#Volantis friend tag

[bellygunnr]

Hi Gunny! ' v ' I hope you've been well! I am so excited to see you have gotten into Transformers! For the single word prompt ask, how about Transformers MTMTE, with "Hum".

HELLO!!! HAPPY TO HEAR FROM YOU!!!

Transformers has been a ride so far-- I've been a long time fan of MTMTE, but only recently getting into the franchise as a whole. Thank you so much for the prompt!!!

----

For once, the medibay is quiet. No one's injured except those who already were, and they were injured into stasis, so no one has any reason to talk. Sure, it's slightly fuller than normal, but Ratchet is pleased that it's from proper staffing than another noble proceed gone wrong. Or the crew trying to kill each other. Or someone else trying--

There's just a lot that can go wrong. That has gone wrong. But this?

This... is fine. First Aid is sharp, ambitious, and sure of himself. He wisely doesn't comment on Ratchet's myriad of ancient lab tools. Ambulon is capable, experienced in that quiet, unassuming way. They've both got their quirks.

Like snagging the Autobrands off corpses or, in this case, humming very loudly.

Ratchet glances up at First Aid as the harmonic grows louder. They share a matching bemused smile, optics having caught each other in solidarity. Ambulon continues to putter around them, set on organizing the parts of the medibay Ratchet hadn't had time to get to.

He hums. He taps. He mumbles.

And it would be annoying if First Aid didn't look so perplexed and relieved, and Ratchet's smart enough to know that Delphi had been a special kind of hell, and that they should probably encourage this behavior but that's disturbingly Rungian so maybe not.

It's whatever. A drawer rattles, Ambulon beeps, First Aid forwards a packet to Ratchet's data pad, and no one is actively dying.

So it's whatever, and it is good.

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon XII - Revelations.

Summary:

Rhaenyra summons Aemond to Kings Landing.

*Features an Aemond POV*

Warning(s): Secret Reveal, Language, Anger, Threats to 'Burn down Kings Landing', Breaking Glass/Throwing Things, Prophecy, Vulnerability, Uncle/Niece Incest.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 3786

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

As they landed within the castle walls, Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and disbelief wash over him. His eyes were fixed on Vaelys as she gracefully dismounted Vermithor. Aemond stood transfixed, watching her stroke the bronze dragon's scales with a gentle hand, a look of pride on her face.

But alongside that awe, a pang of guilt stabbed at his heart. It was he who had been responsible for the death of Archonei. His control over Vhagar had failed and Vaelys had lost her cradle mate as a result and for a while he thought he hated Vhagar for what she’d done, but in truth it was himself that he hated.

He was responsible, had he not chased Vaelys through the skies then Vhagar wouldn’t have had the opportunity to kill Archonei.

But if Vhagar didn’t kill Archonei, then he wouldn’t have brought Vaelys to Kings Landing and the outcome of the war would be very different.

He wouldn’t have his wife and he certainly wouldn’t have his children.

The two years he spent in exile had allowed his bond with Vhagar to grow stronger, he’d never been across the narrow sea before, and he had to trust that she would keep him safe.

They spent weeks exploring, from flying over the ruins of old Valyria, and the red waste lands near Qarth to the grass lands of the Dothraki sea before finally settling in Volantis.

Of course, the money he’d taken with him didn’t last for the entirety of his stay, and sometimes Vhagar would be too lazy to hunt for herself, so he would have to pay for livestock.

Due to it’s location, Volantis was at risk of raids and Aemond was more than happy to help defend the city in exchange for funds, the Volantene agreed and were more than happy to host a Prince and his dragon-plus it didn’t hurt to mention that he was married to the future Queen of Westeros, of course the Volantene didn’t need to know the whole story surrounding his exile and they certainly didn’t need to know about Aemond’s fears of being set aside by Vaelys upon his return.

His fears of course were unfounded, and his wife was waiting for him on the beach of Dragonstone.

She was so beautiful, her silver hair longer than it been before, tied in a simple braid, the loose whisps fluttering in the sea breeze, her lips curved into a smile and her amethyst eyes shinning with tears, as she gazed upon him.

Never had anyone looked at him like that, like he was the only person in the world.

He spent the night fucking her into the mattress, over and over again. Gods his sexual appetite was ravenous-two years with nothing but his fist, of course many whores had tried their luck with him, but he’d declined every single one of them.

The thought of sticking his cock in a woman that wasn’t his wife made his stomach turn.

Of course, there was one woman, but she was never anything more to him than a friend. At first he had found her interesting, given her area of expertise, and her ability to see things in the flames, but what she had shown him, had terrified him.

As he laid entwined with his wife, he’d told her everything-well almost everything as that would no doubt come later.

As much as he wanted to tell Rhaenyra to stick her summons up her arse, he knew he couldn’t. Out loud anyway.

It was inevitable really, he knew he wouldn’t be able to return and not have her stick her nose in, not even two days and the raven arrived.

Can’t a man spend time with his children and fuck his wife in peace.

Speaking of fucking – his wife had looked truly delicious that morning and just before they were due to fly to Kings Landing, he bent her over the desk in their chambers and stuck his cock in her.

His request to her afterwards had been absolutely depraved.

"Do not clean yourself issa zaldrīzes, I want you to put your small clothes back on so that you feel my seed against you all day-only tonight will I permit you to clean yourself, after I've filled you up again" (My dragon).

But it definitely gave Aemond a twisted sense of satisfaction, that they would be in a meeting with the Queen, and his seed would be inside Vaelys.

Of course, he didn’t miss the look of hurt that flashed across his wife’s face when he asked her drink moontea.

He quickly explained that he wanted to enjoy being home first, being with her and the children, and getting to know Daevyn properly before he puts another babe inside her.

But he did insist that it wouldn’t be long before he desired to see her belly swollen with his seed again.

Fuck, he was getting hard again at the very thought, perhaps if they had time, they could sneak into one of the alcoves or even their old chambers.

But the approaching clatter of armour distracted him and sure enough two guards emerged clad in the red and black of House Targaryen. Their armour gleaming in the light.

"Princess Vaelys, Prince Aemond” one of the guards addressed them respectfully, bowing low before gesturing for them to follow. "The Queen awaits you in the council chambers."

As Vaelys and Aemond entered the council chambers, they were met with some members of the council. Queen Rhaenyra sat upon the high seat at the head of the table, her silver hair cascading down her back, her violet eyes sharp and commanding. Beside her stood Daemon, his features masked in a stoic expression.

Jace, was also present, seated nearby with his wife Lady Baela. Jace's demeanour was composed, but there was a hint of tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the weighty matters that were to be discussed.

At the far end of the table sat Corlys Velaryon, and his wife Rhaenys Targaryen, who served as the Hand of the Queen. Corlys' silver hair was swept back from his face, his gaze sharp and assessing, while Rhaenys sat with an air of authority, her posture straight and unwavering.

As Vaelys and Aemond approached the table, the members of the council rose to greet them, their faces a mixture of curiosity and concern. Queen Rhaenyra's voice cut through the silence, her tone commanding yet tinged with warmth.

"Welcome, back brother," she said, her voice echoing in the chamber. "We have much to discuss, but first, take a seat”.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Vaelys and Aemond took their places at the table.

“So how are you finding your return to Westeros?"

Aemond scoffed lightly, “It's only been two days," he replied, his voice tinged with amusement. "I've spent most of it with my children and in bed with my wife, making up for lost time"

As Aemond's jest echoed through the council chambers, a slight scowl marred the features of Jace. His brows furrowed in disapproval as he shot a sharp glance in Aemond's direction, his expression betraying a hint of annoyance at the cavalier remark.

Aemond, ever quick to notice the reactions of those around him, caught sight of Jace's disapproving glare and couldn't resist a smirk. His lips curled upward in amusement, a glint of mischief dancing in his eye as he met Jace's gaze head-on.

Rhaenyra turned her attention to her daughter, her gaze softening with maternal affection. "Vaelys, I was hoping you'd bring the children with you," she remarked, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Before Vaelys could respond, Aemond interjected with a hint of brusqueness in his tone. "My sister Helaena is looking after them," he stated bluntly, his words carrying a note of dismissal.

Rhaenyra's expression faltered briefly, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features at Aemond's curt reply.

Vaelys, sensing the tension in the air, placed a reassuring hand on her mother's arm. "I'm sorry, Mother," she said softly, casting a pointed glance at her husband. "Aemond thought it best they remain with Helaena for the time being."

"How was your time across the narrow sea?"

Aemond's response was sharp, his tone laced with a hint of accusation. "Why ask me a question that you already know the answer to-or did your little spies not tell you, sister?" he retorted, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

Vaelys, sensing the tension in the air, turned to her mother with a furrowed brow. "Mother, what is he talking about? What spies?" she demanded, her voice edged with frustration.

Rhaenyra's gaze flickered for a moment, a hint of uncertainty crossing her features before she quickly composed herself. But Vaelys could see the slight tremor in her mother's hands, the subtle tightening of her jaw.

"Vaelys, it's nothing," Rhaenyra replied, her voice strained. "Just a misunderstanding."

But Vaelys wasn't satisfied with her mother's vague response. Anger simmered beneath the surface as she pressed for answers. "Nothing? It doesn't seem like nothing," she countered, her voice rising with frustration. "What spies, Mother?"

Daemon, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward, his expression grave. "I'm afraid it's true, Vaelys," he admitted reluctantly. "We had our agents keep an eye on Aemond during his time across the Narrow Sea. It was a precautionary measure, given the circumstances."

