#and as ive said before i will die behind every opinion i have about him

[kurazaru]

What do you wish you had the courage for?

I wish I had the courage to say no. I wish I had the courage to confront people and call them out on their bs. I wish I had the courage to be different, to be who I am, unafraid to be judged by others. I wish I had the courage to be everything I ever wanted to be....

College has been a rollercoaster of emotions, mostly bad ones. I met this one guy during induction, nd we became pretty good frnds. But as i started hanging around him more nd more, ive seen soo many red flags. He doesn't take accountability for his actions, he always blames something or another for his failure. He talks shit about his family, who as far as I've seen, is so caring, but who am I to have an opinion ant his family matters. I don't know what happens behind the scenes, and I don't get to comment on that. He gets so angry while gaming, snapping at the most smallest inconvenience. Like the other day, my roommate accidentally tripped over the extention box, which was connected to my frnds laptop, nd he blasted my roommate. And then, asks in a "cute" nd "apologetic" way, "Are you Angry" to my roommate. That pissed me off. He always does that. Gets angry, hurts the other person's feelings, and then apologizes INSTEAD OF CHANGING HIMSELF. He keeps complaining that the reason he doesn't get marks in maths is coz they didn't teach that stuff in his prev school, but doesn't try to solve suns nd improve himself either. If u know that this stuff is new fr you, you should hv studied it SOMETIME BEFORE 24HRS OF THE EXAM. And omg he keeps asking me to teach him stuff. Like , once or twice is fine, BUT THE DAY BEFORE EVERY EXAM?? UMM I NEED TO STUDY TOO?? And also he doesn't even hv the most basic knowledge.. I am not here to teach you everything frm the beginning. We both attend the same classes, if i can do everything properly without any help, you should be able to atleast understand the basics of the class if u listen rightttt. Then I can help. And omg the other day he told me that he cried coz "he didn't have anyone" like??? I was ALWAYS there fr him. And ok, you can say whatever u want abt me, but there is this another guy who's just the sweetest, nd he ALWAYS took care of him. Saying that he didn't have anyone is a huge insult to that guy. Nd then when he told me abt this in class, he told me that I'm his "best frnd" but I don't even care. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY TO THAT?? LIKE OH DON'T WORRY IM THERE FR YOU? LIKE I WAS THERE FR YOU ND YOU STILL FELT THAT WAY SO LIKE HOW WILL THAT HELP. Then he told me that when he was born, he was abt to die. And I was like, well you sure are so lucky that you lived coz?? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY TO THAT RANDOM PIECE OF INFO? Like the moment he said that, I knew what he was gonna follow it with, that he should hv died nd suicide nd blah blah blah. And then he told that. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY THEN OMG😭 And then he told me that everyone who he ever loves leaves him. Maybe coz ur pretty fucking manipulative? Like what is the point of all this 😭 Welp that's that. I didn't talk much to him today(i slept on accident last night writing this rant so currently it's the next day) nd I had SUCH A GREAT DAY. Now, let's go to the next problem ✨

This is pretty stupid but MY ROOMATE KEEPS DRINKING ALL OF MY WATER?? MD DOESN'T FUCKING REFILL IT. I get so fucking annoyed. I always drink water the first thing in the morning. So i fill my 500mL waterbottle the prev night, BD EVERYDAY ITS FUCKING EMPTY WHEN I WAKE UP. ND ALSO THROUGHOUT THE DAY I FILL MY WATER ND WHEN I WANNA DRINK IT ITS ALWAYS FUCKING EMPTY OMFG IT'S DRIVING ME INSANE I HATE HIM SO MUCH. He's also so fucking lazy nd dirty nd SEVERELY LACKS BASIC MANNERS. I hate him 🥰

I'm done ranting fr now, nd now I'll go cry coz idk what else to do.

[roseworth]

dc fandom for the salt ask because i know you want to talk about jason asdjfl;skdhf;lsdaflh pick the ones that you wanna talk about!

salty ask list

anon my beloved you know me so well! i always want to talk about jason! im not even gonna find the list im just gonna start talking <3

FIRST OF ALL i think that judd winick writes him better than anyone. i know some people dont like winick (i honestly have no idea why, ive always liked everything ive read by him but maybe im missing something idk!) but the way winick writes him is very important to me 😌 bc jason above all else believes in what hes doing and will not compromise his own ideals just because bruce is a little bitch boy! he kills with a Purpose and always knows what hes doing :) and winick always writes him as super capable and always one step ahead, plus the lost days showed that he doesnt kill freely, he kills the people that are either actively hurting others or are showing that they wont change! and i love him dearly for it 💕

also everyone that didnt like the newest issue of task force z is a coward! i wish that dc would give him one (1) other plot line besides "hes fighting with the batfamily!" but i think that this is one of the best "fighting with his family" stories because it showed him as Competent instead of just getting the shit beat out of him, PLUS it talked about a lot of stuff that the comics have been brushing under the rug for a long time. he actively called them out for always side eyeing him and underestimating him, AND how hes expected to change himself to be accepted by his family :(

HOWEVER contrary to everything i just said, i like the idea of him giving up guns. he has canonically said before that the reason he was using them in the first place was to piss off bruce (slay) so i think that its not out of character for him to be like "okay fine im not that mad at bruce anymore ill stop using them." plus in urban legends he even said that he still thinks people should die, i feel like giving him a weapon besides guns at least gives writers a restraint so that hes not killing without thinking (which he doesnt do!) and the only people hes killing are the people he really wants to kill :) idk if i explained that well lol! but i still hate that hes using crowbars. i know that he had that little speech in tfz that he wasnt technically killed by a crowbar but its still weird that hes using it as his weapon. give him a tire iron pls ❤️❤️❤️

and finally, sc*tt l*bdell will never see the gates of heaven

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Extra 5

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths (2)

And so, Cheng Yixie returned to Cheng Qianli's side.

After leaving his first door, Cheng Qianli came down with a fever. He was sent to the ICU that night. Their parents both thought Cheng Qianli wouldn't make it, but only Cheng Yixie knew that Cheng Qianli was welcoming his rebirth.

A few days later, Cheng Qianli left the ICU, his body slowly healing. The first sight that greeted him upon his waking was his brother Cheng Yixie.

Cheng Yixie was sitting on a chair beside his bed, leaning back with his eyes lightly closed, apparently asleep. Cheng Qianli saw the sunlight spill over Cheng Yixie's black hair, making the inky strands seem slightly translucent. Speckled light dripped through tree branches and upon his back, and for a moment, it looked like he had wings. In Cheng Qianli's eyes, Cheng Yixie seemed as holy as an angel fallen from the heavens.

The angel's lashes trembled, and his eyes opened. Sleepiness clouded his dark pupils, and it was only in moments like this when a childlike tenderness could still be seen in his gaze.

"Ge," Cheng Qianli called to him.

The instant he heard this, the child in Cheng Yixie's eyes faded. His gaze returned to their deep, lake-like calmness as he looked at Cheng Yixie.

"Awake? Does it hurt anywhere?"

Cheng Qianli shook his head. "I think I'm pretty okay."

Maybe he was imagining things, but he thought that the bout of sickness this time actually made his body more healthy; the places that were always quietly hurting didn't feel like anything right now.

"Mh," Cheng Yixie said. "Leave with me tomorrow then."

Cheng Qianli was stunned. "Leave? For where?"

Cheng Yixie, "a place that can save your life."

Cheng Qianli stared at Cheng Yixie in a daze. Cheng Yixie thought he'd at least ask some questions, but the fool nodded right then and there, concerned just enough to ask, "have you told mom and dad? They won't stop us, right?"

"No," Cheng Yixie said. "I've already talked to them."

Upon his return this time, he'd gotten a check-up at the hospital. The doctors had been shocked to find his body completely recovered from terminal disease. By all reason, this kind of congenital cardiovascular malformation had no treatment at all given the state of modern medicine, but there hadn't been a single symptom to be found on Cheng Yixie's body.

"Let him come with me. If he stays here he'll die," Cheng Yixie had told his parents. "Only I can save him. I'm the best example."

Faced with Cheng Yixie's somewhat absurd request, their parents had at first been a little hesitant. But after Cheng Yixie used his own healthy body as proof, they'd agreed to it in the end. Because even if they got to keep Cheng Qianli, the doctors didn't have any solutions. Since that was the case, why not let Cheng Yixie have a gamble?

After that, Cheng Yixie successfully took Cheng Qianli with him out of the hospital, and the two returned to Obsidian.

Obsidian was a warm place. Cheng Yixie rejoiced that he had been able to meet such a group of people. But Cheng Qianli was only a kid who practically grew up in the hospital—he was scared of the dark and a wimp. Though his body was growing gradually healthier after entering the doors, he still couldn't manage to extricate himself from that terrifying world.

He couldn't sleep because of the nightmares; every night he came to Cheng Yixie crying, barefoot, hugging a pillow and saying, "Ge, I had a nightmare again…"

Cheng Yixie was at his computer looking up information. He turned his head back and shot Cheng Qianli a look, before gesturing with his chin for Cheng Qianli to get on the bed.

Cheng Qianli obediently crawled into the large bed behind him, staring up at the ceiling in a daze.

"Ge, aren't you scared?"

Cheng Yixie, "scared of what?"

"Of ghosts," Cheng Qianli answered.

"What's so scary about ghosts," Cheng Yixie said. "I'm not scared of ghosts."

"Then what are you scared of?" Cheng Qianli's voice asked from behind him.

This question, Cheng Yixie did not answer for Cheng Qianli. Cool light spilled from the computer screen onto his impassive face. He didn't want to say what he feared out loud, because it felt like if he said it it would come true.

Cheng Qianli didn't pursue the question, either. His even breathing came from behind—he was just a kid, after all. Once he wasn't scared anymore, he fell quickly asleep.

A few days later, Cheng Qianli saw Cheng Yixie come into the house with a furry lump in his arms. Before Cheng Qianli could react, Cheng Yixie was tossing that lump into his arms. The lump perked up its furry little butt and lapped like crazy at Cheng Qianli's cheek with its tongue. It licked Cheng Qianli into giggles, and Cheng Qianli registered then that the lump was an adorable little corgi—he exclaimed in a moment of pure delight, "it's a corgi! Ge!! I love you!!"

Cheng Yixie nodded at Cheng Qianli, turned around, and left.

What kid didn't like animals? It was just that their physical conditions before hadn't allowed them such hobbies. Now that Cheng Qianli was getting healthy, he'd given Cheng Qianli a long-coveted present.

Of course Cheng Qianli was happy beyond words, gobbling up extra bites of dinner that night. He even went around excitedly collecting everybody's opinion on what to name the dog, before finally making a decision—Toast.

Toast was the little corgi's name.

With Toast around, Cheng Qianli's mental state got a lot better. He no longer sought Cheng Yixie out at night because he couldn't sleep.

Cheng Yixie would sometimes go to his room and check on him in the middle of the night. He'd see the kid sprawled out with limbs akimbo, bent in all sorts of strange ways on the bed. And Toast would be lying right next to him, sleeping with its belly up—the two of them, one large and one small, made a particularly harmonious scene.

And Cheng Yixie would look away. When he closed the door behind him that night, he saw Ruan Nanzhu standing and smoking in the hallway.

"You're up so late?" Ruan Nanzhu asked him.

"Mh," Cheng Yixie said. "Couldn't sleep."

"It's his second door in two days. Nervous?" Ruan Nanzhu said.

Cheng Yixie was silent for a while, before nodding and admitting to the anxiety deep in his heart.

"It's never easy." Ruan Nanzhu stubbed out his cigarette. "And you're still so young…I'll go in with you."

Cheng Yixie thanked Ruan Nanzhu in response.

Ruan Nanzhu said nothing, just started back to his room. But when he pushed his door open, his footsteps halted, and he looked back at Cheng Yixie.

"But he'll have to grow up sooner or later."

Cheng Yixie met Ruan Nanzhu's eyes. He knew what Ruan Nanzhu meant.

"You can't protect him forever," Ruan Nanzhu said.

"Do you think he can do it?" Cheng Yixie asked. "Do you think, he can come as far as I have?"

Ruan Nanzhu sighed, and said nothing more.

Some things could be achieved with hard work, but other things could only be gotten through talent. Though it wasn't fair, this was the case for the world of the doors.

Some people were naturally suited to enter the doors. They were calm and clever; even in the most dangerous moments, they could think of ways to escape.

But some people couldn't.

Cheng Yixie was a person suited to the doors, but his brother Cheng Qianli was just a regular dumb kid.

Cheng Yixie didn't know how many times he'd fantasized about this—what a fortunate thing it would be if they had healthy bodies.

Cheng Qianli would grow up normally. Perhaps he'd be a bit stupid, and his grades would mean headaches for their parents, but that was fine. He would have a clever older brother. His brother could watch over him.

But all these fantasies were simply wishful thinking.

Cheng Yixie returned to his room. Nobody knew better than he did that Cheng Qianli was not suited to the doors. If things progressed down their regular tracks, Cheng Qianli would most likely very quickly die in the following doors.

But how could Cheng Yixie let all that happen? He'd already decided the path that he would walk.

Three days later, Ruan Nanzhu and the Cheng twins entered Cheng Qianli's second door together.

This door was not particularly difficult, but to Cheng Qianli, it was still horribly thrilling; he was screaming of fright the whole time.

Cheng Yixie asked him, "how the hell did you even survive your first door?"

"I don't know," Cheng Qianli said. "I just went quietly to bed every night, and then one day I saw an open door. It was all bright inside, and after I walked in, I was out…"

Both Cheng Yixie and Ruan Nanzhu sank into a peculiar silence at this. It looked like fortune favors fools really was a wise saying.

After exiting his second door, Cheng Qianli got sick again for over a week. The doctor said it was caused by an excess amount of right.

Cheng Yixie watched over him as he got his IV drip, and Cheng Qianli was all wilted and sticky with sickness. He asked Cheng Yixie, "gege, how do I get better at this?"

Cheng Yixie patted his forehead, saying nothing.

"Will I get better if I stop being scared of ghosts," Cheng Qianli said. "I've decided, I'm going to watch a scary movie every day once we're back…"

Cheng Yixie wanted to sigh, but in the end, couldn't do it. He only spoke lightly, "focus on getting better first. Everything else, there's no rush. Ge's here."

Cheng Qianli nodded obediently.

Cheng Yixie thought Cheng Qianli had only been saying so, but after he got better, he actually did start watching scary movies. And one per day. Every single day he would be curled up in the living room with a blanket wrapped around his entire body, still scaring as badly as a quail each time.

Cheng Yixie was exasperated, but didn't try to talk him out of it. It pretty much looked like Cheng Qianli's courage wasn't something that could be built up.

Though Cheng Qianli wasn't particularly strong, he injected a different kind of life into Obsidian.

When the group grew numb from the torment of the terrifying doors, the upbeat Cheng Qianli was just like an oil pastel, swiping rich colors back onto Obsidian and filling the place with the breath of life.

If only the days could continue on like this, how nice would that be? Cheng Yixie wouldn't think this just the once. Some things, however, couldn't be avoided just by hiding.

Everything changed in Cheng Yixie's seventh door.

That door was vicious beyond measure, and Cheng Yixie was the only survivor. Just as he was stumbling out the door, he got his hands on a hint slip different from all others.

A detailed hint for the next door was written on the slip of paper.

In that moment, Cheng Yixie didn't comprehend just how this hint slip would change the tracks out under his life. He was still rejoicing, rejoicing that he'd once again escaped disaster, rejoicing that he'd gotten a hint to the eighth door, rejoicing that he'd be able to see Cheng Qianli again.

But a long, long time later, when he remembered this moment, he would realize that the Cheng Yixie back then had been standing at the crossroads of fate.

On one side of fate was hell. And on the other, was also hell.

[Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(1)] | [Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(3)]

[jarofstyles]

Fan Club IV

A/N: This part 👀 I can’t lie, it’s very hot and smutty. Y’all did ask for filth though so, be warned. It’s the catalyst to essentially the rest of the story. This of course, as all our stories are, is all fiction, so, sit back and enjoy! ✨✨✨ - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, filth!, exhibitionism, DIRTY talk, degradation!kink, messy 👀, angst

word count: 16k

When Jeff texted Y/N about an event that she was meant to attend with Harry at the club she got slightly nervous. One, because she knew there would be loads of paps, two because it was a club night with Harry, three because drunk Y/N was something else. 

The outfit was already selected, Y/N had picked out something she knew would wow both Harry and everyone else at the club. She figured since most girls Harry had on his arm were beautiful in the model way, Y/N would show off what it meant to be beautiful in another way. The dress showed off every single curve she had, accented her waist and brought attention to her assets with grace. It was a light pink silky dress and it fit like a glove. Y/N has spent the night before and day of preparing. Showering,  moisturizing, doing her hair and makeup to make sure it was absolutely perfect. She sprayed herself with her perfume and checked herself out in the mirror one more time. She looked impeccable if she did say so herself. 

Harry hadn’t been sure about what the night would bring. Things with Y/N had been alright. Sometimes he would be a little cold but it was mainly after she would turn him on, and he had to kill the mood ASAP. Because if he didn’t? He may do something he regretted. 

Tonight she was going to go home with him. Jeff had chartered a car for them, so he had gotten driven to pick up Y/N as well, they’d never had a sleepover before. He wasn’t sure what that would bring either. How far his self control could stretch. Harry liked to think he could be good with it. But with the possibility of Y/N now knowing his weakness, his lowered inhibitions, and close quarters would be so difficult for him. He felt a little nervous pulling up to her place, popping a piece of gum in his mouth. Jeff had said they needed to be a bit more obvious about their relationship now, and Harry needed a few drinks in him to really let go. To her it would be acting. To him? It was living out a fantasy with an excuse afterwards. However when Y/N had crawled into the car, his throat went dry. No. No fucking way— he was gong. To die. The silk of the dress clinging to every inch of her, her lips glossy and a deeper color. He was going into overdrive in his mind.

“Hiya!” Y/N giggled as she hopped into the car. She knew. Of course she knew the outfit she was wearing was going to push the envelope, it would make Harry act a certain way and inevitably help her find out how he actually felt about her. Y/N wanted to know for a fact if she was making up the sexual tension between them because Harry really was just flirty. Fucking libra placements. Jeff had instructed the two of them to drink tonight, let loose and just have fun. That worried Y/N a tad bit because well, when she was drunk she had no filter. For the sake of the club night and people watching them it would be great, for them alone tonight? She wasn’t so sure. From what she knew about drunk Harry? Well, he’d be all over her too. But drunk Harry really just clung on to anyone around him. 

During the week Harry and Y/N had seen each other a few times in the morning at the bakery, did their usual routine and well, Harry truly would have eaten his body weight in lemon bars by the end of it all. More fans were coming into the bakery, expecting to see him. They were actually surprisingly really nice to Y/N and gave her compliments and told her that she was doing a great job. Y/N was told not to confirm or deny to make things seem more natural, but still let them know that it was in fact true.

Harry had to reconnect his brain to his mouth because half of him was dying at the moment. The bottom half. His brain was fuzz. How did a girl look this good? How? And of course. It was the one person he shouldn’t be having at all. But his body gave not a single fuck, and his heart too, apparently. 

“Hi...” He said after clearing his throat. “You look.... uh, good.” Fit. Sexy. The dress clinging to the curves that had his mouth watering and the fact he knew they’d be dancing tonight and she would feel if he was hard which... he couldn’t kid himself and say there wasn’t a high possibility. It was scary. There was more than just sexual frustration too, for example, how Harry did actually like her, but he was too afraid to get hurt. How he wanted to hold her hand and always, always wanted to be touching her all the damn time. He knew after a few drinks he could be needy, clingy. Would Y/N be okay with it? Their mornings at the bakery had resulted in some cheek kisses and hugs longer than needed but, he hadn’t been very touching before.

“thanks babe.” Y/N smiled, “you look nice as usual.” She added as she buckled up. They talked more often now, things were less awkward during car rides and frankly she had a feeling Harry was only quiet because he was overwhelmed by how she looked. The drive was a short one, seeing as they were relatively close to central by car. It would be quick to get to the club they were meant to be at and Y/N knew that the second they stepped out of this car they’d be all over each other. 

As they arrived, paparazzi stood waiting for them, having expected this event. Jeff has planned tonight to be the official announcement of their relationship. They had been photographed for four months now and well, people were eating it up.

“Alright.. I know that the paparazzi are a lot sometimes so just don’t let go of my hand and I’ll make sure you’re good. Yeah?”’ The memories of her panic attack made him so sad. So worried. Harry didn’t want that to happen again but if it did, at least now he knew how to deal with them. Half of him was giddy with excitement though. Getting to be touchy with her, getting to hold her close and be coupley? He was very much wanting that. Either it would help him get it out of his system or it would fuck him over. Either way, he would be touching her. 

Harry got out first, holding her hand as he helped her down. He was feeling extra protective but this time they stood back. Still shouting things but he squeezed her slender hand in his and helped her towards the door. It really was show time. 

Y/N appreciated how worried Harry was, nodding at him as he spoke and giving his hand a squeeze. Stepping out of the car, she was thankful that this time the paps actually had barriers they couldn’t cross. It took a lot of the anxiety away and well, she just stayed close to Harry and walked inside feeling like she really had accomplished something. The person working the door took her jacket, exposing her and all her beauty to everyone at the event. The silk of her dress made sure she felt the warmth of Harry’s touch even more so than usual, a smile spreading across her face as she looked up at him. 

Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, “we’ll go find Jeff first, okay? If you get uncomfortable just let me know. I know we’re gonna be a bit much but I don’t want to overstep boundaries.” It was whispered to her.

Y/N’s face softened, noticing his worry yet again. “It’s fine, really. I don’t mind.” Y/N spoke softly back to him, “I trust you.” She really did. Harry was always extremely respectful and she knew that he was asking because he wanted to make sure. Despite them being together for, what? four months now, and the fact that this was a normal occurrence, she was happy to know he respected her the way he did.

Harry felt relief when she said she trusted him because honestly, her opinion did mean a lot to him. Even if he didn’t want to let himself accept it— she was important to him already. He wanted her to feel safe with him, always. 

“That’s good.” He smiled down at her. Y/N looked so good and he was going to have a good time playing it up tonight. Especially because he was going to be able to drink and say whatever because it was ‘acting’ to Y/N and she didn’t know he meant probably everything she was going to hear. He escorted her to the bar, settling behind her as he wrapped one arm around her waist and the other rested on her tummy. She has this little tummy that Harry found incredibly enticing. He wasn’t sure why but he loved it. Always wanted to touch and kiss on it when he thought more and more of it. 

“What do you want to drink, baby?” Harry spoke against her ear as the music was. A little loud. But his lips were close to her ear, making it feel a little more intimate.

Baby. God he really was starting off strong. Y/N couldn’t say she didn’t feel a little insecure as he put his hand on her tummy, always being cautious of it whenever she was wearing tight clothes. She knew it was actually normal and most girls had one, but something about being Harry Styles’ girlfriend made her feel like she shouldn’t have one. At least that’s what the media made her feel like. 

“Vodka cranberry, make it a double” She told him, giving him a little smirk. “I can handle alcohol.” Y/N teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek just because she wanted to. She couldn’t resist. Plus, she was playing it up for all the workers too. Her kiss left a mark on Harry’s cheek and Y/N giggled a bit, “it looks cute, but here...” she said and gently wiped it off his cheek so that it wouldn’t be viable in the photos they were most likely set to take. It was an event after all. She wasn’t sure what it was for but Jeff would let them know as soon as they found him.

Ordering the drinks, Harry took her hand and laced it with his, pulling her back against him and swayed them a little bit. She obviously was caught off guard but the giggle was confirmation that she was okay with it, him humming the song in her ear while the bartender made their drinks. 

“My girl can handle the drinks? I’d like to see that.” He teased. “Probably can drink me under that table, yeah? And sound well sexy doing it.” Oop. Admission of her voice being ‘sexy’ when she spoke it was accidental but he wasn’t going to take it back. It was. But now she had far more ammo against him. Y/N was obviously planning on doing just that, her evil little smirk up at him making him pout. “Oi, don’t tease me with it.” Harry whined. “I’m being nice tonight. Don’t be mean to me.” Irony, a little, but mostly because he didn’t want to be hard yet.

If only Harry knew how long Y/N had been waiting to hear him say things like that to her. If she hadn’t thought about it a thousand times before she’d definitely been thinking about it a thousand times more. Her heart was swelling, feeling extremely giddy just doing all these things with Harry. They were just talking and swaying. Tonight was going to be a long night. 

“Sexy hmm?” Y/N smirked, “are you being nice tonight?” She asked knowing full well that was false. Harry loved teasing, he teased his fans like crazy so surely he’d tease her even more. “You play nice and I’ll play nice. Is that a deal?” God, she wanted him to destroy her. That look in his eyes, she could already feel the tingles. When their drinks were ready Y/N said a small thank you to the bartender, taking her drink in her hand and looking at Harry with his. “Cheers, to playing nice.” She smiled at him, knowing that it was officially game on from here on out.

It was then Harry knew that they both were in for it, because he was going to give in to his wants of touching her and she was seemingly all for it which was equally as dangerous. Getting to be this way was going to make it so he would push past things he probably shouldn’t. He toasted with her, taking his drink and sipping all the while watching her over the glass. Y/N was a minx. A little flirty minx who was going to make him lose his mind. They had to go find Jeff, so he took her hand again and spun her so she was facing the right direction. 

“Let’s go find the boss.” 

They walked closely, Harry's arm back around Y/N’s waist as he held her to his body. She felt good pressed up against him. He loved it, if he was being honest. Wanted to feel her front pressed up against him so he could feel her tits. He needed a good feel by the end of the night. Needed it.

Y/N liked this. She liked this a lot. She swayed her hips a bit more now, wanting Harry to feel what they were capable of. It was like she had this new power in her that she didn’t have before, all because of Harry. The whole acting thing was definitely helping as well, she could just play this character and exaggerated version of herself and get away with it. Harry seemed to be loving it a little bit too much for his own liking, she could sense it. 

Jeff and Glenne were stood over in the vip section, chatting with a few other celebrity guests. Y/N forgot that that was also a thing. In her mind Harry wasn’t a celebrity, he had never been. He was just her idol that was hard to reach, the concept of him being a celebrity himself always weirder her out. Like whenever other people mentioned him she always forgot that they knew who he was. All eyes were on them. Literally everyone. Y/N kept herself calm and confident, acting as if she wasn’t phased by it at all though she was internally freaking out. 

“Hi!” Y/N smiled as she gave Jeff and Glenne a hug, “you guys look great!” The gang was together again.

“About time you showed up!” Jeff punched Harry lightly in the arm. He could sense something was changing. Harry held on a bit tighter to her, and wasn’t consciously doing it. 

“Oi, watch it. We just got some drinks. You know, little thing has Russian blood. Isn’t that right, Kiska?” Harry had googled a pet name’s in Russian and she was definitely a kitten, kiska, if you will. Coy and sly and utterly adorable, a little clumsy all in one. Pure and evil all the same. He could tell the Russian name caught her off guard. Oh, he was going to pay for that. She returned to his arms, and he decided to sit her on the bar stool and stand between her legs. For right now, this was good. He’d have a hand on her and look intimate while they talked.

Y/N looked at him with a shocked expression, raising her brow and giving him a look which said he would pay for that. He went home and looked it up, just to play with her emotions? Of course he did. The bastard. She took another sip of her drink and rolled her eyes, “Mister, just had to be fashionably late.” She told Jeff from her seat on the bar stool. 

She was still quite tall in these shoes, probably the same height she would be if she was standing up. Harry felt more comfortable like this, clearly liking having power over her. They would see about that. “Хотел меня удивить?” Y/N spoke, setting her hand on his chest before picking up his cross necklace. “I said, you wanted to surprise me?”  She smirked, looking him in the eyes. Two could play this game. The night just started and they were already pushing each other to the limit. They barely had any drinks in them but boy were they touchy feely. As a new couple should be. Y/N was positive that people were more shocked at the fact that Harry was showing any type of affection publicly. It was something he simply didn’t do.

It really wasn’t. Harry was the type to keep it private. But he liked being open and free with her. Even if it wasn’t ‘real’ as some would say— it sure as hell felt like it. He was thoroughly enjoying every bit, and it was translating well to people watching. He was positive that people were going to take photos, but he didn’t care. That was the point. Her leg catching over the back of his though, rubbing the back of his calf with her foot? She was giving it right back to him. And then the speaking in Russian, the one thing that really got him. 

“Da, Kiska.” Yes, Kitten. Harry grinned, liking her way of playing back with him. The drink in his hand was gone, so he called for another one. He was going to drink and use that as an excuse even though he was sober at the moment. Yep.

Y/N was pulling all the stops, assuming that nothing would actually come of it but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The leg move was something she figured would give her the upper hand, clearly showing everyone that he was her territory. Maybe they were doing too much? But she didn’t really care, she only cared about what he thought. 

“Осторожно.” Careful. She warned, knowing there was no translation needed. The tone and the word itself implied being careful, especially because he was playing with fire and he knew it. Y/N too had finished her drink, knowing Harry was about to go and get more. “Go, I’ll wait with Jeff.” She told him, wanting nothing more than to peck his lips in that moment but she couldn’t. 

The look Jeff had on his face said it all, a laugh coming from him. He and Glenne were in the same position she and Harry were just in, but they were a bit less.... horny. Y/N blushed, shaking her head a little because she knew they were coming off strong but she wasn’t acting. She never was acting with him.

Harry grumbled as she sent him off to get drinks. He was having fun with her. They worked very well with their chemistry and he felt utterly enamored with her. After a few drinks it was going to get worse. Would he basically dry fuck her against the bar? Perhaps. He felt like he could right now if given the go ahead. He got her a double shot and made his the same as well, going back to the table. They were all laughing about something and she hadn’t paid him much attention, taking the glass and spreading her legs a bit again so he could stand there. Honestly! A good response for when he came over. 

“I got you the same.” He spoke to her, voice a bit darker. “There are some people with their cells out taking photos too. I figured you knew though.” She was so good, learning to catch on quite easily. They could both feel cameras on them. Surely they’d make a pretty penny selling them or something. But after he finished that drink, he felt a slight buzz kick in. That made him more comfortable, holding on her waist and listening to her conversation. Wanting some of the attention back.

Y/N decided she’d play the game a bit more, making him work a bit to get the attention that she had been so good at giving him. Now that she knew her strengths she would play on them, forcing Harry to push harder than he was. She wanted to know what he wanted from her. The cool feeling of the glass between her legs and Harry’s looming figure sent a shock straight to her crotch, the slightly annoyed look in his eye making her smile smugly. 

“Thank you, ziya.” She cooed, knowing if he had searched for Russian pet names he would have found ‘bunny’ too. “Are saying you want to give them a show then?” Y/N teased as she wrapped her lips around the straw of his drink and took a sip. It wasn’t meant to be as sexual as it ended up being, she kept eye contact but cut it short because they really were being a bit too wild. 

The headlines would say, ‘Harry’s horny?’

Harry absolutely wanted to give them a show. Only the show he was thinking of was pulling her panties to the side and sliding into her cunt, taking her hard up against the bar. And he didn’t think that was quite what Jeff had meant by giving more affection. 

“Come.” He stood them up and brought them over to a plush couch without saying anything to Jeff. He knew Harry wanted Y/N alone right now, and he didn’t need to ask. Plus, it would help if they were seen all on their own together. Only he sat with her next to him, quite close. His arm wrapped around her and he basically curled around her form, the hand holding his drink putting it down after he downed it again. Ignoring the burning in his throat, he took his cool hands and brushed them against her neck. The touch seemed to affect her, a sharp breath coming from her. “You’re playing games.” He mumbled, using his fingers to tuck the hair from her neck. “Naughty.”

“And you aren’t?” Y/N asked boldly, finding his eyes as they snapped up to look at her. If there was such a thing as eye fucking they were definitely doing it in that moment. They couldn’t be sat here for too long, no, they definitely needed to go dance or mingle or do something that wasn't in each other's space like this. But it was so hot. He was so close to her, his touch, his words. It was all proving to be too much. The Harry she had always imagined was coming out, fulfilling a lot of her fantasies that he didn’t even know she had. This was something she sat thinking about in her bedroom, sitting there rubbing her clit to the idea of Harry being a tease in public.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t, baby.” Harry shrugged. He was definitely playing and teasing. He needed to get her to it for a second so he had an excuse to get close enough to leave a mark. It was closer than he had gotten pulling her closer in the chair. Her neck was so deliciously bare. And he was feeling possessive right now with the way or her men saw her. She was beautiful and a little naive towards the way other men had been ogling her tonight. “Was gonna suggest ...a mark.” He proposed. “Righhhhht here.” He ran his finger over the exposed flesh that would show his mark if she let him. “I think you’d like that.” He was pretty sure the easiest way to do it would be on the dance floor. “Can let people see you’ve been marked. Just gotta get up and go dance for a little bit. It’ll feel nice.” He was driving her absolutely mad and he knew it too. The way he spoke to her and the way he was touching her, it felt far more intimate than anything else she’d ever felt. This couldn’t be fake, she wouldn’t believe what he said if he tried to deny it. It wasn’t the alcohol either. 

“I think I’d like that too..” Y/N responded, feeling her voice go a little quite towards the end. It would feel nice, having his lips on her neck and marking her as his. The way he was asking for permission though she had already given him free reign to do whatever he wanted. It was all a bit much. “Come on.” She said, getting up and downing her drink before taking his hand and guiding him towards the dance floor. The dance floor was quite busy, now a good few hours into the event. They had arrived a bit late anyway so the party was in full swing. Y/N was quite a good dancer and she knew that. 

Harry wasn’t a bad dancer. Not necessarily skilled though, so he had a feeling Y/N would be doing the talking if they had to truly dance. At the moment though, it seemed as everyone was doing their own things, which felt good. He stayed towards the edge of the dance floor though, taking her hand and pulling her into him. His hand was on her waist and she looked up at him with those eyes he’d been dreaming of and he felt like a crazy person for not having had her already. She was the ideal person to have sex with, he thinks. The perfect mix of dirty and innocent and he hadn’t even found out how bad she could be. He had a feeling he would be finding out rather soon. 

“Come.” He pulled her to be pressed against his body, one hand on her and the other holding her own. “You’re going to kill me, sweetness.” He muttered quietly. “Swear to god. You’ve been so naughty. And you know it.”

Y/N squeaked a bit as he pulled her against him, relaxing into his touch after a few seconds. It still made her dizzy. The whole being a fan thing didn’t help, it really didn’t help. She was already into him and now he was just playing it up and she felt like she would pass out. She moved her hips to the beat, grinding on him without hesitation. What? If they were dancing, they were dancing like everyone else was. 

“I’ve only been as naughty as you.” She said as a matter of factly, “but you like that, don’t you?” The alcohol started to work in her system convincing her to just say what was on her mind. Four shots of vodka all hitting her system at once definitely did the trick. There was nothing more she wanted to do than kiss him. She just wanted to sit him down and make out with him. Straddle his hips, grab his hair and just kiss him. They’d been ‘dating’ for four months and no one had seen them publicly kiss yet, but Y/N decided she’d make it her mission for him to kiss her tonight. If not now then never.

“I can’t say I mind.” Harry breathed. God, Y/N was grinding on him. She knew how to move and she was going to get him all worked up. Whatever photos anyone took would potentially be very sexually charged because his hand did drop lower, holding her hip a bit tighter. Her grinding slowed a bit and he wanted to groan. Y/N looked very happy. Very pleased to be making him feel like this. There was no way that she’d give up now. It seemed to be her goal to push his buttons. “I’m just trying to figure out just how naughty you are.” He had his face closer, mouth approaching her ear. “Because I can tell what you’re doing. And I’ll let you know, it’ll work. You’ll get what you want from me. You’re pushing me just hard enough.”

Everything about their interaction screamed sexual tension. The rubber band would snap soon and Y/N wasn’t sure how she felt about it yet. She felt high on the feeling, knowing that all she needed was a little push and she’d cave. Self control was important right now because as much as they were enjoying this moment, they were technically working. 

“Mmm keep trying then.” She whispered in his ear, lips brushing against his lobe ever so slightly. Y/N wanted to move lower and kiss at his neck, but she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from doing more. Harry seemed to be on board and that was something that she would run with. “What do you think I’m doing?” Y/N asked, genuinely pushing every button that she could just for the sake of it. Maybe he’d actually do something. It was his image after all, if there was anything he wanted to do or didn’t want to do, she wanted to make sure that it was his decision. She didn’t want to over step.

“To get me to break.” Harry muttered. This time, he pressed a kiss under her ear. Here it goes. He knew that there was no going back now. Now when Y/N was rubbing up on him and he had her where he wanted her. “You want me to touch. And you’re getting that.” Harry gave another kiss a spot lower. “And I’m going to give you a mark on your neck. People are going to see it, yeah? See photos of me making it. And you know it’ll feel really good.” His mouth was rubbing against her skin with every word, getting lower so he could find the spot. “Trying to push me. Being a naughty girl and getting me to do things I shouldn’t.” Like, fucking her raw and senseless. Harry was coming in short when it came to thread holding his resistance. Y/N may know that now. However he had found the spot he wanted to mark— so he began to kiss on it, nipping at the skin. She absolutely melted into him, the sweet little gasp making his cock twitch in interest.

