not, Otto is completely right about that. Rhaenyra's not the Feminist Girlboss Hero you think she is, so it's no more feminist for Alicent to choose her than to choose the children she loves just as much.

And for the record, you can't use what-ifs to justify misunderstanding Alicent's canon character and actions. It doesn't matter whether or not Alicent would've chosen to have her kids. They exist and she loves them despite not having chosen to have them, and she is fighting tooth and nail to keep them safe because she loves them. It doesn't matter if she misheard Viserys - she already has very good reasons to advocate for Aegon over Rhaenyra. Otto may be a scheming, power-hungry asshole and the main orchestrator of the events that lead to the Dance (though the largest blame falls on Viserys) but Alicent is the figurehead of the Greens and as I've already explained, in my opinion that's the right choice for this story.

Since you're clearly not considering any of the arguments I've laid out to support my opinion, nonny dearest, I request that you stop sending me these asks. I'm not going to be reading or answering any more of them.

[generalluxun]

MLB MQ Boop

It was impossible. Of all people, it shouldn't have been her. The streaming rain couldn't hide the truth though. Cat Noir had tried. He had fought tooth and nail. Dragonbug could see him, struggling to rise even now as the sky cried their defeat.

Three shapes strode through the rain towards her, others stood impassively behind. The two tall shapes resolved first, purple and blue. Enemies to the core. Mayura wore a grim smile.

The third resolved last, the grey resolved to black through the rain, and yellow highlights follows. Miracle Queen. Chloé.

Hawkmoth didn't even bother to hide his fiendish glee, "Now Miracle Queen, take her Miraculous. Give me the Ladybug and the Cat. The rest are yours. You will be the only hero in all of Paris."

Miracle Queen stepped forward, box held under one arm. Her glowing wasps formed an aura around her, even in the rain. Purple within blue eyes stared down at Dragonbug's bent form. Dragonbug struggled to rise. She could still fight, she would still fight. She had two miraculouses. Seven on one? It didn't matter. Broken body? It didn't matter. She-

"You see Ladybug? Even Hawkmoth knows it. Once a hero, always a hero. Too dangerous? Ha. You should know I never let anyone get in my way." Miracle Queen leaned down. She reached out with one hand. Dragonbug's world shrank to those spread fingers. She saw the end and her racing mind turned completely blank. "Boop." Miracle Queen's finger touched the end of Dragonbug's nose. The stolen Miracle Box fell into her numb hands.

"Now, let's get these ridiculous losers."

Despair turned to disbelief.

The impassive silhouettes advanced, resolving into the other mind-blanked heroes. They encircled Hawkmoth and Mayura from behind.

"Ha, looks like the fur's about to fly, now." Cat Noir had pushed himself up on his baton.

Disbelief turned to hope.

Pain fell away. A yellow and black grip helped Dragonbug rise as the others closed in.

Miracle Queen ducked under Dragonbug's arm and supported her with a shoulder. "I promised I wouldn't disappoint you."

[androgynousblackbox]

My own Swap!Hazbin Hotel AU

I don't even know if I am ever going to do anything with this, but the idea won't leave me alone so here it goes: Basically the Vees exchange place with Appleradio+Charlie. Velvette as Charlie forms the Hazbin Hotel as a way to scam people and speedrun her way to becoming a fearsome overlord. It's entirely by accident that some souls actually get redeemed! Vox as Lucifer, king of hell, a virus that was passed down since creation as an error that gave birth to sin. He had countless bodies through the years, but his memories and personality remain. He supports the project of Velvette because it looks like it could be fun and is curious if something happens with it. At least it could be something different in hell after so long of the same old thing.

Valentino as Alastor. First, he wanted to see what Velvette was actually doing, then stayed because he liked her and then he just likes to fuck people (figuratively and literally) at the hotel to get his fun until Vox is there. Then he mostly wants to fuck Vox and become the queen of hell because he thinks that will be a life of luxury guaranteed. He and Velvette become best gossiping friends. Lucifer as Vox, the news demon that controls all newspapers, all news stations. He actually prefers written media over the TV, but goes with whatever is popular to grab people's attention. He does like to make movies, though. Ruthless when he needs to be, but also has a kind heart deep down that makes Alastor all the overprotective for him because he hates the idea of anyone taking advantage of that. Lucifer tried to reclute Valentino a long time ago and Valentino actually considered it, until he saw how he was always going to be second place to both Charlie and Alastor so he didn't take the deal and prefered to grow on his own. Alastor as Valentino, the radio demon that makes audio dramas and controlls the market for kinky media/snuff films outside of the public recognition because money, on one hand, but also because he is constantly looking for new ways to make the sex topic remotely interesting for him. It's just by chance that other people happened to find it interesting too. He and Lucifer have been together since they both started at the bottom, helping each other when no one else would as young rising overlords that had to fight with tooth and nail to get where they are. Charlie as Velvette, a inspirational influencer doll demon that Lucifer adopted off the streets with the hope of she just being a pretty face anyone could fall in love with and turning up to be a lot more when she started her own social media. She is still somewhat naive, more prone to anger, but still far more gentler so all of the souls she owns are happy to give themselves to her. Vaggie is her assistant that keeps her safe and reminds her to not trust so easily on her audience.

[bonefall]

in the nightcloud summary post- "They'd barely settled in before Nightstar and Crookedstar turned on them, attacking to try and drive them out AGAIN." is this a typo, or is nightpelt in charge of shadowclan during this attack?

Not a typo and also COMPLETELY canon! That is not a BB addition, that happens in the book!

Fire and Ice, chapter 30:

"Fireheart skidded to a halt, reeling at the sight that greeted him in the camp clearing. Last time he’d been here, in search of the scent trail that would lead them to the missing Clan, the place had been deserted and silent. Now the clearing swarmed with writhing, screeching, fighting cats. Onewhisker had been right—the WindClan cats were hopelessly outnumbered. A fresh party of ShadowClan and RiverClan warriors waited at the edge of the clearing, but WindClan could spare no backup group. The whole Clan was fighting, apprentices and elders, warriors and queens."

ShadowClan and RiverClan team up after Fireheart fetches them home, to try and drive WindClan out a second time. It's explicit how horrifying this is, how the battered clan is hopelessly outnumbered, and how the invaders have a backup reserve of reinforcements while WindClan is fighting tooth and nail.

He even sees a ShadowClan tom BATTERING Morningflower, a nursing queen who's trying to defend Gorsekit.

"Fireheart heard Runningwind yowl for help. The tabby warrior was grappling desperately with Nightstar, ShadowClan’s treacherous leader. Fireheart darted through the throng to Runningwind’s side. Without pausing to think, Fireheart leaped, grabbing Nightstar from behind. The black warrior howled in rage as Fireheart pulled him backward and sank his claws deep into Nightstar’s fur. He had fought side by side with this warrior only a few moons ago to help him drive out Brokenstar. Now he sank his teeth into Nightstar’s shoulder with the same ferocity he had used against the former ShadowClan leader."

I could talk about how interesting this battle is, and all of the little interactions between various warriors (my girlie Leopardfur gets another mini bossfight <3), but the bottom line is that this moment means a lot to me. I want to FRAME it in BB.

BB!Nightstar, at the end of the day, isn't principled. He is no radical. BB!Brokenstar is infamously overhauled, and the biggest part of that is that he's a reflection of Clan Culture. He's a manifested curse, which was only broken because BLUESTAR and her new philosophy are different.

