#but this aint the way to fix shit

[thechekhov]

Hey, please be normal towards Critical Role in re: WotC

They are in a contract with DnD Beyond and there is absolutely NO benefit to you going off to clown in the livestream chat about how they’re ‘letting the community down’ by not commenting on the OGL fiasco. 

the streams are pre-recorded, not live 

they are under CONTRACT with DDB 

breaking contract, including clauses not to speak out against the company, is not a slap on the wrist

It is not merely a loss of money

It could mean a lawsuit 

The crew’s stance is already clear because Matt has been liking tweets speaking out against the new OGL 

They will speak about it when they are able, probably after consulting with lawyers or their legal team.

It’s understandable that you want them to speak out against this. But give them time. The entire thing is still going off of LEAKS for fuck’s sake.

[trappednyourheart]

A family visit

Alfred has been granted (Force) by the bats a week off, and whatever way would he do in a week?, visit his Father of course!

Alfred didn't really have a word into this, he only just been given (forced) a week off, he reason with the family ( it always works) but to his surprised! None of it came through there heads! ( Somehow they got lucky from Alfred's reasonable scolding)

What about the manor? Who would care of it? Who would assist? What will happen if-

How many times he reason and tried to budge it in there minds, none of it work?

Alfred is in horror, so the only thing he can only do is accept, remind them what's not do and do, (every single details) or atleast the common things to do, which he thinks they can handle it- if not, if he sees the house in shambles or in the news, he can now have a reason to not always take a weeks off.

In Alfred's room, he was packing some pairs of clothes, a coat, a medical kit, pairs of shoes, a book, his dark shawl that is covered with a lots of constellation's from his papa's gifts, (he always take good care of it when he left on his own, he couldn't leave his shawl even in the time of his work,) and whatever he needs.

He decided to visit and have his week's off to his papa's, it's been quite a long time ( maybe 60 years or so-)

It's not like he was an absent son, he was just busy, he would occasionally send letters or his baked cookie's ( he's own recipe but still came from papa's original treats).

The Batfam does know Alfred had a dad who's still alive?( Which the kids would joke about how his dad is immortal) outside his life here in Gotham as the only staff in the Wayne manor.

While they were chilling in the living room, they could see Alfred heading towards the door, before he stop and took out a letter, and as he did a ring in the bell could be heard, Alfred open the door, and greeted..

The mailman? ( A very hardworking ghost mailman, just saying “Jolly ho!- how may I help send! Deliver, or even package international!” which Alfred replying “International please, for in this ### #### ## address, I need it quickly delivered through his doorsteps” then the Mailman just nodded, Alfred payed him and he just disappeared)

And Alfred sighs in relief and went to get his luggage, and bid the Batfam goodbye without even explaining what was happening (Bruce dropped his newspaper)

They might had ideas Alfred wasn't human or normal, but after that bombshell, they just can't stop the urge to find out ( like the usual thing the Batfam does, but only minimal like just knowing where he went and they wanted to have Alfred privacy)

Alfred was on his way to his papa's home very much missing the feeling of home in Britain now it's been quite a long time almost but he's getting second thoughts, what would his papa think?

( and yes, hes dad was wealthy, and through family too, He lived in a manor too,

which was a very old money manor, cause Danny? he's literally the ghost king)

Alfred decided he got this, so he took a step and took a deep breath In the front door of the home he loved and cared for in his childhood, knocking three times and the only thing he imagined is that his papa would give him a big warm hug like old times when Alfred would visit once a while before he truly left home.

The bats were in disguise, well partially disguise, the british neighbors nearby can see them looking at them like there were weird (stalking is not a healthy way...sometimes) And how can they even see them?! There literally in a camouflage!!

They saw how Alfred took a step, and knock three times...the door open and there they saw- a kid? Wait what? The black haired and blue teenager might be 16 who looks like could be adoption bait look surprised and happy and he give Alfred a hug, and Alfie just return the gesture, they were having a conversation, they couldn't here it because they were out of range and no hearing gadgets ( damn it Bruce)

Then Alfred and the teen went back to the house, and the door could only shut blocking there view of Alfred and the teen.