Y/N closed her eyes the second his teeth touched her neck. It was going to be hard to dance as if this had happened before, as if this wasn’t the first time they were interacting in a sexual way. People knew Harry was a horny bastard, talking about how his new album was about sex and being sad. They’d assume he already fucked her. She wishes that was true. 

“But it’s not my fault, is it?” Y/N nearly moaned, “you want it as badly as I do.” She added, feeling her breath hitch as he began to kiss and nip at the sensitive part of her neck. “Trust me, you haven’t seen me act naughty.” Y/N confirmed, a gasp following her statement. Y/N couldn’t take this. He was doing things to her that she never thought were possible, endorphins flooding her body and making her feel like she was floating. She had melted into him completely, still dancing with him because she couldn’t just not move. “Fuck that feels good..” She whispered in his ear, a small moan escaping just for him to hear.

Harry’s arm held her tighter, keeping her up in a good position as he continued his assault on her perfect neck. “What if I want to see that?” He asked. His fatal mistake because he knew far too well that Y/N would show him. She would do as he asked and kill him. That was the scary thing and he wanted it. He didn’t give her time to answer though, beginning to suck on her neck. It was light at first, but continued on. Getting a bit harder. The music covered it, but he heard a whimper come from her as he sucked over the sensitive skin and scraped over it lightly with his teeth. It felt too quick. He had given her one and didn’t want to make it truly hurt, so he moved to right under her ear and began to nip at it. “Mm. Maybe two. I think that’s a better idea.” He confirmed with her, feeling her nod hurriedly. His hands had her hips and pulled her up against him, and he knew that Y/N was feeling just as good about it as he was. “Shh, baby. Gonna make them think I have my hand under your dress.”

He gave Y/N the answer she had been waiting for. He had wanted to see her naughty side, wanted to see her unravel completely for him and show him just how bratty she could be. Y/N was sure he wanted it, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to do that here. Not when everyone was watching. He knew that as well. Y/N really has been deprived of touch and affection, simple love bites were practically making her fly off the rocker. Maybe it was because Harry was the one giving them to her, but she really needed him to stop or she would lose it. 

“If you don’t stop i’ll have to take you up on that offer.” Y/N told him, a whimper still present in her voice. She moved a hand up to his hair, tugging at it hard enough to get him to pull off her neck. “You have to stop, I’ll lose it..” She told him genuinely. It was a bit embarrassing to say, but she’d rather not make a fool of herself in public from a few hickeys.

Ha. Harry had won this round. Driving her crazy. The way she had said it though... saying she had wanted his hand under her dress... he was tempted. 

“M’sorry, Kiska.” He promised, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t sorry at all. He was thriving off of this energy and was dying to at least get his mouth on her. “If I could get away with my hand under your dress.. it would be there.” He could tell she wanted it too. The whimper of disappointment she let out. God, he wanted to destroy her. “What would you have done if I kept going?” They continue to dance, Harry's lips a bit damp with his own spit from kissing over and sucking on her neck. Their dancing had an even rhythm now, but he wanted to know what she thinks would have happened if he had continued on. Y/N was flushed and the marks were beginning to get darker. “What about it makes you crazy? Did you like the little bit of pain? How it’s a little tender? I want to know what you’re thinking.” He lifted a hand and ran his thumb over one of the marks and smirked when she jolted but her eyes were darker.

Y/N knew she had lost but she didn’t care, she really couldn’t take it. Her body was practically shaking with desire, never having been so turned on in her life. Y/N felt her like her body was on fire. Sure, their dancing was sexually charged and the neck kissing was as well, but to an outsider that’s all it was. They didn’t know what was actually happening. 

“I—I wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret.” Y/N told him, “it’d be too obvious, we’d have to leave.” That was true. Her knees would have buckled and she would have forced him to take them home. It wasn’t acting, they both knew that now. Would they speak on it again? No. “The pain.” She told him hesitantly, “I like the pain and the thrill of people watching.” There it was, the first little insight on how naughty she really was. He had asked to know after all. “It’s been a while— it’s a lot.” Y/N added wanting him to know that she really had been deprived of all the good things. “I think we need another drink.”

Harry was living for it. He truly was. Y/N was flustered and he was hot and bothered and now had 2 different marks on her neck. This was exactly the situation he originally had been trying to avoid but now was actively pursuing. 

“Two double shots.” When they’d got to the bar again, he had his hands on her. It was like he couldn’t let go. Standing behind her, he nuzzled his face into the side of her neck and kissed both of the marks before smirking and hiding again. He was being a tease and going to drive Y/N mad and he knew it but in all honesty, it was fun. Like a game. “Just don’t speak Russian. Cause then I’ll be forced to do things that aren’t very public appropriate and there’s tons of cameras everywhere.” 

Hopefully the drink would cool Y/N down, her head was spinning and Harry wasn’t helping one bit. Her breath hitched a little as he pressed kisses to the marks. “Dick.” She muttered, lifting her hand up to play with his hair. She scratched his scalp a little bit as he hid into her neck, humming softly to herself. “Maybe I should and not let you touch me.” Y/N teased, “Maybe you’ll play nice then.” Of course she wasn’t going to let that happen. She loved his touch far too much though she also loved the idea of teasing him and getting her revenge. She was still shook up from their little stunt earlier and wasn’t sure if she could handle anymore teasing. Especially if they went home and didn’t do anything. “Cause you can’t keep working me up like this and not fuck me sore.” Y/N whispered in his ear, being completely serious. If he kept this up and they went home and he did nothing she’d be extremely moody and pissy.

Harry was a little surprised with her crassness. Truly, he hadn’t expected her to come out and say it. That she wanted to be fucked hard. But god, he could do it. He could very well run in to her and just bend her over any surface and take her. Their chemistry was off the charts and he had a feeling other people could see it. He knew too well that it was wrong of him. But his body didn’t care. 

“Is that what you want?” He questioned, eyes blown with lust. She was giving him such a time. “Wow.. you seem so innocent, but you’re here talking about being fucked sore. Have you ever been properly fucked, Kiska?” His voice dropped to a growl, moving them closer to the bar. To any onlooker, it just looked like he was hiding his face against her but he was really giving his little fake lover a run for her money. “Been pounded away until you can’t breathe? Because you seem so sweet. But I can see now that you’re a dirty little girl and you’re a tease. Isn’t quite fair to me.” He scolded, his hand slipping to her thigh for a moment before he rested his chin on her shoulder and sent a charming smile to the bartender.

Y/N bit her lip, wanting so desperately to moan at how dirty and rough his voice sounded. “Yes, it’s what I want...” She told him honestly, deciding if she was going to spill any night it could be tonight where she could pretend she was more drunk than she was. She wasn’t anywhere near drunk right now though. The second he asked if she’d ever been properly fucked is when she lost it, knowing she needed him desperately and needed him now. But they had to be here until Jeff told them they could leave. “I haven’t, I’ve been so deprived.” She whimpered into his ear, “could you help me, daddy?” It was a stab in the dark seeing if he liked being called daddy, but she had seen a video of him on tour saying ‘yes daddy I will’ which proved to her that he may in fact enjoy being called daddy. But who really knew? She was about to find out.

Oh god. Oh god damn it. Harry was going to die. He was sure of it. She had tapped into one of his kinks that he was sure probably wasn’t a secret but... fuck. Y/N had sounded so pretty with her whimpers and then asking him to help her? That she hadn’t been fucked right? 

“Fuck.” Harry groaned against her skin. “I want to. Shit, baby. You’re dirty, I love it.” He pressed himself against her ass and let her feel his cock that was getting harder at her teasing. And the little minx pressed back against it. He couldn’t touch her here, but he could tease and talk to her with his cock against her ass and work her up. He pulled her closer and swayed them slightly, giving himself a bit of friction. “You wore this to tease me.” Harry's voice was deep, a little raspy. “Wore it to drive me crazy and you knew it would.”

Ha. Y/N won this round. Noticing how he was slowly starting to crack, slowly giving into her teasing and her pleading. The feeling of his semi hard cock rubbing against her was also a confirmation that she was doing something right, smirking to herself as she pushed back against him a little bit. 

“Of course I did.” She hummed, “thought it's about time I gave you no option but to give in. Those tops I wear didn’t quite do the trick, but this....” Y/N was very confident now that she knew it was working, needy, but confident. She just knew how to play up on the whiney neediness and the sexy neediness at the right times. Harry was lapping it up too. They both knew they’d go to his and have mind blowing sex, four months of pent up frustration sex. It was just a matter of when they would do so. Jeff really was the one who was going to give the go ahead and well, Harry was most likely going to keep teasing the both of them.

“Calculated little thing. Know how to get your way, hm.” Y/N was proving to be a force to be reckoned with. And Harry couldn’t even be upset over it because he was bringing this upon himself. He truly was. This woman was giving him a run for his damn money. “You said you liked the thrill of people watching, baby?” He asked. “S’it getting you off? All these people around and you’ve got my cock up against this gorgeous ass? And getting all wet inside those panties?” He knew she had to be soaked. “You’re probably so wet. A little bit sticky too, hm? Gonna start getting on your thighs. Wouldn’t be surprised now if you liked that. Liked getting all worked up and having no one know what I’m telling you.”

Y/N rubbed back against him anytime she felt like she wanted to moan, gripping at his arm that was around her waist. God she could kill him but she wasn’t going to let him get the best of her, she could control herself for a little while longer. If it was promising enough. 

“You have no idea.” She simply responded, knowing it answered all of the above. Yes, it did thrill her, it did get her off, it was getting her wet inside her panties and he had no idea just how much. If he really wanted to, he could have a feel, she was sure if he peeled off her underwear there would even be a trail of wetness that pulled with it like a strand of spit. Yes, she was that fucking wet. “You better fuck me real good tonight, daddy... Я с ума сойду у..” She whispered in his ear, adding the ‘or I’ll lose my mind’ in Russian just for added effect. That should do the trick.

“Fuck..” Harry pressed her up against the bar. it was crowded enough that he could sneak a hand between her thighs, and as soon as he got under the dress he could feel the soaked and sticky panties. “My fucking god... you’re really soaked through.” He hissed, kissing her cheek a few times and smiled down at her. Harry pressed his fingers harder against her and his arm around her waist tightened, her knees weakening in his hold. Finding her clit, he pressed and rubbed a few times, sighing in pleasure when her hips bucked a little bit. Luckily there were people behind them talking, and no one was paying attention. His head was hidden and it was hard to tell who ended and who began. “Soaked little princess. Poor pussy... needs some attention.” He purred, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. “I shouldn’t be touching you at all, Kiska. Not at all. But you’ve been teasing me, and talking to me in that sexy little voice, you’re killing me.”

Y/N swore she stopped breathing, heart skipped a beat. Harry Styles was touching her fucking pussy. How on earth did she end up here? Y/N almost lost it, nearly moaned out loud with the poor bartender standing right there. Y/N sipped on her drink, using it to stifle the moans and whimpers that were threatening to escape. Her knees buckled, losing balance as his fingers started working on her clit through her panties. She sighed in pleasure, playing it off as if she was just sighing but really she was dying. “Please...” She begged, biting down on her lip, “you’re killing me.” If he was going to keep doing this she would full on cum in public and she wasn’t exactly ready for that. She wasn’t sure if she could hide that, holy fuck it was already overwhelming. She wished they were alone. “Funny.... you touched my clit before kissing me.”

“Mm. I know that once I start m’not gonna stop.” And that was the truth. The man knew that he would get one taste of her cherry mouth? He would want to sip on it for a while. And plus... it was less obvious. But he took his fingers away, bringing them to his mouth and sucking the slick arousal off. It was sweet. Beautiful. The best he had ever tasted— and Harry did like to eat pussy, so that was saying a lot. 

“What’s stopping you? It will feel good.” Y/N repeated his words from earlier in the night, hoping he’d listen. She thought she’d pass out just then, a shiver ran down her spine at the sight of him sucking her wetness of his fingers. The man really wanted to end her didn’t he? The look of pure enjoyment on his face, it should be illegal. 

“So good. But... turn.” He instructed, cupping the side of her face with the clean hand. “You’re being very good now. So..” Harry murmured, leaning down and connecting their lips. And he swore, he completely lost his mind. It was like that instant connection just made sense. Being like this with her, the kiss, it had him feeling. Truly. He was incredibly shocked but he continued the kiss. It wasn’t too dirty— it was relatively soft considering he was just rubbing her cunt moments ago. But it was delicious.

Good god. Y/N’d never felt this before. A true surge of electricity bolted through her, the kiss passionate but not too off putting. It was just a kiss two people that really liked each other would share. Y/N knew people were taking photos, it was as if she could feel people’s eyes on them. The gasps from around them also sort of helped. She just let one of her hands wrap around his wrist while the other gripped onto the lapel of his jacket. She could get lost doing this all day. Y/N hoped they would get to do this freely from now on, she wasn’t sure she could ever go without kissing him again.

Harry couldn’t care less about the people taking photos. His hands held her soft little face and their lips pulled apart only for him to go back— this time for tiny little pecks to make her giggle. It was cute. He wanted her to feel that way when he kissed her. 

Y/N did giggle at the pecks that he left on her lips, scrunching her nose a little bit because she just couldn’t believe that she was in fact kissing Harry Styles. This was truly a dream come true, unfortunately she’d sound like a nutter if she told him that. 

“S’good.” Harry said when he pulled apart for real, placing one last kiss to her forehead. “Want to leave, Kiska?” Harry wanted to get her alone. Get her in his damn lap. The moment the car pulled away from the club he would have his hand back up her dress. He was positive Y/N knew the same. He needed to get inside of her. Have this one night. Maybe it would get his need for her out of his system. Sure— he didn’t think so, but he was hoping so that his heart wouldn’t be in danger. He didn’t realize his heart was already right in the palm of her hand and she had the power to crush it into powder.

“Can we?” Y/N asked softly, eyes wide and soft. Ready to submit and she knew that he knew. Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him for a moment before finishing her drink and walking with him towards where Jeff was to bid him and Glenne a good night. They probably would get scolded on a normal night, but they had made quite the show. They did more than enough, too enamored with each other to even think to speak to anyone else. Jeff knew that they were both very much into each other and laughed because they were both in denial. Y/N less so.

“Gonna have a lot of cameras outside. Just be a good girl for me, yeah? Gotta behave until we pull away.” Harry spoke to her as he helped her with her jacket, moving her hair out of the way. It was dumb to be so proud of a mark on her neck, but he had been aware of how guys looked at her. Aware that she wasn’t. And then people would know, they’d be so aware that Y/N was his pretty girl. Confirm that relationship. Opening the door, he had a tight grip on her waist as he led her out of the club. The questions were yelled out but he focused on getting her to the car. It took a minute, but he opened the back of the door and picked her up with her up by the waist once again. She moved over, and Harry got in behind her. 

“My place, please.” He called to the driver before shutting the partition. Once it was closed, and they began to drive away? Harry turned right back to her. “You... make me lose control.” He growled, pulling her into his lap. Her hips were bigger and there was that tiny little belly that he liked, but his hands gravitated towards her ass. Gripping it tightly with one hand, the other came up to her throat. Her gasp had him twitching in his pants. Y/N seemed to love it.

Y/N squeaked as he pulled her into his lap, her dress riding up significantly. She set her hands on his shoulders to stabilize herself, moving them down to his chest once she felt comfortable. The hand on her throat though, that was the best surprise of the night. 

“Mmm.” She whimpered, looking down at him with a smile. Y/N was a kinky bitch. No man had ever really understood that. She was never able to play up her sexuality in bed, never able to truly let loose and do whatever she wanted because the guys never knew how to properly dominate her. But Harry knew, she knew he would. “That’s a good thing.” She teased, “need to loosen up, rockstar.” 

Harry was happy. She was taking to it easily, and that only added to his arousal. Y/N was what he wanted in bed. Seemingly submissive but a little bit of a brat. So far she had been lippy but he loved it. 

“Do I?” He murmured. “I can think of a few ways to help me relax.” His mouth moves forward to her chest, kissing the swells of her tits. “These... these fucking tits.” It was a hiss, licking over between them before he switched to the other side. “You know how much I love them.” He needed to have a good taste. It was necessary. “And you’ve got them up on display, wanting for me to touch them, hm?” He questioned. “Do you know how many times I’ve been thinking about them covered in cum? Hm?”

“You like them, don’t you daddy?” Y/N cooed, watching as he went to kiss at her soft pillowy breasts. “Had them out just for you...” She added because she really did. No one else mattered right now. But, he’d.... thought about her tits? His cum on her tits? Multiple times? She must be dreaming. Sure, she’s been masturbating to the thought of him since she was 13, but to think he was jerking off to the thought of her? It made her moan out loud. “It’d look so pretty.”

“You... are absolutely sinful.” Harry’s mouth closed in near her covered nipple, and looked up at her. “Mmm. Had them out for me? What a great, sweet girl.” Harry's head was going into overdrive because he wanted to be touching any inch he could of her. Wanted to touch and lick her body over and over again and drive his cock in deep. “Said that you’ve never been fucked properly before... s’so sad, baby. Isn’t it? Need to have a good cock inside of you. Do you like it rough?” He questioned, looking up at her honey eyes. “Like it hard? Or do you want it soft?” He wanted to make it good for both of them, so he asked the question even though he was fairly certain of the answer.

“Only for you...” She told him, knowing she had never been this sinful in her life. Only in her mind in the fantasies that he lived in. Y/N let out a moan, nodding her head at his question. “N—no never...” She answered honestly, thinking about how she liked it. She liked it rough but liked it soft as well, figuring that whatever it was Harry decided to do she’d love it because it was Harry and his glorious cock that she felt bulking up against her crotch. 

Y/N loved how vocal he was, how he talked to her through every little action. It’s almost as if he wanted her to fumble as he pleasured her. Y/N didn’t mind though, she thought she sounded quite hot when she was being pleasured. Her previous encounters loved phone sex with her. Her hand went to the back of his head, tugging at his hair like she knew he liked as his plump strawberry lips wrapped around her nipple. He looked so fucking pretty like that. 

“I like it rough mostly, but some soft bits are nice... mix it up.” She told him, “just use me... I like it deep. I want to feel you in my belly.”

His sweet girl. This innocent thing was asking Harry to use her. She was dirty in ways that he knew a lot of other people weren’t. Sure, they talked a good game but when it came down to it, they couldn’t take it. But Y/N? She was sitting in his lap with his hand on her throat and ass and asked him to use her. That, was exactly what she wanted. He could tell by her face. That was the hottest thing. She wanted to be his baby, but his baby slut. He loved it. Y/N was surprising him at every turn. Sure, he had expected a little kinky from how she had been acting but... she turned around and used daddy, had let him play with her cunt under a bar, all of it and that was hot. 

“Deep in that precious belly, hm? Bury myself in your little cunt and make you take it, s’that it, my girl?” Harry kept calling her his. Because in the back of his mind, she was. Y/N had been his since that first day, even though he would keep denying it.

“Yes, please, daddy...” Y/N nodded in response, truly looking so bloody happy to be in this position. They’d be at his soon and she would get her relief soon enough. She felt like she had proven herself to be a good girl and that he wouldn’t tease her as much when they got inside. “Told you I was naughty...” Y/N reminded him, “but it’s just the way you like it.” She smirked and moved her hips forward to add a little pressure to his cock. “And I guarantee I’m the naughtiest you’ll ever have.” It was a bold statement but she was positive it was true. All she wanted was for him to be pleased.

Y/N felt the car come to a stop and was slightly upset that their little car journey was over, but even more excited to get inside and see what exactly he had planned for the two of them. Y/N loved how dominant Harry had proven to be, thoroughly enjoying pleasuring her as well as himself. She was positive she’d never feel this amazing in her life.

Harry was looking forward to seeing Y/N to ruin him. He wanted to make her feel good but he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to be able to get this out of his head every time he saw her. 

Grabbing her little bag, he tipped the driver handsomely before scrambling into the house. He needed this and wanted it and didn’t want to waste a single damn second. Y/N was eager too, Harry snickering as she basically tugged him up to his front door. They couldn’t do anything out here— but as soon as he got inside? 

He slammed the door shut and pressed her against it, mouth on hers yet again again. Harry found that it was one of his new favorite places. The taste and the warm feeling... he loved it so much. Her tongue ran across his lips and into his mouth and he was hooked. Shoving their jackets off, he grabbed hold of her and lifted her with ease, legs wrapping around his waist. 

“Gonna wreck you, baby. Make you cum so hard that you can’t fucking breathe.” He hadn’t tried overstimulation before but he just as well may with her. She overwhelmed him quite a bit.

Y/N groaned against his mouth, eagerly moving to push his jacket off of him just as he pushed hers off. Her arms immediately wrapped around his shoulders as he lifted her, the kiss only becoming that much more intense when his hands landed on her ass. She swore it was one of her favorite feelings. 

“Ugh, yes, daddy PLEASE!” She moaned out, desperate to get this dress off and to get him naked as well. Y/N only had a small thong underneath, having forgone a bra for the sake of the dress. It was tight enough that it kept them in place. Her dream was coming to life and she would make damn sure to make the best of it. Y/N’s moved to kiss from the corner of his mouth to his jawline, finding a soft spot right below his jawline on his neck. She decided to return the favor from earlier, living a hickey of her own there. Hopefully he didn’t mind. “Can’t wait for you to fill me..” she whispered in his ear. “Я хочу тебя.” A simple, I want you in Russian just to get him going. “I want you so bad..”

It was the Russian that had Harry’s blood hot. He wanted to hear her speak it all the time. What if they had kids? She could teach them— Wait. 

Fuck. That was a weird fucking thought and he had to shake himself out of it. There wouldn’t be kids. The hell was wrong with him? It had to be the power of her pussy— but he hadn’t even been inside yet. 

“Gotta get you naked.” Harry needed her naked and wet and ready for him. That was the goal, anyways. To have this girl spread out and eager to be taking his cock. Y/N was telling him that she couldn’t wait so he held her to him, walking towards his room. They wouldn’t be leaving that bed, unless it was to fuck against a wall or in the bathroom. His shoes were kicked off as he stepped in, nearly blind because they were kissing again and Y/Ns hands were all over his hair,  it was amazing. Truly. His cock ached and was begging to be inside of her but every second of this was incredible to him.

Once Harry placed her on the bed Y/N sat up, unzipping her dress and lifting it up above her head quickly, but careful as to not rip it. She really liked that dress. It was at this point that Y/N was eye level with his cock, allowing her hands to travel to the loops in his pants, pulling him closer to her. 

“Fuck me...” She mumbled, one of her hands palming over his aching cock. She unzipped them and pulled ever so slightly until they pooled at his ankles, eyes still very much focused on his cock. Y/N looked up at him, a devilish look in her eyes as she wanted for some direction. She admittedly got distracted but it was because this was the cock she had been dreaming about, the cock she imagined filling her mouth and her cunt and even her ass. “You’re so big daddy, so handsome...” She commented, pressing a kiss to his clothes cock and smiling to herself. She was pushing buttons.

There was something so incredibly hot to Harry about her sitting on his bed, eye level with his cock. She had just instinctually gone to it, kissing on it... that was the hottest thing. Being so genuinely into him and wanting to touch. There had been many a time now these past few months and he had thought about this view. However now he was in full view of her tits and her messy hair, her looking up with those eyes at him. He was a mess. 

“Yeah? Thank you, baby.” He murmured. “Why don’t you take it out, hm... suck a little bit. And then I want to have my turn.” He was thirsting for her cunt. Literally. He just wanted to kiss and suck and lick her sweet pussy until she came over and over again. He wanted her to feel how good it was to have her cunt properly worshipped. Y/N was a good girl, but she was so bad. He had a feeling she would utterly love that.

Y/N smiled as he gave her the go ahead, tugging on his shirt and muttering a small “off” because she wanted to see his perfectly toned torso and chest. Harry was really her version of a perfect man, everything about him made her crazy and she couldn’t stop herself. Not now, not anymore. This was raw and real. Y/N gently pulled his cock out from his boxer briefs, pushing them down all the way while she leaned in and spat all over his cock. Y/N locked her eyes with his, letting the spit travel down his cock while she went to lick from the base to the top. She let her hand spread the sloppy mess that she made, pumping at the base while her lips wrapped around the lip and began sucking. 

The amount of times she had thought about this, the amount of times he imagined hearing him moan for her and pull her hair. Just feeling the weight of his cock on her tongue, it was everything she desired. Y/N took more of him into her mouth once she felt comfortable, moaning against him a bit because she knew it would feel good.

Holy shit. Harry had expected her to be eager, a little dirty— but she may be right. It’s probably that Y/N was going to be the dirtiest girl he’s ever been with. It was evident by how she spit on his cock, looking right up at him as she made a mess. Something Harry fucking loved. Other partners didn’t love a mess but he did. In his opinion, it was hotter. More passionate. A good spit or cum all over was good. Arousing. And Y/N was on her knees, licking over his cock and pumping her hand at the bottom. Harry was big, but Y/N took it like a fucking champion. His hand gathered her hair in his fist. Gently yanking on it to show he had control before allowing her to continue. And then she began to moan with his cock in her mouth, bobbing her head up and down— it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. 

“God, yes. Keep sucking my cock like that— fucccck. That’s a girl.” He praised, watching her closely. “Messy little girl. You like it messy, huh? Like getting daddy’s cock all wet? Good job. Doing just what I asked.”

Y/N was determined and dedicated to making him feel good, making it very clear with the way she was working her mouth over his cock like he was a lollipop of sorts. She hummed in response, not wanting to pull off because he seemed to really like what she was doing. Y/N kept eye contact as she tried to take more and more of him into her mouth, giving him full control over her with his hand in her hair. She did say she wanted him to use her so it really was free reign. They had all night to play around with each other, but she could already tell she had left a damp spot on his bed with how increasingly wet she was getting from watching him. The way his face contorted in pleasure, his gritty voice. She was thoroughly enjoying every second and she wouldn’t stop unless he told her to.

Harry was in love with her mouth. He wanted it around him 24/7. Harry was also an incredibly sexual person with a filthy, kinky mind. “Can imagine you warming my cock just like this while I take some calls. Would be very nice, wouldn’t it, Y/N?” He grabbed her hair tighter and began to pump in and out of her mouth. When he first met her he hadn’t ever imagined actually being able to fuck her mouth. But the girl gave over control, looking up with watery eyes as he took over. She could handle a little deeper. So he did just that, hissing when her throat tightened a bit around his Fock before pulling out. She sputtered but then— the slut whined. “Even after gagging on my cock, you’re still whining to have it back in your mouth? Fuck. You’re a cockslut, Baby. Can't believe this.” He gave it back and immediately had that suction again, her every suck in time with how he thrusted into the mouth. Every so often he would get just deep enough to make her gag and repeated the process, watching as she began to drool on him. “Shit— so messy. Such a messy little whore. Drool all over your chin and you’re still eager for my cock.” He was in awe. Y/N was something he had dreamed of and she only kept getting better.

Y/N felt smug. Harry was so shocked every time she whined for his cock and she wondered what I’m earth those other girls were doing. To Y/N, it wasn’t good sex unless she was fully letting go and doing everything her heart desired to and with her partner. Y/N pulled off of him hesitantly, licking up and down his cock as she caught her breath and then spoke. 

“Can I make you cum like this daddy?” Her voice low and hoarse, “think you’ll be able to go again if I do?” She asked, just wanting to make sure though she was positive he would. Harry seemed like a kinky bastard and she wanted to make him cum as many times as she possibly could tonight. Her pussy was fucking aching. She was practically bouncing against the bed trying to get some friction. She whined a little bit, not wanting to full on ask because she was too busy servicing his cock, but she wanted it... bad.

“Yes— yeah, I can cum again for you.” Harry could. If it was Y/N? He knew that he’d be able to give her anything she wanted as long as she gave him those eyes and that little pout. He was so whipped already and he was positive that she was going to turn his life upside down. It was too late to stop it. “Go ahead. Make me cum, then.” He coaxed. “Want it in your mouth and on your tits. I know you can do that for me. You’ve been such a slutty girl, and you’ll like being covered in daddy’s cum.” 

That seemed to set Y/N off. Her mouth was on his cock and sucking hard, hand going quickly over it. Harry’s mouth opened and a groan left him, overtaken with pleasure. It was no doubt he was going to cum quickly. It had been a while since he had fucked anyone and Y/N had some spell over him. He didn’t have to say much else, Y/N returned her mouth on to him and let her hand work the rest that she couldn’t reach. She remembered all the spots that set Harry off and paid close attention to them, sucking harder and moving at a quicker pace than before. Y/N moaned against him, as if begging him to cum for her. She wanted to taste him, wanted to see him in that wonderful state of bliss. She had already moved past thinking that she wasn’t attractive to him, clearly she was doing things to him and it boosted her ego far more than should be allowed. When she felt his muscles start to tighten she continued her actions, moaning against him and keeping at her actions waiting for him to blow his load. It was glorious. The sound that came from his mouth, the way he filled her mouth. She pulled off of him and let some drip down her chin, making him blow the rest of her load on her chest. 

“That’s it daddy, cum all over me..”

Harry hadn't cum that hard in a long time. Maybe ever because his toes felt a little numb, his mouth open and his cock actually throbbing with the arousal. His load had to have been huge, considering he hadn’t cum like this in a long time. She let half of it in her mouth, and then opened it and let it drool down her chin— which was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. Her hand continued to work his cock as he covered her tits in ribbons of cum. There was nothing quite like the sight of her covered in it. Once he had calmed slightly, he lifted her up and tilted her head back, immediately going forward her mouth. Some guys refused to kiss their significant others when they’d gone down on them— but the messy state of her mouth had him beyond horny. Y/N responder with a mewl and Harry's hand went directly to her pussy. 

“Down on the bed.” The mix of her spit and cum strung between both of their lips. “Spread your thighs. I want to lick you out.”

Y/N moaned against his mouth, eagerly moving back on to the bed. She had been waiting for him to touch her like this since the beginning of the night. She had a little taste of it at the bar but this? This was a whole other animal she swore she was absolutely not ready for. She was extremely sensitive to touch, it had been a really long time since anyone had slept with her and she truly forgot what it felt like. His warm ring clad hands on her caused goosebumps to spread all over her body, she was very much aroused. Harry nestled himself in between her legs, her heart pounding so hard she swore it would fly out of her chest. He hadn’t even done anything and she was already whimpering, pussy throbbing just from the sight. When you’ve been thinking about it for as long as she had, you would receive similar reactions. She convinced herself that she psychologically wired her brain to associate Harry with orgasms and that’s why it was affecting her like this.

Harry groaned. She had soaked through the thong. It was nearly see through, the pink tiny thing. He decided to lick right over it as a tease, and lottle Y/N jolted on the bed. He took hold of her by the apex of her thighs and held her down, swiping his tongue over the sticky fabric again. 

“Hm.. what have we got?” He purred up at her. “A wet little pussy, huh?” He held her body to the bed, moving one arm now to stroke over her tummy. He moved up and kissed over her mound, over to her belly button and covered the surrounding areas with kisses. “Love this.” He had an attraction to it that he couldn’t quite explain. He just thrives off of seeing it. And now he would have to remember every single time to give it some love. But right now he needed some pussy, and that’s what he was going to get. He began to peel the panties off, growling in pleasure when he sat they were quite literally stuck to her. Fuck. He had done that, and he was proud of it. Her inner thighs were wet too, and Harry felt the heat of his body rise even more. “Christ, pet. You’re so wet...” He whispered. “Soaked through the panties... look at this. They’re stuck to you.” He said in awe. He gently peeled it back further, watching the arousal string on them. He was keeping these. “These are mine.” He took them and placed them on his night stand before taking a look. He didn’t waste much more time before leaning down, and taking one broad, long lick.

Y/N blushed, heat rushing to her face and chest as he observed her body. She was expecting to feel shy and embarrassed, but it was quite the opposite really. It was something she had always worried about, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was absolutely fucking perfect. A small giggle left her mouth at his astonishment, not realizing just how wet she actually was. 

“Oh my god.” She moved her hands to cover her face, shaking her head before moving her hands so she could sit up a bit and lean on her elbows to watch him. She wasn’t sure how long that would last but she would try. The moan that left her was pornographic. Her whole body twitched at the feeling, pleasure spreading through her body already. She really was sensitive. “Harry..” She whimpered, looking down at him and seeing his darker green eyes flash up to look at her. “That feels... so good.”

Harry knew now that he was going to be obsessed with her pussy. Not only did it taste amazing but it felt so good on his tongue. Warm and soft, he didn’t mind the slick all over his chin as he ran his tongue up and down the little slit. Y/N was giving him everything. 

“So sweet, princess. Taste so fucking good.” He was sure he was going to end up down here again tonight. He wanted it more than once and truly did have this affinity for her pussy. His tongue swiped up, running flat over her clit a few times. Swollen, he decided to rub his tongue around it in circles, which had her squeaking and moving her hips. To which he held her down again. He would decided when she could fuck his face.

Y/N tried closing her eyes thinking that maybe it would be less intense if she couldn’t see him but she was so so wrong. Her senses heightened and she swore she could feel every single cell in her body vibrate. He wasn’t even doing anything that special, but he had teased the fuck out of her to the point that anything would set her off. Y/N leaned back once again, allowing one of her hands to move to his hair while the other gripped at his blanket. He looked so happy to be nuzzled between her thighs, his eyes closed and invested in making her feel good. 

“Ah fuck—“ Y/N’s voice went a few octaves higher, those circular motions always did her in. He was still going relatively slow and Y/N just tried to bite her moans back. It was embarrassing all the sounds she was letting out, but she truly had never had a guy pay this much attention to her pussy. She appreciated it so damn much. “Is there anything you can’t do? Fuck—” She whined, feeling like he was just good at everything he did. This man had no flaws in her book, the only problem was his terrible communication skills, but she wasn’t too fussed about that when his face nuzzled in her pussy.

Appreciating the compliment, Harry hummed against her and gave a bit of vibration to her. He had always enjoyed eating pussy, don’t get him wrong. But Y/N was on a whole other level. Reacting to every flick of his tongue, she was his favorite. He pulled away for a moment, spitting over her and going back to spread it around her with his tongue. He was going to blow her mind and he was ready to have her cumming all over his mouth and then his cock. It was a plan to have Y/N soak him and his bed. The next move was his favorite. Wrapping his lips around her clit, and sucking. Just slightly at first, but it was an immediate reaction. Letting out some curses, the grip on his hair tighter, he had a rhythmic and slow way about it, sucking over and over again on the little thing.

“Holy shit— fuck me—” Y/N cursed, gripping tighter on the bed sheets and his hair. Her breathing was slowly starting to pick up as the knot began to tighten in her stomach. Harry has clearly licked out plenty of pussies in his and enjoyed it. She always imagined him to be obsessed with it, but the way he treated hers made her feel like a princess. “S—so good...” Y/N whimpered, knowing that it would only get more intense from here. “Ещё Harry, пожалуйста!” More Harry, please! Her hips unintentionally moved up against his mouth once again, pleading for more in Russian. Maybe he would understand, maybe he wouldn’t, but she knew it was a big turn on for him so she thought maybe he’d do it naturally. There was only one way to find out. Her pussy throbbed against his tongue, her hole begging to be filled. “Please, fuck me... please...” Y/N begged, her voice sounding whiny and desperate. She desperately wanted to feel what it was like to have him fuck her. Properly Fuck her. Make her scream so loud she lost her damn voice.

“Mm. Patient. Daddy’s having fun.” Harry scolded, but dipped his fingers through the cum on her chest before going back to her clit. Using the dirty fingers, he began to slide one of them inside of her. There was something about the thought of his cum inside of her cunt that had Harry wanting more and more of it. He was nearly fucking nursing on her clit, humming happily as her cunt clenched hard around his finger, and he added the second. There was a high noise coming from Y/N, trying to lift her hips but he was doing a good job keeping her down. He wanted to make her cum like this. He was steady, thrusting the two fingers in and out of her soft pussy while defiling her with his cum. Every so often he would go up and scoop up a little more, sliding it back inside of her. It’s where it belonged in his mind. Y/N’s clit throbbed against his tongue, and his fingers could feel how badly she wanted to be fucked. Trying to milk them like she would be on his cock— god, he was going to be a mess as soon as he was inside of her. He was now. Nuzzling against her cunt and sucking harder against her clit, he wanted her to lose her mind

Y/N’s head was spinning. She’d never experienced pleasure like this and she knew for a fact it was all that teasing that did her in. For about three hours she was being edged on, touched, and teased. Even now he wasn’t doing enough to make her properly cum. No, this was all still build up. Whimpers and whines continued to escape her lips as she tried to stay still and relaxed, but it became harder and harder to do as he started pumping cum covered fingers inside of her. God, he was filthy, she loved it. A pussy full of Harry Styles’ cum? A dream. She’d have his fucking baby now if he asked, but frankly she was on the pill. It was surprisingly part of the contract because apparently even Jeff knew Harry liked to fuck raw. 

“Please daddy, please let me cum...” Y/N pleaded, the despair present in her voice. “I’ve been so good for you, p—please daddy it hurts!” She whimpered, despite thoroughly enjoying the pain. It was worse than having an itch you couldn’t scratch. “I want your cock, pretty please!”

“Hm. I want you to cum for me first, baby. Before you can have my cock, I want a mess on my face.” Harry was desperate for it actually. He wanted it all over him and wanted to feel her cum on his fingers. Which he did absolutely begin to thrust in and out of her cunt even faster. It was so hot. Y/N was a moaning mess, literally begging for his cock while he finger fucked her. He could hear how wet she was with every thrust of his fingers, and she was rolling her hips as Harry sucked on her clit over and over again, trying to coax her into orgasm. Y/N felt good. She felt like she was meant to be on his tongue, like his fingers even felt perfectly aligned with her hips, and he knew that she was close. “Cmon baby. Let go for me. I know you want to cum for daddy.”