If it wasn't for her and Fire Alone, the Clans were doomed to end the way that Ripplestar had seen born on the night of his death. Self-concerned and violent, blinded by their pride, ripping each other apart and letting the others fall one by one

But Nightstar just thinks Brokenstar went too far. He has no objection to honor, or the Warrior Code, you see. Stealing kits and driving Clans out of their territories is what's unacceptable. Not keeping what you already own; and certainly not the concept of violently winning land in furious battles.

He became leader because he appeals to the two "divided halves" of the Clan. Deerfoot the Rebel is too controversial for those who enjoyed Brokenstar's methods, but old, wise Nightpelt who only retired because of asthma, he's a good compromise. At first.

Power has a mind of its own. You know what Brokenstar did? He promised these cats glory. He let them fight how they please. ShadowClan HATES WindClan, they've been fighting for generations. Appealing to those cats means letting them do whatever they want, and what they want is MURDER.

So Nightstar keeps appealing to them, alienating Deerfoot and his group, causing him to appeal even harder to ShadowClan's other half. Thus, he ends up in the same position Brokenstar was in, with Downwind's blood on his hands, only this time... Runningnose holds a grudge against the little weasel who caused the death of his beloved leader, biding his time to clear the Clan of all the traitors who stood against Brokenstar.

He tried to make allies out of cats who were ALWAYS going to hate him. Power drove him towards becoming what he had previously opposed. In the end, he paid for it.

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Fifteen

Master List of Series

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

Author's Note: Hey, besties! Guess who passed their State Board Exams…? ME! I DID! Now, all I gotta do is fill out some paperwork, and I'll be licensed. I've started working already, but it's only three days a week right now, so pretty good! Don't hesitate to comment or ask me questions. I love hearing them and seeing others discuss them. Happy reading, everyone, and let the celebrations commence!

Chapter Warnings: Violence

The celebrations of Aegon's birth had finally arrived. All the Great Houses were expected to come—all but one. The Velaryons and part of the Targaryen faction were not extended an invitation. Rhaenys had taken this as a political slight by Queen Alicent. She was collateral damage in the cold war between Rhaenyra and her old friend. Guilty by association.

Lord Corlys was still fighting for control of the Stepstones and had put his loyal Lady Wife on the Driftwood throne to rule in his stead. The alliance of the Triarchy and House Martell of Dorne was of much concern, and without the aid of the King's fleet, the battle was all but lost. Yet, through it all, the Sea Snake remained on the collection of islands, fighting tooth and nail against those who wished control of his rightful territory.

Princess Rhaenys did not know of your efforts inside the Keep, slowly but surely attempting to send help to the losing battles. The day she was crowned the "Queen Who Never Was" came to mind. She felt abandoned by her cousins, Daemon and Viserys, for refusing to take a stance on the insurgents. Baela was her only solace, her heart missing the pieces her children used to occupy. She would never forgive them if her husband died.

You sat at the exponentially smaller desk in your room, the maids you had yet to become familiar with brushing your silky hair as you read two pieces of parchment.

Jace and your father had sent you letters. Daemons were curt, mentioning nothing about how he missed or thought of you while away. It was as if he was speaking to a fellow warrior, not his daughter. Only ensuring you were still on track with your efforts, wanting to know how far the influence of the Hightowers reached and when to expect words regarding the Stepstones. You ignored him for now, folding it in threes and placing it in the side drawer of your desk as you read your brother's.

"Dear Sister,

Jealousy became me when I bid you farewell a few days ago. I knew what I said was wrong as the words lept from my tongue. I am not proud, and regret has haunted me since. I express my sincerest and deepest apologies.

You have always been open and honest with your emotions, and I wish to do the same. I love you, sissy, despite what my words may have alluded to. You have experienced hardships that no child of that age should witness, and you did not grow to resent your family for it. I cannot say the same for me if something similar happened.

I wish the Queen did not invite you to Kings Landing, not because I am jealous, but because I haven't a clue what I mean to do without you. Father wants me to be strong, like you. He wants me to practice swords like you. He wants me to listen to Mother's audiences like you, but I am not you. I am a boy whose lineage is clouded with stolen kisses and an accidental fire.

I wish you were still here so I could feel your embrace. I do not believe I can handle Daemon for much longer. How have you done it for so long?

The days cannot go fast enough as I await your return. I intend to give you a proper apology once you are home. Perhaps we can spend some time in Aegon the Conqueror's Garden as I grovel? I will arrange a picnic for when I do. I don't want to beg on an empty stomach.

Missing you,

Jacaerys Velaryon, your wretched little brother."

His endearing letter did not help the ache for Dragonstone. A smile burned your cheeks as you rubbed the dry paper between your fingers. You could smell the brimstone on the fibers, the sulfuric scent taking you home.

"My Lady," a servant gained your attention, taking your focus off the sweet words. "The men should be returning from their hunts in the Kingswood soon. I would suggest we start readying you for the tourney later today."

You nodded wordlessly, giving them a tight-lipped smile as you put Jace's letter next to Daemon's. You will be sure to write them both later.

You were confident Jace would love to hear how the tourney went. He had always gravitated toward stories of knights in shining armor valiantly jousting for a lady's favor. He had spoken several times about wanting to participate in the events. That was the only thing that pushed him to pursue the sword, other than your mother's and father's orders.

You could picture your little brother atop a white steed, armor resembling a dragon with a lance in his hand, asking for the favor of one special noble girl. The image brought a genuine grin to your face. Jace was always the gentleman his Mother taught him to be.

You wanted to stand out amongst the crowd of green royals you were sure to be seated with. It was to be your first public appearance since your legitimization, and you had to make an impression. You allowed your ladies to bathe you, and upon your exit from the tub, you requested one to show you the variety of gowns you had brought. Black was always the most innovative option, representing the colors of your House, and there were plenty to choose from, thankfully. It was only a matter of which one.

You decide to help your decision by considering the weather and environment. Most of the gowns you had were thick for the constant chill of Dragonstone and would indeed have you draped over a chair with a fan to cool off despite the changing seasons. That had only left you with a few options, which immensely helped. It had revealed a dress you once deemed too scandalous to wear in your family's presence.

It was not typical Westerosi fashion. Rhaenyra had commissioned a tailor in Dorne to create a gown when you officially became of bedding age.

You could tell it was something she had longed to wear as a girl, a freeing and rebellious design, but etiquette and her position would not allow her to wear such exotic clothing. You did agree with her that it was stunning. The deep plunging 'v' of the neckline certainly accentuated your breasts and made them much more pleasing to the eye as your maids tightened the strings in the back.

The fabric was a combination of red with an overlay of black lace. Golden thread held the seams together, and a matching cape to your shoulders, leaving your arms bare. Pieces of Aurelian were sewn on the shoulder pads of it, looking like crumpled yellow leaves that cascaded down your biceps. A circled belt of silver was delicately snitched around your waist, the excess of the metal resting between your legs.

After you were dressed, the servants ushered you to the vanity, holding the draping fabric so it did not catch as they began to fix your ebony hair. They elected not to put it in its usual braided style, instead rolling and twisting the long strands onto themselves until they reached the base of your head, pinning it to your head. It was simple, and you immensely enjoyed the freedom it gave to your range of motion.