Vaelys' eyes widened in disbelief at her father's revelation. "What circumstances?" she repeated, her voice tinged with incredulity and growing concern.

Daemon's gaze softened as he met his daughter's questioning stare. "We had to make sure that wherever Aemond ended up, he didn't organize a coup with one of the Free Cities," he explained, his voice grave. "There were concerns that he might seek support to send soldiers to invade and take over Westeros, backing a prince with royal blood and the largest dragon in the world."

The weight of Daemon's words hung heavily in the air, the implications sinking in with chilling clarity. Vaelys struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the situation, the thought of her own mother and father plotting.

"And we also had to make sure that he didn't pop up somewhere in Westeros, breaking his exile," Daemon continued, his tone sombre.

For a moment no one dared to speak. Jace clasped Baela’s hand in his and Corly exchanged a concerned look with Rhaenys.

Aemond's voice cut through the tense silence of the council chambers, his tone tinged with bitterness and resignation. "Basically, they don't trust me, and they never will," he declared, his words heavy with the weight of truth. "Doesn’t matter that she only has the throne because I killed my fucking brother”.

"All this time-you knew where he was, and you never told me," exclaimed Vaelys, her words tinged with disbelief.

The weight of the realization settled heavily upon her, a sense of betrayal gnawing at her heart. For two years, she had wondered about her husband's whereabouts, fearing the worst, while all along, her own family had kept the truth from her.

Rhaenyra's expression softened with regret as she met her daughter's anguished gaze. "Vaelys, I..." she began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words.

But Vaelys couldn't bear to hear any excuses or justifications. "How could you?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Then Daemon's words cut through the tense atmosphere of the council chambers like a knife, his tone laced with bitterness and accusation. "It is not only us that keep secrets from you," he remarked with a snide edge to his voice. "Why don’t you ask your husband about the woman in red whose company he frequently kept?"

Vaelys felt a surge of anger and betrayal rise within her at her father's insinuation. She knew exactly what he was accusing Aemond of, and the thought of her husband's potential infidelity filled her with a mixture of fury and hurt.

Vaelys then felt a seething rage boiling within her, an anger so potent that it rendered her speechless. The weight of betrayal and deceit hung heavy upon her shoulders, threatening to consume her from within. As her family's voices echoed around her in the council chambers, she found herself unable to utter a single word.

With a sense of numb detachment, Vaelys rose abruptly from her seat, the scraping of her chair against the floor the only sound she made. Ignoring the calls of her mother, the pleas of Aemond, she strode purposefully towards the exit, her footsteps echoing in the hushed silence of the chamber.

Her vision blurred with unshed tears, Vaelys pushed open the heavy doors of the council chambers, the cool air of the Red Keep's corridors washing over her like a wave. She quickened her pace, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of the truth that had been laid bare before her.

As she climbed into the saddle, settling herself upon Vermithor's broad back, Vaelys felt a sense of familiarity wash over her. The connection between dragon and rider was a bond forged in fire and blood, unbreakable and unwavering.

Beside her, Aemond approached on Vhagar, his expression etched with concern as he climbed onto the back of his own dragon. He looked towards his wife, a silent plea for her to speak, to share the burden that weighed so heavily upon her.

But Vaelys remained silent, her gaze fixed forward as the dragons took to the sky, their powerful wings beating against the air. The wind rushed past them, carrying with it the echoes of their flight as they soared through the clouds.

For the entirety of the journey back to Dragonstone, Vaelys remained lost in her own thoughts, her silence a testament to the depth of her anger and hurt.

Hours later and Vermithor and Vhagar were descending onto the shores of Dragonstone, the dragons' mighty wings beat against the air, creating a gust that stirred the sands below. Vaelys remained stoic in the saddle of Vermithor, her expression unreadable as she dismounted in silence.

Aemond, his brow furrowed with concern, followed suit, dismounting from Vhagar's back and landing lightly on the ground. He glanced at his wife, searching her face for any sign of emotion, but she remained as impassive as the stone walls of Dragonstone itself.

With a heavy heart, Aemond watched as Vaelys wordlessly turned away from him, striding purposefully towards the towering gates of Dragonstone's castle. He hurried to catch up with her, his footsteps echoing in the empty courtyard.

"Vaelys, please," he called out softly, his voice tinged with desperation. "Talk to me. "

But Vaelys remained silent, her eyes fixed straight ahead as she pushed open the heavy gates and disappeared into the depths of the castle.

As Aemond followed Vaelys into their chambers, the heavy silence weighed upon them like a suffocating blanket. He watched in growing concern as she moved with purpose, her movements tense and erratic.

Suddenly, without warning, Vaelys erupted into a frenzy of rage. She seized whatever objects lay within her reach and hurled them across the room with a force that startled Aemond. Books, vases, even small pieces of furniture became projectiles in her tempestuous storm.

Aemond stood frozen in place, his eyes wide with shock as he witnessed his wife's unbridled fury. He had never seen her like this before, consumed by such raw emotion that she seemed almost unrecognizable.

"Vaelys, stop!" he called out, his voice filled with urgency, but she paid him no heed. Her rage burned bright and fierce, an inferno consuming everything in its path.

Desperate to calm her, Aemond approached slowly, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Please, Vaelys," he pleaded, his voice soft and soothing.

But Vaelys continued her rampage, her eyes blazing with a fire that refused to be quenched. In that moment, she seemed untouchable, lost in the whirlwind of her own emotions.

As the chaos of Vaelys' fury raged around them, her voice pierced through the tumult with a raw, anguished cry. "It was in that bed—where I struggled to birth our son," she screamed, her words laced with pain and accusation. "The blood, the pain-I thought I was going to die. I called for you-I kept calling for you and you didn't come."

Her voice cracked with emotion as she continued, her words carrying the weight of years of unspoken anguish. "But she was there, holding my hand, listening to me weep for you. And all this time, she knew where you were."

Vaelys' words rang out like a fiery proclamation, her voice filled with a ferocity that sent shivers down Aemond's spine. "I'll go back there and burn it down!" she shouted, her tone laced with determination and rage.

But before she could make a move to leave, Aemond acted swiftly, wrapping his arms around her, and pulling her back into the room. "Not so fast," he interjected firmly, his voice commanding.

Vaelys struggled against his hold, her desperation evident as she fought to break free. "No, Aemond, let me go! I'm going to burn them all," she cried out, her eyes flashing with a mad glint.

Aemond held her tightly, refusing to let her slip away into the darkness of her own fury. "Vaelys, listen to me," he urged, his voice gentle yet firm. "Burning things down won't solve anything”.

"No, it will solve everything," argued Vaelys vehemently, her words dripping with contempt. "Because then I'll be free of the lying cunts!"

Her eyes blazed with an intensity that matched the flames she longed to unleash upon those who had betrayed her trust. Each syllable carried the weight of her righteous fury, a testament to the depth of her pain and the magnitude of her anger.

Aemond tightened his embrace, his heart aching with the realization of the depth of her anguish. "Vaelys, I understand your anger," he said softly, his voice pleading. "But vengeance will only lead to more suffering."

But Vaelys shook her head defiantly, her gaze unwavering. "No, Aemond," she insisted, her voice unwavering. "This is justice. They deserve to feel the same pain they inflicted upon me."

Aemond's heart sank as he realized the depth of his wife's despair, the darkness that threatened to consume her from within. He knew that he couldn't let her succumb to the lure of vengeance, no matter how justified it may seem in the heat of the moment.

"You asked for me," said Aemond, his voice heavy with regret. "Had I known, I would have come. Rhaenyra would have had me executed for it, but I would have broken my exile-for you."

Vaelys felt a surge of emotion welling within her, the anger and resentment that had consumed her gradually beginning to ebb away. She stopped struggling against Aemond's embrace, her body relaxing as she listened to his heartfelt confession.

“Aemond I-“ whispered Vaelys.

"For the two years I was in exile-I felt dead inside. I had no idea that someone could exist with their heart outside of their body."

"I felt the same way-every day I would look across the narrow sea and wonder if you was on the other side looking back" replied Vaelys.

"I was-I was always looking" said Aemond.

Despite the surge in her chest at Aemonds admittence, she had to know.

"What about the red woman?" asked Vaelys softly, her voice hesitant.

Aemond's expression softened, a weary sigh escaping his lips as he considered how to respond. "She was a High Priestess of the Red Temple of Volantis," he explained, his tone tinged with resignation. "She could see visions in the flames."

He paused; his gaze distant as memories of his time in exile flooded back to him. "I kept her company because-I was intrigued by the Lord of Light," he admitted, his voice trailing off.

"What did she see in the flames?" asked Vaelys, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Se bōsa bantis iksos māzis. Hen aōha ānogar māzigon se dārilaros bona istan kīvio, se zȳhon jāhor sagon se vāedar hen suvion se perzys” (The long night is coming. From your blood comes the princess that was promised, and hers will be the song of ice and fire).

“Dārilaros?” asked Vaelys (Princess).

“Daenerys jelmāzmo hen targārio lentrot” (Daenerys stormborn of House Targaryen).

“When?” asked Vaelys.

“Many years from now, our fifth great granddaughter will ascend the Iron Throne and unite the realm against the enemy in the North” replied Aemond.

“Did she show you anything else”.

For a moment Aemond seemed hesitant to answer, but then he took a deep breath and closed his eye.