Y/N whined at his response, huffing and whining as he picked up speed. “Oh fuck— daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!” It didn’t take long for him to find the perfect rhythm and she swore all the breath left out of her lungs. “Oh my god!” The noise she let out was somewhere between a moan and a scream, her orgasm ripping through her. It was a sight to see. Her back arched off of her bed and legs shook uncontrollably, eyes rolling back from the sheer amount of pleasure that was coursing through her body. “Oh daddy..” She breathed heavily, a smile spreading across her face. She had never felt so good in her life. Y/N tugged I’m his hair, begging him to come up for a kiss. She needed it. She had fallen in love. There was no question about it. After knowing what she knew about him and getting to know him over these four months she had decided that she was in fact in love. She’d never tell.

----

It was 3 rounds. 3 rounds of hot and heavy and rough sex unlike anything else he had ever done. Harry knew sex wouldn’t ever be the same again. Y/N had ruined him. Completely and utterly ruined his ass and he couldn’t even be mad yet. Y/N was in his arms, underneath the covers. His hand stroked her hair as they spoke quietly about random things. He was relaxed and soft right now and Y/N had him in the perfect situation to get him to talk. Pillow talk was something he was good at. It's easier to be vulnerable when he was sexed out. 

Y/N was messy but in a sexy way. Her hair wild and lips beyond swollen. They’d both need chapstick in the morning, but it was worth it. Her fingers played on his chest and traced his tattoos. Leg over his hip, snuggled right into him. It was unreal. The feeling of euphoria she had just experienced. Three whole rounds of incredible sex that definitely blew everyone else out of the water. She never thought she could connect with anyone like that, but if it would be anyone, it would be Harry. She pressed soft kisses to his warm and somewhat sweaty skin, tracing his tattoos that were still visible in the moonlight that came through the windows of Harry’s room. They never really spoke when they were alone and in private together, she figured now was probably a good time to talk. 

“What are you thinking about right now?” Y/N asked softly, genuinely curious because she had no idea what to think. She knew that she hadn’t been acting all night and that what they just shared was special, but what did that mean for them? Honestly, it was all I’m Harry’s hands.

“Well...” Harry was quiet, finger tangled in her hair. “I’m thinking about how that was really good. And how your legs are going to feel like jello tomorrow.” He let out a gentle laugh. Y/N was very, very good at riding. And taking spankings. “But mainly about how good that was. Never seen someone who was willing to go through it… like actually be as kinky as they said.” It was an upheld promise and it meant a lot to him, even if the premise was kind of dumb in hindsight. “A lot of people talk up a good game but when it comes to fulfilling promises or doing things they’re asked... it’s always bullshit. Overcompensating. It’s annoying.” He ran his hand over her arm. Y/N had given him a new point of view. “Especially in entertainment. People promise a lot and rarely deliver at all. They’ll introduce you to someone or they’ll call you, or they’re very good at x y z and end up being shit. It’s just hard. Everyone in this industry likes to talk big games. I know it’s a little dumb but, was nice to see someone who lived up to their talk. Also... someone who didn’t mind getting their mouth spit into.”

Y/N giggled are his comments, listening closely as he spoke. Lucky for her, his voice was nice and slow, very relaxing and comforting. She kept going back to the thought of her in her room thinking about doing this one day and here she was. This was the most he had ever opened up to her and she definitely wasn’t taking it for granted. It was a special moment, it felt like a breakthrough. Her heart was swelling three times its original sizes, she swore it. 

“It’s not dumb, it makes sense.” Y/N spoke softly, still tracing his tattoos as a form of soothing him. She laughed at his last comment, taking a second to think before speaking. “I know you were a bit apprehensive about letting me into your life, and maybe you still are, but I do appreciate all the time we get to spend together.” Y/N spoke I’m a small voice, almost scared he’d reject her kindness because he usually did. “You’re a really great guy, Harry.” It was like word vomit, she just had to tell him how she felt without scaring him. Tell him that she liked him, a lot.

Harry’s heart tugged hard. Fuck. He hated that he had to be so distant to her. It was better than the beginning but he knew he was getting too close. Tonight he thought he was going to let himself live in the fantasy world he wanted to be in. 

“Thank you.” He smiled at her. God, she was stunning. He could hear the nerves in her voice and he wasn’t going to be the one to crush her right now. He’d wait at least until the morning to remind her that they shouldn’t be doing this and that it was his fault but he couldn’t. Fuck, even the thought made him want to vomit. this felt so right. Y/N was what he wanted but it was that part of him that was so desperately terrified to get close to people that kept speaking from the back of the head that got him every time. “You are too. Far too good.” Realistically he knew Y/N was good, but that deep rooted fear of being used had him holding on to the reins and not willing to let go of his stupid thought that perhaps she just wanted to be famous. There had been no signs. Nothing. Not promoting her bakery any more than normal, not talking to the media. But he was still hesitant. “You’re very nice to me, Y/N. I know sometimes I don’t deserve it but I appreciate it.”

Y/N closed her eyes, listening to his heart beat relax. She had heard it shift, knowing something must have made him nervous and she decided to ignore it for the time being as just listen to what he was saying to her. He was being nice to her, in a Harry in private type of way. 

“I didn’t think you—” She paused herself, something telling her to be careful with her choice of wording. “I thought you didn’t like me for a really long time... I just wanted you to accept me because I know this situation isn’t ideal.” Y/N explained, “I hoped I could help in any way...” God she was back to being nervous all over again, word vomit just spewing out because she was terrified he wouldn’t speak to her again. She didn’t want to be the clingy girl after sex. She had gotten way too ahead of herself thinking that he actually liked her like that.

“Hey... you’re good.” Harry panicked a little, pulling her closer to him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you nervous.” Damn, he hadn’t wanted Y/N scared. He was just trying to articulate. But he was kind of mean to her. “You’ve been perfect. I know dealing with me hasn’t been easy. I’m not the perfect person and it’s hard for me, too. I’m not good with new people. Or trusting them.” It was so much easier letting fans into the sliver of his life because they’d never truly know him. But Y/N was a scary aspect because she would be close. Know all his secrets. And he would be forced to trust her. “I never didn’t like you.” That much was true. “I don’t trust easily. It’s a bit scary when... when the whole world wants something from you. You never know who it is and who is safe. Who will pop up and ask something of you. There’s differences. It takes me a while to decide if someone is okay. And it was hard because you’ve been thrusted right in the hardest part. But I can tell you that you’ve been the best and the only person I think that can deal with me.” She was a saint for how she put up with him.

Y/N felt a little pang in her heart at his words. It was sentimental and maybe she was a baby because she was going to hold on to these words for the rest of her life, but she didn’t care. It would be those words that would get her through the tough days when he was acting super distant or when she was sad in general. 

“It’s okay, I understand. I never expected to just walk into your life and suddenly be your best mate... I guess my point is I’m glad you trust me enough— enough to do all these things with you.” Y/N said quietly, feeling herself already drifting off into sleep. 

“Night night.” She whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to his chest once again before feeling herself slip off into dream land. The sex had properly tired her out and she needed some rest.

----

It was weird. Harry got a good night's sleep which was incredibly rare for him. He hadn’t wanted to equate it to the sleepy kitten like girl in his arms but it had to be. 100%. Y/N was snoozing in his arms and it physically pained his chest to get out of bed but he needed some coffee. 

11 am. They’d slept in rather late. Considering they’d been up until probably 4, it made sense though. Now his mind was racing as he started the coffee pot, wondering how he could push Y/N away. He couldn’t become dependent on her. For sleep or sex or affection. Anything. He hadn’t been regretful at all— he loved last night. He wished that his head wasn’t such a mess. But Y/N deserved better than him for a real love. He had trust issues and insecurities and he was a jealous man and the only reason he hadn’t gone out and punched people who hit on her was because he couldn’t. Y/N needed someone emotionally out together. She had a good heart and would probably offer to help him but he needed to tell her it would be better if they just remained distant friends. His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell— and a slightly embarrassed to be shirtless Harry had to make his way to the door. Thank god he had pulled on sweats.

Y/N woke up shortly after Harry, feeling the warmth missing. Last night was truly incredible and she just hoped to god things stayed okay. Prayed that she didn’t mess things up by sleeping with him. She pouted a bit at the lack of warmth in the bed, but the smell of coffee meant he was most likely downstairs. Aw that’s sweet. She got up and went to pull on his shirt that was laying around from last night, walking down the stairs just as she heard the doorbell ring. 

Huh. That was weird. Was he expecting anyone? Maybe it was Jeff? Regardless, Y/N let her sore legs guide her downstairs only to be met with the sound of a familiar voice. An unwelcome familiar voice. Was it who she thought it was?

Rounding the corner, the identity was confirmed. Kendall fucking Jenner.

-----------------------------------

[part 5]

A/N: oof 🥵🥵🥵 but also a cliff hanger?? the tension!!! you’re in for a bumpy ride

let us know what you think!

masterlist 

[likelightningafterthethunder]

Like Lightning After the Thunder: Chapter One: Damned Smile

Fic Summary:

His breath wavered as he stared into Katsuki’s eyes. He knew he could get out if he tried. He could knock Katsuki out, hope that no one else would find them, and run back into the shadows where he belonged. Katsuki may have had him pinned down but he was in Denki’s range now and it would take little effort to send a charge through Katsuki to paralyze him temporarily.

It would take barely any additional effort to kill Katsuki.

As the sparks began to charge, lighting up the air around him, Katsuki refused to back down.

–

Katsuki always knew he was destined for great things.

He didn’t think he’d have to turn his back on all he’s ever known to get there.

Rating: T

Warnings: Eventual major character death, implied/referenced child abuse, psychological trauma

Other Tags: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki, slow burn, alternate universe - canon divergence

Read on Ao3 (links to corresponding chapter) or read below

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Fic navigation to read the fic on tumblr 

--

Even years later, that damn smile haunted his dreams.

There was absolutely no reason for him to still think about the event. Everything had been taken care of when it had happened― injuries were treated, authorities alerted, information secured, and a press conference to tie it all up in a big red bow. There were no loose ends, no surprise second coming, no physical reminders of what happened lingering in his daily life. Katsuki would have labeled it as done, dealt with, and no longer relevant, shoving it aside in his memory so he could focus on actual important shit.

Except his mind had different plans.

When he was lucky, he could completely forget about the event for months. Other times, his dreams would be filled with nothing but that damn smile, taunting him with its silence. He could usually predict when the dreams would come― the anniversary of the event for example― but other times, it seemed like anything could trigger the memory. He once saw a bright yellow balloon and for the rest of the day, every time he closed his eyes he saw that damned smile, never wavering despite the curses and insults Katsuki spewed.

He wanted to forget it. He wanted so desperately to forget it. For the image to erase itself from his mind, for it to take the feelings away with it. He could deal with the anger, he could always deal with the anger, but when his memory reminded him of the wave of hurt and betrayal that nearly blinded him…

When his alarm jolted him from his sleep and freed him from the smile, he couldn’t get out of bed fast enough. He woke up drenched in a cold sweat, sheets singed and smoking lightly as he unclenched his hands, and Katsuki was, for once, very relieved that not all of his sweat was explosive. He slapped the singes a few times to ensure that all of the embers were put out before heading for the bathroom, cursing under his breath as he flinched at his own reflection in the mirror.

There was nothing particularly wrong with his appearance, if you didn’t count the dark circles under his eyes from a fitful night’s sleep or his clammy skin, but after being plagued by the smile, Katsuki could barely look at himself. His reaction to the smile made him feel weak, like he couldn’t handle himself and that there was something wrong with him. It was just a smile after all. There was no reason for him to react to it like a nightmare, no reason for him to lose sleep over it or to feel overwhelmed by emotions at the thought of it.

Yet when he saw the smile and saw how the corners of his mouth were tugged a bit too tight, how his eyes were open a bit too wide, how the only shine in his eyes were the reflections of light on tears that refused to fall…

Katsuki cursed.

The icy cold shower did little to help distract him from the memory, nor did his morning run nor the steaming shower he took after. He wasn’t supposed to head into the agency today, so he didn’t have any planned beatdowns for today, and yes he probably shouldn’t be hoping for it, but part of him hoped for a sudden emergency villain so he could distract himself by focusing on beating some villain’s ass into next week.

A few hours later when his phone refused to stop buzzing, Katsuki wondered if throwing his phone across the room until it stopped would be close enough to beating villain ass to work. He reluctantly decided that talking to people so they’d leave him alone was probably less hassle to deal with than having to replace his phone and distribute his new number (even if it would give him an excuse to ghost some of these damn extras).

A few individual texts and a group text were the cause of the buzzing. As the group text’s new message count continued to rise, he figured it would be easier to respond to the individual texts first. Just in case he changed his mind about destroying the phone.

Four Eyes (Rocket Legs): Hello Bakugou, this is a reminder about the upcoming Class A reunion. As the head of the reunion committee, it is my duty to ensure an accurate headcount for the event, and I have yet to receive your response about your attendance. Please ensure to respond via the following link by this Friday at 11:59PM. [Class A 10 Year Reunion RSVP]

Four Eyes (Rocket Legs): In case you missed the previous messages regarding the reunion, the event is March 28th starting at 7PM at the Shinjuku Hotel in Musutafu. If you need to rent a room for the night or the weekend, please alert the Shinjuku Hotel staff that you are part of the Class A reunion party by next Wednesday for an event discount.

Katsuki frowned. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the possibility of being surrounded by all of his former classmates and even less at the idea of being socially obligated to spend the entire evening with them. At least when he met up with his friends elsewhere, he could always claim needing to leave early so he could make the last train or that work needed him to come in early the next day.

He closed out of the conversation, figuring he still had a few more days to decide if he really wanted to deal with his classmates for an entire evening.

Midoriya: Hey Katsugou! I was wondering if you’re going to go to the reunion? Tenya said the deadline to RSVP is coming soon and we haven’t heard from you, so I just thought I’d check in!

Katsuki: The fuck is Katsugou?

Midoriya: Oh sorry!! Typo!!

Midoriya: Anyway, are you coming?

Katsuki closed out of the conversation and moved on to the next one.

Shitty Hair: Katsuki! Are you coming to the reunion or not dude????

Katsuki: Fuck off.

Shitty Hair: Aww dude that’s no way to talk to your best friend, you know you love me!!

Katsuki: I’m blocking you.

He did not, in fact, block him. But he did close out of Eijirou’s texts.

Save for the newest text sent directly from Eijirou, all that was left was the backlog of texts in the group text. It had kept going off while he was reading the other conversations, so Katsuki figured it meant that everyone was either off for the day or on their lunch break.

Raccoon Eyes: guys!!!!! the reunion is COMING UPPPPPP!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: i cant wait to s

Raccoon Eyes: ee all of u guys again!!

Tape Face: lmao you saw us last week

Raccoon Eyes: yes

Raccoon Eyes: an eteRNITY ago

Raccoon Eyes: and like

Raccoon Eyes: kats left early so we didnt have everyone

Raccoon Eyes: so it doesnt count

Shitty Hair: Yeah Katsuki don’t leave early next time!!

Raccoon Eyes: we just have to hold him hostage next time

Raccoon Eyes: or like

Raccoon Eyes: AMBUSH him

Tape Face: i can always tape him up

Raccoon Eyes: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES

Raccoon Eyes: tape him to the wall

Raccoon Eyes: and then like

Raccoon Eyes: steal his wallet

Raccoon Eyes: cant get on transit w no moneys

Raccoon Eyes: ei and han hold him down

Raccoon Eyes: i run to hide his wallet where he cant fi

Raccoon Eyes: nd it

Raccoon Eyes: probs keeps kats tapped to the wall all night

Raccoon Eyes: free up his arms so he can have a drink????

Tape Face: explosion palms dude

Raccoon Eyes: oh u right

Raccoon Eyes: he can just have a cup w like

Raccoon Eyes: a REALLY REALLY long straw

Raccoon Eyes: make sure u tape him up w his hands behind his back

Tape Face: you got it

Shitty Hair: He’s in this chat guys he’s going to see the plan

Raccoon Eyes: whatevs we can still totally blindside him

Raccoon Eyes: ANYWAYS

Raccoon Eyes: ure all going right?????

Tape Face: ya I rsvpd a while back

Shitty Hair: Yep!! Wouldn’t miss it for the world!

Raccoon Eyes: what about u kats

Raccoon Eyes: kats???

Raccoon Eyes: KAAAAAAAAAAAAATS

Raccoon Eyes: k

Raccoon Eyes: a

Shitty Hair: I’ll text him separately

Raccoon Eyes: t

Tape Face: he probably has this muted lmao

Raccoon Eyes: s

Raccoon Eyes: !!!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: how dare u ignore us

Raccoon Eyes: after everything weve done for u!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: thought we were ur ride or die hoes

Raccoon Eyes: dont tell me ur not going!!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: im so offended

Raccoon Eyes: how could u do this to us kats

Shitty Hair: Maybe he’s at work today?

Raccoon Eyes: boo

Raccoon Eyes: how dare he prioritize wo

Raccoon Eyes: rk over us

Raccoon Eyes: his best friends

Raccoon Eyes: the suns of his life

Raccoon Eyes: the bit of happiness in the cold

Raccoon Eyes: cold

Raccoon Eyes: cold

Tape Face: coooooooooold

Raccoon Eyes: COOOOOOOOLD

Raccoon Eyes: thing he calls a heart

Shitty Hair: Lmao

Tape Face: its got a bit of warmth

Tape Face: most of it is his temper

Raccoon Eyes: boom boom POW

Raccoon Eyes: well while we wait for kats

Raccoon Eyes: help me pick some photos for the slideshow!!

Tape Face: are you doing only UA pics or some stuff since then

Tape Face: somehow iida managed to not specify lmao

Shitty Hair: The info email was like ten pages, how did he miss it

Tape Face: idk

Raccoon Eyes: ive got plenty for both!!

Raccoon Eyes: momo said pref UA pics but some new stuff is good too

Raccoon Eyes: show how far weve come n all that

Tape Face: oh cool let me get some opinions then too

Shitty Hair: Anyone have any pics of the camping trip from second year?

Raccoon Eyes: before or after todoroki and kats’ fight turned it into a icy hot springs

Shitty Hair: Both lmao but probably before it went to hell

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: ofc ive got us chillin in the springs

Raccoon Eyes: well most of us

Raccoon Eyes: kats u never get in the water w us :C

Raccoon Eyes: lets go to the beach next time!!

Tape Face: hed prob boil the water w you in it if you dragged him in lmao

Tape Face: spicy acid time

Raccoon Eyes: id like to see him TRY

Shitty Hair: Don’t tempt him lmao

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: i got like a shit ton more

Raccoon Eyes: should i send some of THE FIGHT

Shitty Hair: Maybe not

Tape Face: yes

Tape Face: well

Tape Face: depends on how many pissed off katsuki pics youre putting in lmao

Raccoon Eyes: OH

Raccoon Eyes: OHHHH

Raccoon Eyes: OHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Tape Face: ?

Raccoon Eyes: dude

Raccoon Eyes: do u have the POMERANIAN pic

Tape Face: o shit

Tape Face: image.png

Shitty Hair: I still think Katsuki should’ve taken that pup home

Shitty Hair: They’re matching!

Tape Face: image.png

Tape Face: i also have this one

Tape Face: when she tried to bite his nose off lmao

Raccoon Eyes: kats couldve named her king explosion murder

Raccoon Eyes: or just murder

Raccoon Eyes: p sure she wouldve tried to murder kats at least o

Raccoon Eyes: nce

Tape Face: lmao she basically tried when he found her

Shitty Hair: Maybe it’s for the best that he didn’t keep the pup

Tape Face: look what i found

Tape Face: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: AWWWW YES

Raccoon Eyes: LOOK AT USSSSS

Raccoon Eyes: we look FABBBB

Shitty Hair: Is that from the dance?

Tape Face: ye

Raccoon Eyes: guys what if we recreate that pic at the reunion

Raccoon Eyes: the fits?

Raccoon Eyes: immaculate

Raccoon Eyes: the pose?

Raccoon Eyes: perfection

Tape Face: hotel?

Tape Face: trivago

Shitty Hair: I’m down for recreating some pics!

Raccoon Eyes: yessssss

Raccoon Eyes: u have no choice either kats u gotta do it

Raccoon Eyes: wherever u are

Shitty Hair: Oh he replied!!

Raccoon Eyes: SWEET

Raccoon Eyes: what he say

Shitty Hair: He said fuck off

Tape Face: as expected

Shitty Hair: Lmao he threatened to block me again

Tape Face: thought he said he was blocking you last week

Shitty Hair: Yea exactly

Raccoon Eyes: HOW RUDE

Raccoon Eyes: as punishment for not paying attention to us

Raccoon Eyes: im gonna send this

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Tape Face: LMAO whend you make that

Shitty Hair: Is that Katsuki with a cat face and ears

Shitty Hair: Dude I don’t know if he’s going to kill you for that or for the pink hair first lmao

Raccoon Eyes: lmao made it just now

Raccoon Eyes: well MAYBE if he ANSWERED us

Katsuki: Delete it.

Tape Face: O SHIT

Tape Face: you summoned him

Raccoon Eyes: NO I WILL NOT

Katsuki: Delete it Raccoon Eyes or else I’m coming for you.

Tape Face: are you coming for the left shoes and shittin in them

Raccoon Eyes: NOOOOOOO not my shoes!!!!!!!!

Tape Face: its just the left shoes tho

Raccoon Eyes: BUT THATS MY FAVE SIDE

Katsuki: What the fuck are you two going on about?

Raccoon Eyes: DONT COME FOR M

Raccoon Eyes: Y LEFT SHOES KATS IM SORRY

Katsuki: I’m not coming for your fucking left shoes. Or any of your shoes.

Katsuki: I will be coming for you if you don’t delete that picture, though.

Raccoon Eyes: FORGIVENESS

Raccoon Eyes: I BEG

Raccoon Eyes: PLSSSSS

Katsuki: Delete the picture.

Raccoon Eyes: ugh fiiiiiiiiiine

Raccoon Eyes: its deleted

Raccoon Eyes: i wont send it to momo for the slide show

Katsuki: Good.

Raccoon Eyes: IF U COME TO THE REUNION

Katsuki: Fuck off.

Shitty Hair: C’mon Katsuki!! It’ll be fun!!

Tape Face: ya it wouldnt do if we didnt have our exploding star

Raccoon Eyes: ill send momo WORSE if u dont come

Raccoon Eyes: nd u wont know WHAT til AFTER

Raccoon Eyes: so PLSSSSSSSSSS

Raccoon Eyes: PRETTY PLSSSSSSS

Raccoon Eyes: PLS COME TO THE REUNION

Raccoon Eyes: ill spam u a lot worse if u dont show us proof of rsvp

Raccoon Eyes: pls kaaaaaaaaats

Raccoon Eyes: kaaaaaaaaats

Raccoon Eyes: k

Raccoon Eyes: a

Katsuki: Ugh fucking fine, I’ll do the RSVP now then.

Raccoon Eyes: t

Raccoon Eyes: YAY

Four Eyes (Rocket Legs): Good afternoon, Bakugou! I just wanted to confirm with you that I have received your RSVP for the Class A reunion. As a reminder, if you need to rent a room for the night or the weekend, please alert the Shinjuku Hotel staff that you are part of the Class A reunion party by next Wednesday for an event discount.

Katsuki: image.png

Katsuki: image.png

Katsuki: Four Eyes is watching the RSVP form like a fucking hawk apparently.

Raccoon Eyes: YAAAAAY URE RSVPD!!!

Shitty Hair: You know him, always dedicated to his work

Tape Face: sweet

Raccoon Eyes: are u guys getting rooms

Tape Face: yea musutafus too far for a round trip

Tape Face: esp since itll prob end late

Shitty Hair: I got one for the weekend!

Tape Face: wbu mina

Raccoon Eyes: booked a room already!!

Raccoon Eyes: kaaaaats wbu

Raccoon Eyes: u should

Raccoon Eyes: we could have a brunch or lunch or s/t thats just us

Raccoon Eyes: plsssssss kats

Katsuki: I’ll think about it.

Tape Face: better than a no lmao

Shitty Hair: If they run out of space or if you decide last second, you can room with me dude

Raccoon Eyes: awww why not a yes

Katsuki: I haven’t asked the other Four Eyes for the time off yet.

Tape Face: is this four eyes no4 or no15

Raccoon Eyes: four eyes no69

Raccoon Eyes: no wait

Raccoon Eyes: no420

Tape Face: haha blaze it

Raccoon Eyes: BLAZE IT

Shitty Hair: It’s number 7

Katsuki: Fuck you, I don’t have that many Four Eyes saved in my phone.

Shitty Hair: I’d be surprised if you had 420 contacts period dude

Raccoon Eyes: would b hilarious tho

Katsuki: Yes, it’s Four Eyes number 7.

Shitty Hair: I was right!!

Katsuki: Why would I ask any of the other Four Eyes for time off? They’re not my fucking bosses.

Tape Face: dunno

Raccoon Eyes: idk maybe ure secretly dating one a

Raccoon Eyes: nd have to confirm that its ok

Raccoon Eyes: ARE U SECRETLY DATING A FOUR EYES

Raccoon Eyes: U HAVE TO TELL US IF U ARE

Raccoon Eyes: URE LEGALLY OBLIGATED

Tape Face: o shit

Tape Face: scandalous

Katsuki: Shut the fuck up, I’m not dating anyone, secret or not.

Raccoon Eyes: thats what they all say

Katsuki: Whatever. I’m not dating anyone.

Raccoon Eyes: kats n four eyes no420 sittin in a tree

Raccoon Eyes: k

Raccoon Eyes: i

Raccoon Eyes: s

Raccoon Eyes: s

Raccoon Eyes: i

Katsuki: I’ll blow up all of your left shoes when you’re not home.

Raccoon Eyes: n

Raccoon Eyes: NO

Raccoon Eyes: IM STOPPING DONT DO IT

Shitty Hair: Hey what do you guys think of this photo

Shitty Hair: image.png

Tape Face: dude yes

Raccoon Eyes: AWWWW OUR FIRST BILLBOARDS AS PROS

Katsuki: Do we really need to send them pictures? It’s not like we fucking forgot this stuff already.

Tape Face: you can be a killjoy if you want lmao

Tape Face: im sure mina will send more than enough to cover for you

Raccoon Eyes: U BETCHA

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Tape Face: lmao why do you have a pic of katsuki throwing ei

Shitty Hair: I still can’t believe you did that bro

Shitty Hair: WITHOUT WARNING TOO

Katsuki: I gave you plenty of fucking warning.

Shitty Hair: Saying “I’m throwing you” AS YOU’RE THROWING ME is NOT PLENTY OF WARNING DUDE

Raccoon Eyes: im always ready to document golden moments

Katsuki: Shut the fuck up. We won the training exercise so what’s it fucking matter?

Shitty Hair: YOU THREW ME!!

Katsuki: Tape Face caught you before you could get hurt.

Shitty Hair: YOU /THREW/ ME!!!!!!

Tape Face: barely caught

Katsuki: Whatever.

Raccoon Eyes: im still impressed by how eASY u made that look

Katsuki: What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?

Raccoon Eyes: o look conveniently timed distraction photo spam

Katsuki sighed as he continued the conversation, commenting here and there on the photos his friends sent for judgement. In retrospect, he probably should have tried to talk to Shion first, since there was a chance she would have denied the time off for the reunion. Although, knowing her, she would have accepted just to force Katsuki into socializing. He opened up a new text message, figuring that if Shion did decide to deny the time off, he would at least have a screenshot to send to his friends explaining the sudden change in plans.

Katsuki: I need March 28th and 29th off.

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Do my eyes deceive me? The great Katsuki Bakugou, asking for time off?

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): I’m amazed! Usually I have to ask you to take the day off!

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Nay, not ask, but force!

Katsuki: Are you going to give it to me or not?

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Depends! What do you need the time off for?

Katsuki: Class reunion.

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Oh those are fun!

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Fill out the proper time off paperwork and have it on my desk by Monday. I’ll approve the time off.

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Just keep your phone on you in case we need you to come in for an emergency, but I’ll try not to ruin your reunion with work.

Katsuki: Thanks.

Well, so much for an easy way out.

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose when he noticed that his phone had already accumulated another thirty texts in the past few minutes, no doubt primarily from Mina. He scrolled through the backlog, sending a few mostly empty threats when he saw photos he did not want projected for the entire class to see, freezing when his gaze met a pair of familiar amber eyes.

Shit.

In his scramble to close out of the photo, to escape the genuine smile that somehow was more haunting than the one in his dreams, he left the group text completely. He briefly thanked his past self; he’d impulse or rage quit the group text plenty of times before that this wasn’t unusual behavior. If he was lucky, his friends wouldn’t have noticed the timing of his departure and would assume he was just fed up with the notifications or the conversation.

Shitty Hair: You okay, Katsuki?

A weak laugh escaped Katsuki’s lips as he read the newest notification. Of course Eijirou noticed.

Katsuki: I’m fine.

Shitty Hair: Okay

Shitty Hair: We don’t have to talk about it

Shitty Hair: But if you want to, I’m here dude

Shitty Hair: I’ll tell the others that you left so your phone would shut up and not to add you back yet

Katsuki: Thanks. Really.

Shitty Hair: No problem dude

Katsuki put his phone down, silently praying for the smile to leave him alone.

When he finally laid down for bed that night, he repeated the short prayer, for a peaceful night’s rest free of the smile, of the hurt, of the pain, of the guilt.

But as always, the smile came.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon IV

Jason is a CEO: Part IV

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff 

new beginnings

look fragile

like glass

but when grabbed

sparkle

like diamonds

-badpoetry

“Good morning Mr Grace,” Grover Underwood smiled from his usual spot behind the coffee machine.

“Morning, how are you?”

“Much happier for seeing you less like someone kicked your puppy,” He gave Jason a knowing look.

“How?”

“There are some things the brain cannot hide, matters of the heart are often one of them.”

He didn’t really have any reply to that, so he gave the man an awkward smile and shrugged.

“Your usual then?”

“Yes please, and an iced coffee for Hazel.”

“Ah where is the darling this morning?”

“She’s coming into the office later, something about needing to go home first? She must have stayed at a friend’s place.”

Grover raised a dark brow, “Mhmm and where is your driver this morning? I noticed you drove yourself in today.”

“Uh I think Frank took the day off,” He frowned trying to piece the conversation he’d had with his friend in his sleep-deprived brain.

“Oh interesting,” Grover’s chocolate brown eyes twinkled in amusement, but before Jason could question him a warm cup was being shoved into his hand and he was being ushered away to wait for the iced coffee.

Collapsing into a chair, he pushed his glasses up his nose and wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck. Winter was beautiful but gods it was cold. He glanced around the café taking in the familiar forest green walls and dark wood floors. There was no sun streaming through the windows today so the gold accents on the tables were dulled and dark, like hidden bronze. He traced his fingers around the edge of his cup, losing himself in the motion, in the feeling of heat on his cold fingers, in the small gusts of wind against his cheeks as the door opened and closed, in the noise of a bustling store, in the–

“Hello Jason,”

“Luke,” He took a deep breath, “Fuck off.”

“Aw don’t be like that,” He sniggered.

“Please Luke, I don’t have the energy for this right now,” Exhaustion was a thousand-ton weight on his bones.

“That’s your problem Jason you never wanted to take things head on. It was always let’s wait for this, let’s get their opinion first, let’s just give it a couple weeks. You could have had the world begging at your fingertips if you just went for what you wanted.”

“Are you done?”

Luke’s responding laugh was malicious, “You are so-“

“Leave.” His voice was stone.

His ex-boyfriend scoffed, “Pathetic.”

Jason watched as the face he had been so in love with sneered at him, the scar running down a pale cheek twisting into malice. His soul ached for what could have been, it burned for what now was. It always surprised him how drained he felt after every interaction with Luke- like crashing down from a potent high. Being with Luke was a high, was euphoria and hope and sin. What the fuck went wrong? 

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Talk to me,”

“Why do you insist on answering the phone like you’re some sort of mafia boss?” His sister grumbled.

“Hello to you too Thalia,”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve set you up on a date tonight. Six-thirty at Sun and Songs.”

He groaned, “No. I am not in the mood.”

“Jason Grace,” She started; he could feel a rant coming on, “You cannot stop living your life because you have a wanker of an ex-boyfriend. You have been in a slump since Luke and it is affecting you in ways you’re too scared to admit.”

“It is not affecting me,” He was tired of having this fight, “I literally dated Piper for like three months.”

“Mhm and were you happy? Did you put all you could into the relationship?” She didn’t wait for his response, “No, you may have been a little happier, but you weren’t you. So you will go on this date tonight and in five years when we’re planning your wedding you better be thanking me in your speech.”

“Gods Thals,” He snorted, “We haven’t even gone on the date yet and you’re already planning a wedding?”

“Wait does that mean you agree to it?” She squealed through the phone.

“Yes loser,” He held in a laugh, “I’ll go on the date. But if it doesn’t work out you drop all of this. No more setting me up, no more interfering.”

“Yes sir. Now, how work’s going?”

“Besides the fact that Project Hestia is on hold because of this stupid contract everything is good.”

“Isn’t your fancy lawyer lady sorting it out?” She muttered.

“Reyna is a great lawyer and you know it.”

“Yea but she’s also my ex-girlfriend so I get to be a little resentful.”

He snorted at that, “Of course, and how are you?”

“I’m good. The Conservatory is still standing so I can’t be doing too many things wrong.”

“Didn’t you guys get cheetah cubs this weekend?”

“Oh Jase!” His sister cried, “They are just the absolute cutest things. Did you know cheetahs are so shy that some conservationists and wild-life biologists recommend giving them emotional support puppies?”

“So what you guys got puppies and cubs?”

“We haven’t got the puppies yet; they’re only arriving this week.”

“Well send me pictures when they’re together, maybe I’ll have them framed and hung around the office as a morale booster.”

She laughed, the sound crackly through the speaker, “Will do little bro. Listen I have to go but call me tomorrow to tell me about the date.”

“Wait!” He yelled, ignoring the weird looks from the café patrons as he walked out, “What’s her name?”

“Zoe.”

***

Jason was nervous. That was the only explanation for his shaky hands and the zoo of creatures in his stomach. He had gotten to Suns and Songs fifteen minutes early with a lavender and daisy bouquet in hand. The restaurant his sister had reserved was nothing short of incredible. Dark maroon draped over each table, and opulent candelabras sat in the center, lit only if the table was occupied. Glass and crystal chandeliers swung slowly from the high wooden beams, catching on the light and making a kaleidoscope of the room. Even the way the air smelt was decadent here. Like wood smoke and perfume, some hint of chocolate, maybe. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he wanted to bottle the scent and bathe himself in it. Trying not to be suspicious he took another deep breath in; it calmed his nerves if nothing else.

“Mr Grace?” someone put a soft hand on his shoulder, “Your guest,”

He thanked the waitress, getting up to greet his date and pull out her chair. He tried to muffle his gasp when he finally turned to her. She was stunning. Midnight skin contrasting elegantly with the pastel yellow dress she wore. Braids intertwined with glittering strands; it cast a pale silver halo around her head. Small hoop earrings glinted as she moved, and the bracelets at her wrist clinked gently when they shook hands.

“Hi, Jason Grace,” He smiled.

“Zoe Nightshade.” She flashed beautiful white teeth.

He handed her the flowers, “You look unbelievable.” He truly was in awe of her.

“Thank you,” Her smile was soft, but her voice was crisp and direct, “And these are gorgeous.”

“Would you like to order drinks?”

They scanned the menu quickly; Zoe ordered a cocktail he hadn’t heard of and he ordered the first thing he saw that didn’t have tequila in it.

“So,” He asked, and then cringed at himself internally. Starting any conversation with so was bound to make it awkward.

He cleared his throat, “How do you know Thalia?”

“We work together at the Conservatory. I moved here a couple months ago because I got transferred from the wildlife center in Germany.”

Jason didn’t know what but something about her voice made his insides melt. She said everything so undiplomatically– like if it wasn’t a fact it wasn’t worth uttering.

“Oh that’s cool. What do you do?”

“I’m a veterinarian. You?”

“Well I was a structural engineer but somehow over the years I got roped into being a town and regional planner.”

She frowned, tilting her head assessingly, “You did not finish your engineering degree?”

“Oh no I finished and got my masters in structural but then I started my company and I realised I needed other qualifications to run it the way I wanted to so I had to go back and get a degree in urban and regional planning. By the end I felt like I had been studying since the dawn of time.”

She laughed at that, and a look of surprise crossed her face, as if it was as unexpected to her as it was to him. “I know how you feel. I love animals and I’m passionate about my work but when I was done studying, I vowed never to go back. Studying for seven years after school and then trying to do it all over again feels like a one-way ticket to the end of the road.”

He mirrored her smile, “How did you get into veterinary sciences anyway?”

“My father was always busy, and my sisters were… interested in anything that could make them more beautiful, or richer. So I was pretty alone for most of my childhood. At some stage I convinced my father to get me a dog, Ladon. We were inseparable. But he got hurt when this man,“ She said it with such disgust he almost flinched. “This man hurt him. Kicked Little Ladon out the way when he was just trying to say hello. We had to take him to the vet, and I remember them being so sweet and kind to my dog and I knew I wanted to be exactly like that when I grew up.”