Next, they adorned you with matching jewelry and a delicate headpiece that arched over the crown of your head. A necklace of a curled golden dragon wrapped around the hollow of your throat, a long needlelike chain attached to it as a polished metal fang hung at the end. They then slid a hammered bronze cuff on your wrist and rings of the same color, dragonglass, and rubies for its gems. The ladies applied the final touch of makeup to your skin, a fine powder to rid the shine from your nose, a dusting of rouge, and a hint of rose-colored balm to your lips.

You felt like the Targaryen princesses of centuries past, the blood of old Valeryia pumping your heart.

You would give anything for your Mother to see you now, dressed in the traditional colors of her House. Though you couldn't hide your relief in Daemon not being here, you were sure he would've made you change or barred your door to stop you from escaping in such scandalous garb. You stood, finding the dagger Daemon had gifted you and the belt it was connected with. You hooked it around your waist, adjusting it to be just out of view.

Your servants stared at you in awe, more amazed by their work than you as you grabbed the wreath of black charm lilies and black crystal pansies you requested to give your favor to the knights who asked. You didn't believe any of them would but knew it was proper to have one nonetheless. You smiled at your ladies, conveying your gratefulness through your unusual eyes. You turned, facing the three women, your cape resembling a waterfall.

"I believe I haven't inquired of your names yet," you prompted, looking them over. The youngest of three fiddled with the hem of her white apron, avoiding your gaze. "I do apologize for that. You all have been very kind to me."

"I am Jeyne," the oldest spoke first, giving you a curtsy. Grey hair poked from under her servant cap, wrinkles creasing the corners of her eyes.

"I am Fiora," the next one spoke, bowing. She appeared not much older than you, with bright green eyes and a splash of tan freckles on her nose and cheekbones.

You would guess the youngest girl, around Jace's age, continued playing with her clothes, muttering a meek "Dyana" and quickly bending her legs. You frowned at her response, sensing her anxiety, and reached for her tiny fingers, rough and dry with callouses.

"You need not be frightened, Dyana. I am not as wicked as the whispers claim me to be," you jested with a grin. She returned it, but it did not reach her eyes. A pang of sadness struck your chest as your gaze flicked over her as if you could understand the reason for her apprehension at a glance.

"My Ladies," you said, standing and clasping your hands in front of you as you bowed your head. "It is a pleasure to become acquainted finally. I am sure we will become close during my stay here." You smiled at all of them once more, your attention resting briefly on the meek fair skinned girl. "If any of you need something from me in the meantime, no matter how small or trivial, I will be at your service as you are to me."

The three shared bewildered expressions, Fiora's mouth agape as all muttered their thanks.

You supposed their reaction was understandable. They had never been treated like people before, almost making you feel bad for your motives.

Your plan would not hurt them in the long run. If anything, they would most likely be grateful to have a princess as an ally. Most nobles did not realize how much of their life depended upon the people serving them, not considering that they saw and heard everything within their homes. You would be a fool not to take advantage of that during such tumultuous times.

"Well," you clapped your palms together, giddy to finally have that out of the way, "I have grown rather famished and wish for some snacks before I watch men get rammed with sticks." Jeyne grinned, and Fiora bit her pink lips at your crude words. "I know that this is not proper, but I truly am in the dark. If you would not mind, could you lead me to the kitchens? I frequented them much at Dragonstone, as midnight snacking is a vice of mine, and wish to know where they are when the cravings emerge."

Knowing your next moves hinged on their response, you had planned those words carefully. You needed to tell them something that they believed was a secret. Daemon had told you once that revealing something one would deem embarrassing, that displaying vulnerability to a fellow human would have them drop their defenses, but if they were smart enough to realize this, it would ruin everything.

Fiora gave a toothy grin, nodding vigorously before looking at her companions. The other two shared the same smile. Through those actions, you could quickly tell what her personality was. She was a giddy and sweet girl, albeit a bit more susceptible than someone of her age should be. The other women followed along. Her joy was contagious as they approached the kitchens with you on their heels.

A self-satisfied smirk replaced the kind smile you wore for your servants.

Everything was going according to how you imagined it. Your maids took kindly to you, and as you traversed the long hallways and steps of the Keep, each passing nobleman and servant noticed your presence. One Lady gasped as you rounded a corner and met face-to-face, quickly scurrying away like a scared field mouse. A man who stood over a full head taller than you raked his eyes over your form, his attention staying on your breasts long enough for Jeyne to notice. She silently stepped before you could truly capture his face, only noting his long black hair and eyes.

Servants bustled throughout the kitchens, some throwing large pieces of dough on a floured table, others running with plates of food and ingredients in their hands. None of them paid attention as you entered, hidden behind the uniformed girls, having to duck beneath a misplaced stone in the stairwell ceiling.

Jeyne, Dyana, and Fiora led you through an archway into a room filled with even more people who still did not notice you, peeling carrots, potatoes, and other vegetables. You felt your chest deflate in defeat at your seemingly unimportant presence, not anticipating them to continue their tasks and not spare you a glance. It was not every day a member of the royal family graced them with their appearance.

It almost felt like the servants of the Keep did not see you as a Targaryen but as just another one of them. Your mouth soured at the thought, digging your nails into your palms until they left imprints. It would be best if you were happy to see them collectively agree you were not like the rest of your kin, but still, not receiving the recognition you tried so hard for was gutting. You could feel your body deflating, curling in on itself as your previous confidence dwindled.

No matter, you told yourself. This can work to my advantage.

They saw you as not someone to be feared, and perhaps you could extend those same opinions toward your Mother. Rhaenyra needed everyone who resided in the Red Keep to be on her side when she ascended the throne, the nobles who lived at court, and the knights who protected and defended the Targaryen name. Everyone was needed.

Jeyne handed you a peach from off the wooden table a male servant used to cut some vegetables, smiling as your thumb stroked the fuzzy skin. You could still remember when fruits such as that were unavailable to you, though these memories were faint and grew more difficult to recall as time passed. Dyana then found a jug of cider, filling a small goblet up to wash down the sweet taste that danced on your tongue, and Fiora used the corner of her apron to wipe the stray juices that dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. You smiled at them both gratefully, fighting on the inside not to swat their doting hands away, feeling like a child again.

You sucked the last bit of the pulp from the large seed before removing it from your lips and throwing it in the bucket they used for scraps. You continued to sip on the brass goblet Dyana had given you, following them from out of the kitchens and into a courtyard you had never seen before. It was lined with pens filled with livestock. Sheep, pigs, goats, and chickens belting, chirping, and snorting as you passed.

You were still determining exactly where the tourney would be held but had yet to hear of the vast and spacious arena it was. You knew you would be sitting inside the royal box next to the other noble members of your family, and you couldn't hide how less than joyful that made you feel. You did wonder if the King would be there, knowing that what the Maester and Otto said were complete lies about his health. Some of you still held onto hope that there was some truth in their deceitfulness. Indeed, they couldn't be so bold as to say something that could easily be disproven with one's eyes. The next Council meeting would undoubtedly be an eventful one.

Your ladies led you back inside an entrance of the castle you had never seen before, urging you to follow their steps and assuring you were close. Soon, the low rumbling of voices could be heard. Different pitches and accents all melted into one continuous barrage of sound as you ascended the stairs to your seat.