[cosmikazie]

i hate that "let people have fun" has become such a goddamn dogwhistle word to me in fandom spaces that i have to be suspicious about people who say it. like yeah you're not wrong but half the people i've seen who use it are really weird about child characters or siblings or some shit of a similar caliber and it's like. huh. so that's why you're saying that

[hellsbroadcaster]

the communities thing looks cool I won't lie.. but I am in agreement with a lot of folks who worry about it becoming super exclusive. And tumblr already has that huge ass problem as it is.

[savage-rhi]

Tumblr finally Twitter-fied my dashboard and I only have one thing to say:

Fuck you.

[aria0fgold]

I give up on this phone yall. I don't want it anymore. I'm living in the PC at this point. If not for proseka, my children Emu and Akito, and drawing, I'd turn this phone off and never turn it on again.

[catboyholic]

like a decade later or something and hellaween/christmizzle still live in my head rent free

loool at this point the joke has gone on way too long to stop now...

[othercrossee]

Could u imagine irida, altho trained for so long to be the next leader, never believed in herself to sucessfully be chosen? how she felt when her name was called upon after all day shed been telling her older friend palina she was the one to take on duty? Could u imagine the anxiety? The feeling that she had betrayed the only person who had treated her with an ounce of care? The feeling that her entire world was shifting? How she had to keep a smile and a prideful look to appear as the correct answer, a strong new leader to lead her people? How she realizes lina and her could never be friends on equal ground? Although it was never equal to begin with?

[springcatalyst]

yeah ill jump through these hoops. no its ok do you want me to do a fucking flip while im at it

[glitch-euphoria]

Alright everyone, reblog this post and tell me the most annoying misconceptions in your fandom in the tags. It can be literally anything, as long as people actually think it's canon and it's not. Go forth.

[siinlight]

Work has been making me feel like dying lol

[cottoncandyswisherz]

working at the pyramid

this is long a fuck for no reason so its small font lol

softdom!chris x stripper!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (double wrap w aluminum foil) p in v, oral, (male receiving) pole dancing

-

the club is dark. all lights are off and the only thing you can hear is jay, our dj, yelling into the mic. 

"okay fellas, its saturday, you know what that means. its time for our favorite girl to do her thangs. make some noise for our money maker, our heart breaker, MISS CLEOOOO!" 

and the crowd goes wild.

the music starts and i strut onto the stage, in character. 

the projector displays a burning sun behind me, the lights shines a dark orange. this is my time to shine. all these men are here watching me with hungry eyes and i'm about to feed them. 

laying with my back on the ground i wait for my cue. 

wake up to your girl for now lets call her cleopatra i watch you fix your hair then put your panties on in the mirror, cleopatra

i arch my back and pull at my hair. then your lipstick, cleopatra then your six-inch heels, catch her she's headed to the pyramid

i roll over onto my stomach and stretch my arms in front of me, kicking my feet slowly, making eye contact with some shmuck in to crowd before turning back on my back.

she's working at the pyramid tonight

the beat drops and it begins. 

grabbing the back of my heels i raise my hips in a kegel position and grind my hips slowly in the air.

then i raise my butt all the way in the air, holding myself up and bring my knees together and twirl them before straightening one and pointing my toes over my head. keeping my legs in that position i slowly bring them down

pimpin in my convos bubbles in my champagne let it be some jazz playin top floor hotel suite twisting my cigars floor model tv with the vcr

back on my stomach i slowly bring myself on all fours and dramatically throw my head back, allowing my hair to fall down my arched back. 

got rubies in my damn chain whip aint got no gas tank but it still got woodgrain

i get on my feet and bounce before standing all the way up

got your girl working for me hit the strip and my bills paid that keep my bills paid hit the strip and my bills paid keep a nigga bills paid

prancing to the pole, i lock eyes with a white boy. like everyone else, he's got a shit eating grin on his face. but unlike everyone else, he doesn't throw 1's on the stage. he throws a flurry of 20's. 

i grab the pole and saunter around it twice, then press my back against it and grind again. 

time to climb this bitch. 

she's working and the pyramid tonight

i turn around and step around the pole before swinging and wrapping my legs around it tilt my head back and now i'm spinning, as the pole rotates. i do my tricks and shit, giving them the show they want.