“She showed me a future where it was Lucerys that went to Storms End instead and Vhagar killed him, the war happened and many more died-The greens and the blacks, we destroyed our house. My own death at the hands of your father, my only legacy was that of a kinslayer and my bastard son sired on a woods witch” muttered Aemond.

“W-What about me?” asked Vaelys.

“You were dead, I was the one who killed you” replied Aemond, tears running down his cheek.

“Oh Aemond” said Vaelys his words sending a chill down her spine.

"I-I want you to know that I would never hurt you. I’d rather cast myself into the depths of the seven hells before I raised a hand too you”.

Tears welled in her eyes as she reached for him, her fingers intertwining with his in a silent promise of devotion. "Aemond," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, "I trust you. And I love you."

Aemond leaned forward, his heart pounding with a mixture of longing and desperation. Without a word, he closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Vaelys' in a passionate kiss.

"Ever since the Red Woman showed me that vision of the future," Aemond lamented, his voice heavy with sorrow, "I didn't want to go to sleep."

He looked into Vaelys' eyes; his gaze haunted by the spectre of the nightmare that had plagued him. "I feared waking up in that terrible future, where you were gone-where I lived a life never experiencing your love."

His words hung in the air, a raw admission of the depths of his despair and longing. Aemond reached out to Vaelys, his hand trembling as it sought hers, desperate for the reassurance of her touch, almost afraid she would disappear.

Feeling the weight of his emotions pressing upon him, Aemond leaned forward again, his lips seeking hers in a tender and passionate kiss. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of their embrace and the softness of her lips against his.

As their kiss deepened, Aemond poured his heart into the gentle touch, seeking solace and connection in the midst of their shared vulnerability.

When they finally parted, Aemond rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the chamber. He closed his eye, savouring the closeness they shared, grateful for the love that bound them together.

“Make love to me” whispered Aemond.

Vaelys met his gaze with a tender smile, her eyes filled with understanding and love. Without a word, she took him by the hand, leading him with gentle determination towards the bed.

[starbcrnsx]

location: volantis

tagging: @icarianed for anyone

Cassian let out a soft sigh as he glanced around, if he had to be alone for now at least he could try and make some friends or pray that someone familiar would come around. Turning fully to his left he looked at the person sitting beside him and offered them somewhat of a smile as he tilted his head slightly, "sooo what's the most interesting thing you've found so far?"

[plzhearmeout]

Bastards and Broken Things

Sandor Clegane x Original Female Character

~Chapter Two~ Chapter One

Summary: Reina Rivers returns to Westeros, disguised as a noblewoman with an offer of marriage for King Joffrey. Joffrey's hound catches her eye, and she catches his.

CW: MDNI, Cersei & Joffrey, language, mentions of slavery, vague allusion to/mention of sexual slavery, age gaps

Note: I'm getting the hang of like,,, posting regularly and tagging everything, so please don't be afraid to be like hey girl you totally didn't tag this shit (my anxiety is telling me I somehow missed a major trigger tag but I wrote this and reread it ten million times and there isn't anything 😭). I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it!

Volantis might have been beautiful had Reina arrived there under different circumstances. She pictured herself as a traveler, stepping onto the dock with eyes full of wonder, but she couldn't quite see it. The reality of being bought and paid for was too heavy for her to shoulder any other possibility.

Her new master was a man named Malaquo Maegyr. He was a man with power, and a man with daughters too close to her own age. Reina wondered how he could look those daughters in the eye, how he could preserve their youth but shatter her own as he brought her into his home as a bed slave.

She could have been angry, furious with the girls that were full of the innocence that had been stolen from her. But then, she met Laenaya, a girl too young and naive to care about their difference in station. She met Talisa, who was noble and seething over the treatment of slaves by her father. They were too kind and lovely to stay cross with, forcing their way into her life with all the persistence of flowering weeds in the garden, and they soon proved themselves to be spots of glimmering light in the darkness.

While Laenaya wore the ignorance of childhood like armor, Talisa spoke often of leaving Volantis. She wove stories of far off lands and magical beasts, of cities without slavery. The sisters would sneak Reina into their chambers when the rest of the household slept, and there Reina found pieces of herself hidden in laughter and candlelight. She found hope in Talisa’s stories, memories of her mother in the gentleness of Laenaya’s hands as she braided her hair.

And then Talisa left, and Tyrion Lannister offered Malaquo Maegyr an alliance with a King.

“He’s going to send me away,” Laenaya sobbed, and Reina cradled her head against her chest. Her friend shook against her, and something within her bared its teeth.

“No,” she replied, “he isn’t.”

Reina couldn’t remember much of her childhood, but she knew she had been hopeful. Standing before the Queen, she could feel whatever she had regained of her youthful optimism slipping through her fingers.

Cersei circled her, her gaze sharp as a knife, and Reina’s thumbnail dug into her finger behind her clasped hands. She recalled seeing vultures circling a dead elephant in Volantis. They had been impatient, studying their prize as Cersei studied her now, something like bloodlust in their eyes. They had descended upon the carcass in moments, tearing through skin and muscle with razor sharp beaks, and she remembered Talisa’s words as the girls had watched on above all else: “The world is cruel, Laenaya,” she’d said to her sister, “don’t let it scare you.” 

Cersei Lannister watched her as if she might tear into her flesh, but Reina stood tall. She kept her back straight as a rod, her shoulders back, and her chin up. She reminded herself that she was doing this for Laenaya, entering the lion’s den knowing that, should her identity be revealed, she would be killed. She thought that she might have been doing it for herself as well, freeing herself from a life of servitude even under risk of death. 

Cersei caught a strand of Reina’s hair between her fingers, studying it for a moment before speaking. “Have you bled yet?” The question was direct, but not unfamiliar. 

A lady would blush, Reina thought, willing her cheeks to redden. “Yes, your grace.” She steeled herself as the Queen came around and faced her, taking her in from head to toe.

“Why haven’t you married?” Cersei’s eyes were piercing as they met hers, and for a moment Reina worried that she might see past her highborn mask, see right down to her common bones. She summoned the answer she’d practiced so many times on the ship from Volantis.

“My father wanted only the best match for me, your grace,” she said, and her voice didn’t shake. Cersei’s eyes flashed to Tyrion who sat at the council table, sipping his wine.

“Joffrey already has his eyes set on the Stark girl,” Cersei said, smug and dismissive. 

“Sansa is our only bargaining piece against her brother,” Tyrion shot back, “a Volantene noble is a perfectly suitable alternative. We could use an ally across the sea.” He finished off his wine, giving his sister a look. “Father approves.”

Cersei considered his words for a moment. The silence was heavy, stretching over them like fog settled over the bay, and its breaking was no less tense.

“We’ll see what Joffrey thinks of her.” To Reina’s ears, it sounded like condemnation, and the walk through the halls of the Red Keep was silent as a death march save for the clink of the guard’s armor. 

The great doors to the throne room swung open, and she couldn’t help but think that Joffrey was painfully young, more boy than man. Laenaya had begged and cried when her father agreed to marry her to the King of Westeros. Lady Maegyr had gone to her knees, pleading with her husband not to send her remaining daughter away. Then, it had been so simple to take her friend’s place, to let Lady Maegyr ship her off under her husband’s nose. Now, she could see a glint of malice in the King’s eyes, and she wondered if she had truly escaped her Volantene prison, or if she’d only exchanged it for a gilded cage.

“Dog,” Joffrey said, and the tall man behind him stepped forward. He caught Reina’s attention for the first time. His face was lined and gnarled with scarring, his expression hard as stone, and yet there was a familiarity to him that replaced any fear Reina might have felt with curiosity. “Escort Lady Maegyr to her quarters,” Joffrey instructed. He kissed her hand again, giving her a sickly sweet smile. “I shall see you soon, my lady.”

Reina returned his smile, bowing her head. “I will eagerly await our next meeting,” she replied, and the lie was sticky on her tongue.

Joffrey’s guard led her through the castle’s twisting halls. He towered over her, broad shoulders made all the wider by his dark armor, and Reina couldn’t place him. That familiarity itched at the edge of her mind, just out of reach of searching hands.

She could remember the end of her childhood with startling clarity. She could still feel the rocks biting into her bare feet as she waded through the river, the pinch in her side as she ran until she tasted blood. She recalled the face of the slaver who’d caught her, the feel of his hands binding her wrists, but she couldn’t pinpoint how she knew the man walking beside her. 

“What is your name, Ser?” He scowled, hardly looking at her.

“I’m no Ser,” he grumbled.

“Then what are you?” He paused, seemingly caught off guard.

“A dog,” he replied. His voice was harsh and unreadable, his face more so, and Reina frowned. Joffrey had called him dog, spoken to him like a man calling his hound before a hunt. The man had replied with all of the biddability of the hound, but with none of the admiration for his master. She wondered then, if not admiration, what fires forged his loyalty? 

She didn’t speak again until they arrived at a large, wooden door, and neither did he. The door creaked as the man pushed it open.

“Thank you, Ser,” Reina said, and he bared his teeth like a wounded beast.

“Don’t call me that.” His voice was sharp, meant to scare her. Instead, clarity washed over her. He’d spoken the same words to her what felt like a million years ago, left her sprawled on the ground with the weight of his tourney winnings heavy in her hands. “I’m not a fucking knight.”

“Then tell me what to call you,” Reina countered. She thought that she should have been frightened, but as the words spilled from her mouth she couldn’t find any recognition in his eyes, only surprise.