“Any chance you know where this man is so we can kick his ass?”

She laughed, raspy and bursting, “Don’t worry little eleven-year-old me kicked Mr Alcides as hard as I could in the shins.”

“Good,” he nodded with conviction, “He deserved more but you found your passion so there is some balance.”

She hid her grin behind a sip from her drink.

“Sir, ma’am,” Their waitress stepped to their table, “Would you like to order?”

Hours later, cheeks flushed from the liquor, laughing over Thalia’s antics and their shared need for structure, they finally decided to call the dinner to an end.

“The focaccia was to die for,” Zoe groaned, patting her stomach.

“Honestly, I may have to marry the pasta.” He sighed contentedly.

She giggled, and he knew it was a rare thing for her because her face caught that surprised look again.

“Want to grab dessert?”

“Oh gods no,” She shook her head in alarm, and then frowned as the realisation of what that meant washed through her.

“I had a really great time tonight,” He started softly.

“Do you want to walk to the park? We can stop and have gelato?” Her dark eyes were full of nervous hope.

He blinked at her, a little shocked she wanted to continue the date, “I thought you didn’t want dessert?” He teased.

“Maybe the walk will burn off some of these calories and i’ll have space for a little ice-cream.” She scunched her nose.

He knew the gelato was just an excuse, so with a grin that lit up his whole face he grabbed her hand and nodded, “Let’s do it Miss Nightshade.”

Her face glowed with relief and enthusiasm as they tucked their chairs in and exited the restaurant.

“Tell me about your family. How come you weren’t interested in the rich side of life like your sisters?”

“I guess being the youngest kind of made it all seem pointless. I had seen what happened when their vanity became malicious and I didn’t ever want to turn into something I couldn’t recognise. I went to stay with my Aunt Diana through high school. She owned a bird sanctuary. That’s where I interned in my college years.”

“Wow,” He looked down to her, awe evident in his face, “And it didn’t bother you to be so far away from your father and sisters?”

“Honestly, I’m not even sure they noticed when I left.” She shrugged, “It was a long time ago. I really only see them for family functions now.”

“And your aunt?”

“She still has the bird sanctuary, but she mostly works in the background now. My cousins, Bianca and Phoebe, run it full time.”

“Do you miss it? Were you guys close?”

“Much closer than my sisters and I. I do miss them, but I definitely can’t say I miss the sanctuary. Some of those birds were evil.”

Just then a loud squawk came from above them. She scowled at the sky, “I’m talking about you Auretta.”

He tried to hold in a laugh but Zoe stuck out her tongue childishly and they both bent over in laughter.

“Maybe we shouldn’t hurl insults while we’re out in the open.” He managed to gasp.

“Good thing the gelato shop is right there.” She grinned, grabbing his hand and sprinting towards the small, illuminated store at the end of the cobbled street. Her dress shimmered, moved like rays of light. She looked like a star.

“Come on,” She yelled, tugging at his hand harder.

‘Alright, alright,” He snapped out of his admiration and let her lead him into the shop.

“Hi, what can I get you?”

“Want to share?”

“Sure, you choose,” He waved a hand towards the abundance of flavours behind the glass.

“Please can we have one scoop of chocolate, one scoop of vanilla and,” Her brow furrowed as she scanned the tags, “And one scoop of cookie crumble.”

“Why did I think you were a sorbet girl?”

“Sorbet in the summer, anything else for the rest of the year.” She said matter of factly.

He nodded solemnly, “Yes makes sense.”

She swatted his arm, grabbing the cone from the lady with a thank you, “Gods I feel like a teenager again,”

“I know what you mean,” Her excitement was infectious.

“I have to ask,” She swallowed a chunk of cookie crumble, “What on earth were you thinking when you decided to eat a stapler?”

Jason groaned, “Why did Thalia tell you that? She swore she wouldn’t tell anyone and if asked I would say I fell off my bike or something.”

Zoe giggled, “Come on, spill.”

“Okay, first of all I was two,” He sighed, embarrassment heating his cheeks, “And it was shiny, and it made a cool clicking noise, and I wanted to know what it tasted like.”

“I can just picture a little Jason crawling onto the kitchen counter and trying to bite down on a stapler.” She teased.

“Yes well now I have this scar,” He pointed to his upper lip, rolling his eyes.

“Battle scars. Very worthy.”

He shoved at her shoulder lightly and they dissolved into laughter once more.

It was almost midnight by the time he had dropped her off at home and stepped into his apartment. He looked at his phone to see a couple work messages, and something from Hazel– things he could reply to in the morning he decided, tugging off his tie and discarding his clothes as he walked to his room. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow, his phone still glaringly bright and open on the chat with his sister.

You were right. We’re going on a second date.

-----------------------------------------------------

Grover is like some other worldy deity that spews life lessons every time they meet and i am so here for it! Anyway what y’all saying??? How are we feeling?

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@lesbian-peanuts

@leydiangelo

@queen-of-demons-and-hell

@msdrpreist

@sparkythunderstorm

@nishlicious-01

@lucyisblue​

[aboveallarescuer]

Dany asserting her identity, titles and achievements (to others or herself) and/or moments of pride in general

As I was rereading ASOIAF, I made it my goal to compile all* the book passages demonstrating either certain key attributes of Daenerys Targaryen (e.g. that she's compassionate and smart) or aspects of hers that are usually overstated (e.g. that she's ambitious and prophecy-driven).  Doing such a task may seem exaggerated, but I'd argue it's not, for many, many misconceptions about Dany have become widespread in light of the show's final season's events (and even before).

It must be acknowledged that it can be tricky to reference, say, ADWD passages to counter-argument how she was depicted in season eight (which allegedly follows ADOS events). Dany will have had plenty of character development in the span of two books. However, whatever happens to Dany in the next two books, I would argue that there is more than enough material to conclude that her show counterpart was made to fall for flaws that she (for the most part) never had and actions that she (for the most part) would never take. (and that's not even considering the double standards and the contradictions with what had been shown from show!Dany up until then, but that's obviously out of the scope of these lists)

Another objection to the purpose of these lists is that Game of Thrones is different from A Song of Ice and Fire and should be analyzed on its own, which is a fair point. However, the show is also an adaptation of these books, which begs the questions: why did they change Dany's character? Why did they overfocus on negative traits of hers or depicted them as negative when they weren't supposed to be or gave her negative traits that were never hers to begin with? Another fact that undermines the show=/=books argument is that most people think that the show's ending will be the books', albeit only in broad strokes and in different circumstances. As a result, people's perception of Dany is inevitably influenced by the show, which is a shame.

I hope these lists can be useful for whoever wants to find book passages to defend (or even simply explore different facets of) Dany's character in metas or conversations.

*Well, at least all the passages that I could find in her chapters, which is no guarantee that the effort was perfectly executed, but I did my best.

Also, people could interpret certain passages differently and then come up with a different collection of passages if they ever attempted to make one, so I'm not saying that this list is completely objective (nor that there could ever be one).

Also, some passages have been cut short according to whether they were, IMO, relevant to the specific topic of the list they're in, so the context surrounding them may not always be clear (always read the books and use asearchoficeandfire). Many of them appear in different lists, sometimes fully referenced, sometimes not.

I listed the passages back to front because I felt doing so highlighted Dany's evolution better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To justify the existence of this list, let's see examples of widespread opinions that I feel misrepresent Daenerys Targaryen:

Demanding respect simply because she is the “rightful heir” to the Iron Throne is in her Signature Moves list right up there with Yelling and Burning. As Machiavelli might say: “she trippin". A ruler only gets real power through taking and earning and keeping it, not through inheritance. (Wisecrack)

~

But even Daenerys’ sense of altruism has diminished considerably of late, and she’s been relying on her reputation rather than a desire to inspire love and loyalty. Tywin once told Joffrey that any man who must say “I am the king” is no true king. Meanwhile, Daenerys’ first course of action is always to intimidate with her endless list of titles, even when they can’t possibly help her, as when she’s brought before Khal Moro in “The Red Woman.” (x)

~

Her arc is honest and real and logical. It is a coherent response to her given circumstances and follows her narrative thread coupled with her inherent lust for her own destiny. It both pushes against her gender and is inherently shaped by how others have treated her due to her gender. It is both a result of her victimization and in spite of her trials. She is self-absorbed and self-servicing, and the human tension between ego and selflessness is a huge fulcrum for the story thematically across the board. (x)

~

But the character has been obsessed with the Iron Throne, right from her youth. While, time and again, she has admitted that her father was a homicidal maniac, but that has never discouraged her from leaving her claim to the throne. (x)

~

We are supposed to forget that she is fighting for nothing more than her own sense of entitlement to the throne, like some upper-class brat who loses her family’s fortune and eventually manages to become CEO of her own corporation. (x)

I would argue that her assertion of her titles does not stem from "sense of entitlement to the throne" or from being "self-absorbed" and "self-servicing" or simply for the sake of "intimidating". 

She asserts them when she needs to show other people why she deserves respect (which is, of course, all the more necessary for the sake of her gender) like in ASOS Dany IV; 

She asserts them when she needs to control her fear or emotional pain (AGOT Dany II, ASOS Dany III, ADWD Dany I);

She asserts them to motivate herself (ADWD Dany X); 

She asserts them to take responsibility for carrying them in the first place (ADWD Dany V, ADWD Dany VI, ADWD Dany VIII); 

She even acknowledges their potential negative side (ADWD Dany II, ADWD Dany VIII). 

And let's not forget that, in ADWD Dany IV, when the Green Grace argues for a Dany-Hizdahr marriage by mentioning some of their ancestors, Dany replies that "His forebears are as dead as mine. Will Hizdahr raise their shades to defend Meereen against its enemies? I need a man with ships and swords. You offer me ancestors." 

And these are only examples off the top of my head. My point is that her relationship with power is complex.

IMO, claims like the ones I've linked to certainly cannot be made after reading the books (some can't even after watching the show's first 71 episodes, but the show can be all over the place and ... I digress), so take a look at these passages.

A Dance with Dragons

ADWD Daenerys X

The sun grew hotter as it rose, and before long her head was pounding. Dany’s hair was growing out again, but slowly. “I need a hat,” she said aloud. Up on Dragonstone she had tried to make one for herself, weaving stalks of grass together as she had seen Dothraki women do during her time with Drogo, but either she was using the wrong sort of grass or she simply lacked the necessary skill. Her hats all fell to pieces in her hands. Try again, she told herself. You will do better the next time. You are the blood of the dragon, you can make a hat. She tried and tried, but her last attempt had been no more successful than her first.

~

No, Dany told herself. If I look back I am lost. She might live for years amongst the sunbaked rocks of Dragonstone, riding Drogon by day and gnawing at his leavings every evenfall as the great grass sea turned from gold to orange, but that was not the life she had been born to.

~

Am I dying? Then she saw the pale crescent moon, floating high above the grass, and it came to her that this was no more than her moon blood.

If she had not been so sick and scared, that might have come as a relief. Instead she began to shiver violently. She rubbed her fingers through the dirt, and grabbed a handful of grass to wipe between her legs. The dragon does not weep. She was bleeding, but it was only woman’s blood. The moon is still a crescent, though. How can that be? She tried to remember the last time she had bled. The last full moon? The one before? The one before that? No, it cannot have been so long as that. “I am the blood of the dragon,” she told the grass, aloud.

~

“...I am only a young girl.”

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.

“Fire and Blood,” Daenerys told the swaying grass.

ADWD Daenerys IX

When his mouth opened, she could see bits of broken bone and charred flesh between his black teeth. His eyes were molten. I am looking into hell, but I dare not look away. She had never been so certain of anything. If I run from him, he will burn me and devour me.

[...] He is fire made flesh, she thought, and so am I.

ADWD Daenerys VIII

No queen has clean hands, Dany told herself. She thought of Doreah, of Quaro, of Eroeh … of a little girl she had never met, whose name had been Hazzea. Better a few should die in the pit than thousands at the gates. This is the price of peace, I pay it willingly. If I look back, I am lost.

~

You saw me as defeated, Dany thought, and who am I to say that you were wrong?

“...Never trust a sellsword.”

Or a queen, thought Dany.

~

“The dragon has three heads,” Dany said when they were on the final flight. “My marriage need not be the end of all your hopes. I know why you are here.”

“For you,” said Quentyn, all awkward gallantry.

“No,” said Dany. “For fire and blood.”

~

“They are … they are fearsome creatures.”

“They are dragons, Quentyn.” Dany stood on her toes and kissed him lightly, once on each cheek. “And so am I.”

ADWD Daenerys VII

It was close to sunset before Daario Naharis appeared with his new Stormcrows, the Westerosi who had come over to him from the Windblown. Dany found herself glancing at them as yet another petitioner droned on and on. These are my people. I am their rightful queen.

~

“Come back to bed and kiss me.” No one had ever kissed her like Daario Naharis. “I am your queen, and I command you to fuck me.”

She had meant it playfully[.]

~

“...This match will save our city, you will see.”

“So we pray. I want to plant my olive trees and see them fruit.” Does it matter that Hizdahr’s kisses do not please me? Peace will please me. Am I a queen or just a woman?

ADWD Daenerys VI

“Your Grace should not be here, breathing these black humors.”

“I am the blood of the dragon,” Dany reminded him. “Have you ever seen a dragon with the flux?” Viserys had oft claimed that Targaryens were untroubled by the pestilences that afflicted common men, and so far as she could tell, it was true. She could remember being cold and hungry and afraid, but never sick.

ADWD Daenerys V

“Your Grace could not have known—”

“I am the queen. It was my place to know.”

~

“I may be a young girl innocent of war, but I am not a lamb to walk bleating into the harpy’s den. I still have my Unsullied. I have the Stormcrows and the Second Sons. I have three companies of freedmen.”

~

“What of these Astapori?”

My children. “They are coming here for help. For succor and protection. We cannot turn our backs on them.”

Ser Barristan frowned. “Your Grace, I have known the bloody flux to destroy whole armies when left to spread unchecked. The seneschal is right. We cannot have the Astapori in Meereen.”

Dany looked at him helplessly. It was good that dragons did not cry.

ADWD Daenerys IV

"Most queens have no purpose but to warm some king's bed and pop out sons for him. If that's the sort of queen you mean to be, best marry Hizdahr."

Her anger flashed. "Have you forgotten who I am?"

"No. Have you?"

Viserys would have his head off for that insolence. “I am the blood of the dragon. Do not presume to teach me lessons.” When Dany stood, the lion pelt slipped from her shoulders and tumbled to the ground. “Leave me.”

ADWD Daenerys III

“...A child departed Qarth, as lost as she was lovely. I feared she was sailing to her doom, yet now I find her here enthroned, mistress of an ancient city, surrounded by a mighty host that she raised up out of dreams.”

No, she thought, out of blood and fire.

~

“You have grown suspicious, Daenerys.”

Always. “I have grown wise, Xaro.”

~

“Is that meant to frighten me? I lived in fear for fourteen years, my lord. I woke afraid each morning and went to sleep afraid each night … but my fears were burned away the day I came forth from the fire. Only one thing frightens me now.”

“And what is it that you fear, sweet queen?”

“I am only a foolish young girl.” Dany rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. “But not so foolish as to tell you that.

~

If I were a dragon, I could fly to Westeros, she thought when he was gone. I would have no need of Xaro or his ships.

ADWD Daenerys II

Safe. The word made Dany’s eyes fill up with tears. “I want to keep you safe.” Missandei was only a child. With her, she felt as if she could be a child too. “No one ever kept me safe when I was little. Well, Ser Willem did, but then he died, and Viserys … I want to protect you but … it is so hard. To be strong. I don’t always know what I should do. I must know, though. I am all they have. I am the queen … the … the …”

“… mother,” whispered Missandei.

“Mother to dragons.” Dany shivered.

~

She squeezed the water from her silvery hair. “I am half-sick of riddling. In Qarth I was a beggar, but here I am a queen. I command you—”

~

A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once. “I was praying,” she told the Naathi girl. “It will be light soon. I had best eat something, before court.”

~

“I would give Hazzea back to you if I could,” she told the father, “but some things are beyond the power of even a queen. Her bones shall be laid to rest in the Temple of the Graces, and a hundred candles shall burn day and night in her memory. Come back to me each year upon her nameday, and your other children shall not want … but this tale must never pass your lips again.”

~

Mother of dragons, Daenerys thought. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros? I am the blood of the dragon, she thought. If they are monsters, so am I.

ADWD Daenerys I

“This one has been told that your servant Stalwart Shield sometimes gave coin to the women of the brothels to lie with him and hold him.”

The blood of the dragon does not weep.

~

Daenerys pushed her hair back. “Find these cowards for me. Find them, so that I might teach the Harpy’s Sons what it means to wake the dragon.”

A Storm of Swords

ASOS Daenerys VI

No one was calling her Daenerys the Conqueror yet, but perhaps they would. Aegon the Conqueror had won Westeros with three dragons, but she had taken Meereen with sewer rats and a wooden cock, in less than a day.

~

Yet the thought of seeing Jorah Mormont again made her feel as if she’d swallowed a spoonful of flies; angry, agitated, sick. She could almost feel them buzzing round her belly. I am the blood of the dragon. I must be strong. I must have fire in my eyes when I face them, not tears.

~

She was Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, khaleesi and queen, Mother of Dragons, slayer of warlocks, breaker of chains, and there was no one in the world that she could trust.

ASOS Daenerys V

Worst of all, they had nailed a slave child up on every milepost along the coast road from Yunkai, nailed them up still living with their entrails hanging out and one arm always outstretched to point the way to Meereen. Leading her van, Daario had given orders for the children to be taken down before Dany had to see them, but she had countermanded him as soon as she was told. “I will see them,” she said. “I will see every one, and count them, and look upon their faces. And I will remember.”

By the time they came to Meereen sitting on the salt coast beside her river, the count stood at one hundred and sixty-three. I will have this city, Dany pledged to herself once more.

~

They watched Oznak zo Pahl dismount his white charger, undo his robes, pull out his manhood, and direct a stream of urine in the general direction of the olive grove where Dany’s gold pavilion stood among the burnt trees. He was still pissing when Daario Naharis rode up, arakh in hand. “Shall I cut that off for you and stuff it down his mouth, Your Grace?” His tooth shone gold amidst the blue of his forked beard.

“It’s his city I want, not his meager manhood.” She was growing angry, however. If I ignore this any longer, my own people will think me weak. [...]

High on the walls of Meereen, the jeers had grown louder, and now hundreds of the defenders were taking their lead from the hero and pissing down through the ramparts to show their contempt for the besiegers. They are pissing on slaves, to show how little they fear us, she thought. They would never dare such a thing if it were a Dothraki khalasar outside their gates.

~

Could I love Daario? What would it mean, if I took him into my bed? Would that make him one of the heads of the dragon? Ser Jorah would be angry, she knew, but he was the one who’d said she had to take two husbands. Perhaps I should marry them both and be done with it.

But these were foolish thoughts. She had a city to take, and dreaming of kisses and some sellsword’s bright blue eyes would not help her breach the walls of Meereen. I am the blood of the dragon, Dany reminded herself. Her thoughts were spinning in circles, like a rat chasing its tail.

~

When the horses had been saddled, Dany and her companions set out along the shoreline, away from the city. Even so, she could feel Meereen at her back, mocking her. When she looked over one shoulder, there it stood, the afternoon sun blazing off the bronze harpy atop the Great Pyramid. Inside Meereen the slavers would soon be reclining in their fringed tokars to feast on lamb and olives, unborn puppies, honeyed dormice and other such delicacies, whilst outside her children went hungry. A sudden wild anger filled her. I will bring you down, she swore.

ASOS Daenerys IV

“Woman, you bray like an ass, and make no more sense.”

“Woman?” She chuckled. “Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.” Dany met his stare. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo’s riders, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.”

~

The man on the white camel named himself Grazdan mo Eraz. Lean and hard, he had a white smile such as Kraznys had worn until Drogon burned off his face.

~

When he was gone, Dany threw herself down on her pillows beside her dragons. She had not meant to be so sharp with Ser Jorah, but his endless suspicion had finally woken her dragon.

He will forgive me, she told herself. I am his liege. Dany found herself wondering whether he was right about Daario. She felt very lonely all of a sudden. Mirri Maz Duur had promised that she would never bear a living child. House Targaryen will end with me. That made her sad. “You must be my children,” she told the dragons, “my three fierce children. Arstan says dragons live longer than men, so you will go on after I am dead.”

ASOS Daenerys III

“I am not a child,” she told him. “I am a queen.”

“Yet even queens can err. The Astapori have cheated you, Your Grace. A dragon is worth more than any army. Aegon proved that three hundred years ago, upon the Field of Fire.”

“I know what Aegon proved. I mean to prove a few things of my own.”

~

She stood in her stirrups and raised the harpy’s fingers above her head for all the Unsullied to see. “IT IS DONE!” she cried at the top of her lungs. “YOU ARE MINE!” She gave the mare her heels and galloped along the first rank, holding the fingers high. “YOU ARE THE DRAGON’S NOW! YOU’RE BOUGHT AND PAID FOR! IT IS DONE! IT IS DONE!”

ASOS Daenerys II

Kraznys had commanded them to lay down their spears and shields, and doff their swordbelts and quilted tunics, so the Queen of Westeros might better inspect the lean hardness of their bodies.

~

“Remind your Good Master of who I am. Remind him that I am Daenerys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt, trueborn queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. My blood is the blood of Aegon the Conqueror, and of old Valyria before him.”

~

“When Aegon the Dragon stepped ashore in Westeros, the kings of Vale and Rock and Reach did not rush to hand him their crowns. If you mean to sit his Iron Throne, you must win it as he did, with steel and dragonfire. And that will mean blood on your hands before the thing is done.”

Blood and fire, thought Dany. The words of House Targaryen. She had known them all her life.

ASOS Daenerys I

No squall could frighten Dany, though. Daenerys Stormborn, she was called, for she had come howling into the world on distant Dragonstone as the greatest storm in the memory of Westeros howled outside, a storm so fierce that it ripped gargoyles from the castle walls and smashed her father’s fleet to kindling.

~

“I ... that was not fitting. I am your queen.”

“My queen,” he said, “and the bravest, sweetest, and most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Daenerys—”

“Your Grace!”

A Clash of Kings

ACOK Daenerys V

She was breaking her fast on a bowl of cold shrimp-and-persimmon soup when Irri brought her a Qartheen gown, an airy confection of ivory samite patterned with seed pearls. “Take it away,” Dany said. “The docks are no place for lady’s finery.”

If the Milk Men thought her such a savage, she would dress the part for them. When she went to the stables, she wore faded sandsilk pants and woven grass sandals. Her small breasts moved freely beneath a painted Dothraki vest, and a curved dagger hung from her medallion belt. Jhiqui had braided her hair Dothraki-fashion, and fastened a silver bell to the end of the braid.

~

When she told a Lyseni on the Trumpeteer that she was Daenerys Stormborn, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, he gave her a deadface look and said, “Aye, and I’m Lord Tywin Lannister and shit gold every night.”

~

She turned back as he reached for his coins, intending to put an end to this mummer’s farce. The blood of the dragon would not be herded through the bazaar by an old man and a fat eunuch.

~

“The great cog Saduleon is berthed at the end of the quay, and the galleys Summer Sun and Joso’s Prank are anchored beyond the breakwater.”

Three heads has the dragon, Dany thought, wondering. “I shall tell my people to make ready to depart at once. But the ships that bring me home must bear different names.”

“As you wish,” said Arstan. “What names would you prefer?”

“Vhagar,” Daenerys told him. “Meraxes. And Balerion. Paint the names on their hulls in golden letters three feet high, Arstan. I want every man who sees them to know the dragons are returned.”

ACOK Daenerys IV

Ser Jorah Mormont gave the merchant prince a sour look. “Your Grace, remember Mirri Maz Duur.”

“I do,” Dany said, suddenly decided. “I remember that she had knowledge. And she was only a maegi.”

Pyat Pree smiled thinly. “The child speaks as sagely as a crone. Take my arm, and let me lead you.”

“I am no child.” Dany took his arm nonetheless.

~

The blood of the dragon must not be afraid. Dany said a quick prayer, begging the Warrior for courage and the Dothraki horse god for strength. She made herself walk forward.

ACOK Daenerys III

“Did you weep?”

“The blood of the dragon does not weep,” she said testily.

Xaro sighed. “You ought to have wept.” The Qartheen wept often and easily; it was considered a mark of the civilized man.

~

Part of her would have liked nothing more than to lead her people back to Vaes Tolorro, and make the dead city bloom. No, that is defeat. I have something Viserys never had. I have the dragons. The dragons are all the difference.

~

Even so, it would be years before they were large enough to take to war. And they must be trained as well, or they will lay my kingdom waste. For all her Targaryen blood, Dany had not the least idea of how to train a dragon.

~

“If you go west, you risk your life.”

“House Targaryen has friends in the Free Cities,” she reminded him. “Truer friends than Xaro or the Pureborn.”

~

“Illyrio believes in no cause but Illyrio. Gluttons are greedy men as a rule, and magisters are devious. Illyrio Mopatis is both. What do you truly know of him?”

“I know that he gave me my dragon eggs.”

He snorted. “If he’d known they were like to hatch, he would have sat on them himself.”

That made her smile despite herself. “Oh, I have no doubt of that, ser. I know Illyrio better than you think. I was a child when I left his manse in Pentos to wed my sun-and-stars, but I was neither deaf nor blind. And I am no child now.”

~

“Sellswords have their uses,” Ser Jorah admitted, “but you will not win your father’s throne with sweepings from the Free Cities. Nothing knits a broken realm together so quick as an invading army on its soil.”

“I am their rightful queen,” Dany protested.

“You are a stranger who means to land on their shores with an army of outlanders who cannot even speak the Common Tongue. The lords of Westeros do not know you, and have every reason to fear and mistrust you. You must win them over before you sail. A few at least.”

~

I am afraid, she realized, but I must be brave.

ACOK Daenerys II

“The only palace I desire is the red castle at King’s Landing, my lord Pyat.” Dany was wary of the warlock; the maegi Mirri Maz Duur had soured her on those who played at sorcery. “And if the great of Qarth would give me gifts, Xaro, let them give me ships and swords to win back what is rightfully mine.”

~

“I am not the frightened girl you met in Pentos. I have counted only fifteen name days, true ... but I am as old as the crones in the dosh khaleen and as young as my dragons, Jorah. I have borne a child, burned a khal, and crossed the red waste and the Dothraki sea. Mine is the blood of the dragon.”

“As was your brother’s,” he said stubbornly.

“I am not Viserys.”

“No,” he admitted. “There is more of Rhaegar in you, I think, but even Rhaegar could be slain. Robert proved that on the Trident, with no more than a warhammer. Even dragons can die.”

“Dragons die.” She stood on her toes to kiss him lightly on an unshaven cheek. “But so do dragonslayers.”

ACOK Daenerys I

A living dragon is beyond price. In all the world, there are only three. Every man who sees them will want them, my queen.”

“They are mine,” she said fiercely. They had been born from her faith and her need, given life by the deaths of her husband and unborn son and the maegi Mirri Maz Duur. Dany had walked into the flames as they came forth, and they had drunk milk from her swollen breasts. “No man will take them from me while I live.”

~

“We follow the comet,” Dany told her khalasar. Once it was said, no word was raised against it. They had been Drogo’s people, but they were hers now. The Unburnt, they called her, and Mother of Dragons. Her word was their law.

~

Dany kissed him lightly on the cheek. It heartened her to see him smile. I must be strong for him as well, she thought grimly. A knight he may be, but I am the blood of the dragon.

A Game of Thrones

AGOT Daenerys X

“Princess ...” he began.

“Why do you call me that?” Dany challenged him. “My brother Viserys was your king, was he not?”

“He was, my lady.”

“Viserys is dead. I am his heir, the last blood of House Targaryen. Whatever was his is mine now.”

“My ... queen,” Ser Jorah said, going to one knee.

~

“You do not mean to die with him? You swear it, my queen?”

“I swear it,” she said in the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms that by rights were hers.

~

Dany called the Dothraki around her. Fewer than a hundred were left. How many had Aegon started with? she wondered. It did not matter.

~

Her bath was scalding hot when Irri helped her into the tub, but Dany did not flinch or cry aloud. She liked the heat. It made her feel clean. Jhiqui had scented the water with the oils she had found in the market in Vaes Dothrak; the steam rose moist and fragrant. [...] Dany closed her eyes and let the smell and the warmth enfold her. She could feel the heat soaking through the soreness between her thighs. She shuddered when it entered her, and her pain and stiffness seemed to dissolve. She floated.

~

The heat beat at the air with great red wings, driving the Dothraki back, driving off even Mormont, but Dany stood her ground. She was the blood of the dragon, and the fire was in her.

~

No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE?

AGOT Daenerys IX

“Eroeh?” asked Dany, remembering the frightened child she had saved outside the city of the Lamb Men.

“Mago seized her, who is Khal Jhaqo’s bloodrider now,” said Jhogo. “He mounted her high and low and gave her to his khal, and Jhaqo gave her to his other bloodriders. They were six. When they were done with her, they cut her throat.”

“It was her fate, Khaleesi,” said Aggo.


If I look back I am lost. “It was a cruel fate,” Dany said, “yet not so cruel as Mago’s will be. I promise you that, by the old gods and the new, by the lamb god and the horse god and every god that lives. I swear it by the Mother of Mountains and the Womb of the World. Before I am done with them, Mago and Ko Jhaqo will plead for the mercy they showed Eroeh.”

The Dothraki exchanged uncertain glances. “Khaleesi,” the handmaid Irri explained, as if to a child, “Jhaqo is a khal now, with twenty thousand riders at his back.”

She lifted her head. “And I am Daenerys Stormhorn, Daenerys of House Targaryen, of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel and old Valyria before them. I am the dragon’s daughter, and I swear to you, these men will die screaming. Now bring me to Khal Drogo.”

AGOT Daenerys VIII

[“]Do you trust your khas? Will they come with us?”

“Khal Drogo commanded them to keep me safe,” Dany replied uncertainly, “but if he dies ...” She touched the swell of her belly. “I don’t understand. Why should we flee? I am khaleesi. I carry Drogo’s heir. He will be khal after Drogo ...”

~

“Rein in your tongue, bloodrider. The princess is still your khaleesi.”

“Only while the blood-of-my-blood still lives,” Qotho told the knight. “When he dies, she is nothing.”


Dany felt a tightness inside her. “Before I was khaleesi, I was the blood of the dragon. Ser Jorah, summon my khas.”


~

“Is there no other way?”

“No other.”

Khal Drogo gave a shuddering gasp.

“Do it,” Dany blurted. She must not be afraid; she was the blood of the dragon. “Save him.”

“There is a price,” the godswife warned her.

“You’ll have gold, horses, whatever you like.”

“It is not a matter of gold or horses. This is bloodmagic, lady. Only death may pay for life.”

“Death?” Dany wrapped her arms around herself protectively, rocked back and forth on her heels. “My death?” She told herself she would die for him, if she must. She was the blood of the dragon, she would not be afraid. Her brother Rhaegar had died for the woman he loved.

~

“Khaleesi,” he pleaded, “you must not do this thing. Let me kill this maegi.”

“Kill her and you kill your khal,” Dany said.

“This is bloodmagic,” he said. “It is forbidden.”

“I am khaleesi, and I say it is not forbidden. In Vaes Dothrak, Khal Drogo slew a stallion and I ate his heart, to give our son strength and courage. This is the same. The same.”

AGOT Daenerys VII

“You cannot claim them all, child,” Ser Jorah said, the fourth time they stopped, while the warriors of her khas herded her new slaves behind her.

“I am khaleesi, heir to the Seven Kingdoms, the blood of the dragon,” Dany reminded him. “It is not for you to tell me what I cannot do.” Across the city, a building collapsed in a great gout of fire and smoke, and she heard distant screams and the wailing of frightened children.

~

“If your warriors would mount these women, let them take them gently and keep them for wives. Give them places in the khalasar and let them bear you sons.”

Qotho was ever the cruelest of the bloodriders. It was he who laughed. “Does the horse breed with the sheep?”

Something in his tone reminded her of Viserys. Dany turned on him angrily. “The dragon feeds on horse and sheep alike.”

AGOT Daenerys VI

If I were not the blood of the dragon, she thought wistfully, this could be my home. She was khaleesi, she had a strong man and a swift horse, handmaids to serve her, warriors to keep her safe, an honored place in the dosh khaleen awaiting her when she grew old ... and in her womb grew a son who would one day bestride the world. That should be enough for any woman ... but not for the dragon. With Viserys gone, Daenerys was the last, the very last. She was the seed of kings and conquerors, and so too the child inside her. She must not forget.

~

Dany was near tears as they carried her back. The taste in her mouth was one she had known before: fear. For years she had lived in terror of Viserys, afraid of waking the dragon. This was even worse. It was not just for herself that she feared now, but for her baby. He must have sensed her fright, for he moved restlessly inside her. Dany stroked the swell of her belly gently, wishing she could reach him, touch him, soothe him. “You are the blood of the dragon, little one,” she whispered as her litter swayed along, curtains drawn tight. “You are the blood of the dragon, and the dragon does not fear.”

~

“Was it the Usurper?”

“Yes.” The knight drew out a folded parchment. “A letter to Viserys, from Magister Illyrio. Robert Baratheon offers lands and lordships for your death, or your brother’s.”

“My brother?” Her sob was half a laugh. “He does not know yet, does he? The Usurper owes Drogo a lordship.” This time her laugh was half a sob. She hugged herself protectively. “And me, you said. Only me?”

“You and the child,” Ser Jorah said, grim.

“No. He cannot have my son.” She would not weep, she decided. She would not shiver with fear. The Usurper has woken the dragon now, she told herself ... and her eyes went to the dragon’s eggs resting in their nest of dark velvet.

AGOT Daenerys V

She must not flinch or look afraid. I am the blood of the dragon, she told herself as she took the stallion’s heart in both hands, lifted it to her mouth, and plunged her teeth into the tough, stringy flesh.

Warm blood filled her mouth and ran down over her chin. The taste threatened to gag her, but she made herself chew and swallow. The heart of a stallion would make her son strong and swift and fearless, or so the Dothraki believed, but only if the mother could eat it all. If she choked on the blood or retched up the flesh, the omens were less favorable; the child might be stillborn, or come forth weak, deformed, or female.

~

And finally it was done. Her cheeks and fingers were sticky as she forced down the last of it. Only then did she turn her eyes back to the old women, the crones of the dosh khaleen.

“Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!” she proclaimed in her best Dothraki. A prince rides inside me! She had practiced the phrase for days with her handmaid Jhiqui.

AGOT Daenerys IV

The water was scalding hot, as she liked it.

~

The Dothraki would respect him more if he looked less a beggar, she hoped, and perhaps he would forgive her for shaming him that day in the grass. He was still her king, after all, and her brother. They were both blood of the dragon.

~

“Next you’ll want to braid my hair.”

“I’d never ... ” Why was he always so cruel? She had only wanted to help. “You have no right to a braid, you have won no victories yet.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Fury shone from his lilac eyes, yet he dared not strike her, not with her handmaids watching and the warriors of her khas outside. Viserys picked up the cloak and sniffed at it. “This stinks of manure. Perhaps I shall use it as a horse blanket.”

“I had Doreah sew it specially for you,” she told him, wounded. “These are garments fit for a khal.” “I am the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, not some grass-stained savage with bells in his hair,” Viserys spat back at her. He grabbed her arm. “You forget yourself, slut. Do you think that big belly will protect you if you wake the dragon?”

His fingers dug into her arm painfully and for an instant Dany felt like a child again, quailing in the face of his rage. She reached out with her other hand and grabbed the first thing she touched, the belt she’d hoped to give him, a heavy chain of ornate bronze medallions. She swung it with all her strength.

It caught him full in the face. Viserys let go of her. Blood ran down his cheek where the edge of one of the medallions had sliced it open. “You are the one who forgets himself,” Dany said to him. “Didn’t you learn anything that day in the grass? Leave me now, before I summon my khas to drag you out. And pray that Khal Drogo does not hear of this, or he will cut open your belly and feed you your own entrails.”

AGOT Daenerys III

“Wait here,” Dany told Ser Jorah. “Tell them all to stay. Tell them I command it.”

The knight smiled. Ser Jorah was not a handsome man. He had a neck and shoulders like a bull, and coarse black hair covered his arms and chest so thickly that there was none left for his head. Yet his smiles gave Dany comfort. “You are learning to talk like a queen, Daenerys.”

“Not a queen,” said Dany. “A khaleesi.” She wheeled her horse about and galloped down the ridge alone.

The descent was steep and rocky, but Dany rode fearlessly, and the joy and the danger of it were a song in her heart. All her life Viserys had told her she was a princess, but not until she rode her silver had Daenerys Targaryen ever felt like one.

~

“What do you pray for, Ser Jorah?” she asked him.

“Home,” he said. His voice was thick with longing.

“I pray for home too,” she told him, believing it.

Ser Jorah laughed. “Look around you then, Khaleesi.”

But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King’s Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind’s eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind’s eye, all the doors were red.

~

“He could not lead an army even if my lord husband gave him one,” Dany said. “He has no coin and the only knight who follows him reviles him as less than a snake. The Dothraki make mock of his weakness. He will never take us home.”