keeping my grip, the pole stops and throw my head all the way back, allowing myself to be upside down. only for a second though because i place my hands on the floor and flip into a split as the beat drops again. 

the men go insane, and i'm showered in bills. 

you showed up after work, i'm bathin your body touch you in places only i know you're wet and you're warm just like our bathwater can we make love before you go

i grind to the beat in various positions, before bringing myself back to pole, placing it between my heel and shoe so i can limp all the way to the top. 

once i'm there i hook one leg around the pole and drop my head. upside down once again. i spread my arms out and spin. 

shouting and money flying once again. 

the way you say my name makes me feel like i'm that nigga but i'm still unemployed you say it's big but you take it ride cowgirl

after a few seconds, i bring my body back up right and slide down. with my legs under me, i move my hips, so it looks like i'm riding

but your love ain't free no more baby but your love ain't free no more

then i fall back so i'm laying on my back, like before i started. 

she's working at the pyramid she's working at the pyramid tonight

and the lights shut off. 

just like that, i move off the stage and go to my dresser and drink some water. 

5 minutes go by and i've caught my breath. thomas, another employee comes in with my earnings from tonight. but i don't have time to count it, so i put the bag in my locker and go out to work the floor. 

a few of my regulars make their usual requests and soon i'm $150 richer. i walk over to the bar and ask for a lemonade and while i'm waiting a hand taps my shoulder. 

"i'm on break. " i mutter in an agitated tone, not bothering to turn around. 

"i'll pay double." 

and just like that, I GOT MOTION!

i turn around and see the white boy from earlier. 

with a seductive grin, i shake my head. "go find a seat on the floor and i'll come find you after my drink."

"the floor?" white boy turns around and looks at the room, full of idiots. "no, i want a private room." 

"those are 150 an hour..."

"where do i pay?"

is he for real...

"usually people who want them have a group."

"just me."

wow.

"you pay up front." he pulled his phone out.

"you guys take apple pay?"

i was flabbergasted. "uh... yeah i think so."

"great. you finish your drink and i'll come get you when everything is paid for."

-

20 minutes later i'm stepping into a private room. 

"you can play whatever music you want. i can dance to pretty much anything."

this is so fucking awkward by myself. usually there like 5 of us in here with an equal amount of guys. 

but he won't see me sweat. 

"anything?"

"yup."

he pulls his phone out, connecting to the bluetooth. 

"okay you better be telling the truth." he begins searching for a song. 

he plays the fucking macarena. 

"be so fucking for real." i fight back a smile. "i'm half naked and you want me to do the macarena?"

"hey you said you can dance to anything." he chuckles, putting his hands up. he has a small duffel bag next to him. i can just smell the money in it. 

fuck it. i think then begin the dance. 

money falls at my feet as i do the routine and laugh. 

soon the song is over and a new one starts. 

this one slower.

i start with a little floor routine that ends with me on my knees, so i can crawl over to him.

placing  my hands on his thighs, i lift myself up and turn around so my ass is right in his face and i dance, dropping and coming back up. 

i felt his hands grip my waist, and usually, clients aren't allowed to touch us, but this ones fine as a motherfucker so i'll allow it. 

he pulls me down so i'm sitting in his lap, my back to his chest. i move my hips on him and he turns my head to the side so i'm kinda looking at him. then his hand grabs my neck and his other one drops 20's. 

the bills fall down my body and land in my lap and it's the hottest thing i've ever encountered. 

with a smile, i turn around so i'm straddling him and grind some more. i feel his erection on my clit through his shorts and it makes my pussy flood. 

if i keep looking in his eyes i'm gonna cum. so i look at the wall to distract myself. but that doesn't work because he grips my jaw and forces me to look at him. 

"eyes on me mama."

fuck. 

now we're locked in. eyes trapped in each other. i can't escape. 

but i have to. 

so place his hands on my hips and lean back, so my back is arched. 

i thought this would help. 

it didn't. 

one of his hands spreads on my belly and reaches up my front, his large hand on my chest. 

i come back up and decide no physical contact was the solution. 

so i get up and begin another floor routine.

he stands up and walks over to me, looking in my eyes a-fucking-gain so i turn around and dance until his hand is on my hips again with his other one the back of my neck, bending me over. 

and now we're lowkey dry humping. 

shit. 

standing up right again, i turn around and take a step back. 

i can't fuck him. i'll lose my job. i'll lose my dignity. 