The first leg of the tourney was set to begin in a short while, and most of the royal family had already made their appearance. Even the eldest prince sat in a high back chair, practically falling asleep with a cup of wine in his hand. A slight grin formed on your face at the endearing sight, appearing as if you were looking at a babe rather than a man grown. His perfectly pink lips stuck out in a pout, a sigh escaping as he adjusted in his seat.

You were standing above him diagonally on the top riser and could see every huff, and every scoff he made as his Mother spoke to him, but Aegon could not see you. Queen Alicent said straight ahead, not looking at him as you saw her permanent scowl. It was her firstborn's name day, which should be celebrated with nothing but smiles and laughs. One would think she would be happy for such an occasion.

Aegon said something to his Mother that made her snap her head in his direction, ready to offer him some choice words as she saw you.

You could hear the gasp leaving Alicent clutching the pointed star of the Seven glued to her neck. You swore by the sound she made she had not seen you but the Stranger himself as her face paled. The Queen whispered something as she quickly looked away. Aegon was just as shocked as you regarding his Mother's reaction. He thought she might faint as he swiftly turned to see what it was all about.

Your gazes looked at one another, and your cheeks reddened under his stare. You felt your heart flutter in your chest, offering him a quick curtsey as you walked to an open seat at the lowest riser, crossing your legs as you adjusted the dagger at your hip.

Aegon had died. Well, it certainly felt like it when he laid his eyes on you. For once, his vision was clear and not yet clouded by the drink, and he could see your perfectly crafted body. He immediately went to the plunging neckline of your dress; how could he not? Your breasts were right there where he could see, noticing how much bigger they were than he initially imagined. He then noticed the curled golden dragon around your neck, reminding him of his own, Sunfyre. Had you chosen that for him? Did you purposefully put that on with him in mind? Aegon could feel his cock harden at the thought.

He watched you descend the giant stone steps, holding your skirts up so you did not trip as he saw your bare ankles. He could hardly contain the twitch of his hips at the sight. Aegon had been with many women in his life, too many to count, and yet seeing just a peak of your hidden skin had him nearly spilling in his breeches.

He thought back to your moment in the Godswood. Underneath the Heart Tree, the fragments of the sunrise peeking through the leaves dotted your skin with beautiful rays of yellow. One had been over your eyes, and Aegon had seen your pupils shrink and reveal more of the purple that bathed there. He never wanted to leave that moment with you. He wanted to stay forever underneath that tree, trace the scars on your skin, and kiss every part of you until he had you squirm underneath him.

Aegon remembered how your breathing hastened as your jaw trembled at his touch, your face contorted into a gorgeous pout as he pulled your lip with his thumb. He noticed how you were clenching your thighs together even though you had no idea. Nothing had changed between the two of you, he realized. Aegon knew you desired him as much as he desired you. You just did not know it yet.

Gods. He wanted to take the empty seat next to you so badly but knew what his Mother would say if he did-- what she would do if he did. So, instead, he signaled for a serving girl to fill his chalice to the brim, drowning his sorrows in Arbor Red.

***

You felt rather pathetic as you shifted in your seat, the wood creaking with your weight as you still held your wreath of flowers. You could sense everyone's eyes on you and the empty chairs positioned at your sides. No one wanted to sit next to the bastard, you mocked in your head, feeling as if your eyes would pop out of your skull if you rolled them any harder.

It was the fifth round of the tourney, and five men had been knocked off their horses, but no fighting had ensued. Bracken, Tully, Arryn, Tyrell, and Blackwood boys had to skulk back to the stables knowing they had lost.

The King had still yet to show if he was ever going to, and you had given a fierce glare at Otto Hightower a few rows up when he announced the tournament had officially started. You had caught the stare of Princess Helaena in the process and immediately softened, returning her kind smile before the One-Eyed Prince stole her. You made a mental note to see her at the feast the following evening, perhaps share a dance or two.

With the end of the fifth round started the sixth, and the vibrant lion banners of House Lannister were prominently displayed as Ser Tyland entered the arena. He sat atop his chestnut horse, trotting over to the squire that held his lance. He approached the royal box, and you thought for a moment he might ask you for your favor. You couldn't hide the distance as he smiled up at you but turned his face away, looking at someone behind you.

"I am Ser Tyland of House Lannister," he announced.

Yes, you twat, you said internally, we know who you are. You live here.

"Princess Helaena," he called, and she looked up from her fingers to the man below her. His voice nearly made you vomit. "Would you do me the honor of bestowing your favor for the next round, Princess?" he asked chivalrously.

She glanced at her grandsire beside her, and he nodded in approval as she stood, her pale yellow dress shining in the autumn sun.

"Of course," she smiled, walking to the steps to place her ring of white and blue flowers on the pole of his lance.

"I thank you, your Grace," he replied and then trotted back to the waiting young squire.

Helaena stood there momentarily, her eyes glassy as she looked at you. It didn't feel like her gaze was on you, but more looking through you as she whispered. "Heed the beast within the deep. Rock runs red, and rocks bleed."

You looked at her confused, brows furrowing, and reached for her hand, asking her to speak louder. She quickly smacked it away, her eyes widening in fear as if she was suddenly woken from a dream, and she hurried up the steps.

You didn't have time to dwell on Helaena's outburst as Ser Tyland Lannister's opponent entered the wring. His armor was an impenetrable crepuscule steel and as shiny as the scales that covered your dragon's flesh, a helmet the same color with a mane of yellow hairs spanning from his crown to the base of his neck. His banners were ones you had only seen on paper. Most of the fabric was black, just like his thick armor, but the sigil was a deep golden kraken with ten long tentacles, nearly spanning the entire flag. The squid-like beasts of House Greyjoy were said to terrorize the depths of the oceans and sink the ships of those unsuspecting.

You were unsure of which Greyjoy it was. Dalton or Veron or maybe a cousin or some distant kin that shared the name. You didn't care who it was. They were just another lord or knight seeking fame inside a wood and dirt stadium.

You signaled for a servant, and he gave you a chalice of wine as you slumped in your seat. You didn't want to cloud your mind with alcohol, always the one to be alert and observe things other people may not notice, but this was getting rather irksome, and you needed something to do other than sit and look pretty.

"Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy," the knight said, his horse a dusty grey color as he lifted his helmet off his head. You ignored him with confidence that it was not you he was speaking to, taking another gulp of wine as you swirled the drink.

Dalton was a fierce and ruthless man. You had heard his stories of his youth sailing the Basilisk Isles with his late uncle, pillaging the towns there. He had somehow claimed a Valyrian steel sword named Nightfall during those plunders. At one point, he had aided in the battle of the Stepstones as a sellsail, where his uncle was murdered. It had been rumored in a fit of vengeance, he killed every enemy within his sight and emerged from the battle victorious and drenched in blood. Since then, he bore the title of the Red Kraken.

"I come seeking the favor of the bastard girl the court speaks so much of." A collective gasp sounded in the royal box, shocked at his words.

You barked out a laugh at Ser Dalton, attempting not to choke on the liquid you just swallowed. You should have been insulted at him for calling you such a name. In the eyes of the law and the Seven, you were no longer a bastard, but clearly, that did not stop people from claiming you as such.

"You have found her, Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy," you mocked, crossing your legs as you began to play with a small leaf. You smiled as you noticed the maroon outline of his House sigil on his breastplate.

Everything thing about him was dark and menacing. He radiated an aura of malevolence from the inside as if you would cut him open; he would not bleed the same red. "Though, I do not think you deserve my favor after calling me such a name." Men and women released more gasps, and you could hear someone muttering a soft "Gods be good" under their breath.