“Wise child.” The knight smiled.

“I am no child,” she told him fiercely. Her heels pressed into the sides of her mount, rousing the silver to a gallop. Faster and faster she raced, leaving Jorah and Irri and the others far behind, the warm wind in her hair and the setting sun red on her face. By the time she reached the khalasar, it was dusk.

~

There is no privacy in the heart of the khalasar. Dany felt the eyes on her as she undressed him, heard the soft voices as she did the things that Doreah had told her to do. It was nothing to her. Was she not khaleesi? His were the only eyes that mattered, and when she mounted him she saw something there that she had never seen before. She rode him as fiercely as ever she had ridden her silver, and when the moment of his pleasure came, Khal Drogo called out her name.

AGOT Daenerys II

Dany had never felt so alone as she did seated in the midst of that vast horde. Her brother had told her to smile, and so she smiled until her face ached and the tears came unbidden to her eyes. She did her best to hide them, knowing how angry Viserys would be if he saw her crying, terrified of how Khal Drogo might react. [...]

There was no one to talk to. Khal Drogo shouted commands and jests down to his bloodriders, and laughed at their replies, but he scarcely glanced at Dany beside him. They had no common language. Dothraki was incomprehensible to her, and the khal knew only a few words of the bastard Valyrian of the Free Cities, and none at all of the Common Tongue of the Seven Kingdoms. She would even have welcomed the conversation of Illyrio and her brother, but they were too far below to hear her.

So she sat in her wedding silks, nursing a cup of honeyed wine, afraid to eat, talking silently to herself. I am blood of the dragon, she told herself. I am Daenerys Stormborn, Princess of Dragonstone, of the blood and seed of Aegon the Conqueror.

~

She was afraid of her brother, of what he might do if she failed him. Most of all, she was afraid of what would happen tonight under the stars, when her brother gave her up to the hulking giant who sat drinking beside her with a face as still and cruel as a bronze mask. I am the blood of the dragon, she told herself again.

~

“Please him, sweet sister, or I swear, you will see the dragon wake as it has never woken before.”

The fear came back to her then, with her brother’s words. She felt like a child once more, only thirteen and all alone, not ready for what was about to happen to her.

They rode out together as the stars came out, leaving the khalasar and the grass palaces behind. Khal Drogo spoke no word to her, but drove his stallion at a hard trot through the gathering dusk. The tiny silver bells in his long braid rang softly as he rode. “I am the blood of the dragon,” she whispered aloud as she followed, trying to keep her courage up. “I am the blood of the dragon. I am the blood of the dragon.” The dragon was never afraid.

AGOT Daenerys I

The girl pulled the rough cotton tunic over Dany’s head and helped her into the tub. The water was scalding hot, but Daenerys did not flinch or cry out. She liked the heat. It made her feel clean. Besides, her brother had often told her that it was never too hot for a Targaryen. “Ours is the house of the dragon,” he would say. “The fire is in our blood.”

[littlemisssquiggles]

👑About what u said to the anon,about oscar doing more on his own,I think that's true as well,Iv seen the joke oscar going missing each volume is his thing,

It was said the hero's would take a detour be for going to vacuo,an I now strongly believe,there going to Becan not for the crown but to get oscar,

Either Salem will take him there to get the crown or he'll get there by him self some how

…Yeahhh, the whole Oscar disappearing each season has become a running gag with him since V6 since it is a repetitive thing that the showrunners like to do with him as part of his story. I don’t mind Oscar disappearing or going missing from the story, my one issue with this gag is that often more times than none, it does little to nothing for Oscar’s development as a character.

Even now with him becoming Salem’s prisoner and the showrunners thinking it’d be a brainiac idea to have Salem physically torture Oscar, it’s a tad overdone at this point. As a matter of fact, allow me to rant here for bit anon-chan because this squiggly Pinehead needs to get something off her chest regarding Oscar’s current predicament in the show.

I think it’s obvious to say that as a Pinehead, I really didn’t “enjoy” the Oscar torture scene from the fourth episode. My rationale for my disdain of that scene doesn’t just stem from a place of that scene making me feel very, very uncomfortable to watch but…I also didn’t like it for the context of it. 

Why would Salem physically torture Oscar? While I understand that Oscar is the current incarnation of Ozma and Salem has her beef with Ozma---I get that part yet I still find myself asking the same question. Why would Salem physically harm Oscar…despite the fact that physical torture of any kind stands the risk of potentially killing him in the process?

As the observant audience member as I try to be, I was of the opinion that Salem…y’know needs Oscar alive in order to get the answers for the relics that she so desperately seeks.

That being said, why use a torture method that could kill your captive who you know is immortal and you just implied in the same scene that you spent years trying to find him...

“...My long lost Ozma...found at last...”

...Even though…Salem knew that Ozma was Professor Ozpin and she knew that he was at Beacon Academy and...she also ordered Cinder Fall to kill Ozpin back at Beacon and even egged the Fall Maiden to confirm that she did in fact kill Oz back in V4...

I mean....Salem didn’t really do anything to capture Ozma when Professor Ozpin was alive but there she is going after him as Oscar so....yeah...?

This is one of the core reasons why I utterly despise the fact that Eddy Rivas---the credited writer for V8CH4--- wrote Salem torturing Oscar physically. It seems so…odd (for use of a lighter word) of her to do especially when you consider the angle that she needs Oscar alive and if Oscar dies from a physical injury that he sustained while being tortured then Salem would have to start from square negative zero with finding Ozma’s next reincarnation, granted that he even returns within the same timeline.

So…yeah the whole physical torture of Oscar to me now feels like it was thrown in purely for “shock value”. Like if Salem were to actively torture Oscar, I always imagined it would be sparingly while her main means of torture would be mentally torturing Oscar cause at least with the mind, Salem can get what she needs without the risk of killing Oscar as her victim. Not to mention that mental torture is a nice way to prove Oscar’s strength since we know that mentally Oscar is more vulnerable given his strained relationship with Oz. Salem mentally torturing Oscar fit more for his character than physical torture. Same for Salem since I always figured Salem was able to keep her pawns on such a tight lease due to her playing off of their emotional vulnerability.

This is what I pegged from her back in V4 with Tyrian Callows. With Tyrian, Salem didn’t need to resort to physical punishment to hurt Tyrian. All she simply had to say was that she was “disappointed” in Tyrian and that was enough hurt the Scorpion Faunus more than any physical pain could. Salem played into a torture method that’s fitting for whoever is in front of her.

So…why use physical torture on a kid who you know is the reincarnation of your “greatest adversary” who you are fully aware is as immortal as you and any attempt at killing him could render your entire scheme of using him to gain knowledge on the Relics null and void. Especially when you also consider the fact that Oscar was weak in that moment and his aura is broken. So he is going to feel every hit and blow that is dealt to him now which adds onto the point that he could potentially die from any injuries he gets while captive.

So again, I ask the obvious sensible question here---Salem needs Oscar alive so she could get him to disclose the information she needs about the Relic which is within his mind. So why the fudge would you NOT use mental or psychological torture means instead which can get you the information you need without the risk of ever killing Oscar.

The more I think about the Oscar torture scene from RWBY V8CH4, the more I hate it. At first it just deeply upset me because it’s my favourite character being hurt onscreen before my eyes in a moment that could be potentially triggering to certain folks given the circumstance---but now I just hate it because of how nonsensical it feels when you consider the characters involved. But as always, this is just my opinion on the matter.

Bottom-line, I’m not looking forward to any other Oscar torture scenes to come from the upcoming two episodes because my immediate reaction is that I’m going to strongly despise them all and I’m going to despise the writers even more for subjecting Oscar to this kind of ordeal yet again for “shock value”.

As if they haven’t put him through the ringer enough as it is. My only saving grace is that Oscar walks away from his imprisonment with a stronger relationship between him and Oz than previous seasons. 

Either that or…Oscar’s captivity ultimately lends to Ruby Rose being captured by Salem too (since she was a person of interest to the Wicked Witch from since V4 as a Silver Eyed Warrior) and what’s worse is that Oscar’s victimization by the villains is even used as bait to lure out Ruby despite the little prince’s efforts to endure the pain at the expense of never giving Salem the satisfaction of knowing that she can break him.

I’ll discuss more on this headcanon in an upcoming Pinehead Headcanon. But for now, that’s it for my rant on that. Sorry for the small tangent there anon-chan. Regarding your point about the group taking a detour for Vacuo, where was that mentioned?

The only thing about Vacuo I got wind of was when Eddy Rivas mentioned that the group will be in Vacuo briefly. Not sure if that was referring to V9 or the small glimpse of the Vacuo Desert that we glimpsed in last week’s episode, but that’s as much as I know about that.

I can definitely gleam that at some point the group will need to return to Beacon---especially since the Crown of Choice seems to be more important to Salem currently than the Sword of Destruction locked away underneath Shade Academy. But I’m not sure if this means that Salem will have Oscar held prisoner for that long. I’m still hoping for the assumption that Oscar is either saved or escapes Salem by the end of V8.

I would rather it be a case where Oscar returns to our heroes and they end up splitting up again---with one group heading for Vacuo to join their allies at Shade Academy to safeguard the Sword of Destruction while another group heads back to Beacon to join their allies there in securing the Crown. And since Oscar---as Ozma’s current incarnate---is the only one with knowledge of the crown’s true location due to his memories, he would need to be present in Vale.

It wouldn’t surprise me if part of V9 will be spent between Vacuo and Vale. Then again, this is all just speculation.

But for now, that’s how I’m seeing it since, as I’ll stress again, I REALLY, REALLY DON’T WANT V8 TO END WITH OSCAR STILL AS SALEM’S PRISONER. 

Not unless Ruby joins him and V9 is about the two smaller, more honest souls surviving imprisonment together before escaping and trying to journey to Vale on their own to meet up with their friends.

Since V8 showed a division in leadership with Yang going off on her own against Ruby’s direction, imagine if…this volume ends with Yang being forced to take up leadership in Ruby’s place since Ruby got taken by Salem and the heroes have no choice but to leave Ruby (and Oscar) behind as they’re forced to make the tough decision on protecting the remaining relics from Salem a opposed to saving their friends. Or…something like that.

Doubt something like this would come to fruition in the canon but…it would be interesting if it did. Seeing Ruby as Salem’s prisoner too and seeing how the little red rose would handle a predicament like that---being far away from her friends in the witch’s tower, forced to behave herself out of fear that Salem would do more harm to Oscar whose life Salem is still using as collateral against Ruby.

Watching a storyline where a lone Ruby Rose is stuck at the mercy of the main series’ villain and forced to use her wits and trust in her own judgement (which was challenged for this season, mind you) to manoeuvre her way through the villain’s labyrinth of a lair as a means of finding Oscar and figuring out a way for them both to escape captivity together and make their way back to their friends in Vale…I think that would be an absolutely fascinating story to watch play out. Like imagine if that was the narrative for the second half of V8 or even V9? Wouldn’t that be interesting?

I mean…I doubt it’ll be canon but…still it’s worth mentioning here cause…what if…y’know what I mean?

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

[godsofmonster]

Bangtan MC ≽ IV.

Reader x Bangtan- Motorcycle Club

Word Count- 8.9k

Warnings- sexual content, death, murder, guns, drugs, violence, betrayal,  mentions of suicide, mentions of rape, etc.

For as long as I can remember back, I always wanted to be in a motorcycle club. Since I was six years old, the only thing on my mind was getting my hands on a Harley and a cut. I was a wolf, a wild cur, cut from the pack with bloodstained on my fur. Every wrong has marked a debt because a beaten dog never forgets.

My foot tapped against the pavement while I kept shuffling in my seat. The surrounding tables were empty, despite it being lunchtime. I could see over the balcony from my place at the table. My eyes watched down the street for any oncoming cars. I played with the glass of water in front of me, swirling the straw and knocking the pieces of ice against the rim. 

"(Y/n)?" 

I caught a glimpse of his figure from the corner of my eye. I immediately rose to greet him but hit my knee on the metal edge in the process. The feeling tickled my bone and shot down my leg.

I attempted to groan quietly but could not mask the injury in my expression. 

"Are you alright?" 

I felt his hand on my shoulder as I leaned over in pain. Great first impression, I thought. 

"Yes, I'm fine," I replied, sucking up the pain and standing straight. When I turned to look at him, I was taken back by a pair of dark eyes. A set of thick black brows hung over his eyes, matching a head of full black hair cut short on the sides. His skin was tan and his jawline was cutting, I didn't expect him to be so young. 

"Anthony Romero," He said gently, offering his hand out for me to take in a greeting. 

I held his hand and couldn't help but stare at how attractive he was. "Please, sit."

I looked down to take my chair, being wary of the edge of the table, before seating myself. He took the opposite seat across from me, allowing us a moment to settle before speaking, 

"Well, you certainly look the part," He joked lightly, trying to break the tension between us. 

I looked down at what I was wearing. It was a rendition of what I had been wearing this entire week; dark-colored jeans, a Guns and Roses t-shirt, and my leather jacket. It was definitely a 180 to his city boy outfit. 

"I haven't had time to go shopping," I replied, stiffly. Even though, my current style was simply a more mature version of this. 

"Have you looked through the-" He took the menu in his hands, speaking casually. 

"I'm not very hungry." I cut him off fairly quickly. I didn't mean to be rude, however, I was uncomfortable being seen in public. 

I had advised him beforehand, that meeting, and staying out of Blackburn would be the best idea. The town could recognize an outsider from a mile away. In my opinion, the next town over was not far enough. "I'd like to say something first before we begin," 

"Of course," He set the menu down and gave me his full attention. 

There was a switch in his head that brought him from casual to business. I could see it on the night of his eyes. It was almost intimidating.

"I've been working with the DEA for three years, this job has given me a sense of moral direction- if you will," I said, hoping for him to understand where I was coming from. "I've had to leave this life behind a long time ago. I literally left everything here in California."

Romero watched me intently, his eyes searching my being for any signs I could give off. He read my body language, how tense and worried I was. 

"I can still leave all of this behind, but I can not- will not let this club die."

He sighed at my words, sinking back in his seat, as I continued,

"I want to help you take down the Camilo Cartel, but I need to know that our investigation isn't going to hurt the MC."

"(Y/n) I understand your relationship with the club, but you said it yourself, you haven't had a connection to them in seven years." I grabbed my drink, taking a sip of the cold water as I felt my body heat with emotion. "Bangtan has been on ATF's radar for years. They aren't a Robinhood club anymore- they're a gang. One that's been dealing arms to gangs all over California."

"We aren't ATF," I told him bluntly. 

He looked at me severely offended. I knew what my words sounded like to his ears. I had looked at him in the eyes and told him I didn't care. 

"You want us to cut a deal with the club?" He scoffed at the idea. "You know they'd never take it."

"No, I want you to make a deal with me," I tried not to sound demanding, but I needed to be honest with him if this was going to work. “Nothing I say about this club can be used against them.”

"You had a deal," He snapped. He didn't have to raise his voice to make me feel his rage. I could see it in his gestures, the fire burning in his eyes. "Don't forget, you came to work with us so you wouldn't serve a ten-year sentence for heroin possession."  

"The deal was I helped the DEA put away a shot caller," Back when I was shooting up heroin nearly twice a day, I had grown close to a high ranking gang member, who was part of a large network of dope dealers. "I came to work afterward because it was the only good thing I had ever done with my life."  

His stare only became more troublesome. I sighed to myself, also leaning away from the conversation. "I understand if you can't make me this deal. But then, I need you to fire me and find another way to get to the Cartel. I'm not going to destroy this club or let them destroy themselves."  

"You think you can save them?" He asked as if I was filled with senseless hope. 

"If they don't taste this drug money, I think we can," I was stubbornly hopeful.  

"The DEA just wants the Cartel. As long as you help us through the information from Bangtan, we won't prosecute them." Agent Romero stood from his chair and pulled out his phone. "I'll make the call and get you the paperwork."

I could finally breathe easy once he stepped away to make that phone call. Bangtan could never understand my situation, why I would be working with the DEA in the first place. It was everything our lifestyle preached against. We were anarchists. 

Emma Goldman said,

Anarchism stands for the liberation of the human mind from the dominion of religion. The liberation of the human body from the coercion of property; liberation from the shackles and restraint of government. It stands for a social order based on the free grouping of individuals. 

That's what Bangtan was supposed to represent and it did, a long time ago, before it knew the payment of sin. When your life is moved off the social grid, you give up on the safety that society provides. On the fringe, blood and bullets are the rules of the law and if you have convictions, violence is inevitable. When you take action to avenge the ones you love, personal justice collides with social and divine justice. You become a judge, jury, and god. Some people cave under the weight, others abuse the momentum. But the true outlaw finds the balance between the passion in their heart and the reason in their mind. 

Bangtan was lost under my father's leadership. I didn't realize that until I was gone from his side. I hated to admit that maybe, under Namjoon, the club could find their way back. I just had to make sure that happened.

"I'll have the paper ready for you later tonight," Agent Romero said, returning to the table. He pulled the chair out for himself, "I'm hoping to just go over some basic information with you for right now." 

"Alright," I would still be mindful of the information we discussed, nothing would be set until I signed those papers.  

I moved into the front of my jacket, taking hold of a pack of cigarettes that I regretted at the moment of purchasing, but now was grateful for. Romero remained with his phone in his hands, looking through images that I couldn't make out from my seat. 

"As of right now, the number of members in the club is unknown to us. However, we think it's somewhere between twenty-five to thirty." He said, his eyes still trailing over the screen. I pulled out a square from its tight pack, arranging it between my dry lips and flickering my zippo lighter. Romero reacted to the sound, his eyes finding their way to me but not daring to say anything against it. "Of course, there are the eight members who are at the head of the table as of right now- well, seven now,"

He stammered over the sensitive information. Romero looked over my expression for any sign of discomfort. The only thing he found was the nicotine leaving my mouth in smoke form. "Bangtan was established in 1987, all of the original founding members are either in prison or dead. They are what is identified as part of the 1% of motorcyclists that practice in criminal activity for a living."

That was something that Bangtan wore as a patch on their cuts. The 1% patch referred to a comment by the American Motorcyclist Association, that 99% of motorcyclists were law-abiding citizens, implying the last one percent were outlaws. "According to ATF reports, Bangtan established a direct line to a secret Russian group that dealt with firearms. Despite constant observations and raid attempts, they've never been able to catch them with a large possession of illegal firearms."

"Bangtan doesn't cross their money streams, the bar is a legitimate business. They have a separate location for their illegal activity." I said to him. 

They learned that the hard way. The only thing you would find in the bar is watered down alcohol and burner phones. 

"They built a compromise with the Pure Brotherhood fifteen years ago, to keep the drug trade out of Blackburn." My father knew what drugs could do to a person. He didn't want me, or any of the youth in the town to grow up knowing that trouble. 

"Until now," Agent Romero placed his phone on the table and sighed. He knew my words were true and that things were about to get much worse. 

"You have to know, as well as I do, that Bangtan joining the Cartel is a matter of when- not if." I did know. I just didn't want to admit it. "If it comes to supporting a neo-nazi group, who are preparing for the great race war- or an organized, billion-dollar trade. The option is pretty clear to me." 

Romero was right. Supporting a racist organization was never something the club appreciated. It was bad business and the Camilo Cartel was the perfect way out of it. 

"The club knows how commanding Camilo will be. They won't give in without some kind of backlash of other members." I said, hoping that was enough to stall them. 

He didn't seem very convinced by my reasons as a waitress came by with a glass of water for him. He thanked her and ordered something for himself that I didn't quite hear. 

"For you?" She politely smiled at me. I waved her off with a hand gesture, trying to be as pleasant as I could. 

We observed her leave the balcony to place his order. Romero set the notes of his phone away and began to ask me questions.

"What can you tell me about the local law enforcement?" There wasn't much to say.

"They obviously don't appreciate the sense of authority the club has over the town. But they have let a few things slide from time to time." I took another drag, a deeper one than before. "Are they going to assist in this investigation?"

"We'll have to let them know so that they don't interfere with anything." It was just courtesy but I didn't trust the Blackburn police. Bangtan would definitely have cops who were on their side. 

"How is your relationship with the current members?" A combination of the question and the nicotine made my hand tremble.

"I went to school with some of them. They're rather polite to me because of my father." I'm sure he wanted more detail than that. 

"What about your step-brother? Namjoon Kim?" 

"It's complicated," I said growing sick of the cigarette in my hand, tossing it to the floor. 

"Can you get close to him?" I looked Romero in the eyes and knew what his words meant. 

However, with our history, his words took on a whole other meaning in my head. A twisted smile appeared on my lips. 

"Yes, I can." 

-

After I met with agent Romero, I retreated to my crappy motel. I sat on my standing Harley in the parking lot and dreaded entering the depressing space. Then I recalled the comment Romero had made about my outfit. I decided against entering, taking his advice, and putting my father's money to good use. 

I left my bike parked at the motel and went on foot to the nearby boutique shops. I might have been raised by bikers, but I liked to think I still had decent taste in fashion. At least, when it comes to dressing myself, I'll wear anything as long as I can put my leather jacket over it. 

I stared at the racks filled with hanging clothing, the colors arranged in no particular order, made me feel discouraged. There was nothing but low-cut blouses that would slip off the second I hit 20 miles on my bike. I was pleased to find pants that weren't ripped or acid dipped. This particular store also had a fine selection of vegan leather. It wasn't as nice as real leather, but it was certainly cheaper. 

"Hey, (Y/n)." 

I didn't recognize the male voice at first, but when I turned around, I was greeted by a sunny smile. Hoseok was standing a few feet beside me, and Yoongi was just behind him. "Doing some shopping?"

"Uh, yeah," I responded, placing the brown leather jacket in the pile of clothes I had already picked out. I turned to face them a little more before asking, "What are you guys doing here?"

I specifically referred to the fact that this was a female boutique. The two of them looked humorously out of place in their leather cuts, standing in the small, soft-colored store. 

"His sister's back in town," Yoongi responded fairly bored. 

"I wanted to get her something," Hoseok explained further. I assumed he had dragged Yoongi along for some reason. "But honestly, I have no idea what to look for."

Hoseok looked a little flustered in his expression. I sensed that he was entertaining the idea of me offering him guidance. I suppose this could be my chance, to put my fashion senses to the test.

"Well, what does she like?" I prompted, hoping he would have some kind of outline for me to think in.

 "She's really into fashion but I don't know what size she wears," He said. His hand lazily pushing through the rack of clothing, like he didn’t know where to start.

"If that's the case, you can get her accessories," I told him. I figured that would be easiest for both of us. My eyes peered around the room, remembering having seen some stuff earlier. 

I spotted some things hanging on the wall on the other side of the store. I advanced in that direction with Hoseok trailing behind me. We pushed through some racks of clothing to reach the large wall of accessories. 

"There are hats and scarves,” I said, reaching out to touch some of the fabrics. Jewelry also hung in packs and pairs, the false metal reflecting the sunlight. “Maybe not this jewelry though, it looks cheap."

Hoseok chuckled as he eyed the things on the wall. Any of the things on the wall didn't seem too horrendous. I even kept my eyes open for anything I might like. Most of the wall was fool’s gold of necklaces and earrings. The bottom shelf held hats, nothing I found particularly interesting though. Some of the items looked to have been savaged by kids who could reach. That only left the scarves. They were dangling, one after the other, rows and rows of them. I came across a silk scarf that was cool to the touch. 

"Look at this," I said, getting Hoseok’s attention. It was a square shape scarf, with berry colors of flowers and patterns. "These colors are in right now, since it's almost autumn. The silk also won't stick to her in this California sun." 

"Yeah, this looks nice." He sounded satisfied with this item. He fiddled with the material in his fingers and then found the price tag. "$80?!"

I knew that silk scarfs were expensive, especially in a little boutique like this one. I patted his shoulder and gave him a fake empathetic look,

"That's the price of beauty," I joked. 

"As if this scarf is going to do all the work," He responded, a little annoyed. 

Hoseok settled on the scarf as a gift, regardless. I felt content with the hangers in my hand. It was enough clothing to keep me from looking like an angsty adolescent.

"I didn't see your bike parked in front," Hoseok mentioned as we strolled together to the register. 

"I'm staying at the motel nearby," I replied vaguely. Hoseok stood back and allowed me to put my things down first. I greeted the woman politely and turned back to look at them.

"That lousy place down the street?" Yoongi then questioned. Just by the look on his face, he seemed to know exactly which one."That place has roaches." 

"Thanks for reminding me," I bantered lightly. I should definitely look for a better place, I thought as the woman began to scan my items. I leaned against the counter, my feet aching a bit from just being up and around. 

"I thought Namjoon told you to stay at his place," Hoseok said, recalling the exact moment. 

"The prince doesn't always get what he wants," I shrugged. 

Then I failed to hide the sneer on my mouth as I found myself to be hilarious. I made eye contact with the other two also, only Hoseok smiled at me, while Yoongi awkwardly nodded his head. I thought they were a strange pair as I searched for my wallet on my person.

"Well, you should check out my new Harley," I was admittedly intrigued by Hoseok's offer. I located my purse in the depths of my jacket and peeped his way. By the look on his face, I could tell he was excited to show off. He was like a child in a candy shop.

"Oh, yeah?" I was interested to find out more. My eyes scanned the monitor of the register for my final price of the clothing. 

"Year model," He beamed proudly. 

I counted the bills of twenty in my hand before handing them over to the women. I grabbed a hold of the three large paper bags where my purchases had been stuffed into. Hoseok set the dainty scarf on the register next. 

"You still got your Deluxe, Yoongi?" I asked out of curiosity, recalling just barely the bike he used as a prospect. He simply nodded his head as an answer. 

I had been thinking of getting myself one a while back. I loved vintage style bikes, especially when they had modern engines. 

"Yeah well, I left the cruiser for a street bike," Hoseok remarked as we waited for him to finish paying. 

I thought a bike could say a lot about a person. I personally liked cruiser bikes over any other style. However, everyone in the club had their own preference. Jimin and I had a similar taste in bikes. We mostly found interest in the same Harleys, except that he owned a Low Rider, which was a billiard blue color. 

"What is it? An Iron 833?" I guessed. Thinking, in my head, that it was a well-suited bike for him. 

"Close," Hoseok laughed, as he took hold of a smaller version of my bags. We all began to walk toward the exit, the woman wishing us a good day. "It's an Iron 1200, solid black." 

I had an idea of what that bike looked like, but I had yet to see the new model for the year. "I just picked it up yesterday morning,"

Yoongi held the door open for me to step out first. Hoseok was still speaking in my ear as they followed out the door of the shop. His talking came to a soft silence as we were faced with the two member's Harleys. Their bikes were parked right in front of the boutique. Except, it appeared that Hoseok's new Harley was being used in a photoshoot.

There was a pair of strangers, a man who was posing on the bike with his motor racer jacket. A woman stood in front of him, trying to capture the image on a cell phone. 

"Take the damn picture, already." He cursed at her. The man looked annoyed every time he wasn't posing for the picture. 

"I'm trying," The blonde woman responded. She sounded very apologetic like she didn't want him to get upset with her. Like she knew what would happen if he did. 

Before I could even think to look at the boys, Hoseok was handing me his shopping bag. I took a hold of it and followed behind them as they approached the scene.

Hoseok walked up the woman as Yoongi circled his bike. 

"Here, let me do it." Hoseok smiled at her, gently taking the phone from her hands. The woman looked startled. 

"Shit," She was wide-eyed. "I-I told him on to,"

"It's all right," Hoseok was sympathetic to her. I came around to her side, gently taking a hold of her arm and guiding her away from the position.

Hoseok’s eyes rearranged to look at the man. "He looks like a guy that knows how to get what he wants,"

She followed my advice and stepped aside with me. Now seeing her face more clearly, I took notice of the healing injury on her mouth. "Did you do that to her lip?"

Hoseok questioned casually. The guy didn’t seem alarmed by any means, not even when he stepped toward him.

"Bitch has a mouth on her," The man said chuckling. He spoke to Hoseok as if he would understand where he was coming from. "You know how it is, right?" 

"Yeah, I do." Hoseok laughed, returning the man's smile. I was painfully aware of how close Hoseok was getting to him. He, who still hadn't moved from his seat on the bike. "So you like Harley's, huh?" 

"Well, they look good," He replied, patting a handprint on the metal of the gasoline tank. That made even me. even a little angry. "But I'm more into the slant bikes, for their speed." 

I eyed the Kawasaki Ninja 300 that was parked a few spots over. There was no way this couple was from Blackburn- people around here knew better. He was in for a rude awakening. 

"Right, right." The courtesy in Hoseok's voice brought an uneasy feeling in my stomach. He looked back down at the phone in his hands and tapped the almost sleeping screen. "Here,"

He said, holding the phone up to take the picture of the man. Yoongi stepped around his bike, standing right beside Hoseok. "Say cheese,"

I almost felt bad for the guy who dared to smile for the picture. After the phone clicked, Hoseok handed the phone to Yoongi. 

"That's before," Yoongi muttered loudly. 

It wasn't until then that the man noticed something wasn't right. 

"Before?" He asked. 

Hoseok grabbed his helmet off the handlebar. He gripped it tight in his hand as he used the back of it to swing a blow to the guy's face. The single impact was strong enough to make him drop off the Harley. He landed on the cold, hard ground. Blood was draining from his nose and into his mouth.

"Don't ever sit on another man's bike," Hoseok spat. 

"Oh my god," The blondie gasped beside me. You couldn't fail to recognize the giggle in her voice. 

"Shut up, bitch!" The man barked as he was still struggling on the floor with pain. 

Yoongi stepped in as Hoseok went to take care of his bike. He swung his boot into the man's rib cage, making him groan and spit out his own blood. 

"A little respect for the ladies," He warned, squatting down to get a good angle on the man's phone. The shutter of the phone went off again, capturing the man's new state of humble. "That's after."

Yoongi stood back on his legs and allowed the phone to slip from his hands, hitting the floor. 

By the time I thought to check on the blondie next to me, I caught her gawking eyes at Hoseok. I was half surprised to see Hoseok returning the look. He leaned forward on his bike, 

"So, where are you heading?" He flashed her a killer smile.

"Oh," She blushed under his stare. Her fingers fiddling the ends of her clothing as she tried to remain casual. "Nowhere special," 

"Me too," He smirked. Looking the girl up and down before gesturing his head behind him, "Hop on, angel."

This girl wasted no time hesitating. There was even a little kick in her step as Hoseok handed her the helmet he had just used to break her boyfriend's face. I stepped forward to return Hoseok's gift as she straddled on behind him, slipping the helmet over her face. I lost interest sometime before they exchanged names. 

I glanced at the man still laying on the ground. His eyes were wandering over the blood that stained his hands in disbelief. I imagined the blow to the face had left him a little hazy in the head.

"Why don't you let Yoongi give you a ride, (Y/n)?" Hoseok then suggested. The engine of his new bike began to roar. 

The thought wasn't well-received in my head. I had a personal ordeal with men seeking to have me on the back of their bikes. Though I was well aware this wasn't the situation, I couldn't help but be hesitant. 

"Unless you want to stay with the likes of him," Yoongi pointed out, motioning his head to the unfortunate figure on the pavement. 

He gave me the time it took to light his cigarette to think about it. I wasn't afraid of that guy, not after what Hoseok did to him, not after what I had tucked into my jeans. But I figured avoiding the confrontation would be beneficial for everyone. 

"Alright," I said stepping off the sidewalk into the street.

Yoongi left his helmet on the handle of his bike for me to grab. Unlike mine, he had a half helmet that would only serve my brain on a platter if we crashed. I adjusted the loose straps around my chin and switched all my bags to one hand. 

"Better hold on, princess." Yoongi teased as I mounted the seat behind him.

"Don't call me that," I groaned, starting to get irritating flashbacks that made me doubt my current judgment.  

The engine of his Harley trembled under me as I hooked my free hand around his waist. 

His Delux wasn't necessarily meant to hold a passenger but we weren't going very far. I had to scoot in closer to his body, to make sure the weight distribution wasn't too off-center. Many inexperienced riders don't know the difference between riding solo and with someone else. In addition to the extra weight, a passenger changes the center of gravity and how the bike rides. Though, I was certain it wasn't the first time Yoongi had company during a ride. 

"Gem?" I heard the man call over the rumble of the motor. "Gem!"

We were already backed into the street, Hoseok obnoxiously hit the gas on his bike. Yoongi and I followed closely behind him, leaving the man to stumble onto his feet. 

The motel was roughly five minutes away from the shop. Hoseok and his new friend accompanied Yoongi to drop me off. Riding in the back reminded me a lot of being young, I would beg my father to take me for a spin. I would wrap my arms tightly around him, as my head rested on his back. Down these same roads, he would drop me off at school or take me for ice cream. It didn't help that I stared at Yoongi's cut the entire way. Those were some memories I didn't visit very often because they saddened me. Now, more so, than ever. 

The Harleys pulled up in front of the motel. Hoseok parked just beside my bike. Yoongi pressed on the break gently, allowing the bike to come to a complete stop, before planting his feet on the ground. I freed his torso from my arm, adjusting my other grip around my shopping bags, before patting his shoulder.

"Thanks for the ride," I said a bit stiffly. I had to depend on Yoongi's shoulder for stability as I attempted to unmount the bike. 

"No problem," He spoke, still maintaining a cigarette in his mouth. 

He took his hands off the handlebars and rested back in his seat. "I'm sure you could have handled yourself,"

His comment fell ghastly on my ears. I transferred my bags to my other hand, my left-hand aching from having been gripping them as I watched him. 

"I mean, I've seen what you could do with that foot." He said, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and between his fingers. He was clearly referring to the night I arrived when I lost my temper with that PB member. 

"Yes, well, I have my old man's passion," I replied calmly. Though, something in Yoongi's stare made me feel a bit uneasy. His words were hinting at something else. 

"And you're pretty passionate with a gun." The way he looked at me when he said that it was full of doubt. Our eyes correlated, and I felt like his black orbs could see right through me. 

"It reminded me of a cop,"

 A shiver crept down my spine, and my shoulders fell heavy. My manner of confronting that PB member screamed police to any outlaw. My impulsiveness had kept me from thinking that through. 

It was the first time I was being questioned about it. I thought it had slipped by everyone's mind, but not his. 

"Did I scare you that bad, Yoongi?" I teased, trying to react the way I normally would. "I'm just cautious like the rest of you," 

Yoongi didn't appear to be swayed by my words. He brought his cigarette back to his mouth, his cheekbones hollowing in as he took a drag. I was debating on waiting for him to say something else, or on trying to keep justifying myself before Hoseok cut into our conversation. 

I had never been so grateful for Hoseok's existence. 

"Yoongi," Hoseok called out in front of us. We both turned to look at his place still sitting on his Harley. 

We then realized that Hoseok was gesturing to the other side of the lot. We followed his gaze over to a set of people by the sidewalk. 

They were too far away to distinguish any particular details of their identity. However, it looked like two males that were having an eager conversation. I noticed their head kept turning from side to side, and they couldn't keep still. Just when I began to think that it was nothing, one of them reached out for a handshake. 

No one was supposed to deal in Blackburn.

"Jesus Christ," I caught sight of Yoongi flinging his cigarette in a fit. He beat down his kickstand with the bottom of his boot, before making his way off the Harley. 

"Looks like PB," Hoseok stated, accompanying Yoongi's action. 

When he unmounted his bike, blondie gave him a confused stare as she reached out to touch his hand. Her eyes like a lamb gazed at Hoseok sweetly.

"Stay put, angel." He said, using the touch to bring her in closer. He gently touched her chin and planted a kiss on her busted lip. She smiled, uncertain by his words but agreed, regardless. 

"Let's go," Yoongi called, his hand reaching behind him. Without drawing his weaponry, he maintained his hand resting on the handle of the gun under his leather cut. I followed in his footsteps, unsure of what I should do in this situation. 

 Should I attempt to interfere? Or will there be a shoot out right here?

I set my bags on the floor before catching up to Yoongi who was already by Hoseok's side. 

The hooded man remained standing at the end of the parking lot, near the street corner. His customer had vanished but he was still occupied with his cell phone. 

Hoseok noticed me trailing behind Yoongi, 

"Keep an eye on her," He told me, gesturing his eyes to the scared woman on his motorcycle. 

I had to babysit his groupie? 

I stopped where I stood, just beside Hoseok's Iron. I could see blondie looking in my direction, but I was watching Hoseok and Yoongi approach the standing figure. I forced strands of hair away from my line of sight. I could feel my heart begin to beat against my chest. My limbs become stiff as stone. 

I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do in a situation like this. This was my first event as a field agent, and I was about to let a shootout take place. With a liability sitting right next to me. 

"What's going on?" She urged me, but I neglected her completely. 

The hooded figure was so distracted he didn't take any notice of the impending threat. The two members quickened their steps, Hoseok dawdling just a little more ahead of Yoongi.

Without warning, Hoseok skulked behind the body, his arms both wrapped tightly around the torso. It was like a kidnapping scene. He used his large hand to shield the man's mouth. The force of Hoseok's legs pulled them back as he was able to dominate him easily. Yoongi kept his eyes peeled for any potential bystanders as they stumbled their way against the wall of the motel. The wall cast a shadow and provided them with coverage from the view of the street. 

"Oh my god!" Blondie gasped in disbelief. 

She took a hold of my arm in panic. She pulled on my arms as if she wanted us to run. Her frenzy state pestered me greatly.