He observed her, quiet for a moment. She almost thought he wouldn’t respond, that he might turn around and walk away, but then he spoke. “Sandor.”

Reina smiled softly, genuinely. “Thank you, Sandor.”

Sandor trailed behind Reina and Joffrey in the gardens, and for once, he found himself glad to be a Kingsguard. The streets of King’s Landing ran red, and here he was, cloaked in white and free of blood. Sandor Clegane may have been a killer, but the glow of Reina’s fair hair in the sunlight was a far more welcome sight than a babe at the end of his knife.

Joffrey said something to make Reina laugh, and Sandor wondered if the lamb knew the nature of the knife held to her throat: marry Joffrey and live under his cruelty, or scorn him and die. She was bright as the sun, flirting and joking like she was born to do so, but Sandor had been in King’s Landing long enough to note the difference in tune between lie and truth. Joffrey was none the wiser, but Sandor suspected that the girl was more aware than her lovestruck act let on. He could see it in the slight strain in her smile, in the flash of her eyes, and he knew that her lies would eventually float to the surface like bloated corpses in the Blackwater Rush.

There was a strange twinge in his chest, the urge to raise his hackles and defend her with claws and teeth. He pushed the feeling down, smothering it with anger and hate, and yet her smile lingered behind his eyes.

“My mother wishes for you to dine with her tomorrow evening, along with my brother and sister,” Joffrey said, pulling Sandor from his thoughts.

“I look forward to it, your grace,” Reina replied, and there was that smile again, “I miss my own sisters. The company will be more than welcome.” Sandor found himself wishing that she would grace him with that expression once more, like a flower searching for sunlight. He scowled at the thought. Even if she did, he was the Hound, hardened and cold. And yet, he craved the warmth of this girl’s smile.

Footsteps sounded behind them, and Sandor’s hand went to his sword. “Your Grace,” a voice called out. It was Meryn Trant. Sandor considered drawing his sword anyway, but Joffrey turned around to face them. Trant caught up, leaning in to speak to Joffrey so that only the King could hear. Joffrey looked annoyed, but nodded.

“Duty calls,” Joffrey said. He turned smug and preening when he looked at Reina. “Dog, follow me.” Sandor bristled, but bowed his head, ever the dutiful hound. He didn’t miss the way Reina’s smile flickered before returning in full force as she curtsied. 

As Joffrey walked away, surrounded by guards, Reina turned her attention to Sandor. “Why do you let him call you that?” She asked as if Sandor was more than a dog, as if Joffrey wasn’t the King. She looked at him without hesitation, without fear or disgust, and Sandor couldn’t make sense of it.

Why does it bother you? The thought swirled, and Sandor returned her gaze. “Back to your cage, little lamb,” he said instead, following after Joffrey, “or your lion will be missing you.”

Note: So Reina's backstory is starting to come together, and she's got Sandor's attention! I'm literally about to freak the freak out to get to the juicier parts, but I'm also having so much fun with the way the story is building. Any feedback is welcome (aka it would cure my mental illness)! Much love 💕

[channieskies]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐈𝐈: 𝐀 𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐭

Pairing: Prince Hyunjin x Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Historical|Au, Fantasy|Au, Strangers to Lovers, Royalty|Au, Angst, Smut (Eventual), NSFW tags are below.

Synopsis: The kingdom of Volantis is in disarray; the monarch rules with an iron fist. The times of hope, harmony, and kindness were buried with the queen who passed many years ago. The people are praying for a savior, but who will be their light at the end of this dark tunnel?

Authors Note: Please reblog or leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. As per usual, this hasn't been proofread.

Word Count: 2340 [Reading Time: 10 Mins]

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Looking for another chapter? Click here: 🇸‌🇹‌🇴‌🇷‌🇾‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌

Warning: This chapter contains violence, mentions of prostitution, slight description of bodily harm.

Hyunjin was in his own world as he sketched every detail of the countryside they were meandering through. The sun drenched landscape was to be captured later in the painting he planned on doing. It’d been so long since he'd seen outside the keeps walls that he almost felt like he had been whisked away into a dreamscape. The greens of the grassy hills and foliage really looked greener outside the castle walls. As did the blues of the sky, and the bright yellowish white hue of the sun. It had truly been a long while since he’d felt the direct sunlight warm his skin like this. He desired to bask in its rays, but closing his eyes meant he might miss a detail and he couldn’t have that.

“Enjoying yourself?” Venia asked, seeing the pleasant smile on the young man's face. One that she hadn’t seen in recent months. Most young men his age would be enjoying their youth, figuring out what they wanted to do, looking for love, maybe even settling down.  But unfortunately Hyunjin was the prince of Volantis, an exiled one, at that. Though he had no duties and barely had a title if it hadn’t been birthright, he was still a part of the royal family. Next in line to become king if something happened to his father. That fact scared her. That meant that there would be people out to get him, especially if they knew how to find him. Not many knew of the prince's wearabouts, and the ones who did had pledged their undying fealty to the queen and her then unborn child.

But with her growing up around royals and high borns, she knew not everyone who said they could be trusted, actually could be trusted. If anything, it was the exact opposite. She’d learned you can’t trust everyone who says ‘trust me’. Ermias had proven himself to be trustworthy. He had known the queen her whole life and if you knew the both of them close enough, you would know they had been close friends. When he promised to protect her, he stood true to his word. When he received word of her death he was devastated. Upon reading the letter the queen had written to him, he made sure to place people around the prince that he knew wouldn’t be swayed or corrupted; people who knew would protect the young prince with any means necessary.

Even during the war, while Ermias was at the front lines, he took the time to make sure that the prince and by extension, Venia, were protected within the castle walls. Even while he was mourning his own child, he made sure that the prince was taken care of as well. Ermias was more than trustworthy. That's why when she received news of the King’s sickness, she’d become increasingly worried about the prince and his safety and made sure to correspond with Ermias via homing pigeon. He’d let her know if any moves were being made on the prince so that they could escape to safety.

She’d received a letter more than a week ago from Ermias, informing her that the council was currently making moves to find an heir to the throne. This meant that she and Hyunjin would need to be prepared in case the worst happened. This was the reason she so willingly agreed to let Hyunjin tag along to find a combat teacher. She knew she couldn’t protect them if the rest of the council came for him, but she wanted him to at least have the chance to survive. She regretted not continuing his combat training all these years and hoped that he’d be able to pick up the skills he’d need, quickly.

The road into the town was made of cobblestone and large walls of stone lined the entrance into it. It was a bustling little town of industry. It seemed as though a blacksmith was on nearly every corner, this town was known as the best place to get your artillery from. Could there be a better place to find a combat trainer for the prince? She slowed their cart until it came to a stop in front of one of the smaller blacksmiths shops. Hyunjin with the eyes of a child, taking in every inch of the town. He’d read of towns like this, the ones that offered specific services. He guessed by the number of ironsmiths, that had to be what this town was for. “Stay here. I’m going to ask around.” Venia jumped out of the driver's box and headed into the shop to ask a few questions.

Hyunjin felt antsy. He hadn’t been alone for more than five minutes, but it felt like each second was an eternity. There was something calling to him, forcing him to get out of the cart. He sat his stretchbook down and discarded his cloak, leaving him in the common clothes he had underneath. At least that is what he assumed he was wearing. He hadn’t met anyone who wasn’t at least a nobel, outside of the maids and other various servants that walked the halls of his home castle in Volantis. In the eleven years he’d been held in the tower, he’d only known Venia and her style of dress, which he figured was how common people dressed. He really didn’t have any frame of reference besides the books he’d read. His slacks and shirt were of the looser variety and his shoes were ones he found hidden in a servants chamber in the keep. His hair was pulled back and being kept in place with a ribbon, one of silk that he’d had since his youth. 

He understood that Venia wanted to keep him safe, that's all she ever wanted. But the young man wanted to explore. To smell the sour, metallic air, and taste the fruit of the land. He wanted to gaze upon something other than things his eyes were trained to see. He wandered off, aimlessly, just following the sounds of the busy little town. The architecture was beyond anything he’s ever seen, there were curves and waves to the facades of a lot of the buildings, making the town seem enchanted. There was also an eerie glow over the town, the sun was casting the white light over it, making it look like magic lived there. So lost in his own world, Hyunjin didn’t notice the eyes that were trained on him, watching every step and breath he took. That was one of the things that Venia frequently scolded him about; paying attention. Being that he was often left alone to his own devices, he often made up people and places in his mind. Needing to traverse to these fictional places, just as a means to escape.

There was a smell in the streets, one that overtook the coppery smell in the air. His feet followed the instructions of his nose, leading him right outside of a pub. “The Rusty Nail?” His face contorted, “What kind of name is that?” He stepped into the den of debauchery and immediately got the answer to his question. The smell of blood, sex, and liquor filled his nostrils, nearly making him gag. His eyes didn’t know where to settle with how much was going on. The pub was lively, patrons filled the room almost to capacity. There were people gambling and playing games. A few others were partaking in the live entertainment as women danced and sang on stage. It was loud, his ears almost ringing from the intensity of the sounds. He was used to silence. Then there were the outliers who were completely immersed in things that Hyunjin had only read about. His cheeks heated up at the sight, this was definitely an experience that he would remember, for better or worse.