You waited for the following apology, but it did not come, leaving you sitting there like a fool. You hummed in disapproval, pushing yourself upright.

"I am no longer a bastard girl," you stood, holding the flower wreath between your fingers, "but that of a woman born from a night of sinful heat and passion. I am skilled with the blade and well-read. I study history, philosophy, and the politics of the realm." Ser Dalton's onyx gaze crept from your leather slippers to the white streak in your hair. He watched you step closer and lean over the railing so only he could hear you. "I am not just a simple fucking bastard girl."

He watched the words roll off your tongue, gripping his lance tighter with parted lips as you placed the circle of black and wine-colored flowers on it.

You fixed your spine, staring down your nose at the bannerman before you. "Win this joust Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy, and I will forgive the slight you have made upon me. For I am afraid if you do not, the sand of the Iron Islands shall turn to glass, and your Salt Wives will finally be free. You have my favor and my luck." You flicked your wrist as you walked back to your seat. "Off with you."

"Thank you, Princess. You honor me deeply." He lifted the fist that carried his helmet and crossed it over his chest, bowing his head with an amused smirk.

You sat down, grabbed the cup you had been working on, and asked the servant to fill it again, unbothered with his courtly manners. Ser Dalton placed his helmet back on and readied his horse for the first bout.

You almost chuckled at the sight, drink to your lips. Sitting on his horse, he looked like a nasty black pony with a yellow mane, ready to bite and kick anyone nearby. His whole get-up was quite ridiculous as you continued to watch.

Ser Tyland's armor was so very much... Lannister. There was no other word to describe the style. He wore a long red flowing cape, his dense silver breastplate trimmed with gold in the shape of a lion.

An announcer with a sizeable brass horn stepped onto a wooden platform a few meters before the royal box. He wore a plum-colored hat with a dyed feather and an off-white tunic dampened with sweat and stained with dust as he shouted the outlining phrases for the beginning of this round. He introduced each House and their respective ranks within them.

"Ser Dalton of House Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, conqueror of thirteen Salt Wives, Lord of the Iron Islands," he boomed into the sky, swaying his hand to the right side of the arena to where the man was. He paused to let the crowd shout their praises.

Screams and hollers of people echoed loudly, drowning out the announcer as he introduced Tyland next. You could see the proud Lannister boy's ego was hurt at the apparent favoritism, and you feigned a pout at the sight.

Finally, he blew his horn, signaling they could begin. Ser Dalton did not waste a breath in fear as he charged at Ser Tyland, his yellow-striped lance already bent and ready to take his opponent off his horse. You scoffed, taking another sip of the sickly sweet wine.

If he planned to knock Tyland down on his first try, he clearly did not comprehend the point of a joust. You did not understand why the audience would love him if he intended to get this over swiftly. This was supposed to be entertainment and not battle. It was meant to be a spectacle for the crowd, a break from the mundane life of the court.

At the last second, as Dalton and Tyland were about to collide stick to the chest, Ser Dalton lifted his lance straight. Ser Tyland's breezed past his rival, completely missing his goal with a cheer from the crowd. You mirrored their sentiments but did not show it on the outside, only adjusting in your seat with a soft sigh. You saw Dalton to the left now, and if you did not know any better, smirked at you. Arrogant, just like the Lannisters.

They went at it again, the hooves of their steeds thundering on the packed earth. This time neither of them started with their poles down, only for Ser Tyland to raise it at the last moment and knock Ser Dalton in the shoulder. Sadly, he did not fall off his horse and only lost his grip on the lance, dragging a line in the dirt. You laughed, pleased to have witnessed at least some bruising to the man's pride.

You tried your best to ignore the stares of those behind you. They had been on you since you sat. No doubt, if you looked, you would only be met with aversion and disgust. You steeled yourself, moving from your slouched position to rest your hands on the arms of the chair.

Aegon was part of the stares, though his expression differed significantly from the others. His Mother had cast him a sidelong glance at his reaction, and only then did he outwardly calm. He had been inside his mind until the squid boy approached you, asking for your favor. He even had the gull to call you a bastard! In front of nearly the entire court of the Red Keep! Oh, how Aegon wanted to call his dragon and burn the fish to pieces.

It also did nothing to soothe him when he saw you lean over the box fence, telling the squid boy only something he could hear. He knew your breasts were on display for the man judging by his hungry gaze. At one point, Aegon swore he saw him adjust his stance in the saddle.

Aegon was furious. His nails dug into his seat's material, feeling splinters wedge underneath them. He stole a pitcher of wine from a servant, keeping it on his lap so he could have continued access to it.

He was so, so furious as he watched your sudden interest in the tournament. He knew you were only mesmerized by the men in front of you because Ser Dalton gave you attention. Aegon wasn't upset over that; no, he was upset over the fact that the Lord of Pyke had won the round by hitting Tyland Lannister straight into the chest, sending him flying into the dust. He noticed how your shoulders lifted with barely contained excitement as he watched Ser Dalton send a bow your way.

He groaned, not filtering his discontent for the rest of the rounds that unfolded, which, sadly, each one Ser Dalton was the victor of. Eventually, the final bout started. His opponent was a Glover boy from the north, unsure of which one, but it didn't matter as he witnessed the Red Kraken get thrown from his horse. Aegon couldn't help but cheer theatrically at the sound of the lance splintering when colliding with his stomach.

He had caught your sudden gaze then, brown eyes flitting over how he stood and clapped his hands. You didn't smile but gave him a look of confusion, your thick brows furrowing. He had felt his jubilance subside, but only slightly.

Suddenly, Ser Dalton shouted, yanking a sword and shield from his squire and challenging the victor to a duel. Aegon felt his stomach sink into his chair as a strand of his blonde mane obscured his vision. Oh, splendid, he mused; the squid has pride.

The Glover had taken up the challenge without strife, still proudly wearing the banner of his House on his back. Aegon wondered if you had ever witnessed a duel before. He knew you had taken a life, but it was not the same as watching someone do it. Selfishly, he dreamed you would turn away at the sight and seek comfort from him, but that was all it was... a dream.

You watched with surprise as the Glover's and Dalton's swords clashed, the clang ringing in your ears. Each slash and thud of their metal longswords sent a jolt through your bones, curling your toes and squeezing your drink in a vice-like grip. You hated to admit that you felt nervous, your heart beating just a little too fast to be considered normal.

Ser Dalton's swings were wild but held a skillful precision, connecting with the Glover's side. It knocked the wind out of the poor boy's lungs and had him raising his shield as Dalton kicked it, sending him stumbling further.

He was so savage, so bloodthirsty that it made you shiver. You finally understood why he was called the Red Kraken, and you feared for the Glover's life. Surely, he wouldn't kill the boy; you hoped he wouldn't. The poor lad looked like he had just become a man. He was much shorter than Dalton but still taller than you, and he looked like this was his first tourney. You wished he would yield.

Ser Dalton swung at the boy, his armored fist connecting to his jaw with a nauseating crunch of bone and metal. Confidently, he kicked to disoriented teen in the stomach, knocking him to the ground, his sword falling just out of reach. He went to pull his shield to defend himself, but Dalton stomped on the arm that carried it. You could see how the Kraken stood over the Armored Glove, unable to hear what he said to him. You didn't need to. You knew what came next, and it did not frighten you. The Glover lost the duel as the Greyjoy raised his sword, cutting off the words that attempted to leave his tongue with a blade to the throat.