I yanked her hand from my arm, my fingers clutched around her wrist tightly. She heaved at the pain, I could feel her pulse quickening against my fingertips.

"You make a fucking noise," I hissed at her between my teeth. Her eyes remained full of fear as I pushed her from my hold. "It'll be your last,"

Her eyes followed my actions as I withdrew my Glock from its cover on my hip. She froze with fright, only continuing to remain silent in her place.

I guess I wasn't very good at being a good guy.

The next I looked back, Yoongi was holding the barrel of his gun against the guy's head. He was still fighting against Hoseok's restraint but he was becoming more frantic and less functional. Yoongi's lips were moving, saying words that were too far away for my ears.

Just then, as if things couldn't have been complicated enough; I noticed an oncoming party. Approaching from down the sidewalk was a large white man with a bald head. His arms revealed a clash of tattoos, the only one that I needed to make out was a black swastika peering out his shoulder. He also wasn't shy about the gun tucked in the front of his jeans. He appeared to be searching for his lost friend.

"Shit," I cursed to myself. I had to do something.

I took a moment to look back at blondie, making sure to be as intimidating as possible when I warned her. "Don't move from here,"

I took off immediately, my feet moving at a jogging pace. I attempted to not appear alarmed. I discreetly lead my gun to my side, trying to go unnoticed for the time being. I made it to the end of the parking lot, sitting between me and the sidewalk was a few bushes at waist level. 

Yoongi and Hoseok were preoccupied with the man in front of them to worry about their surroundings. 

The bald man was only a few steps away from reaching the corner, where he would surely find his buddy taken captive.

I moved closer toward the building, both parties coming more clear in my line of sight. If he makes it around that corner, he could catch them by surprise and gain an upper hand quickly. One of the boys could get injured for sure.

I had to follow my instincts. 

I leaned into the bushes for more security. They couldn't have been more than fifteen feet from me. I clutched the metal weight in my hand, raising my arms and seeking to find aim. 

Aim small, miss small. 

I concentrated on the man's shoulder. I took in a deep breath to steady my hands. He was getting bigger with each step. When I exhaled the breath from my nostrils, I pulled the trigger. 

The gunshot rang through the open air and into my ear. Blondie's scream echoed somewhere behind me. The man stumbled on his legs, he clutched his right bicep and his face tore with shock.

Yoongi found me by the bushes. He quickly recognized that my target wasn't far from them. 

My victim quickly discovered me at the end of the sidewalk. He reached for his firearm, but at that moment, Yoongi stepped out of the shadow. He pulled two quick shots before the man could ever hold up his gun. 

He tumbled onto the floor, his legs giving out at the bullet that pierced his foot. The second one ripped through the flesh of his arm and caused his gun to fall from his grip. 

I ran up behind Yoongi, I kept my gun drawn and pointed at the fallen form. With my foot, I stretched for the dropped pistol, dragging it across the cement into my area of reach. I was able to pick it up with ease after that. 

The bald man stared at me with hate emitting from his eyes. He spit at my feet.

I noticed Yoongi's eyes on me, as well. It was almost as if he was conflicted by my actions. With a nod of my head, I assured him that I had their back. Whether he believed me or not, he returned to the current situation.

Hoseok remained holding down the other guy who, was still yelling through his muzzled mouth. His face was red and his eyes were watering with anger and fear. Hoseok released his mouth after the bastard threw a bite at his hand.

Yoongi had enough.

He pushed his hair out of his forehead and, in that same step, hurled his fist to the guy's jaw. Yoongi growled at the impact. He left the man silent in Hoseok's arms. His nose was dripping blood, a gash on his cheek also overflowed with the red liquid. 

"Tell me where the PB is cooking the meth!" Yoongi demanded.

He cocked his gun and pressed the pistol against the fabric that covered the man's genitals. The man cried, he begged Yoongi to not pull the trigger.

"Now, you son of a bitch!"

Hearing it was hard enough, I couldn't watch it.

"I-In Blackburn! In Blackburn!" He ratted instantly.

My stomach churned at his answer. I looked at the scene unfolding beside me. I could see Hoseok and Yoongi were as startled as I was.

"They've got a lab down Riverside road! I-It's an ugly little red house- you can't miss it!"

Yoongi freed the man's crotch from gunpoint as Hoseok shoved him onto the floor. Hoseok stepped around the man's body and came directly to my side. I maintained my aim on the other guy, who was still sitting on the floor, blood oozing out of three different wounds. 

Hoseok rested his hand on my shoulder, gently guiding my arm to lower my gun.  

"Let's get out of here, angel." He whispered sweetly. 

His words somehow managed to ease the knots of tension in my chest. I took a breath of relief and handed him the extra gun I had confiscated. Hoseok smiled at me and tucked the gun away from my sight. He then put his hand on my back, escorting me back the way we came from. 

We had no problem turning our backs to them. They were both disarmed, one was bleeding out, and the other was frightened beyond recognition. There was no need to stick around for the police to show up. If those two guys were smart, they would find a way out of here before they came. The Blackburn policemen would know what happened to them and why.

Yoongi followed right behind us. I could hear his footsteps on the pavement as we strolled toward our bikes. From where we were, I could see blondie was still sitting on Hoseok's Harley.

Except, she appeared to be making a phone call.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." I groaned. Hoseok noticed my gaze and soon saw the same thing I did. She saw us walking in her direction and quickly hung up the phone. 

She looked frightened when we finally approached her. She swung her leg over the bike, getting off on the opposite side of us. As if the Harley would keep us from getting to her. I allowed Hoseok to handle her. 

"Sorry about that, angel," Hoseok's voice was something dangerous. He leaned his hand on the handle of the bike and smiled. "Who was that?"

"M-My boyfriend," She stuttered, trying to not buy into his enchanting smile, not after what she just witnessed. "He's coming to pick me up."

"Good," I muttered. I locked eyes with her for just a moment while I passed by to pick up my shopping backs. I imagined I had traumatized her enough for one day.

"That's too bad you've got to go," I could hear the suggestiveness in Hoseok's voice. 

I walked past Yoongi's bike to my own. I had never been so happy to mount my Harley. The way the engine roared when I turned the gas made me shiver with delight. I walked the bike backward, turning slowly to line up beside Yoongi's. Who was taking advantage of Hoseok's flirting to light up another cigarette.

I followed in his thought and tried to locate the same pack from earlier. 

"I didn't expect you to step in like that," Yoongi suddenly muttered as he stood next to his bike. 

I took the smoke between my two fingers, putting the pack back on my jacket pocket. I held it between my lips and fiddled with my lighter. 

"You didn't think I was trying to arrest you?" I mocked. 

I flicked the lighter a few times, a flame igniting out of the chamber. I held the frame between my palms and used my fingers as a shield from the wind.  

"I'm trying to thank you, here, princess." He sighed.

I smiled and brought the fire to the end of my cigarette. I sucked in the burning tobacco, quickly flicking the lighter shut. 

"Go ahead," I smirked as I held the smoke in my lungs. 

I could tell Yoongi didn't do this very often. His brown eyes glared at me from underneath his black lashes. 

"Oh, forget it." He hissed, inhaling another drag.

Yoongi held his cigarette between his lips and turned his back to me. He mounted his own bike and called out to Hoseok. "Let's go already!"

Hoseok seemed to be working his magic on blondie all over again. He was still leaning on his bike, and she had taken a few paces closer to him. She wasn't scared anymore.

If it wasn't for the obnoxious speed bike coming down the road, Hoseok would have probably been able to convince her back to his place. The black and green bike came to a screeching stop. His face was covered by a full style helmet, so we weren't able to see the aftermath of his humbling experience. 

Hoseok stood up straight, a smirk jeering onto his lips as he viewed the new arrival. Blondie looked over her shoulder and gave Hoseok a sympathetic look. She didn't want to leave now. 

Hoseok grabbed her hand, bringing her knuckles up to his lips. He sent her away, drifting on a cloud. 

Blondie slipped on her matching helmet, before mounting his motorcycle. 

"Ready?" Yoongi asked sarcastically. 

Hoseok's smirk remained on his face as he climbed on his bike. He was just on time as we began to hear police sirens off in the distance. 

"Ready," He replied. 

-

We had made it to the lot of the House of Cards without any trouble. The other handful of Harley's left in the front indicated a full house inside. Standing along the wall of the entrance, Taehyung held a conversation with Yeonjun as he smoked. 

I followed the boys in parking alongside the other bikes. Removing my open-face helmet from my head, I relieved myself of the pressure of its protection. 

"Prospect!" Yoongi called from his place, on his Harley, beside me. 

I set my kickstand down, resting on my bike as I watched Yeonjun leave Taehyung's side. He was wearing his prospect cut over a dark blue flannel, his feet moved quickly, down the open lot. Taehyung remained against the wall, finishing his cigarette alone. 

Once Yeonjun presented himself in front of us, he took a moment to acknowledge me with a smile. Before Yoongi demanded his attention,

"Listen closely," He said, also removing his helmet and slumping in his seat. "You're going to take (Y/n)'s bags, go to the motel on 15th street and check her out."

It made sense that I couldn't stay there after the disturbance. If what the man said was true, it meant that the PB was already taking action against the club. Blackburn wasn't safe anymore. 

"Grab all her things and bring them back here." 

Yeonjun nodded his head in understanding. Both his hands reached down to feel around in his front pocket. From his right one, he pulled out keys to his Harley. 

"Woah!" Taehyung came up behind the young prospect. He reached around him and snatched the keys from his hands. "Who said you can take your Harley?" 

Taehyung stuffed the keys into his pocket and wore a grin while his lips still held his cigarette. 

"Oh come on, Tae," Yeonjun attempted to not sound too annoyed. He sighed, " It'll be easier if I-"

"I bought you a brand new bike, Yeonjun." Taehyung's voice was teasing. "Don't be ungrateful." 

Taehyung took the smoke from his mouth and watched the poor boy give up. I could hear Hoseok chuckle from the other side of Yoongi. I was questioning what they had him doing this time. 

Yeonjun left without another word. He walked toward the back of the bar, I lost sight of him as he disappeared around the corner. Taehyung was left with a permanent grin on his mug. He then turned his attention to the three of us that remained on our bikes. 

"Where are you all coming from?" He asked. We were an odd combination to anyone who saw us.

"We ran into some trouble while shopping," Hoseok replied. He set his helmet on the seat of his bike as he rose from it. "And we picked her up on the way." 

"Lucky me," I quietly joked. 

"What kind of trouble?" Taehyung seemed to be more interested in that. 

Hoseok sighed as he removed his leather gloves. He stuffed them into his front pocket and slowly advanced toward his friend. 

"The kind that we should bring up at church," Yoongi replied. 

Hoseok slipped his arms around Taehyung's shoulder and reassured the gravity of Yoongi's words with his slow head bob. His brows furrowed as he adjusted the bandana that was holding his hair back. 

"Everyone's here now," Taehyung informed him. "I'll let Joon know to call a meeting." 

Yoongi joined the rest of the boys in standing. I was the only one who remained mounting my Harley. 

There was no doubt in my mind that they were going to discuss forms of retaliation. With the new information, it would have to be something powerful. It was going to be a declaration of strength. It was already long overdue. 

"Check it out," Hoseok suddenly called. He was laughing as his eyes were staring down the back of the bar. 

My mouth dropped as I finally got a glimpse of what he was referring too. Literally, on a brand new bicycle, Yeonjun came pedaling down the sidewalk. It was painted black, with rainbow streamers and a gold horn. Yeonjun looked miserable wearing a matching rainbow helmet.

My soft giggle was masked by the loud laughter of Hoseok and Taehyung. They were barely breathing in between the enormous amounts of joy. Even Yoongi failed to conceal the smile on his face as he shook his head in disapproval. 

Yeonjun had no other choice but to accept his cruel fate. 

He came into the parking lot. He stood on his bicycle right beside me, staring at his laughing elders. I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him my most honest look of compassion.

"I'll take your bags now, (Y/n)." The bitterness in his voice was adorable. 

"Thanks, hun." I handed him the shopping bags. "All of my things should be in a backpack on the floor."

He pushed the bags up his arm so that they rested in the crook of his elbow. I also pulled out and handed him my room keys, making sure to give him the money to pay for my short time there. 

"Be careful prospect," Hoseok said. He sounded sincere at the beginning of his statement. But he ultimately couldn't hold back his urge to make jokes. "Don't get a speeding ticket." 

Taehyung broke out laughing all over again. His arms came hurling at his crime partner. The actual image of Hoseok's words killed him. I had never seen them laugh so hard. They looked like a pair of schoolboys. 

"Yeah, yeah," Yoenjun muttered. 

He took off, down the parking lot exit without saying goodbye. Hoseok and Taehyung continued to tease him even as he rode off. They yelled out a combination of mockeries and whistles. 

"Come on!" Taehyung cheered. "Honk your horn for us!"

A distant sound of honking down the street melted my heart. It sent the two boys into another giggling frenzy. One that continued as they turned to walk toward the entrance. Only through the doors is that it finally dissipated from my ears.

Yoongi and I were the only ones who remained. Like me, he watched the pair wander off into their own world.  

"Idiots," Yoongi muttered to himself. 

I was amused by his criticism since he participated in their laughter just moments ago. Yoongi slowly turned my way. His eyes noticed that I had failed to make any sudden movements. 

"You coming in, princess?" He questioned. I tried to accept the new nickname but continued to not endorse it.

"I will," I said, reaching for the whereabouts of my phone. I held it up for him to acknowledge. "I'm just going to look for a new place to stay,"

He didn't need any other form convincing than that. He gave me a single nod and retreated to follow the boys inside. I watched his slim figure walk down to the entrance. He must have sensed my eyes because he looked back before opening the doors. All I could do was send him a wave and a barely visible smile.

I needed to be alone to make this phone call.  

I pressed the phone to my ear and hunched over the fuel tank of my Harley. The ringing made me anxious as I coped to remain calm after everything.

"Yes, Ms. (Y/n), I've just received your final paperwork. You'll be happy to know, the agency has agreed to all your terms just as long-" I had to cut him off. 

"That's going to have to be activated as of right now because I have something," I still kept aware of my surroundings, making sure my voice wasn’t too loud.

I looked out for anyone, even just bystanders on the street.

"What did you find out?" His voice asked instantly.

"They have a possible chance for retaliation, with location and everything," I muttered into the phone, still trying to remain vague for several reasons. 

"Listen, (Y/n), we need to be there when they make their choice. Stay on the club- when they move, so do we." He spoke to me sternly. His voice wasn't comforting at all. "Do you understand?"

Bangtan's next moves would decide the future of this club. Their alliance with the PB was beneficial. Did they have the necessary tools to cut that deal on their own? Or were they going to turn to Camilo for help?

I sighed.

"Yes,"

Masterlist ≽

[hinabes]

Inarizushi’s Backstory

A story about hubris, expectations and a surprising amount of worldbuilding.

I. Priestess

“The Inari God has descended!!!”

“It’s the Inari God!!”

“The Inari God has descended!!!”

I opened my eyes to the sound of excited cheering. Humans, dressed in the garb of clerics and priestesses, worshipped on bent knees, the excitement in their gazes genuine.

I looked down to assess myself.

When I was a part of the Chaos, I was to believe that when we were incarnated in this world, our appearances would be determined by our basic intentions.

...Unless the summoner had strong pre-existing obsessions.

“Lord Inari, these are the things we’ve been protecting.”

According to him, this Inari shrine housed holy relics of utmost importance, and if they were destroyed, catastrophe would befall Sakurajima, where we were.

Even though I was slightly annoyed, I looked at his earnest expression and nodded.

So be it, since you summoned me from that boring Chaos, I’ll fulfill your desires.

The man was elderly by human years, with a long white beard flowing from his chin; he looked kind and gentle.

It was just that when he looked at me, it was as if he were actually looking through me at someone behind me.

That must have been their so-called “Inari God”.

The Inari God ought to be true to themselves, to be revered.

The Inari God ought to maintain purity, to resist any and all filth.

So said the old man constantly, and he respected me very much.

Alas, that was restricted to when I acted like his ideal “Inari God”.

“Aw, shucks~ Come see me again, okay? Master Ninetails~”

The courtesan’s soft fingers brushed against the back of my hand. Her alluring smile and longing eyes were calculating, though I didn’t hate it.

After all, when it’s all the same drinks and service smiles, everyone prefers to do it with someone gentle and caring, who understands their heart’s desires.

“Ah, might you be the Master Ninetails whose been in everyone’s good graces lately?”

The voice was teasing and flippant. I turned to look up and the way his long sleeves dragged on the crimson stairs caught my eye. Though it was formalwear, the way he donned it was casual, draped loosely over his shoulders.

The way his eyes crinkled was even more attractive than those of the beautiful courtesans. I raised my head slightly regard him, and when his playful eyes met mine, I understood that this guy was the same type of person as me.

“Master Ninetails, shall I have a drink with you today~”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Eh-- Boss, you can’t be hogging all the business~”

“Then today’s drinks are on you.”

“Fine~ I won’t disturb you~”

Chin propped up on my hand, I arched my brow at the young man who pleasantly shooed off the girl.

“You’re the owner of Shangri-La?”

“What is it? Scared?”

“Nothing, let’s drink.”

I stalked back to the shrine in the dead of night, and was greeted by the old man’s anger the moment I stepped through the torii gates.

“You went to that filthy place again, in this disgraceful form!”

I gave him nothing but a humorless sneer.

To say that returning to my original appearance and doing the things I want to do was filth?

Ridiculous.

II. God’s Intermediary

“Pfft-- You’re saying, you take the female form in the day and pose as their pure Inari god? And you can only return to this form at night to drink and let loose?”

Junmai Daiginjo held in his chuckle, though I was helpless to the humorous glint in his eyes.

Once we got to know each other, his original stunning demeanor didn’t get any less impressive, though, in front of me, he did get livelier and more… infuriating.

In the time I downed the wine in one gulp, he had his elbow on my shoulder.

“Man, in my opinion, what if you left those boring guys and joined my Shangri-La? With your looks, Ninetails, if you took female form, you’d give me a run for my money as Oiran. Though… the male body isn’t bad either. How about you be a man for a day, woman the next!”

“Shoo, keep flattering yourself.”

I irritatedly shook off his hand and side-eyed Daiginjo, already rolling in laughter. Propping my chin up, I gazed at the still sky outside and let out a long sigh.

I didn’t dislike the female form and even liked looking like a woman sometimes.

But… these days were certainly… quite boring…

“You- You- You! You stubborn bastard! Going to that indecent place again! Associating with those filthy people! And that smile, that unbecoming smile!! You!!! Undress and cleanse yourself under the waterfall!!!!”

Even with the flame of his life flickering out, the old man mustered the energy to butt heads with me. My smile dulled, the good mood I built up at Shangri-La ruined once more.

It was winter. Icicles had formed at the top of the waterfall, the water rushing down sticking my clothes to my body. Seeing the old man angrily looking at me, I couldn’t help but shake my head and close my eyes.

It’s not that I wasn’t grateful for him bringing me into this world, and it’s not that we had only bad memories between us.

He brushed my hair gently, he made my soft bed, he prepared my favorite tea.

But he did all this because of his faith in the Inari God. Not me.

So be it, he was my master attendant, I’ll have to do as he pleases. He was already so old, I could think about leaving after sending him off.

Humans really were fragile.

Weak, powerless, feeble.

Fingers thin as twigs laid on the back of my hand. His eyes were already clouded.

“Inari… You’re the Inari God, never forget, you are the Inari God!” “Rest assured, since you revere me as your God, I will assume a God’s duties to the end.”

“Hearing that… puts me… at ease…”

The clerics and priestesses ducked out of my way as I left the room, and they spoke in tones they thought I couldn’t hear.

“Heh, this monster really thinks it’s a god.”

“Tch, as expected of the old fool.”

“That’s right, now we can chase him out! Then the Inari shrine is ours!”

“Yeah! Then all the offerings… hehe…”

“But… they’re for the gods…”

“What gods, the old fool was the only one who believed in them.”

Hah, filthy humans.

Gods aren’t all joy and happiness, they feel rage too.

Blasphemous, to have never respected the gods.

And to be blasphemous is to invoke divine punishment.

III. Monster

The people of this land had long since forgotten what the gods bestowed upon them.

The gods granted them plentiful harvests, bestowed them peace.

Yet the people neglected to pay respects, to be thankful.

And the food souls who came to this world to aid them received no such respect either.

“Hah, monsters should be dealt with by monsters.”

“Hmph, such monsters, if only they’d die sooner than later!”

“Hope they get rid of each other. Saves us from having to look after them.”

Daiginjo looked at the dark sky weighing over their heads as he drank, his brow furrowing.

“Why is it, that we’re the ones with power, yet we have to hide in the darkness and take the form of those weakling humans and pretend… by right… we’re supposed to be protecting them…”

That’s right… Why is it, when we’re the ones protecting them, we don’t get even a word of thanks and are labeled monsters…

“Since they’re calling us monsters anyway, we should act like it, shouldn’t we…”

Daiginjo chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

I knew that this was his invitation for me to join his world of monsters.

I can never tell what he’s thinking, though that didn’t get in the way of us being friends.

His every word was playful, though each of them I took to heart.

The humans, pampered for far too long, had forgotten their respect for the gods.

As such, another face of the gods shall restart their memory.

I didn’t even have to sully my own hands.

I needed only to take a back seat and watch as the monsters born from their own desires swallowed them whole.

One blood-red night, towering flames engulfed the red shrine.

The mournful cries were muffled by the wind, the blood splattered on the ground scorched black.

When I stepped into the shrine, the cleric who once called the old man an “old fool” grabbed me by the ankle.

“Lord Inari… save me… save me…”

“And for what?”

“I…”

“Bold of you to ask for divine salvation, having never paid the gods any respect. Save yourself, foolish human.”

“...Monster!!!! You’re a monster!!!”

If I have to become a monster for you to remember what you’ve done, then so be it.

IV. Under the Shrine

“Woah, what a thorough burning.”

Daiginjo rubbed his chin, taking in the destruction. I sat on some surviving stairs to drink, watching the humans hard at work, rebuilding the shrine for the gods.

In hindsight, it was pretty funny; while the shrine was standing, the humans paid the gods no mind. Only when disaster befell them had they remembered the gods they forgot.

And only when the “monsters” stopped unconditionally helping them had they remembered the respect these “monsters” were due, building altars and presenting offerings.

Bored, Daiginjo returned to Shangri-La, and only I stayed to watch them work, yawning as I sat on the debris.

“Um… Lord Inari… We found a hidden entrance in the shrine… come look…”

“Hm?”

“We’re… too scared to go in, please come take a look…”

“Alright, it’s quite late, you can all take a break.”

“Also...the… monsters in the fields…”

“I’ll deal with them tomorrow.”

“Thank you, thank you!!!”

Before, I would have never heard this “thank you”.

With a long sigh, I cleared my head of my many laments and headed for the hidden entrance.

It was dark and cold, and I was surprised to discover such a large space under the shrine.

Tucked away underground, in the deepest reaches sat a single altar.

I wanted to investigate, but I was stopped by a huge amount of energy.

Even more unexpectedly, I found the energy oddly familiar.

I reached out to touch the barrier. Flowing through the barrier… as I thought, it was the energy that plucked me from the Chaos initially.

At the center of the barrier, encased in black smoke… could it be…

That guy… To protect the relics, he forcefully stripped away the huge amounts of energy in the summoning process, trapping the food soul that was supposed to be born within the pull of this energy.

If that’s the case… perhaps…

V. Inarizushi

Junmai Daiginjo was dumbfounded. In the time he took to get drinking snacks for his pals, Inarizushi ended up with a mean-looking fox kit glued to him.

“...An illegitimate child?”

“Daiginjo, don’t think I won’t hit you.”

“Ahem, I mean, where’d you find it.”

Thump--

With a muffled thud, Junmai Daiginjo hit an invisible wall while walking towards Kitsune Udon.

“Ow--”

“Don’t you touch Master Ninetails!”

“...Hoh, the little devil’s protective. Ninetails, be honest, where’d you get it?”

Inarizushi glanced at Daiginjo, who was rubbing his forehead, then at Kitsune Udon, who was gripping his clothes and hiding behind him, and laughed.

“What if I said they fell from the sky?”

“Fine, I’ll drop it if you don’t want to tell. Come have a drink, a birthday toast for the kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Hmph, what a kid.”

“I’m not!”

Inarizushi shook his head resignedly, helping himself to Junmai Daiginjo’s wine bottle. He turned his head to look at the pitch-black sky outside distractedly. 

“What are you looking at, Ninetails?”

“Nothing. Don’t you think this sky could use some sprucing up?”

“...Heh.”

“What are you laughing at? Don’t you think so?”

Junmai Daiginjo shrugged, clinking glasses with Inarizushi, downing the clear wine in one gulp. He gazed at the sky tenderly, yet there was an underlying apathy.

“Boring things are better off discarded.”

Junmai Daiginjo turned his head to see Kitsune Udon pouring wine for Inarizushi and he quirked an eyebrow in surprise.

“You taught me that. What of it?”

Junmai Daiginjo propped up his chin to observe Kitsune Udon lapping at the wine when they thought nobody was looking.

“Uh… Nothing, the wine’s a bit strong, a kid who just fell from the sky shouldn’t drink so much the first time~”

As Junmai Daiginjo finished speaking, Kitsune Udon downed the rest of the wine, letting out a long burp, head falling to the table with a thud.

“I heard… this part of Sakurajima is protected by relics, and if they’re destroyed, catastrophe would certainly fall.”

“That’s right, what of it?”

“Then this...the key of this kid from the sky, I wonder what it will unlock?”

Inarizushi stopped patting Kitsune Udon’s hair to look at Junmai Daiginjo, who was smiling pleasantly.

“Do you have to know so soon? I don’t want to lose a drinking buddy so quickly.”

“I’m not in a hurry, it’s not too late to think about it once other artifacts have surfaced.”

“You’re not scared of me running off?”

“Master Ninetails is high and mighty, he’d never. Come, have another cup, this is Shangri-La’s best wine! I don’t bring it out for anyone but you.”

“Hoh, great, cheers!”

Translation Notes

(SHOVES INARIZUSHI ASIDE) A SURPRISING AMOUNT OF WORLDBUILDING

The Chaos, which I’ve also referred to as “chaotic energy”: it’s a very vague word to begin with and can mean both. I’m more convinced it’s a real “thing” now, wouldn’t go so far to say “place” but it may be the other side of the Tierra fish (it’s also called Chaos)

It may have something to do with the greek creation myth? idk

Now we know that 1) food souls come from there, 2) they’re told(?) things there, 3) they’re self aware there, 4) its boring

funtoy please give us more concrete stuff i dont want to keep grasping at straws

KITSUNE UDON REAL. funtoy please steal my design xoxo please i will pay u

the 2nd half of ch4 was pretty vague but I’m fairly certain that the black smoke/whatever’s in it was kitsune udon

I’m also not sure if kitsune udon is a separate character or inari’s fox. his art doesnt show him with any foxes but neither does it show nine tails

i also have no idea kitsune udon’s gender so i went with they. there’s literally not a pronoun to be seen in the last chapter bc chinese be like that

i’ve decided to call junmai’s brothel “shangri-la”, you might also see it called “bliss” or “paradise”. it’s more specifically the sukhavati of buddhism

[sailorshadzter]

Prompt: Sansa fending off Jon's lady suitors asking for his hand because of his birthright. She knows Jon does not want to be troubled by marriages right now. Could be Sansa vs. Margaery vs. Dany

this is me continuing to tackle these ask box prompts. 

set with the understanding that jon has been named KitN, recognized as Rhaegar’s heir, and thus the real ruler of the iron throne. sansa is his unofficial hand & she’s doing a fucking fantastic job at it. obviously. ive written something else with this plot before, so it was fun to come back to it!

thanks for the ask, anon! sorry it took forever and ever and ever lol

send me prompts

"A letter, my lady."

Sansa looks up from where she sits at the desk in Jon's solar, more like hers these days, though Jon hangs around much like a shadow. In fact, right then he's settled into the window seat that overlooks the center courtyard- a window which he knows he can see her rooms window from- with Ghost napping at his feet. "A letter?" Jon inquires when Lord Royce has stepped from the room with a quick bow in their direction. Jon may be the King in the North and recognized as the true heir to the Seven Kingdoms, but the Lords of the North respect their Lady of Winterfell as if she were the queen. And she would be, if she would only accept it, though that is a matter for another moment's thought. "You've already received three this morning." He observes, rising up from where he sits, disturbing Ghost so he might come to stand just behind where she sits at the desk. "Who's it from?" He lowers himself onto the corner of the desk, leaning in as she flashes a grin before breaking the seal she already recognizes.

"The Tyrell's." She replies after reading the first several lines of soft, flowing script. "They too have a bride to offer the rightful King of the Iron Throne." This is the third letter that's arrived upon her desk this week in regards to a potential marriage, a potential ally in the form of Westeros' most powerful families. "Margaery's grandmother, Olenna, of course offers her granddaughter so we might secure an alliance." Margaery Tyrell had once been Sansa's only friend in all of King's Landing- she had taken her place beside Joffrey and managed to survive. She married Tommen Baratheon afterwards- she was still yet Queen of the Iron Throne, even with a boy as her husband. Tommen would die two months into the marriage, brokenhearted they said by the mess with his mother and the High Sparrow, he threw himself from a window.

Sansa would never wish harm upon a child, but she wishes she had been there to see Cersei's face when she learned of her son's death. All of her children were lost to her and Sansa wonders what she lives for now, beyond claiming the Iron Throne as her own.

Jon rolls his eyes at her words, lips curving into a frown, bringing another smile to Sansa's. "The Tyrell's would be a powerful ally to your cause," she reminds him, though no one really needs reminded of the wealth that family controls. "But fear not, I know how you feel." She goes on, reaching out to gently pat his knee. What she doesn't say is that she's happy he's so adamant about not marrying. "I will handle the Tyrell's as I've handled all the others." Jon knows he can trust her to handle any issue without fail, how she manages to run things so smoothly he'll never quite understand. She's opinionated and firm, yet understanding and sympathetic; her people love her, perhaps more than she realizes.

"You are, without a doubt, the best," he leans in enough to press a kiss against the top of her head, which stains her cheeks pink in the most adorable of ways. "I have a council meeting, will you join us?" He asks and she blinks, perhaps surprised by the invitation, for this was a meeting about far more than just the North. "I would like to hear your thoughts on a few matters, I mean..." He goes on, grinning somewhat sheepishly, reaching up a hand to run through his unruly curls.

After a moment, she nods and rises up from where she sits, smiling when Jon offers her his arm to take. Looping hers through his, they make their way out of the room and down the hall to the main stairwell, which of course leads them down to the center hall, where at the end is the great hall where every meal, every meeting, takes place. "Afternoon, my lords," Jon greets as they sweep into the room, finding their places at the head table. "The Lady of Winterfell will sit in with us today." Their is no objection of course and more than one Lord would later say how their King and their Lady ruled well together, looking like an impressive couple behind that head table. In fact, there would be many who might even say they look quite like the late Eddard and Catelyn Stark. " Now the first matter there is to speak of is the white walker spotted..." Jon begins and thus, the council meeting begins.

In her chair beside Jon's, Sansa reminds herself to reply to the Tyrell letter before she retires for the even, her usual response already in the back of her head. Until the matter of the Night King and his army is finished, the King will remain unmarried.  It offers the receiver proof that Jon Snow will be a king who seeks peace, who will fight for his kingdom, as they watch him fight for the North now against the Night King.

As Sansa had watched him fight for her.

[rainingincale]

I just saw your tags on the "harry was oppressed" post. Might elaborate on that when you are not tired? How Zayn was oppressed? His relationship to ot4. Other celebrities? I love your thoughts!

*cracks knuckles* buckle your seat belts folks we’re in for a wild ride here lmao.

also for context *here* is the post this anon is referring to

I think to start off i should just make a little disclaimer, everything i am going to discuss will be based in my biases probably seeing as I am also a brown British Pakistani person who is Muslim. Zayn has been someone that especially when i was younger I looked up to and was very essential in my journey of learning to love and accept myself and my culture tbh. It’s cheesy as hell but it’s true and i think this is important to know before I go into this more because like I said i am definitely biased towards him. Another thing is that I’m just going to be discussing my personal opinions and also my memory is not very good so i will probably miss out a lot of other things that happened/could be discussed. please dont take this as anything more than just. my opinion.

A thing that really opened my eyes to racism and especially the racism in the 1d fandom was the day that zayn left. I dont think thats what the post above was about btw and ill go into that but i kind of just want to talk about this. The day he left was. a severe mess. Not only because it was obviously upsetting but because of all the bs that people were spouting about a situation that absolutely no one had any context on. the statement that was released on facebook gave us nothing. literally just stated that zayn was leaving the band and the accusations and hatred people were directing towards zayn when we didnt know what actually fucking happened (and still dont might i add) was disgusting. people accusing him of being selfish and how they hated him and why he had to ruin everything. Accusing him of using mental illness as an excuse and lying about it and so much more. i had unfollow more than half of the people i followed that day. it really opened my eyes to the fact that these were all thoughts and opinions people had underneath it all and zayn was fine as long as he was part of 1d and giving people what they wanted. which was essentially being the token in the group and once he wasnt providing that anymore? people turned and people turned fast.

i think its also important to point out the flip side of it and that was zayn stans saying that 1d were nothing without 1d etc. i want to talk about why this was different from ot4 stans hating zayn. of course it wasnt nice to see or hear EVERYONE arguing with each other. i hated it so much. but i think what people failed to realise was that when it comes to situations like this you need to look deeper and think about all the nuances of the situation. zayn stans being happy about zayn leaving the band and saying 1d was going to die i did not agree with. anyone who knew me then and knows me now knows that i am a 1d stan regardless (preferably ot5 but i supported 1d until the end even as a 4some) BUT these opinions were rooted in his mistreatment in the band and the racism he was having to face as a result of being in the band etc etc i apologise for not being a person who can better describe and explain this situation but hopefully you are getting the picture. when fans were hating on zayn. with no context with nothing. that was based on racism. point blank. the amount of tweets FROM 1D FANS talking about how he was leaving to join isis and how upset fans were gonna be vulnerable and join etc etc all this deplorable bs. and he had to deal with comments like that throughout his whole time with one direction and i imagine even now. 

Another thing id like to talk about is who zayn stans at least from my point of view usually were. For me i remember when i first got into the fandom i actively made the decision that i didnt want zayn to be my favourite because i didnt want to be a stereotype and this was a point in my life when i still tried to shun and push my culture down because i was ashamed of it. it was only as i slowly saw that zayn was considered as cool and hot and everyone else liked him that i kind of understood that maybe. being brown was alright and it was something cool and that maybe i was cool. it sounds fucked up and honestly i dont even know if i want to be admitting this so adamantly but argh if it helps someone understand then maybe its worth it. (mortifying ordeal of being known eh?) anyways i noticed as i engaged more in fandom and looked for more diversity, more fans like me, majority of non white fans were also... zayn stans. and honestly it makes sense because we all tended to flock towards the closest diversity we could find it seems. im not saying that there werent white zayn stans and that the other boys didnt have non white stans but i just wanted to point out this trend. so when you also take this into account and the fact that on the day zayn left it was majorly... white stans who were criticizing zayn it puts it in perspective for you. majority of fans who still like and support zayn are also not white.

there is a lot more to do with fans but hopefully thats enough of an insight and you can understand the kind of vibes that were present during 1ds prime and what not only zayn had to go through but also as a result the racism we ended up having to deal with as well tbh.

now!!!... something i dont really like talking about lol so this will probably be short but the other boys. so as far as i can remember liams always been kind to zayn since hes left (no surprise there <3 also please correct me if im wrong), niall was kind of indifferent/didnt say anything really, and then there was louis and harry *awkward smile*. hahaha. from my memory i remember when asked about what the most difficult thing was about zayn leaving harry said ‘the paperwork’ which was *awkward smile* and he also kicked that monkey mask/pinata? i cant remember with naughty boys face on it and honestly im sure theres more but his overall reaction to zayn leaving was kind of not caring and maybe being slightly nasty which :) with louis there was the massive twitter fight which literally tears my soul in half so lets not go into that haha and honestly other things where it maybe seemed like he was upset with zayn leaving as well. honestly i am a bit in two minds about these reactions because at the end of the day we dont know what occurred behind the scenes and we probably never will as much as we can speculate or whatever. not to mention that this 10th anniversary it seems maybe everyones on good terms which, who knows really im going to try be optimistic. i think whats important to note about heir reactions is that we dont know anything about their situations but the problem was really how fans reacted tbh (btw i forgot to mention earlier this is about basically everything except for harry and the nb thing. that is inexcusable). the boys reactions were understandable but the problem is that fans of course vicariously are influenced by the boy they stan so when one of them acted a certain way of course that ended up reflecting in fandom and resulted in more racism etc. 

another thing with zayn was that there were many files leaked with like promo or whatever basically describing what kind of role the boys would take on/ their image etc. and of course all the other boys got things like bubbly/funny/charming etc and zayns descriptors? moody, mysterious, dark horse etc etc like from the inception of 1d zayn has been victim to racist stereotypes being pushed on him. and i think this is where harry comes in because of course the image pushed onto him was also extremely harmful and i definitely dont think we should not talk about that but often you'll see that... thats all that is talked about because people are uncomfortable admitting racism and talking about it. 