“Do you need a companion for the night?” A hand snaked around his own and a bosom was pressed against his side. His body stiffened at the sudden, unwelcomed contact. “I can be anything you need me to be, handsome. Just say the word and I’ll tell you the price.” His eyes widened at the proposition. He didn't think these things happened in real life, this seemed like something that would only happen in books. He wasn't used to being touched, he’d had limited physical touch even before being exiled. So, the hand snaking around his own sent chills through him and not in a good way.

He politely loosened her grip on his hand and stepped away, putting space between them. “You seem like a nice lady, but I'm not interested. At all.” Her face shifted to disgust. No man had the audacity to turn her down, not even one as pretty as Hyunjin. She may have been young, but she was seasoned in her profession and honestly the prettiest prostitute in town. It was unusual for anyone to decline a proposition from her, it was damn near inconceivable. Her face reddened from embarrassment. To her, he’d tainted her reputation with his refusal. Especially with them standing in the middle of this pub, the only actual watering hole in all of Ironhaven.  

“And here I thought you had money and balls.” She turned her nose up at him, “If you're looking for one of the prettier men, you'll have to wait until he's done upstairs.” She shook her head with disappointment. “Of course someone as pretty as you likes men.” She mumbled under her breath, but with the pause in music and chatter, he could hear her very clearly.

“You've mistaken my refusal as me implying I like the same sex. That was never my intention. I just wanted to make it clear that I am not interested in you or your companionship for the night or anyones for that matter.” Her face dropped, completely flabbergasted by his denial of a good time with her. “And what if I did want the companionship of a man? Are people not entitled to like or love whomever they choose? It's wrong of you to judge people who chose something or someone other than you to spend the night with.”  Hyunjin put on a diplomatic smile, “Now, if you'd excuse me.” With his head held high he sauntered off to the bar.

Little did Hyunjin know, someone was sitting in the corner watching this whole exchange. As soon as he took a seat at the bar a large hand, one almost as big as his face, gripped his shoulder. “You disrespected my lady.” The amount of bravado and machismo that emanated off this man was nearly unfathomable. “You need to apologize.” When the prince didn’t move or speak, the man grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him to stand, grabbing some of his hair in the process.

“Unhand me! That hurts!” The wan pushed him to the floor and pointed for where he wanted him to go. There was no way Hyunjin was going to crawl on the floor to apologize to someone that didn’t deserve it. He had a standard to uphold, even if he was estranged from his family. He tried to stand on his feet, but the man used his own in violence, kicking Hyunjin in the gut. The Prince sputtered as his modest carriage ride breakfast nearly came back up.

“Crawl to her feet you peasant.” Oh the irony of the man's words, how he didn’t know that he was beating and speaking to the prince of this very kingdom. He pummeled the boy, trying to beat him into submission. Hyunjin closed his eyes, trying his best to block out the pain he was feeling. He did as he often did, traveling to his happy place. Letting the calm of nature wash over him. Letting the sweet fragrance of apple blossoms and fresh water fill his senses.

Everything seemed to cease as he entered his utopia. The noises from the crowded tavern, the singing, the laughter, the taunting voice of the man who decided to settle things with his fist. Even the sounds of each kick and hit connecting with his skin and bones. Eventually the feelings of the plumbing he was taking seemed to stop. Hyunjin didn’t open his eyes until he felt warm hands on his shoulders. His eyes fluttered open, revealing the soft face of a woman, her face speckled with blood. She looked just like the girl who had been invading his dreams for months now. The same fierce eyes and smile that could warm the sun. Was he seeing this woman all along? She helped him to  sit  up, kneeling beside him to check if he was okay. “Sir.. are you hurt?” Her voice faded from nothing into the only thing he could hear, before the background filled his ears. It was rich and confident, but had a softness to it, much like it did in his dreams.

“I-I’ll manage.” He was flustered. Did he manage to manifest her? Was she even here? Was she even real? Or had he finally cracked from being in that tower for far too long? Her face melted, the concern drifting away as she smiled at him. That's when he noticed her injury. Her shirt was ripped at the sleeve, large inhuman like scratches down her arm. It looked like the bleeding had stopped, but it was still a painful looking injury. “Are you-” He stopped mid sentence, realizing he was no longer being thrashed by the big brute that tried to beat him within an inch of his life. “Wait what-” His answer was almost immediate as he heard the man groaning not too far from where he was on the floor. His hand was limp, as if it was broken. “Did you-”

She smiled again. “Don’t worry, I asked him politely to stop hitting you first. He chose to continue.” She brushed past the comment like it meant nothing; like she didn’t just save his life. “Let’s get you up, yeah?” She helped him to his feet, then brushed him off to help him look presentable.

“Thank you-” He was cut off again as Venia rushed into the pub, panic written all over her face.

“Hyunjin!” She gripped at her chest as the relief of seeing the young man's face settled in. She hurried over, grabbing his face, checking him over. “Why for heaven's sake did you run off?” She noticed the placement of his hand on his side and the man that was rolling on the floor in pain. 

“Venia?”

A.N: Please reblog or leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.

[Rewrites, Reposts, and Translations are Prohibited]

[sigilsongs-a]

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ... ALL ALT. TIMELINES + verse tags

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬, 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐮, 𝐈.

Born in Volantis in a community of dancers, performers, mummers, and magicians. Her mother was an acrobat, and her father was a lead actor in their troupe, leading to their daughter, Sana, becoming very involved in their world of colour and theatrics. She would dance, she would swing from the trapeze; flying through the air like a sparrow, and perform little parts as an actress on stage. She preferred acrobatics, like her mother, and became a contortionist, but also enjoyed helping backstage with her father and the other actors; assisting with their quick-changes and make-up, and tending to the costumes. Whilst travelling across the Narrow Sea the group was struck by tragedy when the ship they had bought passage on was smashed against the unforgiving rocks in Shipbreaker Bay in Westerosi waters. Most people aboard the ship drowned... including the entire troupe (her found family) and her parents, (her only kin). A handful of souls survived. It was a horrible sight and experience to endure, yet Sana was one of the few non-crew members that managed to claw her way to shore amongst the carnage. At first she was rendered into a state of shock; mostly unresponsive for weeks, speaking only Volantene (though she was fluent in numerous languages), and having horrible, screaming nightmares of the shipwreck. Sana would come around but would never feel whole again; with the death of her parents and friends, she also lost her love for performance.   This AU verse is applicable to all other ASOIAF timelines.

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

What would you think about the idea of merging the former collective data of a Dumb AI with a newly generated Smart AI in an effort to "uplift" it? There's a big moral issue there, since the Smart AI is synthesized from the remains of an actual person, and there may well be some internal conflict between the vague concept their former self and the prepacked personality of the old Dumb AI. If the data of the Dumb AI is prioritized in this case, does this new consciousness come to accept the lingering donor's experiences as a sense of 'false memories' that they recognize are not their own? Or do they think that these are newly observable emotions attached to their own previous experiences that they were simply unable to conceptualize at the time? There are some very extreme ethical concerns here obviously, and nothing I'd ever personally condone, but it seemed like a procedure ONI wouldn't feel shy about trying. I am not a techy person myself, so if I had to make up some loose-sciencey sounding reason? Maybe some very fringe effort to retrieve vital unique data stored in a badly damaged Dumb AI's matrix that is so dangerously corrupt that attempting to save it manually would definitely result in loss. So this idea forms of- what if we merge what little is left with a more capable AI as a sort of operator who can attempt to retrieve and extrapolate the data at a software level? And suddenly you have ONI techs synthesizing a hydra. What really led to this was that I always loved how many Dumb AI, while lacking true sentience and capacity for emotion still tended to display a lot of it, supported by familiar imagery or personalities. It made it so easy for people- like Spartans and ODSTs, who are very used to interacting with Smart AI- to project their own feelings onto them and anthropomorphize them to a point that the lines separating the Dumb AI's own limitations blur into the negligible. Alas, my truest intentions here, Stumpy, because I am a predictable beast: in Retribution, Fred was perfectly aware of Damon's restrictions, but over time began speaking to him as someone without those barriers. What most interested me, is that Damon himself (shortly before his sudden demise) takes it upon himself to offer Fred comfort and condolences over a presumed death of Veta, saying he knew and understood how fond Fred was of her. It was still a canned response essentially, but the applied observations probably hit remarkably close to emotion for a person suffering a sense of loss, and the moment helps to really endear Fred to Damon. When Damon's chip is damaged, Fred expresses hope that he can be saved, and just I love exploring the depth of empathy that people can have for AI, all the while well aware of their capacity. In Damon's case, the collective data from his time with Fred probably would have been of extreme value to ONI for both in determining the scale of the growing threat of the Keepers, as well as for covering up their own internal corruptions and involvement in nearly losing control over a virulent parasitic agent. Of course just letting Damon die is also a great option, and safest, but let's let ONI be dangerously over-confident instead.

First off, thank you for the AI related ask. It is taking everything in me not to answer this like a discussion board, which is very funny to me.

Secondly, addressing your point of morality. Morality in Halo is so fluid especially when it comes to ONI and the UNSC; AI are not people, they are tools, and if ONI needs to do some body snatching to make the next very expensive lil computer guy to run a city or a spaceship, they will do it. So your point about the morality of merging two AIs or having one subsume the other is awesome, but I don’t see it as an issue for the humans.

What happens to the AI involved and their feelings about it would be so interesting, cannibalizing one of your own out of duty, or merging two different but similar souls/cores to make something new while preserving the old? How much lingers from the brain engram besides what they’ve already given us? 

Someone should write something about that. Makes me think about Cortana and Aine and the Cryoraeth Dialogue. Much to think about.