"we can't-"

the motion is swift when he tugs me towards him and my body collides with his. my hands automatically come up and land against his chest, and my eyes fall shut. 

my fingers spread out, trying to feel as much of him as i can. 

his lips brush against my ear. "tell me to stop, cleo. tell me to stop, and i will."

i pull my head back enough to look at him and think. 

i have two options. 

1. walk out and do my job like nothing happened with the worst case of blue ovaries i've ever had. 

or 

2. fuck this man and walk out and do my job like nothing happened having had what i hope will be the best orgasm i've ever had.

i don't know about you but option two seems like the obvious choice. 

"i don't want you to stop." 

his fingers grip me tighter.

"you want me to fuck you?" 

my breath hitches and i slowly nod my head. 

"my name's chris. say 'yes, chris.'"

my thighs clench as i feel my pussy flood again. "yes, chris."

a sound leaves his mouth, then its pressing against mine.

i melt into the kiss. his full lips slanting over mine, demanding them to open. 

i try to focus. i try to remember who i am and that i'm a badass who refuses to submit to a stranger. i try to focus, but there's a lightening storm going off inside my body and i can't hold onto a single bolt. 

my arms wrap around the back of his neck, anchoring him to me. 

chris' large hands move up my side, the heat of them seeping through my skin and putting my body on fire. keeping the tips of his fingers against my ribs, he spreads his grip out until his thumbs trace along the underside of my tits. 

i lean into the touch. the press of his body against mine is divine torture. but then he's gone. 

his hands leave my sides at the same time his mouth leave mine. 

my eyes blink open, but instead of finding his gaze on mine, i find his hooded eyes focused on my chest. 

with slow movements, chris reaches behind me and unclips the bra i'm wearing. it falls at my feet. 

chris tongue slides across his lower lips as he eyes my pierced nipples. he uses his thumbs to rub over each one, the buds tightening and i can no longer stay quiet. 

letting out a whimper of appreciation, i raise my arms and grip his white tee. 

"fuck." he groans the words as he palms my breasts, leaving my nipples exposed between his thumb and index finger. "fuck." he says again, dipping down and taking one small barbell into his mouth. 

"oh god.." i groan, my fingers leave his sides and dig into his hair.

this isn't the first time someone has played with the piercings but with him, its so much better.

he tugs and pulls at my other nipple and i'm so needy, i'm ready burst.

"chris." i pant. "please, chris."

letting my breast pop free, chris stands back to his full height. 

my hands reach for the string of his sweat shorts, undoing the knot and tugging them down. 

dark, tight briefs are all that stand between his cock and my hands and i tug those down too until his erection bobs free. 

of course it's perfect in every fucking way. 

my fingers wrap around his length, gliding up and down. chris' hand closes over mine and squeezes, forcing me to grip him tighter. 

freak ass. 

"take off your panties." he squeezes my hand once more before releasing his grip.

letting go of him, i shimmy out of my thong.

chris strokes himself while saying, "gimme a spin."

i smirk and slowly twirl around, making a show of it, moving my hips to the music that's still playing. 

"you're fucking perfect." then he's stepping to me, lifting me, and walking me to the bar in the corner of the room. the surface has bottles and glasses on it, so i'm half on the bar and afraid of sliding off in a heap of embarrassment. 

but then chris is using his hands to spread my thighs and when he steps between them, all thoughts other than him leave my body.

my hands grab ahold of the bottom of his shirt and pull until he chest is naked in front of me. 

at this point i'm beyond wet. i should be embarrassed considering the fact that he hasn't even touched my pussy yet, but the look on his face is pure hunger. 

he taps my thigh and lets out a command. "wider."

i press my thighs open further.

chris runs the tip of his dick up the length of my pussy. "please tell me you're on the pill."

red flags wave in my peripheral. i should stop this. i don't know him. there are worries beyond pregnancy. this man is a fucking stranger.

but instead of being smart, i nod. 