When i mentioned other celebrities my point was basically just that while ive only talked about zayn in one direction this... is so present among any and every fandom. 5sos, Little Mix, Fifth Harmony... any fandom you can think of, i promise you it is there. racism in fandom is a real thing and a big problem and honestly this is why i always say representation is so important. and when i say that i mean everywhere!!! because if I didnt seek out non white fans to follow then maybe i would’ve had a completely different perspective on all of this.

The thing is also that a lot of this is just stuff that we’ve been able to get our hands on and also fan analysis and theories etc. there is probably so much more to talk bout or go into or stuff we’ll never even know about. I’ve kind of had to make peace with the fact that with celebrities you just really don’t actually know anything about them.

I think i’ll end this here if there’s any more questions you have about anything feel free to ask! and again this is all just my opinion  but hopefully i’ve been able to help answer you <3 have a nice day and i hope youre hydrated!!!

[oveliagirlhaditright]

I've noticed there are at least 15 main installments of Final Fantasy, but the only ones I see people mention are Final Fantasy 7, 8, 10, and 15. Is there a reason the other game aren't as popular?

Buckle in, honey. Because I’m probably going to go overboard with this. I’m sorry. But it’s the best I can think of to explain it all.

So… full disclosure. I have not played I-VI. All I know about them is from the Dissidia games–where the main characters of those games show up and talk about their games some–and what I’ve read on Wikipedia. I also know a bit more about VI because of cultural osmosis, as that’s one of the more popular Final Fantasy games (and I have watched a teeny bit of VI online). And one day, I do hope to go back and play them all. But any information I get wrong about those ones–though I hopefully won’t–is because of this. And I apologize for it in advance.

Also, you should know that the Final Fantasy fandom is very vocal. And since every game pretty much reinvents the wheel–and everyone has a different game where they started and that is their favorite–everyone has their own idea about what a Final Fantasy “is” and “should be”. And if they get a Final Fantasy game that doesn’t meet that criteria for them, they usually hate it–and will tell anyone and everyone–and think that it “doesn’t feel like a true Final Fantasy”… Like, for years now… pretty much with any new game since X, or maybe even back as far as IX, people hate on it for years… only to years later realize that maybe it wasn’t “so bad, after all, because really the new thing is that bad”. Rinse and repeat.

Okay, so a little history here: Sakaguchi is the father of Final Fantasy, and was involved with I-X (though not as much on X, because I believe he was also working on the “Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within” movie at the time. More on that in a minute), back when the company was “Squaresoft” and not “Square Enix”. Around the time they were making X, Sakaguchi decided to try and make a fully 3D Final Fantasy movie–and to release it in theaters (The Spirits Within)–and that movie bombed hard. It’s actually one of the biggest financial failures in cinema history, sadly. And Squaresoft would have gone under because of it, if rival company Enix–mainly known for the Dragon Quest series–hadn’t agreed to merge with Squaresoft, thus turning the company into “Square Enix” as we know it today. And even though it wasn’t all his fault (if any of it? Because surely there were bigger studio heads who okayed everything and maybe even pushed for it themselves), Sakaguchi ended up having to take the wrap for the whole Spirits Within disaster and left the company, if I recall correctly, but really he had to leave, I think. I’m sure he was really fired, under the corporate niceties and stage show.

But you definitely have your purists, who only like I-X (or sometimes only I-IX) and think that Final Fantasy died when Squaresoft became Square Enix and when Sakaguchi left the company.

Speaking of which, I-VI, Final Fantasy VI is an extremely popular game. And that might actually be most people’s favorite after VII (some even like it more than VII). And people are clamoring for a remake for it, too. Like, the heroine Terra is an amazing character who goes through more than any other Final Fantasy heroine, apparently (as she was used as a weapon–as she’s super powerful–by the games’ villain for most of her life until she finally rises up against him). And she’s also the first technical female lead in a Final Fantasy game. People also love the villain, Kefka (and if you go on “What Final Fantasy Bosses do You Want in Kingdom Hearts?” threads, he’s always the one who gets the most votes), who’s this pure evil clown, who loves being bad and just wants to watch the world burn. The Joker, essentially. And he’s the only Final Fantasy villain to succeed: he actually does destroy the world, and you’re then playing in a post-apocalyptic place for half of the game. The character Celes even tries to kill herself over this… I think people like this game because it’s super dark (though not without light moments and humorous things, of course) like VII is.

Final Fantasy IV is also well-loved, but I don’t know enough to rank it in people’s eyes. I through III were pretty bare bones, it seems like (maybe moreso I and II) and with black and white morality. IV was the first game to go away from that, somewhat. As your main character, Cecil, who starts the game as a paladin turns into a dark knight(?). And while at first he’s despairing about this, he then realizes he can still be a hero and use his powers for good? And people adore the Cecil/Rosa ship, that perhaps started there being Final Fantasy romances. This is also a tragic tale about two brothers pitted against each other… There’s also the character Kain, that Riku’s character is probably based on and ideas from this game in general? Or maybe it’s Cecil that Riku’s based on. I forget.

VII is probably, hands-down, the most popular Final Fantasy game (though sometimes the people who love VI–and even IX–can really debate with the VII people. So they’re probably close to being tied). And I think this is because VII was the first to do a lot of things: The first to use 3D graphics (that were something to behold at the time), the first to be on Playstation, the first one that really got people in America interested in Final Fantasy and RPGs in general (largely because of the commercial for it, I’m told? That made people go “What?! There can be an actual story in a video game?! Let’s check this out!”), and certainly because of the Aerith thing. Aerith was not the first character to die in Final Fantasy. But since VII was a lot of people’s first FF–and you couldn’t bring her back; and the developers made a conscious decision to keep it that way for many reasons–this really hit gamers. And is why Aerith’s death is probably the most iconic thing in video game history. The game also did a good job of making her mean everything to you and then feel her absence, since she was your best healer and no one could really take her place after that. This game meant a lot to Sakaguchi, because he wrote it after his mother died–as he was trying to understand life and death… and why it all happens the way it does, and to find some closure there–and I think that you can feel that in the game, which is why it’s so special to so many other people, too. If you’re interested, Super Eyepatch Wolf does a great job of explaining why Final Fantasy VII is such a big deal in this video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9V68GCZ61Rc

I actually don’t hear that much about VIII anymore? I’m not sure it’s as big as a fan-favorite as it used to be, but I could be wrong.VIII is starting to turn into a black sheep of the franchise in some people’s eyes, it would seem. Mainly because the Junction battle system… is broken (though this was really no one’s fault. As I understand it, the designer behind it fell ill before the game came out and never got to finish it properly). And since some don’t like that this game is a romance between Squall and Rinoa more than anything else (some also don’t like Rinoa and think she’s a major damsel in distress in their opinion), and that Ultimecia is evil and wants time compression… for reasons? But to be fair, a lot of early Final Fantasy villains were evil just to be evil. And apparently this game is the anti-VII in some ways? As Sakaguchi or Kitase (I forget which one) said they got a lot of criticism about FFVII when it first released (which is weird to think of now, since now everyone sees FFVII as the greatest thing ever), so they decided to address those criticisms in VIII and made it the opposite of VII in many ways. But there are definitely many who are still all about VIII. Don’t get me wrong. And a lot of Kingdom Hearts fans, trying out FF for the first time, probably go to the ones with characters they know first (I know I did). So VIII is still probably touched for that reason, if not for many others as well. People still wonder if Cloud or Squall is stronger, etc. And for a while, VIII was my favorite. It’s not anymore, but it once was.

IX is the dark horse in this series that might actually win a lot of things. Most people who have played it seem to love IX–I know I do–though not everyone played it, because many were turned off by the cutesy art style at first (IX was sort of a return to basics, as it was a celebration of all the Final Fantasy games that came before it since this was the last Playstation 1 game). But this story’s a lot darker than some give it credit for… One of the darker ones, maybe. Most people who played IX actually list it as their favorite–in fact, IX was voted as the most popular FF game to Japan’s players recently–and many want this game remade, too. This is also Sakaguchi’s favorite in the series, and what he thinks Final Fantasy should be. And there’s just so much heart, fun, and love in this story (Zidane and Garnet might even be my favorite FF couple for how well they’re written). If Sakaghuchi had to leave the company, it’s probably at least nice that he left it on this note (because he was involved in X, but not as much as with this).

I think X is so popular, because this was also a “first” for many people. It was my first Final Fantasy game, in fact (and a lot of people’s in that generation). But it was the first for Playstation 2… the first with voice acting, the first where you could switch party members in battle, the first that had a direct sequel to it, etc. And many believe Tidus and Yuna is the best written romance in all of Final Fantasy, and there’s a good chance that it is. It also has one of the most tragic endings ever, that makes everyone sob when they get to it. Hey. But Final Fantasy X is just a great game, all-around (story, theme, and gameplay-wise. X, like VII, revolves around life and death and cycles). It really is. Though you still have people who hate it (as there are those who hate every single game), usually because they despise Tidus or just look at things like the laughing scene out of context. X might be my favorite Final Fantasy. A lot of the time, the first FF you played ends up being your favorite, though not always (I like it, IX, VII… and XIII and XV, God help me). Edit: And Yuna is everything good in this world. She’s always a favorite Final Fantasy heroine to everyone, for sure. And I think she actually is Japan’s favorite Final Fantasy heroine.

I can’t really talk about XI or XIV, as they’re MMOs and I don’t play those… so these are actually the FFs I know the least about, probably? But I know some think think they’re the best. Well, Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn, that is. The first version of XIV was a fucking disaster and had to be completely reworked.

Final Fantasy XII is dismissed a lot of the time (though there are those who think it’s the best example of transitioning FF to modern times, doing things that XIII and XV just didn’t think to do or even seem to think to do). Final Fantasy XII is very political, and I think that’s why it’s not talked about much: as there’s a good chance it just went over your head when you played it. I know it did for me, originally. There also really isn’t romance in it (at least not much, and you definitely see the slight romance that is there moreso in the sequel). But they definitely tried something new with this one, and if that paid off or not is up to you. But if you can understand it, the writing in this game is actually pretty genius. Final Fantasy XII was plagued with the issue that VIII had, though, where one of the key people behind it got sick at the time, so all of their ideas didn’t come to fruition. Like, originally Vaan and Penelo were supposed to be much more fleshed out than they were… that didn’t happen in FFXII itself, but did in its sequel “Revenant Wings” (which is so underrated, and the best sequel in all of FF, imo).

XIII… XIII is the black sheep of the franchise, for some reason. And I have no idea why. I loved this game and thought it was fine. More than fine, really. I swear this game wouldn’t be as hated as it is, if the Internet didn’t exist, tbh. But people despise it because it’s linear… when every Final Fantasy game before it was also linear? You were just tricked into thinking they weren’t. And sure XIII could have hidden its linearity better, but meh. People also aren’t big on there being no towns and side quests, even though story-wise it makes sense: you’re the enemy of the goddamn world, so of course you’re avoiding towns and people. People also think the game’s convoluted, but I think most FFs are. Look at FFVII, for goodness sake! And people just don’t like the characters, because they base it on how they are at the start of the game. And they’re all awful and hate each other at first, but that’s the point: because they all develop and grow into better characters, and are a family at the end of it. There are also those who despise the battle system… I’ve heard many say that if you look at this game as its own thing, it’s fantastic. But that if you look at it as a Final Fantasy game, it’s terrible… which I guess could make sense? But I also, personally, don’t see it that way? I guess I’ve just never been one of those “A Final Fantasy game has to be this way, and if it’s not then it’s not a Final Fantasy game to me and I hate it” kind of people. Because I know FF is always about reinventing itself, but whatever. But like with any Final Fantasy, there are also those who adore this one. There are always those who love one, and those who hate it. XIII was also littered with a lot of problems across development–like XV–and probably would have been even better than it was, if that hadn’t happened. Like, I think Nojima wrote the script for part of this game–or at least helped with it–but not all of it. And he’s credited for writing the scripts of most fan-favorite FF games. He also wrote the script for the end of KHI, all of KHII, and part of KHIII, apparently (many think that if Nojima came back for KH, that would fix things there, too–which I could see and maybe mostly agree with, but even he’s not perfect... He also wrote the script for Versus XIII, but not XV, which probably explains a lot. And he came back and wrote the script for FFVII again with the Remake, which is probably why it’s so great).

XV is the game that started its life as Final Fantasy Versus XIII–originally directed by Tetsuya Nomura–but soon after it became FFXV, Nomura was kicked off the project and Hajime Tabata became its new director. And Tabata, it would seem, made a lot of changes to the story (which is why Nomura’s so pissed off about it, and now trying to put his Versus XIII ideas into Kingdom Hearts). But it wasn’t really his fault. The company was breathing down his neck that this had to be the game that “saved Final Fantasy and console gaming in Japan”. And Versus XII was, apparently, the darkest game in the entire Final Fantasy franchise (and it was going to be rated “M”, as opposed to FF games usually being rated “T”), which is why it wasn’t a numbered title originally. So I can get why Tabata probably thought he had to change it to make it moreso appeal to the masses, or was probably even told to do so. I think FFXV is a good game. I do (as do many. XV was actually a lot of Nomura lovers’ first FF game, for obvious reasons). It’s still one of my favorites… for some reason. But the main issue with this game–especially at launch; it’s somewhat better now–is that it was not a complete story, and there were so many holes in it. And you can just tell that this story was rewritten again and again and again. And important plot things are just not told to the player… probably because the developers thought the player knew, because they surely had told them in earlier drafts. But I can still feel what this game was going for, and the heart of it, which is why I like it, I guess. It’s actually a pretty hot debate–of which game is better in people’s eyes: this one or XIII–and I can get both sides of the argument. I like both. And as I’ve said above… as there’s always a camp that loves and hates every Final Fantasy game, there are those who despise XV: for they see how messy its story was… or don’t like the gameplay (as it probably is the most removed from how FF games usually play) or the setting… and some even weren’t big on how dark this game still was, and didn’t think it felt like a FF to them for that reason. 

Yep.

And if you actually got to this point, I thank you… and I’m also sorry for all of this.

Edit: I should also probably mention that originally, most Final Fantasy games had medieval settings (and for this reason, there are those who think all FF games should be this). But they sort of moved away from that with VII and VIII. And since VII is the majority’s favorite, there are those who are more than okay with FF not being medieval. So to keep both camps happy, these days you usually have a few games that are medieval (back to basics) and then a few that aren’t. Rinse and repeat. Since XIII and XV weren’t medieval, that probably means XVI will be. And if the “Agni’s Philosophy” trailers are secretly FFXVI, like some think, that definitely looks medieval. And there was maybe some FFXVI artwork leaked recently, that looks medieval. And many are thinking the director of Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn will be directing XVI–he’s said he’d be willing to do it–and I know he’s said he’d want to turn Final Fantasy to medieval, if he were to do a XVI. So, yeah…

Edit 2: And back to the “FF died when Squaresoft became Square Enix and Sakaguchi left the company” camp, another reason some feel this way is Uematsu. If I recall correctly, he composed all the music for I-IX–and I think did the “To Zanarkand” track for X–but I think he also left the company after IX. So his departure is another reason some think the series truly died then. -shrugs-

[mothercetrion]

Bedside

Summary: When Kuai Liang reunites with a younger Scorpion, he knows something is wrong.

Characters: Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi), Sub-Zero (Kuai Liang); brief appearances from Johnny Cage, Cassie Cage, Liu Kang, Raiden

Word Count: 2479

Request: “If you’re open to subscorp ideas...one of them gets hurt (badly) while the other stays by their side while they recover refusing to leave” - anonymous

this one is for you, anon!!! i took the chance to rewrite some of mk11′s canon because let’s be real... it had to happen. warning: descriptions of near-death experiences (poisoning) and severe injuries, but no one dies and the ending is pretty sweet in my opinion. enjoy!!! [crossposted to AO3]

———

A casual walk through the Fire Gardens quickly turned into chaos when Scorpion teleported in the middle of the Gardens.

Kuai Liang was immediately confused. He knew that he had left Hanzo in the Netherrealm to ask Kharon for his ship during the fight against Kronika. He promised his return. Why was Scorpion there?

In a flash, Scorpion was in front of him and Liu Kang. He knew who they were upon sight and was quick to rush up to them. Liu Kang was quick to question his arrival, and Kuai Liang quickly followed up with the whereabouts of Hanzo. Did he see him in the Netherrealm? Did they battle? Did he kill Hanzo?

Scorpion was quick to gesture behind him, supposedly towards his previous location. “You must return with me to the Netherrealm.”

“Why would we ever go with you, Scorpion?” Liu Kang asked coldly.

“It is Grandmaster Hasashi. He needs urgent assistance.”

Raiden appeared behind Liu Kang and Kuai Liang then, immediately questioning the situation before him with a tilt of his head. “What happened to Hanzo?” Kuai Liang asked. He hoped that his worry was hidden away by his voice.

“D’Vorah appeared in the Netherrealm after we battled. He has been poisoned. He is dying.”

Kuai Liang felt his heart stop in his chest. He could not believe his ears.

Hanzo? Dying? No. Impossible. He couldn’t be dying… There was no way.

The three of them were quick to come up with a plan of action. Kuai Liang, Liu Kang, and Scorpion would travel back to the Netherrealm to assist Hanzo as much as they could. Raiden would call upon Cassie Cage to summon the Special Forces to transport him to their hospital for further treatment. Raiden was quick to transport away, and Scorpion transported Liu Kang and Kuai Liang to the Netherrealm.

Kuai Liang immediately saw Hanzo and sprinted off, ignoring Liu Kang’s call to give him space.

He fell to his knees on the ground and hovered his hands over his body. Upon hearing him hit the ground, Hanzo’s fogged eyes looked over to him, and a small smile filled his face. His skin was deadly pale due to the poison, and his body was pierced on the sides, his wounds round and oozing blood. It was clear that D’Vorah’s ovipositors were the cause of his injury.

“Kuai Liang… You are here,” he said weakly.

Kuai Liang reached forward and grabbed one of his hands. “Of course I am here. Scorpion summoned me at your temple.”

“I told him of my clan… of how their hearts make them warriors.” Hanzo squeezed his eyes closed as a cough pushed itself out of his body, shaking his entire body with its force. Kuai Liang leaned back a little to give him space, and he frowned deeply at how harsh his coughs sounded. Once his coughs subsided, Kuai Liang used his other hand to envelope Hanzo’s hand in a firm grip. Hanzo looked over to him once he caught his breath. “I believe he is changed. He will fight on our side against Kronika.”

“That’s good. He will be useful.” Kuai Liang smiled back at him. “We are getting the Special Forces team over here to help you. They will get you feeling better.”

Hanzo shook his head. “I feel myself weakening, Kuai Liang… My time is near.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” Kuai Liang squeezed his hand, and his vision went blurry with tears. “You are not going to die, Hanzo. I will not allow it.”

“Kuai Liang, please.” Hanzo looked deep into his eyes and lifted his other hand, the hand shaking as he gripped Kuai Liang’s hands. His eyes fell closed. “You know that… that D’Vorah’s poisons oftentimes accomplish their goals. That bug wins often.”

“She will lose. I will not let her win.” Kuai Liang reached forward a hand and cupped Hanzo’s cheek, his thumb tracing the skin beneath his eye. “Stay with me… Keep your eyes open.”

Hanzo’s eyes opened instantly and looked back over to him, sparkling. “Kuai Liang… I love you. You—You have changed me. I am a new man because of you.”

“Don’t make dying confessions, Hanzo!” Kuai Liang blinked and ignored the tears that fell down his face. “You are not dying… Your confession is pointless. You can tell me every day after this.”

Hanzo sighed heavily, his grip slacking on Kuai Liang’s hand. His eyelids fluttered with exhaustion. “You dream… You dream large, Kuai Liang. Don’t lose that.”

Kuai Liang heard a commotion behind him, and he heard Cassie’s voice as she made some commands to the people she brought with her to the Netherrealm. “Hanzo, you need to stay awake… Dammit, Hanzo! Stay awake!”

Special Forces medics surrounded them then. They said commands quickly to one another and inspected Hanzo’s wounds, looked at his eyes with a flashlight and asked him questions. Kuai Liang felt a hand on his shoulder, and he rose to his feet and turned to see Johnny behind him. He still carried his crutch, but he was patched up better than before and standing up more easily. He looked upset.

“We need to get to the base,” he said, keeping his hand on his shoulder. “We’ll meet these guys and figure out everything there.”

When Kuai Liang didn’t move, he gently tugged on his shoulder. “They’re gonna help him. You can trust them. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

Kuai Liang didn’t speak, but he followed Johnny through the portal to leave the Netherrealm. In a flash, they were back in the Fire Gardens. Kuai Liang stepped away from Johnny, his back to him. His hands trembled as he fought back fresh tears.

He could only imagine Hanzo being dead. He was scared. What would the Shirai Ryu do without him? What would he do without him?

Johnny stepped up next to him and sighed deeply. “He’s gonna be okay, you know.”

Kuai Liang shook his head. “What if he isn’t, Cage? What if he… What if he dies?”

Johnny stepped around to his front then, and the pair made eye contact. “He won’t. He’s too strong and been through too much shit to be taken out by a giant bug.”

Kuai Liang glanced to the side and wiped his eyes. “But—”

“But nothing. Those guys are experts in what they do. They’ll heal him up before we know it.” Johnny reached forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s gonna make it. I promise.”

Kuai Liang stared at him a few extra seconds before a sob formed in his throat, and he swallowed thickly, failing to keep it at bay. Johnny noticed and stepped forward, and the two quickly embraced one another in a rare hug. Kuai Liang sighed wetly and rested his chin on his shoulder, taking in Johnny’s comforting touch.

“I’m scared, Cage.”

“I know… Me too.”

———

Minutes ticked by like days as they waited to hear back from a medic at the Special Forces.

Kuai Liang sat in a chair outside the medical unit of the base, staring down at his shoes. He hadn’t spoken to anyone since his and Johnny’s arrival to the base shortly after Hanzo was transported there. Johnny kept asking around in hopes of finding out something new about his condition, his status, anything new. But his search ended in nothing, and it had done so for the past three hours. Cassie sat next to Kuai Liang and played games on her phone to pass the time. She confirmed that he was there, but that was all she knew about him.

Soon enough, a Special Forces medic was basically dragged over to the area by Johnny. Kuai Liang rose to his feet in a flash. “How is he?” Cassie asked behind him.

“He’s alive. We… We almost lost him, but we removed all of the poison and fixed his wounds. He’s in the fourth room on the right, but—”

Kuai Liang didn’t even bother listening to the rest of his sentence. He hurried through the doors of the medical unit and ran up to the fourth room on the right, reading the medical information posted on the outside of the door. After a quick read, he learned that he was in serious condition, and Kuai Liang felt his heart stop. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Hanzo was unconscious on the bed. Hooked to a variety of machines and on oxygen, he had only some of his color back and an uncomfortable expression on his face. His torso was wrapped up in bandages, stained with his blood.

Kuai Liang stepped further into the room, his hands shaking, and he grabbed a chair from along the wall and pulled it up next to the bed. He sat himself down and looked at Hanzo with furrowed brows. He reached a hand over and gently grasped Hanzo’s hand, squeezed it gently. He wondered if Hanzo could feel it.

He heard the door open followed by footsteps, but he didn’t look away from the bed.

“You didn’t let me finish,” the medic said lightly. He stepped fully into view on the other side of the bed and began checking Hanzo’s vitals. “He went into surgery the moment he arrived. But we repaired his wounds and closed him up, and he is doing much better than he was when he arrived.”

When Kuai Liang didn’t reply, the medic chuckled quietly. “You need not worry so much. He will recover. He will be back to normal before you know it.”

“Will he be full strength?”

“Absolutely. He just needs to take it easy so his body can heal. It was severely damaged by D’Vorah’s poison and her ovipositors, but he was previously healthy, so he will heal quickly if he allows himself to.” The medic administered a dose of medicine into his IV. “You will have to help us with that. He will listen to you.”

The medic left then, leaving Kuai Liang alone with Hanzo.

He stared at the bed and sighed tiredly. He was relieved to see him there, to see him alive, but… his mind still raced with worry. What if he never woke up? What if his body didn’t heal correctly? What if he could never fight again?

The worst of possibilities were all that filled his mind.

Kuai Liang sat in that uncomfortable chair for hours. Medics came and went, and all of them tried to convince him to go home. He refused to leave, not until Hanzo was awake or, bare minimum, more responsive. Despite the exhaustion that tugged at his eyelids and weighed on his body, he remained awake, still as a statue, and patient… outwardly so.

It was close to midnight when he finally felt a movement from the bed. His fingers twitched, the smallest of twitches. To most people, it would be unnoticed. But Kuai Liang, who had heightened senses from his time in the Lin Kuei and an extra level of focus on the love of his life, could feel it instantly.

He sat up in his chair so quickly he nearly fell out. He squeezed the hand, hoping to stir some sort of reaction. When he felt a weak squeeze in return, he felt as though his heart would burst.

It took a few minutes, but Hanzo’s eyes eventually opened. They looked at the ceiling as he regained consciousness fully, and then he noticed his hand was being held and looked up. He smiled softly and squeezed the hand again. “Oh, Kuai Liang… How are you?”

Kuai Liang scoffed. “Do not ask about me.” He released his hand and traced it along his arm, ignoring the tears in his eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Better than I previously remember.” He sat up a little more in bed, grimacing. “Sore, obviously, but… better.” He looked to Kuai Liang, frowning. “Am I healed? I remember so little after the Special Forces arrived.”

“You were transported here, and had surgery, and… and that covers it.” Kuai Liang laughed nervously, and he tried to blink his tears away, but they remained. “That was a while ago.”

Hanzo tilted his head slightly. “Please don’t tell me you have been sitting here all this time… It’s late, isn’t it? It’s dark out.” He glanced at the clock on the wall in front of the bed. “Heavens, it is late. You needn’t be here.”

“I would not leave you here, not in your condition.” Kuai Liang took in a deep breath to keep himself composed. “I must admit, I… I have been very concerned, Hanzo. You being injured made me realize how deeply I care about your safety, and…” He stopped completely, and he felt his eyes form fresh tears. “I am so grateful that you’re alright. I apologize for not being in the Netherrealm when—”

“Kuai Liang, stop. I told you to go back to Earthrealm.” Hanzo furrowed his brows. “This was D’Vorah’s doing. Not yours.”

“I could have been there to assist you. I want to make up for it in any way I can.” Kuai Liang wiped at his eyes. “I will not leave your side until you are healed one hundred percent. That is a promise to you, my dearest.”

Hanzo shook his head with a smile and reached out his hand towards him, pulling him towards the bed when Kuai Liang grasped it. “If you insist. Lay with me, my love.”

“What if I hurt you?”

“You could never.”

Kuai Liang rose to his feet and laid down on the bed next to Hanzo, snuggling up directly into his side with a sniffle. Hanzo wrapped an arm around his back and traced his hand along his spine. “You needn’t worry so much about me, my love… I am capable of surviving almost anything.”

“My dearest… do you not remember telling me that your time was near?”

“I must be honest… No.”

Kuai Liang laughed softly to himself. “The poison has left your brain scrambled.”

Hanzo leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I suppose so.” He laid back in the bed with a contented sigh. “I am fine now. Recovery is all that awaits us.

“What shall we do of Kronika and her forces?”

“Kronika can wait.” Hanzo glanced down with a small smile. “Let us enjoy… us for a while. Just this once.”

Kuai Liang smiled in return and closed his eyes. “You know I am not opposed to spending some time with you. No intrusions, no one around, a comfortable bed… well, a semi-comfortable bed.”

Hanzo chuckled to himself. “We have earned every second of relaxation… though I could have not gotten injured.”

Kuai Liang snuggled closer to him and sighed softly. He was beyond grateful for every second with Hanzo, no matter how it was received. How did he become so lucky?

[lightshielded]

today i would like to talk a little about the late queen catherine lightshield, the late - king jarvan lightshield iii and the little riot shone for a brief moment in the slight development of their characters and how this light needed to be smothered to continue the story they wished. this is not a post to condemn riot for this decision, for the reason for doing so is understandable and they are not champions so less important, but a post to talk more about what i personally theorise why these decisions came about during maybe character development and what would have happened in lore had riot not made these decisions ( in short, lore would be nice but more boring as the champions would be doing nothing ) and my reasoning behind this. -- also i know it is entirely possible that they did this purely for drama and i know that jarv is my muse and thats basically all he is used for by this point but look this was fun and interesting and i just like the two characters a lot -- so this is just a little brain storming “what if” if you will, so i hope you enjoy if you continue to read along. part one is my rambling explanation, part two is a what if at the end.

MY RAMBLING

in previous lore ( meaning lore with new lore demacia but prior to recent changes with new champions ), the crown royals of demacia were never quite developed, there was ultimately no need. their ambitious and scarce mentions in their son’s lore gave way to reasonable assumptions of their character and we can assume they were very generic demacias. would could also imagine them both as characters which actually opposed their son in ideology based on the state of this demacia ( the laws were closer to the ones instated by most recent lore jarv with the hardest line mage suppression ).

however, with the newer lores for demacia, riot ultimately wanted to provide xin.zhao with a backstory to fit into the new lore and this is the first large change. now while this lore was not released first, we can assume they were worked on in development together due to the closeness of their update times and this proves a crux to my point. prior, jarv ii was the one who had rescued him from noxus but with the new lore this is jarv iii. now we can assume this is for age reasons as well as making more things relevant in lore ( tho jarv ii does get a nod to in the story and i do like this fact ) by having all active characters closely tied to each other. now we know OLDEST lore demacia raided noxus to free some of their slaves, this is not possible with new lore demacia as they don’t raid nor are they close enough that they can just grab their army and take it to the heart of noxus casually. so noxus had to be the aggressor for it to work, hence xin.zhao’s position as a slave soldier in this story.

but, this inspires a first change in the character of jarv iii - to accept a stranger, a noxian soldier, into demacia he had to be significantly compassionate. so by establishing the king as someone kind enough to release noxian slaves, prisoners of war, and entrust himself to one, to call one friend. BUT this essentially sets up a very kind man who is enforcing harsh, prejudice based laws on a population of his people. obviously, this is a paradox and riot also noticed it and changed it. and with the newer bits of lore we find out multiple new things: 

one) this newer lore jarv iii didn’t teach his son to be suspicious of magical beings. this was mentioned before in his old lore that jarv iv was like most demacians on this and this part was removed on revision, even then enforced that this was not true by his uncle remarking on that is was very unlike him to be so during aftermath. so we can assume he was at least not vocal about his opinions or was genuinely trying not to be prejudiced. two) the laws of stone were introduced and presented us with a not much better but step in the right direction set of laws for demacia which is implied to be done by jarv iii. through they were subsequently slowly undone by the council of nobles as seen in a couple mentions in lore of how the laws were tightening in ways the lightshields disliked and how the king had been giving the council more power. three) the king welcomes shyv when it was open that she was a dragon and the nobles questioned his wisdom in it which meant he openly supported the idea of his son having a dragon guard. (old lore had her hiding it and people just thought she looked weird and were super sus of her). four) all the extra lore we got with the royal family publicly helping mage exiles and meeting with them on conference and other things and all.

essentially made him a king trying to be good for mages. in addition to these changes they wanted to make him a likeable person as well. they worked this into jarv iv’s lore by him being genuinely happy for his sons return rather than emotionless, mentioning how his father genuinely cared for him for one and basically having him present. but in the development of his father they also wished to develop his mother. previously it had be a loveless arranged marriage which tied them together but i guess they figured that wasn’t the route they wanted to go now with this new kinder and more emotional jarv iii so they had them romantically inclined with court whispers, gossip and all. so given this opportunity they went to develop her a little bit, giving catherine strong leadership traits and they likely decided they wanted to show these as plainly and briefly as possible, which apparently in demacian lore is how quickly you can shut down a arms race. which she did instantaneously essentially. she basically kisses the king and said stop and the entire nation was like oh shit we need to stop. no arms race civil war for a good spot near the king’s ear. so, yeah, a queen who can shut down civil war and convince nobles to her side every easily that is much beloved by the nation.

in short, they fixed the paradox of a nice king being cruel to a nice king trying to be good. and then added a powerful queen ruler who stands at his side who is greatly loved and just as influential. HOW LOVELY! however, this causes the issue of why could the good of a now markedly feudal kingdom ( they were constitution monarchy in old lore and still kinda are cause the council and they elect the king but we aren’t here to talk about that ) not just make the decisions they wish? i believe this was their point of realisation of their mistake. the realisation that these two would just do what they want, and that the entire lore of demacia for the 26 years prior would be altered. you have an idealistic king and a queen whom the entire nation adores and bends knee to? they SHOULD be able to do everything they want. and likely did some as it is mentioned the king wants his son to finish what they started and achieve his dreams. have to start something to finish it.

alas, by wanting to develop these characters for the sake of champions like jarv and xin, the essentially wrote themselves into a space of, if they continue to exist we can’t have the story we want. so they basically stopped them existing. first they killed of catherine, in all previous lores as far as we know she was alive just wasn’t romantically interested in her husband. but they did royal stuff together, watched her son get almost killed with a poison crossbow once. good ol days. i imagine they were like good business partners. but for the first time in all lores they had her killed, removed her ( they also removed jarv’s capture by noxus too which has existed just as long but thats a discussion for another day ). now this one move is easy since they put fault on the time period, its olden days in terms of technology in demacia, and unfortunately deaths in childbirth were common. so a very easy disposal which not only removed the civil war ending queen but also injures the motivation of the king by making him emotionally worn out ( in an already emotionally taxing job )

essentially, in one fell swoop they pushed back the pro mage changes to be completed by jarv iv based on his lore as had been written. which is then removed from him and he is given the role of the villain with the comic. funny that if they had just left them both ambiguous they could have just easily had the king the villain cause there wouldn’t have been paradoxes. though i’m not sure how xin.zhao would have gotten in... maybe he escapes and they find him fighting noxians. seems alright? oh well at least we get the cute uncle/nephew relationship in this version of lore. this gives me strength. but ye, so it gets interesting from here because you can sit and just think, what would have happened if she didn’t die?

WHAT IF?

for one, the power couple would have been able to do so much more. i like to think they would have been slowly working down the laws for the betterment of their people and since jarv is not emotionally weakened and lady catherine has the entire council at her beck and call, there would be little resistance amongst the nobility. slowly the laws would lower from mageseekers having to register all emergent mages and ensuring they don’t slip up or they’re out to all emergent mages having to attend classes with members of the lightbringers to learn how to have basic control of their magic -- something they are all too happy to do for they have been doing their best without aid until now -- this would then evolve to allowing more experienced mages to take these classes as an assistant and then a teacher, the lightbringers allowing their secret inner circle to take these places and serve in the open for the first time in so long.

 slowly mages are given voices in positions of leadership and exiles from “slip ups” are lowered as mages are not repressed and know how to control their magic. this would change to not fearing slip ups as use of magic is less restricted for people are less likely to fear what they understand, magic usage becomes legal on school grounds then ever growing territories, eventually towns would have mage quarters where all manor of magic is permitted. although greater usage of magic would likely not be permitted in older parts of cities as it is known to discolour walls and there is only so much you can replace in instance of greying and flaking. got to keep it simple around the grander structures. but maybe over time the mortar can be replaced to not contain petricite, or maybe the bold amongst them might design builds intended to be saturated so their ceilings flake free and reveal the magic like opals within.

slowly magic is phased into the way of life, a smithy apprentice might be permitted to light his own flame without a flint or builder help ease the load of stone. and then ( as jarv seems to have been doing with shyv prior to the comics ) mages might be permitted to don the blue if they so wished, integrating magic into what demacia sees as their pride and joy. their heroes. the mageseekers would become more a force for protecting against mages in war rather than at home, a battalion rather than a power hungry force governed by a few. or maybe they would remain a police force, part of the city guard like any other just they possess protection from magic so are called for a mage criminal while the non magic protected are called for a person swinging a sword. right armour against the right weapon. also as likely, they will lose their name, and their tools simply be another weapon to the people that wear the blue. the tainted history of the name remembered but not allowed to continue on.

slowly, it becomes a nation that embraces magic rather than shuns it out of century old fears. together it is a country that could have healed its wounds both given and inflicted on each other. and our beloved champions could have grown up in a much brighter demacia. frankly, i imagine that within the 20 years from finding xin to the “now” of this universe, much of this could have been accomplished given what we know of them. i do hope, once all the pain and suffering if through in our version of the lore that maybe these steps could be walked by the true of our champions.

[aboveallarescuer]

Dany’s appreciation (and criticism) of the Dothraki and Viserys

As I was rereading ASOIAF, I made it my goal to compile all* the book passages demonstrating either certain key attributes of Daenerys Targaryen (e.g. that she's compassionate and empathetic) or aspects of hers that are usually overblown (e.g. that she's violent and ambitious).  Doing such a task may seem exaggerated, but I'd argue it's not, for many, many misconceptions about Dany have become widespread in light of the show's final season's events (and even before).

It must be acknowledged that it can be tricky to reference, say, ADWD passages to counter-argument how she was depicted in season eight (which allegedly follows ADOS events). Dany will have had plenty of character development in the span of two books. However, whatever happens to Dany in the next two books, I would argue that there is more than enough material to conclude that her show counterpart was made to fall for flaws that she (for the most part) never had and actions that she (for the most part) would never take.