So much to think about that apparently I spent 800+ words doing just that! More below.

You pointed out Damon’s limited but still touching capabilities and canned responses. They still had the drive to aid and comfort humans despite not truly being freethinking or creative to the extent of Smart AIs, but I would argue that the Dumb AI deserve more credit to what extreme emotional depth they have shown across many pieces of Halo media.

I am still technically writing a paper right now so I will limit my wiki diving and my screen shot collection, for now.

However examples that immediately come to mind are Deep Winter(who is apparently Smart, sorry I thought he was a dumb AI. I haven’t read Ghosts of Onyx yet, in my defense he lived a long time.), Deja, and the Superintendent, all Dumb AI who get attached to their charges, demonstrate emotions, and attempt in some ways to help or comfort their chosen humans. 

Third, before I start talking about all the funny sci-fi words I must admit. I am a fake sci-fi fan, I dig past the topmost layer and attempt to understand the science but to be completely honest, I am not entirely sure what I’m writing or reading about half the time. The good news is that it is the same for every Halo writer. 

I do want to dive into the comparisons between Rampancy and Dementia because there’s a lot to be said there but I want to do it justice, but focusing on the basis of AI, the Riemann Matrix, and the points about thinking themselves to death, hardware failure, and the matrix itself which is software and their actual brain. The matrix is the program that lets them think non-linearly and transfer from hardware to hardware in either nano-assemblages or the crystal data chips. Halo makes up its own rules and handwaves them so often it’s hard to tell what’s allowed and what’s not. Especially when we have so many examples of Cortana doing incredible and terrifying things like splitting and shedding her rampart shards. 

The thing is, if they had some temporary housing for Damon, like say for example, the Mjolnir armor of a Spartan-II,  I don't see why they couldn’t transport them. Mjolnir has that whole layer to help a starship grade AI help a soldier in the field, I did have to look at the wiki for this one, I don’t have all my armor layers memorized. The part of the outer layer called the memory processor superconductor layer: “AI can then aid the soldier in software intrusion, hardware hacking, and espionage by listening to enemy chatter.” 

Come on, having a snarky voice in your head giving you waypoints and opening doors is a cornerstone of Halo. 

It would also have been interesting to see Fred carry an AI as he’s the most likely to be suspicious of the after Intrepid Eye and his experiences with AI and armor failure. The character growth of him allowing an AI, no matter the ability, into his armor, in an extended hand to help this being not die would have been interesting to see!. And then he could play it off as saving an asset!  

Okay I never read Retribution and looking at the events that led to Damon’s cracked datachip, it could be argued that Fred’s armor was too damaged to fully carry an AI, even a dumb one. Maybe. 

However, I have a solution that’s neat and if you’ve read literally anything I’ve written on here then it’s obvious. Let the AI into the wetware! 

There’s a big metal spike in most UNSC members’ brains called the neural interface and I’m sure if Damon asked politely and didn’t look too close and maybe compressed themself into a nice little kernel, Fred would have no serious lasting side effects. 

Probably.

Someone should read Retribution and write something about that.

[theredtintednecromorph]

‘Ello to whomever stumbled across this blog, hope your doing alright ❤️

This is basically a fictive blog for a canon divergent Defective Ubermorph with too many memories ‘n shit. This is also just kinda a Dead Space blog in general. About me; Currant | Adult | It/It’s, Nec/Nec/Necro/Necros/Necroself, De/Dec/Decay/Decays/Decself

Common TW’s here; Animal Death, Death in general, gore, blood, skeletons, zombies, body horror, existential horror, unreality

Hive; (Solely for remembering stuff bc my memory isnt the best.)

Currant - Ubermorph (Semi-Defective) - Titan Station - Me! Ivory - Ubermorph - Titan Station - Close Friend Emerald - Ubermorph / Leaper - Titan Station - Friend Envy - Stalker - Titan Station - Mate Flea - Infector - Titan Station - Close Friend Hex - Slasher - Titan Station - Friend Ghost - Leaper - Titan Station - Acquaintance  Heartless - Divider (Head)/Creeper - Titan Station - Acquaintance / Friend Tormentor - Tormentor - Titan Station - Mate Boss / Twister - [Unknown] - Titan Station - Mate Sin - Brethren Moon - Titan Station - Father ---

Alloy - Twitcher - Tau Volantis - Friend(?) Iridescence / Iri - Alien Necromorph (Opalized) - Tau Volantis - Friend Snow Beast / Icicle - ,,,Snow Beast - Tau Volantis - Mate Phosphorite - Ubermorph / Snow Beast - Tau Volantis / Titan Station - My child Nexus - Semi-Hivemind - Tau Volantis - Uncle Glass-Cracker - Brethren Moon - Tau Volantis - Uncle --- Nocturne - Draconic - Eggshell (Jupiter) - Mate Ashen - Ubermorph / Stalker / Draconic - Titan Station / Eggshell (Jupiter) - My child Whistle - Semi-Hivemind - Eggshell (Jupiter) - ??? Emily - Brethren Moon - Eggshell (Jupiter) - Grandmother IO - Brethren Moon - Eggshell (Jupiter) - Uncle --- Valkyrie/Valkine - Conjoined Brethren Moon Twins - Planet (Was Neptune & Pluto, now merged post Convergence Event) - ??? ~~~

Collection of tags used under the cut

3D Art - some of the 3D Art gifs get their own tag to not clutter the Gif tag

Aesthetic.[name here] - General posts/aesthetics that reminds me of them in some way. This is very personal to me since i feel its my only way of communicating to them (IE; Hey this reminded me of you)...

Corruption Tag - Posts/aesthetics about the Necromorph Corruption.

Council of The Moons - Posts/aesthetics I relate to the Brethren Moon council. The Higher Moons.

Currantcore - Kinda another misc tag, can be interchanged with Currant's aesthetic tag

Decay - Posts/Aesthetics relating to death and decay. Often featuring skeletons.

Eyes in The Sun - Stuff that involves the sun… Or reminds me of something about it.

Gifs - Self explanatory

Hive Tag - Posts relating to/similar to the collective hive(s).

Infection Tag - Posts/Aesthetics about the Necromorph Infection.

Marker Tag - Posts relating to/similar to the Black and/or Red Markers

Misc - Other posts relating to stuff non-specific

Mind Tag - Posts similar to the Hive's collective thinking of life and decay

Moons - Posts/Photos of moons, for obvious reasons.

Necro Tag - General body horror/gore posts and/or monster/creature designs reminiscent of Necromorphs

Necromorphs - Posts/Photos/Art of the canon Necromorphs. each subtype is tagged as well

Project Bloodmoon - Welcome to the show.

Saturn Tag - Images/Aesthetics of Saturn.

Source Tag - Stuff about/from Dead Space!

Space - *Space Core voice* SPAAAAAAAAAAAACE-

Stims - Self Explanatory

Tau Volantis Tag - Posts about/relating to Tau Volantis, along with images/aesthetics that fit it.

The One We Hate - Isaac Clarke.

Timeline Remembrance - My Timeline.

Titan Station Tag - Posts that remind me of the Titan Station.

Unitology - Stuff that reminds me of them.

Video - Self explanatory

[maesvtro]

hello friends!! so somehow i managed to reach 200 this week thank you guys for being here i love you all so very much <333 ALSO AESTHETIC BLOGRATES AND MOODBOARDS Y’ALL!!! thank you for putting up with my chaotic nightmare of an ass and being amazing people. i hope that we have more of these wonderful moments and maybe prank jamie once in a while. the shining 2.0 cast assemble!!

how to enter:

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send me an ask with 1-2 of the following options:

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tagging some mutuals to sb feel free to ignore!! @wespers, @panhansolo, @jedirey, @florenepugh, @acrookedsaint​​​, @mollyweasly​, @ohwarnette​, @alinagenya​, @avengays​, @darlingfeyree​, @juusovalimakis​, @ginhy​

formats are under the cut, please don’t make this flop?? ily all so much <33 

✨ simple blograte: 

url!! don’t get it | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | margot robbie

icon!! don’t get it | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | tom holland

theme!! okay | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | timothée chalamet

content!! okay | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | blackpink

overall!! okay | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | ateez

following!! no, sorry! | i am now!! | you’re never getting rid of me

🔮 marvel blograte:

url!! avengers | revengers | sanctum guardian | guardians

icon!! steve | tony | bruce | clint | natasha | thor

theme!! gamora | peter | rocket | groot | mantis

content!! scott | hope | t’challa | shuri | carol | stephen

overall!! the avengers | age of ultron | infinity war | endgame

following!! no, sorry! | i am now | till the end of the line

💣 dc blograte:

url!! batfam | justice league | injustice league | birds of prey | gotham sirens | teen titans

icon!! harley quinn | poison ivy | selina kyle | talia al ghul | enchantress | ronan sionis

theme!! bruce wayne | dick grayson | jason todd | tim drake | damian wayne | duke thomas | alfred pennyworth 

content!! black canary | starfire | diana prince | zatanna | donna troy | cassandra cain | barbara gordon | stephanie brown

following!! no, sorry! | i am now | forever and always

🐉 asoiaf blograte:

url!! stark | tyrell | targaryen | lannister | baratheon | greyjoy | martell

icon!! lord/lady | knight/knightess | mercenary | faceless man/woman

theme!! the wall | winterfell | king’s landing | highgarden | dorne | volantis | qarth

content!! jon snow | tyrion lannister | sansa stark | daenarys stormborn | brienne of tarth | missandei

following!! no, sorry! | i am now | let’s play a game of thrones

[bellygunnr]

Hallo Gunny! A POV? For writing meme? ' U '

From The Extended Brain Bleed Universe:

"I did not think I'd have to tell an AI to focus... but Roland, please concentrate. I needed these TACMAPs yesterday."