chris growls gripping the base of his cock lining it up with my more than ready entrance. the hand not on his dick runs up  my side, squeezing my breast, pinching my nipple then gripping the base of my neck. 

he presses his lips against mine while pressing into me. 

his tongue shoves into my mouth and i'm filled with him. 

all i can feel his him. 

all i can taste, all i can hear, all i can smell is chris. 

i was bracing for a quick thrust. but this... this is slow.

i arch. i writhe. i moan. 

with both hands on my ass now, chris pulls me forward, so i feel all of him. he picks up his speed. pulling out, slamming in. over and over. 

his hands are everywhere now, tugging on my piercings, gripping my ass, feeling all the skin he can. 

"chris!" i cry out, feeling my orgasm approaching. 

"that's it." he moans into my mouth.

and thumb presses on my clit and i jolt in surprise. 

"oh fuck-" my head falls back.

he circles my clit, faster and faster, pressing harder and harder. 

"eyes on me mama." he demands. my eyes flutter open and find his. "good girl." his fingers don't stop.

"i'm gonna cum."

"that's right ma. cum for me."

that was the last piece of the puzzle. 

i shatter around him, shaking and convulsing.

"yes, chris. fuck! thank you. oh my god thank you-"

i'm a mess. from one fucking orgasm. 

removing his hand from my clit, chris steps back and pulls out of me, my body arching towards his, trying to keep the contact. 

he lifts me off the bar and sets me down in front of him. my legs are like jelly so i'm relieved when i hear him say "on your knees, cleo."

that fucking name. he's just took me to mars so i guess he can know my government. "my names y/n."

a smile spreads across his face as he presses a kiss to my lips and slides his had to my jaw. "on your knees, y/n."

i comply, dropping down in front of him. he drags his thumb across my lips. "open up." my mouth opens wide and allowing him to guide his cock between my lips. 

i close my mouth around him, sucking his length and it's like all his self control flies away. 

he gathers my hair into a ponytail and presses in deeper. 

"i wanna fill you up." 

please.

he pulls back and thrusts deeper into me until i feel him in the back of my throat. 

"i wanna watch my cum dripping out of that pretty pussy." 

fuck.

"i wanna cum all over your piercings."

jesus fucking christ.

"but you gotta go back to work."

WHAT?

he pulls all the way out, letting me breathe.

"let me back in." he says 

i open my mouth and hes back, deep in my throat. "that's my good fucking girl." he groans out and throws his head back. 

i let out a moan at the praise and his whole body shakes. 

"fuuuuuuuck.." his grip on my hair tightens and he looks down at me. 

he picks up the speed of his thrusts and fucks my face with so much force i have to lean back and put my weight on my hands to stable myself. 

i feel him twitch in my mouth and he goes to pull back but i wrap my hand around the back of his thigh and move my lips to his tip, sucking. his eyes cross and his load shoots into my mouth.

chris pulls me up by the ponytail and brings my lips to his in a kiss. this one was softer, but just as passionate. 

pulling aways he says "you know i have to see you again right?" 

"i'd like that." i whisper. 

"good girl."

niyah speaks 2930 words dawg. sorry i've been MIA. me and my boyfriend broke up lol. but uhhh im backkkkk

taglist: @mattslolita @mattssluttygf @muwapsturniolo @chaossturns

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ

Scene II: he kinda looks like my ex boyfriend | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, generally gross!daemon, harwin 'big daddy' strong, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: Following the events of our mighty poll 😁😁😁😁 im excited to say what won was was always my intention and im glad you lovely readers have synced with me on it BWHWAHA sorrows sorrows prayers

"Fucking Seven," I sigh and gather my thick skirts, running up to the blue haired girl. The servant who escorted her promptly curtsies then walks away. I release the fabrics to grasp her face. I sigh in relief, "thank the gods you're here, Libby."

"What the fuck are you wearing?" she asks groggily, eyeing my dress.

I shake my head, "fuck, shit, I mean Lilibet."

"And how did you braid your hai-" Libby speaks the same time as me before freezing and raising a finger, "fuck you."

I growl and grab her hand, "no, no, no. Listen to me," I push her hand down, "you remember running through that damned arch?"

Libby wrangles out of my clutch and rather exasperatedly glares at me, "what?"