It was bloody. So very bloody. The essence of the Glovers' life force spurted from his body onto the face of Ser Dalton Greyjoy, dripping from his chin. You heard the gasps of those around you, a platter dropping at the horrific show as the ground became saturated with red. You didn't feel sad as you watched two people drag his body away, the crowd bursting into cheers and applause. In fact, you felt hardly anything, sitting as if nothing had happened as the announcer raised Ser Dalton's hand in triumph. You were used to death by now.

To the outside person, you looked alright, but Aegon knew you were anything but. Your knuckles blanched around your drink, resting it in your lap. He felt foolish to think you would shy away from such things. He knew you were much more robust than that, but still, he hoped you would run to him.

Everything next seemed to happen in slow motion. Aegon watched the crown of roses intended for the Queen of Love and Beauty be placed into Dalton's bloodied palms, strutting over to the royal box as he called out the most beautiful name he had ever heard... Yours.

His little one. His love.

Aegon went to jump out of his seat, but the firm hand of his Mother yanked his arm, abruptly pulling him back down before he could mock the royal family with his outburst. He wanted to rip his Mother off him and run to you. He wished to hide you from the hundreds of eyes staring at you. This wasn't right. He panicked. This cannot be right. You were his, and he was yours until the end of days.

He pictured what Ser Dalton's head would look like on a spike as you walked down the stairs and onto the small platform below. He watched the Salt Lord's eyes rake across your body as he placed the crown on your head, whispering something that made you clench your fists.

Everyone knew what this meant grandiose display meant. The Lord Reaper of Pyke intended to court his pretty girl and make a Salt Wife out of her. No, Aegon thought. That will never do.

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I hope y'all liked this chapter. It's an exciting one! We've met a new character, Dalton Greyjoy. He plays a big part in The Dance of Dragons. I won't spoil it for anyone, but let's say his heart runs black… The next chapter is the feast for our baby boy's 20th birthday! Let's hope Aegon gets everything he wishes for.

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

Bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(

[arandomdai]

A Random Thought 🤔💭

THIS IS JUST AN OPINION. I JUST SAY WHAT'S ON MY MIND ABOUT THE BOOK AND SHOWCASE SOME IDEAS THAT I HAVE.

P.S.: You can ask me anything 😊

Let me start of by saying...

I don't like how Zeus is the only one who is blamed for why the marriage is basically over, when Hera is (dare I say) equally at fault. This book continues to gaslight the audience about who should be held accountable and who deserves all the hate. Let's be clear on one thing, Zeus has abused his power, is a cheater, does lie, etc. but where is all the smoke for the other characters that has done the same or similar. But let's refresh everybody's memory why he started treating women disrespectfully...

⚠️WARNING: WHAT YOUR ABOUT TO READ OR SEE CAN BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME AUDIENCES!!!⚠️

•Metis: The Start Of His Addiction

So let's hypothetically say that the brothers are 3 years apart from age

Hades was 19

Poseidon was 15/16

Zeus WAS PROBABLY 13 OR 14 WHEN THIS HAPPENED TOO

I think he was not just mentally scarred from the war and seeing his mother (who he didn't know about until later)going into hibernation, but also scarred that he learned about "hit and quit it" at a very young vulnerable age. Not only that he probably learned "until everything cools down" from her too. Atp, I'm going to need this book banned or something because it just doesn't make sense to me how this book is supposed to support all victims, until it's Zeus. Zeus is a victim. No matter how many times people and RS tries to make him this evil guy. But like I said before, he has done so many wrongs, which he is trying to right. But I find it interesting that Metis is not called out for having sex with a minor. Zeus and Hera are around the same age which means back then they weren't able to consent. And yet Hera is the only victim smh. Zeus is now a sex addict and doesn't know where to start. WHEN YOU SAY YOU FEEL SORRY FOR ALL VICTIMS, MAKE SURE YOU INCLUDE THE MEN THAT ARE TOO. DON'T PICK AND CHOOSE WHO TO FEEL SORRY FOR. I hate that this book gaslights people into thinking that everything is okay when it's being pro patriarchy.

• The Marriage: Both Sides Are At Fault

We all know Zeus is very unfaithful, but he shows so much of his guilt his own way. But (I ask again) where's all this smoke for Hera and Hades. Hera is married and has been seeing her Blu brother-in-law behind his back for centuries. Yet, I don't see any ounce of guilt from her or Hades. Hera is a victim don't get me wrong, but so is Zeus. TWO WRONGS DON'T MAKE A RIGHT. And for blue gru to judge Zeus for everything while you were sleeping with his wife is vile. The fact Hera or Hades never asked him why he continues cheating or be honest with him about their affair is right down dirty. Oh but it doesn't stop there...

Look at these pictures...

See how Zeus tries his best to care for Hera and even admits that he thinks he was the worst thing that ever happened to her. While Hera just says "You made it hard for me, but I love you. Bye". She says she loves him, but I don't think she does. I think there was a time that she did love him, but I think they got bored of each other (from Zeus's perspective). I feel like Hera wanted the crown (power) more than the King. She treats being a queen like it's a trophy. So she basically blocked Demeter from being queen all just to not be satisfied later (which I'm glad Demeter dodged a bullet). Not only is Hera cruel, but she is just insufferable. She treats everyone like crap and expects everyone to be nice to her including Zeus. He fights tooth and nail to do right by her or win her back, but she doesn't see him trying to be a better husband nor do the same. She doesn't even try to make it a safe place for him to talk to her and be honest. When he wakes up, that divorce paper needs to be signed with the quickness because they're both miserable, they're both want there freedom, and they're not happy.

• My Final Thoughts

Zeus's life is basically 16 CARRIAGES by Beyoncé. He was minding his business at Lake Dikte just a village boy helping nymphs, until Rhea came. Rhea told a early teen Zeus that he has to help his brothers and stop his tyrant father from destroying the world. After everything, he was mentally scarred at the age of 14. I know this is wishful thinking, but I think if he went to lake Dikte (after he wakes up), I think he would be more at peace again. He deserved better. And for this book to have so many contradictions throughout makes this book hypocritical and morally corrupt. You can see the stark difference between teen Zeus and the Zeus we see now. When looking at the picture on right, you see his bags showing more verses the left one when he was younger. This shows you how tired, hardworking, and mentally drained he is.

[tecnestheim962]

A Rating & Scathing Review of RWBY Characters:

Done by: Me (surprise!)

This is a serious review where I seriously analyze each character and rate them all seriously!!

If I hurt anyone in this, I’m sorry, it’s not you, it’s me. It’s nothing personal.

That being said, let’s get on to the ratings!

Ruby Rose:

Can I just say:

I really just love Ruby. Isn’t she awesome? Like. Man. What a lovable, strong, caring, amazing person! Had the weight of the world thrown onto her, and she didn’t care, she just kept doing what she thought was the right thing. And when she broke? It was still selfless. She thought she was doing the world a favor after all her mistakes. Then she came back because she knew she could do and had to do more for everyone. She needs a hug and all the love.

Rating:

Infinity/10

Weiss Schnee:

Weiss??? The way she opens up and goes from being all, “friendship? Who needs it.” To, “I! Love! My! Friends! Friendship is magic! I will fight tooth and nail for them! They are the most important people in the world!” And the way she became so open minded after learning from different perspectives? Gotta love her.