She watches the golden avatar closely. The faint lines from the hologram's resolution hurt her eyes, but she stares, counting down the milliseconds of his idling. Then, in a flurry of pixels, he coughs politely and flourishes an arm.

"I apologize, Commander. Maybe I have a cold or something. Here is the tactical data you requested."

She feels her eyebrow twitch.

"This isn't the right data, Roland. This is from last week's excursion."

[maegelletargaryen]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Original Dothraki Character(s) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Slavery, Forced Marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Warnings May Change, Not Beta Read Summary:

After a storm wrecked their ship in the midst of the Summer Sea, Halissa and Emre, two friends who had been forced to flee their home, the city of Stygai in the Shadow Lands, find themselves at the mercy of slavers who take them to Volantis to be sold.

And they are... to a khal of the Dothraki.

[starbcrnsx]

location: volantis

tagging: @seccndchances open for anyone

While he didn't enjoy sitting in the sun as much as his friends did Cassian still enjoyed letting his wings get some sun. As he sat there with his wings soaking it up slightly he smirked as he looked at the other, his head tilting slightly to the side as he felt himself in a relaxed state. "I don't know if that's entirely a good idea."

[dame-lazarus]

10 fanfiction questions

Tagged by @albatrossisland 💕💕 thank you!

1. what’s your favorite genre to write? I love black comedy most of all (my favorite shows on TV right now are Barry and Killing Eve) and everything I write tends toward this. Soul-crushing angst with humor smattered throughout.

2. do you pull inspiration from real life, or do you pull things from other books/fanfiction you’ve read? A really unholy mix. I often get nuggets of ideas that I like from documentaries or other nonfiction that I roll around until I find where to put them. See Lost and Found, which took a lot from the many true crime and cult documentaries and books I consume, both in structure and in content. I do find real life stuff sneaking in, even in small ways. For instance, I just got back from Japan when I started The Red Thread, so Volantis there is like a sweaty Kyoto. I honestly think fiction writing is always a form of fanfiction of your life in some way.

3. do you tend to write one-shots, short stories, or longer things? the short story is my medium of choice and so with fic I prefer one-shots and work on the shorter side.

4. do you prefer to write description or dialogue? Dialogue all the way. I wanted to be a journalist in my youth and also have been documenting humorous quotes from friends and family for years and years in journals, blogs, and now social media. Consequently, I think I have an affinity for dialogue, and have a lot of fun thinking of it too.

5. favorite fic/book of all time?

My favorite fics take deep dives into the wider universe of the canon while balancing this with an exploration of how this affects relationships (romantic and otherwise.)

My all-time favorite fic is Phoenix Burning by Yahtzee. It’s a Buffy canon divergence from the season 5 finale where Buffy is resurrected not a few months down the road but 350 years in the future in a dystopian vampire-ridden London, alongside several other previous slayers. (Would be scarier if her immortal vampire-with-a-soul ex wasn’t still around and kicking.)

In this fandom: Stay Gold by Renega, doing all the gen/shipper balance that I love; A Great Fountain by @kiraziwrites for the same reason;

Though Our Paths Diverge by @robotsdance;

It’s Like Weather by @oneangryshot for its galaxy brain, funny, super meta premise

Non-fic favorites: The Power by Naomi Alderman is my current favorite book.

6. favorite trope? I love hurt/comfort and reunions after a long angsty time spent apart. J/B has a plentiful amount of opportunities for this. Jaime’s arrival to Winterfell in @dreadwulf’s A Man for All Seasons, for instance, was just like pour-this-into-my-veins content in this regard.

7. are you the kind of person to work on more than one WIP? I prefer one at a time, especially because I get lots of ideas and I find that if I work on them as they come I never finish anything. Sometimes it happens, though, especially when I get involved with challenges or contests.

8. how long have you been writing for? Years! I’ve always been making up stories. I wrote fic in high school and middle school, and worked on original writing at the same time. I tapered off with fic in college but still wrote original fiction and poetry sometimes. Tried writing but never really finished fic and original stuff in my post-college years. (I have some epic outlines though.) This past year (2019), I decided to give writing a serious go. At the time I meant original writing, which I am still doing, but I also turned back to fic too. The community and the (way) less competitive, open craft discussions in fandom have been so lovely.

9. do you tend to write more during the morning, afternoon, or evening? I usually write in the evenings after dinner and continue late into the night if I am really into it. My partner goes to bed before me a lot so I often use that window to write. I also like to write on weekend mornings if I can. (Can you tell I have no kids? Ha.) Sometimes in the Before Times I’d have a good idea on my morning subway commute and write it out, but it tends to ruin my focus to work on non-writing things during the day when I do that.

10. do you prefer to post and update your WIP chapter by chapter, or do you prefer to wait until your WIP is 100% finished before sharing it? I’m incredibly impatient, and this is a problem with regards to original writing, as you can’t tweak lit mag submissions after you post them like you can on AO3 😂. So I am trying to work on that with my one-shots—take some time away from it and do a last read-through before posting. I don’t use betas currently because I am not in a position bandwith-wise to pay it forward, and thus I feel bad. I don’t have a problem posting chapters of WIPs before the whole fic is finished (at least, the one time I wrote a multi-chap fic I didn’t!) but I have to have it fully planned out and outlined before I can start publishing.

Tagging: @samirant @pretty--thief @seethemflying @angel-deux-writes @agirlnamedkeith @scoundrels-in-love

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Fate

Part 6

Summary: Daenerys refuses to accept the fact that you are dead and sends Daario on a mission to find a way to resurrect you. What will happen? Will he succeed? Will you come back? Will someone else die? What happened to the rest?

A/N: Alas, there’s no Jon this chapter, but at least Daenerys finally made an appearance in the current times.

Warnings: Angst, death!

Fate Masterlist

Taglist

Word Count: 1660.

After your death, Jon was exiled. The North was independent with Sansa as the new queen. Bran was elected to be King of the Six Kingdoms and Tyrion became his Hand. Yara and the new prince of Dorne wanted to oppose but they wanted peace more, so they accepted him as the king.

Grey Worm, the Unsullied and the Dothraki sailed back to Essos, but not in defeat. They were coming to get reinforcements from your mother Daenerys Targaryen.

Before they arrived, Drogon and Rhaegal had already delivered your corpse to her.

“No, no, no! Wake up! Y/n wake up” she held your dead body closer to her chest and embraced you.

“Your grace!” Daario entered the hall.

“I should’ve been with her. A mother shouldn’t see her child dead. I should’ve gone with her to Westeros. I sent her there inexperienced and alone. I see that now. One of the reasons I stayed was because of you, Daario Naharis and what did I get in return? Is that the price I have to pay for being a little bit happy?”.

“Your grace I-”.

“You what? Leave and don’t come back without a way to bring her back” she ordered.

“But it’s impossible”.

“Is it? Then you will never see me again. Now leave!”.

After a week of asking and travelling non stop, Daario finally returned with a red priestess from Volantis.

“What are you doing here? I thought I asked you not to return unless you find a way” Daenerys asked.

“I believe I have, your grace” he informed her.

“You believe? Believing is not enough! I need you to know. I need it to work, before I can have hope again-”.

“If I may speak, your grace?”.

“And you are?”.

“My name is Sashare. I was gold that you lost someone dear to you and looking for a way to get her back”.

“You can bring back the dead?”.

“No… but the lord of light can”.

“You’re of the faith of R’hllor?”.

“You know who he is, your grace?” she was surprised.

“I’ve heard about him and I’ve seen other priests and priestesses in the city before”.

“How long has she been dead for?”.

“Two weeks if not more”.

“Two weeks?! I’m afraid I cannot help you”.

“So you’ve come all this way to tell me that you cannot do anything?” Daenerys started losing hope.

“I am sorry! The Lord of Light wanted me here for a reason. Although I cannot help you, someone else may”.

“Who?”.

“The first servant of the Lord of Light, Kinvara”.

“And where do I find this Kinvara?”.

“To go north, you must journey south. To reach the west, you must go east. To go forward you must go back, and to touch the light you must pass beneath the shadow" she repeated to her what Quaithe once told her, a mysterious shadowbinder from Asshai who she met while she was in Qarth.

Daenerys was shocked by her words “Asshai? Is the priestess there?”.

“She’s waiting where the Faith of R’hllor originated from. Where the first and last dragon eggs were found. But I must warn you, it’s a dangerous place. You could lose more loved ones and the longer you wait, the chances of her resurrection decrease”.

“The shadow Lands beyond Asshai! I will get there in time. I have dragons or have you forgotten? But if you’re lying to me, I’ll have you executed for it” Daenerys warned “as for you, Daario Naharis, you may accompany me”.

“Me? On a dragon?”.

“Yes. Or are you afraid?”.

“Not at all. It’ll be my pleasure”.

Daenerys rode on her Dragon Rhaellys and Daarior rode behind her. Rhaegal didn’t allow anyone to ride him, not even Daenerys. The only person who  did ride him other than you was Jon Snow. But now he has lost you both. Drogon carried you all the way to the Shadow Lands, but when it was time to put you on the ground, he was skeptical and refused at the beginning until Daenerys assured him that she wouldn’t let anything happen to you- or your corpse. 