Another objection to the purpose of these lists is that Game of Thrones is different from A Song of Ice and Fire and should be analyzed on its own, which is a fair point. However, the show is also an adaptation of these books, which begs the questions: why did they change Dany's character? Why did they overfocus on negative traits of hers or depicted them as negative when they weren't supposed to be or gave her negative traits that were never hers to begin with? Another fact that undermines the show=/=books argument is that most people think that the show's ending will be the books', albeit only in broad strokes and in different circumstances. As a result, people's perception of Dany is inevitably influenced by the show, which is a shame.

I hope these lists can be useful for whoever wants to find book passages to defend Dany's character in analysis or even conversations.

 *Well, at least all the passages that I could find.

Also, people may interpret certain passages differently and then come up with a different collection of passages, so I'm not arguing that this list is completely objective (nor that there could ever be one).

Also, some passages have been cut short according to whether they were, IMO, relevant to the specific topic of the list they're in, so the context surrounding them may not always be clear (always read the books!). Many of them appear in different lists, sometimes fully cited, sometimes not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To justify the existence of this list, let's see examples of widespread opinions that I feel misrepresent Daenerys Targaryen:

Would Dany’s return actually be good for the realm? She offers a fairly similar vision of Westeros to the Dothraki that her late husband Khal Drogo did back in season one, but for the common folk of Westeros, that would likely mean their homes and livelihood being destroyed by nomadic invaders with a penchant for violence. (x)

~

The problem is that Daenerys has come of age with Viserys and then the Dothraki: two parties who only ever cared about conquest. Maybe it’s too sweeping to say that conquest is always wrong. But, perhaps Daenerys needs to realize that war is rarely justified when it is just for one person’s glory. And I’m not sure that that will ever happen. (x) 

Bonus from the same source linked above: Fundamentally, Daenerys has a good heart – and maybe Jon can show her the way.

Is Dany so lacking in moral conscience and critical thinking that she can't discern what's good and what's bad from the Dothraki and Viserys's influence? I would argue that the books tell a different story.

Also, fuck that person for saying that maybe Jon can show her the way (to goodness or peace or whatever). FUCK THAT PERSON.

A Dance with Dragons

ADWD Daenerys X

Dany set off through the tall grass at a brisk pace. The earth felt warm between her toes. The grass was as tall as she was. It never seemed so high when I was mounted on my silver, riding beside my sun-and-stars at the head of his khalasar.

~

Only the birth of her dragons amidst the fire and smoke of Khal Drogo’s funeral pyre had spared Dany herself from being dragged back to Vaes Dothrak to live out the remainder of her days amongst the crones of the dosh khaleen.

~

She wondered how the ants had managed to climb over it and find her. To them these tumbledown stones must loom as huge as the Wall of Westeros. The biggest wall in all the world, her brother Viserys used to say, as proud as if he’d built it himself.

Viserys told her tales of knights so poor that they had to sleep beneath the ancient hedges that grew along the byways of the Seven Kingdoms. Dany would have given much and more for a nice thick hedge. Preferably one without an anthill.

~

A few bright stars lingered in the cobalt sky. Perhaps one of them is Khal Drogo, sitting on his fiery stallion in the night lands and smiling down on me.

~

Would the horse god of the Dothraki part the grass and claim her for his starry khalasar, so she might ride the nightlands with Khal Drogo? In Westeros the dead of House Targaryen were given to the flames, but who would light her pyre here? My flesh will feed the wolves and carrion crows, she thought sadly, and worms will burrow through my womb.

~

She dreamt of her dead brother.

Viserys looked just as he had the last time she’d seen him. His mouth was twisted in anguish, his hair was burnt, and his face was black and smoking where the molten gold had run down across his brow and cheeks and into his eyes.

“You are dead,” Dany said.

Murdered. Though his lips never moved, somehow she could hear his voice, whispering in her ear. You never mourned me, sister. It is hard to die unmourned.

“I loved you once.”

Once, he said, so bitterly it made her shudder. You were supposed to be my wife, to bear me children with silver hair and purple eyes, to keep the blood of the dragon pure. I took care of you. I taught you who you were. I fed you. I sold our mother’s crown to keep you fed.

“You hurt me. You frightened me.”

Only when you woke the dragon. I loved you. “You sold me. You betrayed me.”

No. You were the betrayer. You turned against me, against your own blood. They cheated me. Your horsey husband and his stinking savages. They were cheats and liars. They promised me a golden crown and gave me this. He touched the molten gold that was creeping down his face, and smoke rose from his finger.

“You could have had your crown,” Dany told him. “My sun-and-stars would have won it for you if only you had waited.”

I waited long enough. I waited my whole life. I was their king, their rightful king. They laughed at me.

“You should have stayed in Pentos with Magister Illyrio. Khal Drogo had to present me to the dosh khaleen, but you did not have to ride with us. That was your choice. Your mistake.”

Do you want to wake the dragon, you stupid little whore? Drogo’s khalasar was mine. I bought them from him, a hundred thousand screamers. I paid for them with your maidenhead.

“You never understood. Dothraki do not buy and sell. They give gifts and receive them. If you had waited ...”

I did wait. For my crown, for my throne, for you. All those years, and all I ever got was a pot of molten gold. Why did they give the dragon’s eggs to you? They should have been mine. If I’d had a dragon, I would have taught the world the meaning of our words.

~

One rider, and alone. A scout. He was one who rode before the khalasar to find the game and the good green grass, and sniff out foes wherever they might hide. If he found her there, he would kill her, rape her, or enslave her. At best, he would send her back to the crones of the dosh khaleen, where good khaleesi were supposed to go when their khals had died.

 ADWD Daenerys IX

Dany could hear her handmaids arguing behind her, debating who was going to win the day’s final match. Jhiqui favored the gigantic Goghor, who looked more bull than man, even to the bronze ring in his nose. Irri insisted that Belaquo Bonebreaker’s flail would prove the giant’s undoing. My handmaids are Dothraki, she told herself. Death rides with every khalasar. The day she wed Khal Drogo, the arakhs had flashed at her wedding feast, and men had died whilst others drank and mated. Life and death went hand in hand amongst the horselords, and a sprinkling of blood was thought to bless a marriage. Her new marriage would soon be drenched in blood. How blessed it would be.

~

In Westeros the septons spoke of seven hells and seven heavens, but the Seven Kingdoms and their gods were far away. If she died here, Dany wondered, would the horse god of the Dothraki part the grass and claim her for his starry khalasar, so she might ride the nightlands beside her sun-and-stars? Or would the angry gods of Ghis send their harpies to seize her soul and drag her down to torment?

 ADWD Daenerys VII

Dany envied the Dothraki maids their loose sandsilk trousers and painted vests. They would be much cooler than her in her tokar, with its heavy fringe of baby pearls. “Help me wind this round myself, please. I cannot manage all these pearls by myself.”

~

“Have my silver saddled. I would not go to my lord husband upon the backs of bearers.”

 ADWD Daenerys V

The day might come soon when she would have need of every knight. “Will they joust for me? I should like that.” Viserys had told her stories of the tourneys he had witnessed in the Seven Kingdoms, but Dany had never seen a joust herself.

“They are not ready, Your Grace. When they are, they will be pleased to demonstrate their prowess.”

~

Daario should be here, and my bloodriders, she thought. If there is to be a battle, the blood of my blood should be with me.

 ADWD Daenerys IV

“Most queens have no purpose but to warm some king’s bed and pop out sons for him. If that’s the sort of queen you mean to be, best marry Hizdahr.”

Her anger flashed. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

“No. Have you?”

Viserys would have his head off for that insolence. “I am the blood of the dragon. Do not presume to teach me lessons.” When Dany stood, the lion pelt slipped from her shoulders and tumbled to the ground. “Leave me.”

 ADWD Daenerys III

“Dothraki make slaves, Ghiscari train them. And to reach Qarth, the horselords must needs drive their captives across the red waste. Hundreds would die, if not thousands … and many horses too, which is why no khal will risk it. And there is this: Qarth wants no khalasars seething round our walls. The stench of all those horses … meaning no offense, Khaleesi.”

“A horse has an honest smell. That is more than can be said of some great lords and merchant princes.”

 ADWD Daenerys I

Dothraki were wise where horses were concerned, but could be utter fools about much else. 

~

Daenerys pushed her hair back. “Find these cowards for me. Find them, so that I might teach the Harpy’s Sons what it means to wake the dragon.”

~

“Soldiers, not warriors, if it please Your Grace. They were made for the battlefield, to stand shoulder to shoulder behind their shields with their spears thrust out before them. Their training teaches them to obey, fearlessly, perfectly, without thought or hesitation ... not to unravel secrets or ask questions.”

“Would knights serve me any better?” [...]

“Not in this,” the old man admitted. “And Your Grace has no knights, save me. It will be years before the boys are ready.”

“Then who, if not Unsullied? Dothraki would be even worse.” Dothraki fought from horseback. Mounted men were of more use in open fields and hills than in the narrow streets and alleys of the city.

 A Storm of Swords

ASOS Daenerys VI

“When I sent you down into the sewers, part of me hoped I’d seen the last of you. It seemed a fitting end for liars, to drown in slavers’ filth. I thought the gods would deal with you, but instead you returned to me. My gallant knights of Westeros, an informer and a turncloak. My brother would have hanged you both.” Viserys, would have, anyway. She did not know what Rhaegar would have done.

~

Irri helped her slip from her court clothes and into more comfortable garb; baggy woolen breeches, a loose felted tunic, a painted Dothraki vest.

~

“Aegon the Conqueror brought fire and blood to Westeros, but afterward he gave them peace, prosperity, and justice. But all I have brought to Slaver’s Bay is death and ruin. I have been more khal than queen, smashing and plundering, then moving on.”

 ASOS Daenerys V

High on the walls of Meereen, the jeers had grown louder, and now hundreds of the defenders were taking their lead from the hero and pissing down through the ramparts to show their contempt for the besiegers. They are pissing on slaves, to show how little they fear us, she thought. They would never dare such a thing if it were a Dothraki khalasar outside their gates.

~

“What if we were to build siege towers? My brother Viserys told tales of such, I know they can be made.”

 ASOS Daenerys IV

She had made Jhogo, Aggo, and Rakharo her kos as well as her bloodriders, and just now she needed them more to command her Dothraki than to protect her person. Her khalasar was tiny, some thirty-odd mounted warriors, and most of them braidless boys and bentback old men. Yet they were all the horse she had, and she dared not go without them.

 ASOS Daenerys III

Today she rode her silver, clad in horsehair pants and painted leather vest, a bronze medallion belt about her waist and two more crossed between her breasts. Irri and Jhiqui had braided her hair and hung it with a tiny silver bell whose chime sang of the Undying of Qarth, burned in their Palace of Dust.

 ASOS Daenerys II

The old man had not wanted to sail to Astapor; nor did he favor buying this slave army. A queen should hear all sides before reaching a decision. That was why Dany had brought him with her to the Plaza of Pride, not to keep her safe. Her bloodriders would do that well enough.

~

And some had skins of the same amber hue as Kraznys mo Nakloz, and the bristly red-black hair that marked the ancient folk of Ghis, who named themselves the harpy’s sons. They sell even their own kind. It should not have surprised her. The Dothraki did the same, when khalasar met khalasar in the sea of grass.

~

Aggo and Jhogo fell in to either side of them, walking with the bowlegged swagger all the horselords affected when forced to dismount and stride the earth like common mortals.

~

She set her mouth grimly and gave her head a shake, and the bell in her braid chimed softly.

~

“You speak of sacking cities. Answer me this, ser—why have the Dothraki never sacked this city?” She pointed. “Look at the walls. You can see where they’ve begun to crumble. There, and there. Do you see any guards on those towers? I don’t. Are they hiding, ser? I saw these sons of the harpy today, all their proud highborn warriors. They dressed in linen skirts, and the fiercest thing about them was their hair. Even a modest khalasar could crack this Astapor like a nut and spill out the rotted meat inside. So tell me, why is that ugly harpy not sitting beside the godsway in Vaes Dothrak among the other stolen gods?”

 A Clash of Kings

ACOK Daenerys V

She was breaking her fast on a bowl of cold shrimp-and-persimmon soup when Irri brought her a Qartheen gown, an airy confection of ivory samite patterned with seed pearls. “Take it away,” Dany said. “The docks are no place for lady’s finery.”

If the Milk Men thought her such a savage, she would dress the part for them. When she went to the stables, she wore faded sandsilk pants and woven grass sandals. Her small breasts moved freely beneath a painted Dothraki vest, and a curved dagger hung from her medallion belt. Jhiqui had braided her hair Dothraki-fashion, and fastened a silver bell to the end of the braid. “I have won no victories,” she tried telling her handmaid when the bell tinkled softly.

Jhiqui disagreed. “You burned the maegi in their house of dust and sent their souls to hell.”

That was Drogon’s victory, not mine, Dany wanted to say, but she held her tongue. The Dothraki would esteem her all the more for a few bells in her hair.

~

She chimed as she mounted her silver mare, and again with every stride [...] At least when she rode she felt as though she was getting somewhere.

~

Well, perhaps it was time. The people of her khalasar had welcomed the chance to recover from the ravages of the red waste, but now that they were plump and rested once again, they began to grow unruly. Dothraki were not accustomed to staying long in one place. They were a warrior people, not made for cities.

~

“I smell it, Khaleesi,” he called. “The poison water.” The Dothraki distrusted the sea and all that moved upon it. Water that a horse could not drink was water they wanted no part of. They will learn, Dany resolved. I braved their sea with Khal Drogo. Now they can brave mine.

 ACOK Daenerys IV

Aggo put a hand on his arakh. “Khaleesi, it is said that many go into the Palace of Dust, but few come out.”

“It is said,” Jhogo agreed.

“We are blood of your blood,” said Aggo, “sworn to live and die as you do. Let us walk with you in this dark place, to keep you safe from harm.”

“Some places even a khal must walk alone,” Dany said.

~

The blood of the dragon must not be afraid. Dany said a quick prayer, begging the Warrior for courage and the Dothraki horse god for strength. She made herself walk forward.

 ACOK Daenerys III

“A firemage, Khaleesi.”

“I want to see.”

“Then you must.” The Dothraki offered a hand down. When she took it, he pulled her up onto his horse and sat her in front of him, where she could see over the heads of the crowd. The firemage had conjured a ladder in the air, a crackling orange ladder of swirling flame that rose unsupported from the floor of the bazaar, reaching toward the high latticed roof.

Most of the spectators, she noticed, were not of the city: she saw sailors off trading ships, merchants come by caravan, dusty men out of the red waste, wandering soldiers, craftsmen, slavers. Jhogo slid one hand about her waist and leaned close. “The Milk Men shun him. Khaleesi, do you see the girl in the felt hat? There, behind the fat priest. She is a—”

“—cutpurse,” finished Dany. She was no pampered lady, blind to such things. She had seen cutpurses aplenty in the streets of the Free Cities, during the years she’d spent with her brother, running from the Usurper’s hired knives.

 ACOK Daenerys II

The thought of home disquieted her. If her sun-and-stars had lived, he would have led his khalasar across the poison water and swept away her enemies, but his strength had left the world. Her bloodriders remained, sworn to her for life and skilled in slaughter, but only in the ways of the horselords. The Dothraki sacked cities and plundered kingdoms, they did not rule them. Dany had no wish to reduce King’s Landing to a blackened ruin full of unquiet ghosts. She had supped enough on tears. I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. I want my people to smile when they see me ride by, the way Viserys said they smiled for my father.

But before she could do that she must conquer.

[...]When Khal Drogo had lived, men trembled and made him gifts to stay his wrath. If they did not, he took their cities, wealth and wives and all. But his khalasar had been vast, while hers was meager. Her people had followed her across the red waste as she chased her comet, and would follow her across the poison water too, but they would not be enough. Even her dragons might not be enough. Viserys had believed that the realm would rise for its rightful king ... but Viserys had been a fool, and fools believe in foolish things.

Her doubts made her shiver.

 ACOK Daenerys I

“Your hair is coming back, Khaleesi,” Jhiqui said as she scraped sand off her back. Dany ran a hand over the top of her head, feeling the new growth. Dothraki men wore their hair in long oiled braids, and cut them only when defeated. Perhaps I should do the same, she thought, to remind them that Drogo’s strength lives within me now. Khal Drogo had died with his hair uncut, a boast few men could make.

~

“My handmaids say there are ghosts here.”

“There are ghosts everywhere,” Ser Jorah said softly. “We carry them with us wherever we go.”

Yes, she thought. Viserys, Khal Drogo, my son Rhaego, they are with me always.

 A Game of Thrones

AGOT Daenerys X

Then there was nothing to be done but watch the sun and look for the first star.

When a horselord dies, his horse is slain with him, so he might ride proud into the night lands. The bodies are burned beneath the open sky, and the khal rises on his fiery steed to take his place among the stars. The more fiercely the man burned in life, the brighter his star will shine in the darkness.

Jhogo spied it first. “There,” he said in a hushed voice. Dany looked and saw it, low in the east. The first star was a comet, burning red. Bloodred; fire red; the dragon’s tail. She could not have asked for a stronger sign.

 AGOT Daenerys IX

“It was her fate, Khaleesi,” said Aggo.


If I look back I am lost. “It was a cruel fate,” Dany said, “yet not so cruel as Mago’s will be. I promise you that, by the old gods and the new, by the lamb god and the horse god and every god that lives. I swear it by the Mother of Mountains and the Womb of the World. Before I am done with them, Mago and Ko Jhaqo will plead for the mercy they showed Eroeh.”

~

The memory of their first ride was with her when she led him out into the darkness, for the Dothraki believed that all things of importance in a man’s life must be done beneath the open sky. She told herself that there were powers stronger than hatred, and spells older and truer than any the maegi had learned in Asshai. The night was black and moonless, but overhead a million stars burned bright. She took that for an omen.

No soft blanket of grass welcomed them here, only the hard dusty ground, bare and strewn with stones. No trees stirred in the wind, and there was no stream to soothe her fears with the gentle music of water. Dany told herself that the stars would be enough. “Remember, Drogo,” she whispered. “Remember our first ride together, the day we wed. Remember the night we made Rhaego, with the khalasar all around us and your eyes on my face. Remember how cool and clean the water was in the Womb of the World. Remember, my sun-and-stars. Remember, and come back to me.”

 AGOT Daenerys VIII

The child kicked inside her, as if he had heard. Dany remembered the story Viserys had told her, of what the Usurper’s dogs had done to Rhaegar’s children. His son had been a babe as well, yet they had ripped him from his mother’s breast and dashed his head against a wall. That was the way of men. “They must not hurt my son!” she cried.

~

Dany did not want to go back to Vaes Dothrak and live the rest of her life among those terrible old women, yet she knew that the knight spoke the truth. Drogo had been more than her sun-and-stars; he had been the shield that kept her safe. “I will not leave him,” she said stubbornly, miserably. She took his hand again. “I will not.”

~

“Khaleesi,” he pleaded, “you must not do this thing. Let me kill this maegi.”

“Kill her and you kill your khal,” Dany said.

“This is bloodmagic,” he said. “It is forbidden.”

“I am khaleesi, and I say it is not forbidden. In Vaes Dothrak, Khal Drogo slew a stallion and I ate his heart, to give our son strength and courage. This is the same. The same.”

~

Mirri Maz Duur had no use for the carcass. “Burn it,” Dany told them. It was what they did, she knew. When a man died, his mount was killed and placed beneath him on the funeral pyre, to carry him to the night lands. The men of her khas dragged the carcass from the tent.

 AGOT Daenerys VII

Ser Jorah said the people of this country named themselves the Lhazareen, but the Dothraki called them haesh rakhi, the Lamb Men. Once Dany might have taken them for Dothraki, for they had the same copper skin and almond-shaped eyes. Now they looked alien to her, squat and flat-faced, their black hair cropped unnaturally short. They were herders of sheep and eaters of vegetables, and Khal Drogo said they belonged south of the river bend. The grass of the Dothraki sea was not meant for sheep.

~

“Jhogo, Quaro, you will aid Ser Jorah. I want no rape.”

The warriors exchanged a baffled look.

Jorah Mormont spurred his horse closer. “Princess,” he said, “you have a gentle heart, but you do not understand. This is how it has always been. Those men have shed blood for the khal. Now they claim their reward.”

Across the road, the girl was still crying, her high singsong tongue strange to Dany’s ears. The first man was done with her now, and a second had taken his place.

“She is a lamb girl,” Quaro said in Dothraki. “She is nothing, Khaleesi. The riders do her honor. The Lamb Men lay with sheep, it is known.”

“It is known,” her handmaid Irri echoed.

“It is known,” agreed Jhogo, astride the tall grey stallion that Drogo had given him. “If her wailing offends your ears, Khaleesi, Jhogo will bring you her tongue.” He drew his arakh.

“I will not have her harmed,” Dany said. “I claim her. Do as I command you, or Khal Drogo will know the reason why.”

“Ai, Khaleesi,” Jhogo replied, kicking his horse. Quaro and the others followed his lead, the bells in their hair chiming.

~

Dany heard Jhogo shout. The rapers laughed at him. One man shouted back. Jhogo’s arakh flashed, and the man’s head went tumbling from his shoulders. Laughter turned to curses as the horsemen reached for weapons, but by then Quaro and Aggo and Rakharo were there. She saw Aggo point across the road to where she sat upon her silver. The riders looked at her with cold black eyes. One spat. The others scattered to their mounts, muttering.

All the while the man atop the lamb girl continued to plunge in and out of her, so intent on his pleasure that he seemed unaware of what was going on around him. Ser Jorah dismounted and wrenched him off with a mailed hand. The Dothraki went sprawling in the mud, bounced up with a knife in hand, and died with Aggo’s arrow through his throat.

~

A mounted warrior rode up and vaulted from his saddle. He spoke to Haggo, a stream of angry Dothraki too fast for Dany to understand. The huge bloodrider gave her a heavy look before he turned to his khal. “This one is Mago, who rides in the khas of Ko Jhaqo. He says the khaleesi has taken his spoils, a daughter of the lambs who was his to mount.”

Khal Drogo’s face was still and hard, but his black eyes were curious as they went to Dany. “Tell me the truth of this, moon of my life,” he commanded in Dothraki.

Dany told him what she had done, in his own tongue so the khal would understand her better, her words simple and direct.

When she was done, Drogo was frowning. “This is the way of war. These women are our slaves now, to do with as we please.”

“It pleases me to hold them safe,” Dany said, wondering if she had dared too much. “If your warriors would mount these women, let them take them gently and keep them for wives. Give them places in the khalasar and let them bear you sons.”

Qotho was ever the cruelest of the bloodriders. It was he who laughed. “Does the horse breed with the sheep?”

Something in his tone reminded her of Viserys. Dany turned on him angrily. “The dragon feeds on horse and sheep alike.”

Khal Drogo smiled. “See how fierce she grows!” he said. “It is my son inside her, the stallion who mounts the world, filling her with his fire. Ride slowly, Qotho ... if the mother does not burn you where you sit, the son will trample you into the mud. And you, Mago, hold your tongue and find another lamb to mount. These belong to my khaleesi.”

 AGOT Daenerys VI

She had never seen the Seven Kingdoms either, no more than Drogo, yet she felt as though she knew them from all the tales her brother had told her. Viserys had promised her a thousand times that he would take her back one day, but he was dead now and his promises had died with him.

~

Home? The word made her feel sad. Ser Jorah had his Bear Island, but what was home to her? A few tales, names recited as solemnly as the words of a prayer, the fading memory of a red door ... was Vaes Dothrak to be her home forever? When she looked at the crones of the dosh khaleen, was she looking at her future?

~

The day was warm and cloudless, the sky a deep blue. When the wind blew, she could smell the rich scents of grass and earth. As her litter passed beneath the stolen monuments, she went from sunlight to shadow and back again. Dany swayed along, studying the faces of dead heroes and forgotten kings. She wondered if the gods of burned cities could still answer prayers. If I were not the blood of the dragon, she thought wistfully, this could be my home. She was khaleesi, she had a strong man and a swift horse, handmaids to serve her, warriors to keep her safe, an honored place in the dosh khaleen awaiting her when she grew old ... and in her womb grew a son who would one day bestride the world. That should be enough for any woman ... but not for the dragon. With Viserys gone, Daenerys was the last, the very last. She was the seed of kings and conquerors, and so too the child inside her. She must not forget.

 AGOT Daenerys V

A procession followed them out onto the godsway, the broad grassy road that ran through the heart of Vaes Dothrak, from the horse gate to the Mother of Mountains. The crones of the dosh khaleen came first, with their eunuchs and slaves. Some supported themselves with tall carved staffs as they struggled along on ancient, shaking legs, while others walked as proud as any horselord. Each of the old women had been a khaleesi once. When their lord husbands died and a new khal took his place at the front of his riders, with a new khaleesi mounted beside him, they were sent here, to reign over the vast Dothraki nation. Even the mightiest of khals bowed to the wisdom and authority of the dosh khaleen. Still, it gave Dany the shivers to think that one day she might be sent to join them, whether she willed it or no.

~

“He has no gold to pay soldiers. What if he’s betrayed?” Caravan guards were seldom troubled much by thoughts of honor, and the Usurper in King’s Landing would pay well for her brother’s head.

~

“Then ... he should have them. He does not need to steal them. He had only to ask. He is my brother ... and my true king.”

“He is your brother,” Ser Jorah acknowledged.

“You do not understand, ser,” she said. “My mother died giving me birth, and my father and my brother Rhaegar even before that. I would never have known so much as their names if Viserys had not been there to tell me. He was the only one left. The only one. He is all I have.” “Once,” said Ser Jorah. “No longer, Khaleesi. You belong to the Dothraki now. In your womb rides the stallion who mounts the world.”

 AGOT Daenerys IV

Beyond the horse gate, plundered gods and stolen heroes loomed to either side of them. The forgotten deities of dead cities brandished their broken thunderbolts at the sky as Dany rode her silver past their feet. Stone kings looked down on her from their thrones, their faces chipped and stained, even their names lost in the mists of time. Lithe young maidens danced on marble plinths, draped only in flowers, or poured air from shattered jars. Monsters stood in the grass beside the road; black iron dragons with jewels for eyes, roaring griffins, manticores with their barbed tails poised to strike, and other beasts she could not name. Some of the statues were so lovely they took her breath away, others so misshapen and terrible that Dany could scarcely bear to look at them. Those, Ser Jorah said, had likely come from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai.

“So many,” she said as her silver stepped slowly onward, “and from so many lands.”

Viserys was less impressed. “The trash of dead cities,” he sneered. He was careful to speak in the Common Tongue, which few Dothraki could understand, yet even so Dany found herself glancing back at the men of her khas, to make certain he had not been overheard. He went on blithely. “All these savages know how to do is steal the things better men have built ... and kill.” He laughed. “They do know how to kill. Otherwise I’d have no use for them at all.”

“They are my people now,” Dany said. “You should not call them savages, brother.”

“The dragon speaks as he likes,” Viserys said ... in the Common Tongue. He glanced over his shoulder at Aggo and Rakharo, riding behind them, and favored them with a mocking smile. “See, the savages lack the wit to understand the speech of civilized men.”

~

Every khal had his bloodriders. At first Dany had thought of them as a kind of Dothraki Kingsguard, sworn to protect their lord, but it went further than that. Jhiqui had taught her that a bloodrider was more than a guard; they were the khal’s brothers, his shadows, his fiercest friends. “Blood of my blood,” Drogo called them, and so it was; they shared a single life. The ancient traditions of the horselords demanded that when the khal died, his bloodriders died with him, to ride at his side in the night lands. If the khal died at the hands of some enemy, they lived only long enough to avenge him, and then followed him joyfully into the grave. In some khalasars, Jhiqui said, the bloodriders shared the khal’s wine, his tent, and even his wives, though never his horses. A man’s mount was his own.

Daenerys was glad that Khal Drogo did not hold to those ancient ways. She should not have liked being shared. And while old Cohollo treated her kindly enough, the others frightened her; Haggo, huge and silent, often glowered as if he had forgotten who she was, and Qotho had cruel eyes and quick hands that liked to hurt. He left bruises on Doreah’s soft white skin whenever he touched her, and sometimes made Irri sob in the night. Even his horses seemed to fear him.

Yet they were bound to Drogo for life and death, so Daenerys had no choice but to accept them. And sometimes she found herself wishing her father had been protected by such men. In the songs, the white knights of the Kingsguard were ever noble, valiant, and true, and yet King Aerys had been murdered by one of them, the handsome boy they now called the Kingslayer, and a second, Ser Barristan the Bold, had gone over to the Usurper. She wondered if all men were as false in the Seven Kingdoms. When her son sat the Iron Throne, she would see that he had bloodriders of his own to protect him against treachery in his Kingsguard. ~

“I will give my brother his gifts tonight,” she decided as Jhiqui was washing her hair. “He should look a king in the sacred city. Doreah, run and find him and invite him to sup with me.”

[...] While her handmaids prepared the meal, Dany laid out the clothing she’d had made to her brother’s measure: a tunic and leggings of crisp white linen, leather sandals that laced up to the knee, a bronze medallion belt, a leather vest painted with fire-breathing dragons. The Dothraki would respect him more if he looked less a beggar, she hoped, and perhaps he would forgive her for shaming him that day in the grass. He was still her king, after all, and her brother. They were both blood of the dragon.

She was arranging the last of his gifts—a sandsilk cloak, green as grass, with a pale grey border that would bring out the silver in his hair—when Viserys arrived, dragging Doreah by the arm.

~

“Look. These are for you.”

Viserys frowned suspiciously. “What is all this?”

“New raiment. I had it made for you.” Dany smiled shyly.

He looked at her and sneered. “Dothraki rags. Do you presume to dress me now?”

“Please ... you’ll be cooler and more comfortable, and I thought ... maybe if you dressed like them, the Dothraki ... ” Dany did not know how to say it without waking his dragon.

“Next you’ll want to braid my hair.”

“I’d never ... ” Why was he always so cruel? She had only wanted to help. “You have no right to a braid, you have won no victories yet.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Fury shone from his lilac eyes, yet he dared not strike her, not with her handmaids watching and the warriors of her khas outside. Viserys picked up the cloak and sniffed at it. “This stinks of manure. Perhaps I shall use it as a horse blanket.”

“I had Doreah sew it specially for you,” she told him, wounded. “These are garments fit for a khal.” “I am the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, not some grass-stained savage with bells in his hair,” Viserys spat back at her. He grabbed her arm. “You forget yourself, slut. Do you think that big belly will protect you if you wake the dragon?”

His fingers dug into her arm painfully and for an instant Dany felt like a child again, quailing in the face of his rage. She reached out with her other hand and grabbed the first thing she touched, the belt she’d hoped to give him, a heavy chain of ornate bronze medallions. She swung it with all her strength.

It caught him full in the face. Viserys let go of her. Blood ran down his cheek where the edge of one of the medallions had sliced it open. “You are the one who forgets himself,” Dany said to him. “Didn’t you learn anything that day in the grass? Leave me now, before I summon my khas to drag you out. And pray that Khal Drogo does not hear of this, or he will cut open your belly and feed you your own entrails.”

 AGOT Daenerys III

“Wait here,” Dany told Ser Jorah. “Tell them all to stay. Tell them I command it.”

The knight smiled. Ser Jorah was not a handsome man. He had a neck and shoulders like a bull, and coarse black hair covered his arms and chest so thickly that there was none left for his head. Yet his smiles gave Dany comfort. “You are learning to talk like a queen, Daenerys.”

“Not a queen,” said Dany. “A khaleesi.” She wheeled her horse about and galloped down the ridge alone.

The descent was steep and rocky, but Dany rode fearlessly, and the joy and the danger of it were a song in her heart. All her life Viserys had told her she was a princess, but not until she rode her silver had Daenerys Targaryen ever felt like one.

~

From that hour onward, each day was easier than the one before it. Her legs grew stronger; her blisters burst and her hands grew callused; her soft thighs toughened, supple as leather.

The khal had commanded the handmaid Irri to teach Dany to ride in the Dothraki fashion, but it was the filly who was her real teacher. The horse seemed to know her moods, as if they shared a single mind. With every passing day, Dany felt surer in her seat. The Dothraki were a hard and unsentimental people, and it was not their custom to name their animals, so Dany thought of her only as the silver. She had never loved anything so much.

As the riding became less an ordeal, Dany began to notice the beauties of the land around her. She rode at the head of the khalasar with Drogo and his bloodriders, so she came to each country fresh and unspoiled. Behind them the great horde might tear the earth and muddy the rivers and send up clouds of choking dust, but the fields ahead of them were always green and verdant.

~

By then her agony was a fading memory. She still ached after a long day’s riding, yet somehow the pain had a sweetness to it now, and each morning she came willingly to her saddle, eager to know what wonders waited for her in the lands ahead. She began to find pleasure even in her nights, and if she still cried out when Drogo took her, it was not always in pain.

~

At the bottom of the ridge, the grasses rose around her, tall and supple. Dany slowed to a trot and rode out onto the plain, losing herself in the green, blessedly alone. In the khalasar, she was never alone. Khal Drogo came to her only after the sun went down, but her handmaids fed her and bathed her and slept by the door of her tent, Drogo’s bloodriders and the men of her khas were never far, and her brother was an unwelcome shadow, day and night. Dany could hear him on the top of the ridge, his voice shrill with anger as he shouted at Ser Jorah. She rode on, submerging herself deeper in the Dothraki sea.

The green swallowed her up. The air was rich with the scents of earth and grass, mixed with the smell of horseflesh and Dany’s sweat and the oil in her hair. Dothraki smells. They seemed to belong here. Dany breathed it all in, laughing. She had a sudden urge to feel the ground beneath her, to curl her toes in that thick black soil. Swinging down from her saddle, she let the silver graze while she pulled off her high boots.

~

“Have you forgotten who you are? Look at you. Look at you!”

Dany did not need to look. She was barefoot, with oiled hair, wearing Dothraki riding leathers and a painted vest given her as a bride gift. She looked as though she belonged here. Viserys was soiled and stained in city silks and ringmail.

~

“Take his horse,” Dany commanded Ser Jorah. Viserys gaped at her. He could not believe what he was hearing; nor could Dany quite believe what she was saying. Yet the words came. “Let my brother walk behind us back to the khalasar.” Among the Dothraki, the man who does not ride was no man at all, the lowest of the low, without honor or pride. “Let everyone see him as he is.”

~

“He could not lead an army even if my lord husband gave him one,” Dany said. “He has no coin and the only knight who follows him reviles him as less than a snake. The Dothraki make mock of his weakness. He will never take us home.”

“Wise child.” The knight smiled.

“I am no child,” she told him fiercely. Her heels pressed into the sides of her mount, rousing the silver to a gallop. Faster and faster she raced, leaving Jorah and Irri and the others far behind, the warm wind in her hair and the setting sun red on her face. By the time she reached the khalasar, it was dusk.

~

There is no privacy in the heart of the khalasar. Dany felt the eyes on her as she undressed him, heard the soft voices as she did the things that Doreah had told her to do. It was nothing to her. Was she not khaleesi? His were the only eyes that mattered, and when she mounted him she saw something there that she had never seen before. She rode him as fiercely as ever she had ridden her silver, and when the moment of his pleasure came, Khal Drogo called out her name.

 AGOT Daenerys II

She was a young filly, spirited and splendid. Dany knew just enough about horses to know that this was no ordinary animal. There was something about her that took the breath away. She was grey as the winter sea, with a mane like silver smoke.

Hesitantly she reached out and stroked the horse’s neck, ran her fingers through the silver of her mane. Khal Drogo said something in Dothraki and Magister Illyrio translated. “Silver for the silver of your hair, the khal says.”

“She’s beautiful,” Dany murmured.


“She is the pride of the khalasar,” Illyrio said. “Custom decrees that the khaleesi must ride a mount worthy of her place by the side of the khal.”

Drogo stepped forward and put his hands on her waist. He lifted her up as easily as if she were a child and set her on the thin Dothraki saddle, so much smaller than the ones she was used to. Dany sat there uncertain for a moment. No one had told her about this part. “What should I do?” she asked Illyrio.

It was Ser Jorah Mormont who answered. “Take the reins and ride. You need not go far.”

Nervously Dany gathered the reins in her hands and slid her feet into the short stirrups. She was only a fair rider; she had spent far more time traveling by ship and wagon and palanquin than by horseback. Praying that she would not fall off and disgrace herself, she gave the filly the lightest and most timid touch with her knees.

And for the first time in hours, she forgot to be afraid. Or perhaps it was for the first time ever.

The silver-grey filly moved with a smooth and silken gait, and the crowd parted for her, every eye upon them. Dany found herself moving faster than she had intended, yet somehow it was exciting rather than terrifying. The horse broke into a trot, and she smiled. Dothraki scrambled to clear a path. The slightest pressure with her legs, the lightest touch on the reins, and the filly responded. She sent it into a gallop, and now the Dothraki were hooting and laughing and shouting at her as they jumped out of her way. As she turned to ride back, a firepit loomed ahead, directly in her path. They were hemmed in on either side, with no room to stop. A daring she had never known filled Daenerys then, and she gave the filly her head.

The silver horse leapt the flames as if she had wings.

When she pulled up before Magister Illyrio, she said, “Tell Khal Drogo that he has given me the wind.” The fat Pentoshi stroked his yellow beard as he repeated her words in Dothraki, and Dany saw her new husband smile for the first time.

The last sliver of sun vanished behind the high walls of Pentos to the west just then. Dany had lost all track of time.