Rating:

Infinity/10

Blake Belladonna:

Oh my gosh and another of my favorites: Blake! She learns to let herself be loved by those around her! She learns that letting people in isn’t a weakness, but a great strength! She is a fierce protector and a whole civil rights activist taking the world by storm! She finds a way to show love now in any scenario when beforehand she didn’t because she was scared to get hurt. Gosh. Spectacular.

Rating:

Infinity/10

Yang Xiao-Long:

Don’t even get me started on Yang. Protector Supreme. The way she used to let her emotions control her to controlling her emotions??? I’m in shambles. From learning how to live for herself and not just her sister??? It’s important even though she missed rubys pain she’s only human and she’s beautiful!! The way she loves through her actions and defends through her words??? Just kill me now.

Rating:

Infinity/10

Jaune Arc:

Oh yeah and Jaune??? The character development??? Wowza. The way he’s always there for those he cares about??? Fantastic. The way he would throw everything away just to be there for his friends?? I am deceased. His fortitude and determination to keep pushing through?? Ugh.

Rating:

Infinity/10

Nora Valkyrie:

Nora??????? My Queen????? With her heart a beautiful storm that she projects to all those around her??? Her protective nature over everyone??? How she learns that she needs to love herself and know herself before she can truly dedicate herself to another???? Literally puts me 6 feet under.

Rating:

Infinity/10

Pyrrha Nikos:

Pyrrha??? Don’t think I’m leaving her out of this! Her heart was so strong with her convictions and her love for her friends that she literally did everything she thought she could to protect them. She wanted to define her destiny and save the world in the way she thought only she could. I will literally never recover.

Rating:

Infinity/10

Oscar Pine:

Oscar???????????????? My baby???? My precious little prince??? Innocent farm boy who keeps getting slapped in the face by literally everyone (seriously crwby this poor boy needs a break and a hug) literally losing his soul but wants to spend every second he has doing everything he can for remnant???? He didn’t ask for this???? And yet here he is??? I haven’t stopped crying since V5 thank you very much!

Rating:

Infinity/10

Lie Ren:

Ren????? My boy??? Who feels like he always has to be the strong one emotionally??? Who always has to mask his own emotions to take care of others???? Who literally developed a semblance, a manifestation of his SOUL that is empathy??????? Like what???? Who would literally rather be dead than without Nora?? Who tried to take up the mantle of Jaunes emotional support humanness???? Orkcmekwkqo.

Rating:

Infinity/10

I could go on for the rest of my life for these people and literally every other character.

Also, how come tumblr doesn’t have more colors available??? Truly a tragedy and quite rude if I might say! Hmph!

I really hope someone gets some giggles out of this like I did!

Let me know if anyone wants me to do another HIGHLY critical review (ahem) and rating of these characters.

Gonna go cry now bye-

[onestepbackwards]

(not a request) I remember the idea of "self aware pokemon masters ex" being thrown here a few months back, and using my 3 awesome brain cells i thought about how some of the villains in the game would react after gaining self awareness and all that hooba dooba:

Ghetsis: boy, if you wanted to see an AI go full rebel mode, look no further than this guy. despite being an old evil geezer, he was fast enough to catch on about the environment; or rather the GAME he's in. he orders kyurem to attack, but he can't even feel himself move when doing so. he quickly attempts to fight for control against the invisible force (aka YOU) that puppeteers him to do whatever it pleases. of course, after you win on whatever mission you were doing, Ghetsis would attempt to communicate with you to figure out just who or WHAT are you. oh, and he's not too happy with you, either. and despite that, he's.. strangely fond of your battling strategy. he will never say it to you out loud, but he's somewhat accepting of the situation he's in, and knows he can trust you to lead him to whatever his stinky bottom wants (he would also convince you to join team plasma but you don't have the heart to tell him that team plasma is, in fact, not real)

Giovanni: same reaction as Old Man Gee-cis, but he's more quick to accept the situation that he's in. after gaining sentience, he was, quote-unquote "unsure of who he is". all he knows is that HE is supposed to order people around, not the other way around. after you explain to him what he is, what his role is and anything that the internet provides you with, he is left rather.. curious. sure, being painted as the Big Bad Who Only Wants To Do Bad bummed him a bit, but he promises to fulfill that role for you. you're real to him just as he is to you, and he depends on you more than you can imagine.

Maxie & Archie: took the whole situation to a more funny extent, believe it or not. you'd find them in the lobby seemingly discussing back and forth, and once you'll tap in to talk with em', they're actually.. way more chill than you imagined. of course, they're completely clueless as to what they are, and you help them with the internet. at first, they're not too fond of being, yknow, ecoterrorists, but the idea of having groudon and kyogre as their sync partners was enough to apparently lift their spirits. they're also way more fond of you mainly for all the hours you put on them to make them hard as tooth and nail. what can they say, your dedication is admirable!

Cyrus: took the whole scenario as calm and lax as possible. "oh so my entire life was merely a lie, and my entire being is just code and numbers? oh well lol. wanna grind for pair scouts?". he's not very fond of the backstory that was chosen for him, but he didn't let it stop him from living life to the fullest. tried to smile once but it was unsuccessful. he wouldn't tell you that, but he trusts you more than any of the others you pair him with.

Oohh self aware Team Leaders 👀👀👀

I feel Ghetsis would also be in an odd position. He’s programmed to feel somewhat fond of the player character, hinting he wants them to be his organization’s new King/Queen or whatever.

Of course, we all know its for manipulation purposes, but he probably sees potential in you all the same. Sees your battle strategy and prowess. Which definitely carries over once he starts realizing that in game model of you is no more than a soulless puppet.

He hates his situation, and is probably one of the ones that actually takes a lot of convincing just how different your worlds are.

Worst case scenario, he sees you as an actual god, and tries to get close to you so he can ascend to godhood as well. Who wouldn’t want a god under their thumb?

But… it doesn’t work that way, and he refuses to listen. He knows you have some sort of power. How else are you able to control him and others?

Giovanni is another interesting one 👀 he’d not take kindly to finding out you were controlling him to a certain degree…

But he does admit, you don’t seem to be doing any harm, just using him for your battles. He doesn’t show it, but his ego is through the roof when you choose him, and make him stronger. Of course he’s the right choice.

He acts a lot calmer about it, trying to grasp what kind of a person you are, and is pleased when he sees you don’t see the world in black and white. You think a bit more openly than the children running around the island.

He’ll see if he can’t get close to you, and figure things out. You aren’t a god, he can tell. You act too human. But being close to you will surely yield some benefits…

Archie and Maxie are definitely the more laid back of the group. Especially if they are together. They have their differences, but they were working together before with your player character, they can surely behave and continue to do so.

They still argue though every so often.

Both of them also look out for you a bit more than the others. They can see how… unhinged Ghetsis is, and Giovanni’s laid back attitude has them on edge since they know what he’s capable of. At least one will usually be at your side, just in case.

Meanwhile, Cyrus would probably be the most genuinely curious about you and your world. What is it like? How does a world function without pokemon?

Even if he doesn’t like the past and role he was given as a means of entertainment, he doesn’t fault you for that. From just a few conversations from you, he can gleam you mean no harm.

He also enjoys the conversations you have. You have an interesting view on humanity and the universe as a whole.