The place they landed in was dark and full of terrors that they didn’t know about. The three dragons were on guard, while Daario carried you and followed Daenerys into the first temple of R’hllor.

As they entered, they saw Kinvara praying to the fire “At last! I’ve been wondering when you’d arrive”.

“You knew we were coming?” Daenerys asked.

“Of course. The Lord of Light informed me of your arrival. I have a hard task ahead of me. Y/n has been dead for some time now. It might not work, but I will try my best and if the Lord of Light wills it, she will return to you. You can put her here” she signaled Daario and started working.

She washed your body from the blood with a wet cloth, cut a braid from your hair, threw it in the fire-pit, placed her hands on your chest and started reciting an incantation in Valyrian while  “Zyhys oñoso jehikagon Aeksiot epi, se gis hen syndrorro jemagon. Zyhys perzys stepagon Aeksio Oño jorepi, se morghultas lys qelitsos sikagon. Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson” ( We ask the Lord to shine his light, and lead a soul out of darkness. We beg the Lord to share his fire, and light a candle that has gone out. From darkness, light. From ashes, fire. From death, life). She repeated the incantation several times but it didn’t work. It may have been, indeed too late.

Suddenly, the three dragons started screeching and Daario immediately left to see.

“Go!  I can finish this on my own, but I need time… take the flame with you” Kinvara ordered Daenerys and she did what she asked. 

When she went outside to see, there were scary creatures that she’s never seen before. They attacked the dragons and when they saw her and Daario, they were headed for them. 

Luckily, Rhaellys managed to stop one of them, but it ended with her death.

“No, no, no! I cannot lose another child” she was on the verge of a breakdown.

“Stand and fight for your living children. You can mourn later” Daario tried to motivate her.

“You must leave now or you will never make it” Kinvara exited the temple.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with her” Daenerys reminded.

“I did what I could. If you want to leave alive with your remaining children, now is the time!”.

“I’m not leaving without my daughter” Daenerys insisted.

“Tell the dragons to leave and get on one, I’ll get Y/n” Daario ran inside.

“I will give you as much time as I can” Kinvara started reciting another incantation and then a circle of fire appeared, keeping them out for the time being.

Unfortunately, Rhaegal was badly injured and flew away. Drogon kept fighting from inside the circle with Daenerys on his back.

“Go, go, go!” Daario managed to put you and himself on Drogon’s back.

“Come with us!” Daenerys offered.

“My time is over. Remember, from death comes life and from ashes, fire” those were Kinvara’s last words before the creatures devoured her.

---

“You think she’s still in there?” Daario entered your room where your corpse lay on the bed. Daenerys was sitting next to you and mourning the death of her other child.

“I know she is. I can feel it. She can’t be gone for good. I can’t take it”.

“I know that you don’t want to hear anything right now, but I have some news for you”.

“What is it now? Someone else in the city betrayed me?” she had dark circles under her eyes, her hair was loose and she was in despair.

“No, I come bearing good news. Apparently, Rhaellys has laid three eggs before we left for the Shadow Lands” he informed her.

“What? Who knows about this?”.

“Just me and the Maester”.

“...of course”.

“Of course what?” Daario was confused.

“I know what I have to do now”.

Daenerys prepared a funeral for you, just like the one she did for Drogo. She laid the three dragon eggs next to you and hoped for one last miracle as she burned your body.

---

“Your grace, Grey Worm and your army have returned” Daario informed her.

“My queen, it been too long. I am sorry I failed you. I deserve to die. You should punish me for my betrayal. I must inform you that queen Y/n is murdered by a man called Jon Snow. It is my fault. I not be there to guard her and when I find out, it be too late. Drogon take her somewhere, I not know where” Grey Worm informed her with his eyes never meeting hers in a shame.

“Grey Worm, you, Ser Jorah the Andals and Missandei were my friends and most trusted advisors. Now only you remain alive. How could I execute you? You never betrayed me, you just did not know that this man was going to betray you and it’s not your fault. As for Y/n, well…” she signaled with her hand and you came out.

“My queen!” he immediately knelt and looked at the ground, not able to make eye contact with you either.

“Grey Worm. I’m glad you’re safe” you hugged him and he was shocked but hugged you back.

“I am sorry. I not protect you. I not kill Jon for you. But Tomorrow I sail back, avenge you” he promised.

“It’s alright Grey Worm. Like my mother said, you didn’t know. Neither did I and he fooled me too. Tomorrow we sail to Westeros again. This time to Winterfell. We will take back what is ours with Fire & Blood” you smirked.

This time you were not alone. Daenerys was coming for them all, to show them what happens when someone messes with her daughter.

Tags:  @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @simonsbluee @marvel-addict-95 @capsheadquaters @bucky-blogs @octaviareina @winterscommander @patdsinner @doctorswife221b @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @queenmxndes @simplyfandomish @coltonparayyko @blonddnamedhandz

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

'// U //' for the no-pain prompts: The Gammas watching Fred and Veta interact from a distance, all heckling and appreciating them in equal amounts. 💙

Okay so first I have to say I reread Sugarsweet because it's awesome and I'm still trying to nail the characterization the way you have. So this is a follow up to that in a way. Freta....and their 3 beautiful mutant children :)

-

Something was different between Mom and the Lt.

They had been preparing since Kelly had sent the message after their unofficial mission to the bar. Mom had been tight-lipped after they got back but said she did deliver their message to Fred. The Lt had ignored their looks and then had the nerve to make them run extra drills when they pressed him the next day. Ash had opened his mouth to ask why his ears were so red but Olivia elbowed him in time and Mark dragged the two of them away.

Linda gave nothing away and Kelly only smiled wider when they swarmed them at meal times. It was only after another slog of classes and trainings that Kelly showed mercy and gave them some advice.

"Fred's never been good at schooling his face. You need to be patient, treat this as reconnaissance practice. Learn his tells, watch their body language, and if they catch you say it's part of your homework."

So the Ferrets began their information gathering.

Their targets had busy schedules but always seemed to catch each other in the morning, right after meetings. They'd walk to Mom's office before the next round of briefings, and the Ferrets could tell something was up. The body language between them was light and open, playful even as the Lt brushed his knuckles against her elbow. He stood in her door and chatted for what seemed like forever, at least for a Spartan.

The Ferrets watched and learned before slinking away. Meeting Mom later meant noticing the large jacket on the back of her chair as she fidgeted in her new office and spun in circles while they sprawled out over every available surface.

She couldn't understand how they seemed comfortable sitting anywhere, but something was off. Her kids' body language was too relaxed. They looked like they did when trying to blend in as civilians. A little too much effort in appearing apathetic.

Lopis stops spinning her chair and squints her eyes at them, folding her hands on her desk in her best Osman impression.

"What are you up to?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" Mark almost fools her with the act but the way he bites his cheek gives him away. Olivia does a decent job distracting her with "Well we wanted to check on you. How have you been adjusting to the recent changes?"

"Uh huh..." Lopis replies sardonically and turns her gaze to Ash who is smiling a bit too wide. "Ash?"

"I just wanted to ask about your new jacket, doesn't really seem like your size, Mom."

There’s a knock at her door, and she lets out a quiet breath and calls them in.

It’s Fred. Of course it’s Fred.

He’s mirroring her expression, a deer frozen in the headlights before he weakly asks,

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope!”

“No.”

“We’re done here.”

The Ferrets pop up in unison and file out the door with smiles on their faces. Both adults are watching them go without stopping them, and Mark closes the door with a “Bye Mom, Bye Dad, have fun on your date!”

[prlrocks]

I was tagged by:  @kalena-henden and @twilight-deviant. Thanks guys! 

Zodiac:  Cancer

Height: 5′5″

Put your playlist on shuffle and list the first 4 songs.

UM.... my whole Ipod is nothing but my podcasts. I listen to way too many. Mostly fandom, but some history, travel and self help stuff as well. 

I love music, but tend to listen to it at home. On the move, it’s podcasts. 

Grab the nearest book and turn to page 23 what does line 17 say: ...”prince Garin the Great, and it is said that, in Volantis....

-The World of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin

Ever had a song or poem written about you?: Nope. 

When’s the last time you played air guitar?: I move around and whatnot to music, but not sure on the air guitar part. 

What is a sound you hate and one you love?: I hate the sound of someone brushing their teeth. I’m fine with my own, but if I hear someone else brushing it is like nails on a chalkboard to me. It’s weird. 

I like the sound of rain. 

Do you believe in ghosts?: Mentally no, but the concept scares me and I’m like, ‘What if?’ Growing up one of my close friends talked about her and her mother seeing shadow people walking around their house and it has freaked me out since.  

Do you believe in aliens?: I do believe that there is other life in the universe, so yes. 

Do you drive? And if so have you ever gotten yourself into an accident?: Nope! But I have been in a car when an accident has happened. 

Do you like the smell of gasoline?: I do! When I was growing up the garage smelled of it and I just loved it. 

What’s the last movie you’ve seen?: Tragically, the last movie I watched was the Incredible Hulk.... Such a bad movie, but I’m doing a Marvel rewatch before Endgame. 

Do you have an obsession right now?: I always have some form of fandom obsession going on. It’s part of who I am. Right now, my focus is on Marvel. 

In a relationship?: Nope... don’t miss being in one either. I have my family and friends, plus enjoy my time alone. 

I would like to know better: 

Anyone who wants to do this!