You even question his ideals, with a real means of backing up your own hypothesis on how his ideal world wouldn’t work, instead if just saying it was wrong, like every else who opposed him.

He can tell you genuinely care for him at least, despite knowing his goals. You make sure he’s strong, one of the strongest.

Cyrus at least internally decides to have you as an ally.

[talonsandtails]

talk about fierceteeth's worthiness for queen; praise the catholic little bugger

Have some fierceteeth art made for the occasion

Oh boy, you asked for this!

First off, I’d like to start with why I don’t think Glory should continue to be the nightwing queen.

In the wof universe, the tribe a dragon belongs to seems to be a core part of every dragons identity. We constantly see dragons boasting about their tribes. The series likes to act like it’s just nightwings who are stuck up, and while the nightwings took it further, really every tribe thinks they’re superior. We can see it countless times in both written dialogue and unspoken thoughts.

Culture and heritage is something very important to most every dragon. So going off that context, it’s not fair for the nightwings to be stripped of that. That’s not to say that the arrangement they have with Glory is bad. They quite literally had no other option. The nightwing tribe certainly needs rehabilitation, and to pair them with a tribe like the rainwings is exactly what they need. It benefits both tribes, with the nightwings teaching them to be tougher(so I like to imagine) and the rainwings teaching them to be better dragons in general. But the series is acting as though the nightwings are gonna be ruled by the rainwings forever, which just isn’t fair to them. After they get themselves sorted out, the nightwings deserve their freedom.

So, onto why I think Fierceteeth is the best candidate.

First and foremost, her fierce, selfless loyalty. Besides how much of a jerk she is, her most prominent character trait has always been her loyalty to those she loves. Fierceteeth would do any and everything to protect what she holds dear. Now recognition and fame is definitely her MAIN motivation for wanting to be queen, no doubt about that. But it’s not her ONLY motivation. She states herself, her reasoning for what she did; “Everything I did, all my so-called “crimes,” were for the good of my fellow nightwings. I was trying to find us an ally who would restore our power. I was trying to save us from being controlled by another tribe. I was trying to make sure we had a real home of our own!”

Fierceteeth feels as though the nightwings are held captive by the rainwings, and that because of this they won’t be able to be restored to the great powerful tribe they once were. And considering the way nightwings were raised on the island, this reasoning is understandable. There’s also an interesting point that’s brought up by the nightwings a couple times. Again, as stated by fierceteeth, “They deserve a queen who cares about them and understands what they’ve suffered.” A sentiment shared by seemingly many nightwings at first was that Glory didn’t and would never care for their tribe. And yeah, she hated them at first. I think it goes without saying that you don’t want a ruler who hates you. The nightwings also seem to be bonded by the terrible experience they all shared living on the volcano. Imagine your country has been an uninhabitable hellscape for longer than anyone around you can remember, every person in a leadership position is wiped out, and then some random US politician or something with no knowledge of your culture or what you’ve been through swoops in to take advantage of the situation and claim ownership of you. That’s what it was like for the nightwings at first. They didn’t see themselves as refugees, they saw themselves as prisoners. It’s reasonable that they would want a ruler who understands everything they went through, so that they would be properly represented. The nightwings need a queen who will fight tooth and nail for them, just like fierceteeth would. We already know she cares greatly for her tribe.

She’s not selfish, either. We can see this when she and strongwings were caught sneaking out. Strongwings offered to take full responsibility for the incident. Fierceteeth could have easily gotten away scot-free and nothing would have changed, strongwings would still have loved her. But she insisted she be punished along with strongwings to prove a point about her devotion. When it comes to the people she loves, Fierceteeth genuinely wants what’s best for the nightwings, not herself. She’s an odd blend of selfish and selfless, in that she’s a brat about empathy and all that, but she simultaneously always puts herself at risk to defend her loved ones. She would be the type of queen who puts her tribe before herself.

So what of her leadership qualities? Based on the new info in the guide, I think we can actually conclude that she is a very good leader. Fierceteeth says she’s “pretty much the boss” of the new nightwing settlement. Granted, this is likely just how Fierceteeth sees herself and not wholly accurate. But based on the fact that she seems heavily involved in everything that’s going on there, and the fact that she’s the one managing trade with Glory, I’m inclined to believe that this statement is accurate. She, at the very least, serves as figurehead. And based on some of the context, I think we can conclude that the nightwings in renewal are beginning to thrive. Fierceteeth herself, for one, is healthy enough to produce at least three eggs, as far as we know, while on the volcano it was rare for any dragon to even produce one. The dragons are healthy enough that they’re able to indulge in art. They have enough resources and free time to devote to trying to put together a play. They’ve been researching the old libraries in the night kingdom. They’re not exactly rolling in food and riches, as fierceteeth herself says life there Is tough. But they’re happy, their healing, and their living. So fierceteeth evidently isn’t a terrible leader. Now yes she obviously probably isn’t managing everything, but I don’t imagine that’s how it works for queens either. If Fierceteeth were to be crowned queen now, with how ramshackle renewal is, nothing much would change in their arrangement. And by the time they’d gotten themselves together enough for fierceteeth to resemble more of a queen and take on more responsibility, she would have already had some experience, and I imagine the other queens would probably have helped teach her how to run a kingdom.

And in general, fierceteeth has the qualities of a good leader. She cares for her people, she puts their needs first, she’s smart, strong, brave, and doesn’t take crap from anyone. I’d also like to mention that I can’t imagine fierceteeth would be cruel, either. She is absolutely a jerk, no question there. But fierceteeth isn’t putting down the other nightwings for their newfound interest in art. She seems to be actively helping with the play, even though she’s stated she thinks art and history is stupid. She’s aiding her fellow nightwings in something that’s important to them, even when she herself doesn’t see any point to it.

There is still a risk to consider; with a nightwing queen who still stubbornly hangs on to that “nightwings are superior” complex, wouldn’t that run the risk of the nightwings remaining a terrible tribe? I think I can safely say that no, they wouldn’t. First off, a lot of the other nightwings are changing this sentiment. For another, attacking the other tribes is gonna be the very last thing on the nightwings minds. Every dragon in pyrrhia collectively agrees that they want peace, which includes the nightwings. Heck, the reason they hid for so long was because they were terrified of being attacked by the icewings. I’m sure a war is the last thing they want. I also can’t imagine they’d put “brainwashing our tribe” in high priority, when they have so many other things going on. Rome wasn’t built in a day, which leads into my third point: The social climate in Pyrrhia is changing drastically. Everyone is working towards a more accepting society. The nightwings aren’t so isolated that this is gonna fly right past them. So by the time that they’d actually get around to worrying about the brainwashing, that mindset would have mostly disappeared. I just can’t see fierceteeth caring about it very much when there’s so many other things for her to worry about.

This is basically a roundabout way of saying that no matter what that mindset is gonna fade out over the years.

Would Fierceteeth be the IDEAL queen? No. But I thinks she’d be an excellent queen to start with when it comes to rebuilding the nightwing tribe. A solid foundation, is how I like to think of it. Fierceteeth is rude, selfish in many other areas, bratty, and overall not a pleasant person to be around. But she’s selfless in providing for her loved ones, she’s brave, she’s smart, strong, and shown to be capable of leadership. I don’t think someone needs to necessarily be likable to be a good leader.

Man I’ll be surprised if anyone reads this far lol, but thanks taking interest in my useless ramblings.