I release a shudder then grab her face again, "listen to me, Libby!" I sigh, "remember that stupid urban legend?"

Libby's face contorts as she groans. She pushes my hands off her à la 5-year-old tantrum; her blue hair, in turn, flies to her face.

"We crossed that arch," I grab her arms, "and now we're in fucking first century Westeros, Libby," I hiss, pulling her to the bed, "which is why I have to call you Lilibet-"

"Fuck you."

"-and you have to change and cover your hair," I release her to grab the clothing on the sheets, shoving them into her chest.

"What ABOUT my hair!"

I shake my head, "it's a dead giveaw-"

"You're closer to dead. You look like a fucking grandma and you have problems with my hair?!" Libby throws the clothes back on the bed, "listen, I know I got wasted and shit, and I'm sorry, but if you want me to cosplay as a peasant, just say that and get me coffee, please-"

"LIBBY!"

Libby's ear's ring, "bitch, the fu-"

"THERE IS NO COFFEE!" I grab her arms and shake her, "we're being held hostage by Daemon Targaryen and this hair," I manically point to my head, "is our fucking lifeline!"

Libby's face pinches, the initial grogginess in her expression is expelled, "Ok, calm your tits, YN-wannabe. I told you reading fics of him would fuck with your head. Imagine reading fics about King fucking Charles-"

"IT'S NOT THE SAME!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT THE SAME?! IT'S FUCKING WORS-"

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT, LIBBY!"

"HE'S THE COLONIZER OF COLONIZERS!"

"IT'S NOT A FANFIC!" I pinch my fingers together, "THIS IS NOT A FANFIC! I AM telling you we fucking crossed that arch and now we're FUCKING-"

My words cease when a creaking sound of the heavy door fills the room. The both of us turn to the door as it opens. My heart begin to race.

Lo and behold, Daemon Targaryen walks in, one hand on his hilt, eyes looking us both up and down. Libby shifts in her spot as Daemon approaches. Her demeanor immediately changes when she sees him. She straightens up and pushes her hair back, dusting off her hot pink top. Aint no way.

"Do I look good?" Libby mutters to me before Daemon is in front of us. My eyes blow wide and my jaw slacks. Be so fucking for real. She fixes her radioactive blue hair and my upper lip curls in disgust and annoyance.

Libby and Daemon lock gazes; the former smirks, "hey, cutie pie."

I slap my hand to my face. The sound reverberates in the room.

"What is a cutie pie?" Daemon asks stoically.

Libby leans on one leg, "you."

"Seven fucking hells," I quip, roughly dragging my palm down my skin.

Daemon turns to me before tilting his head. He mirrors Libby's stance and his lips faintly curve upward, "in this era, girl, pies are food. What would I have in common with a type of pie?"

Libby lets out an airy chuckle, "you ren fair boys really like roleplay, huh?"

Daemon raises a brow, "I assure you, nothing about me is boyish."

Libby bites her lip and claws the air, "rawr."

I am unable to mask the sound I make. Daemon pulls his head back at Libby's actions.

I grit my teeth and grab her arm; she shakes me off, making sure to giggle as she does this. Daemon chuckles as he turns to me, "I see why you are keen on keeping her."

"You can keep me if you like," she blurts, stepping in front of me to garner his attention. Daemon steps back.

I grab Libby's arm again. This time, with much force that the ends of my hair whip around. I whisper-yell, "you do know that is Daemon Targaryen, right?"

Libby barely turns to me as she mutters, "what?"

"You're flirting with the Daemon Targaryen," I sneer, "first of his name," I lean in and whisper, "manwhore."

Libby looks at me from over her shoulder to me then back to Daemon, "ahhhh. A cosplayer."

"Libby, I swear to g-"

"It's pretty good," she crosses her arms then points, "is that a wig or hair dye?"

Daemon furrows his brows, face contorting at her words.

My eyes widen and suddenly the silver hair on my scalp itches like it doesn't belong to me. Well, see-- it doesn't! Not in a way that counts to the incestuous gremlin!

From the way his composure tightens, I could tell he was no longer amused. I yank Libby back, shooting her a glare, "literally shut the fuck up."

She scowls at my pressed tone, "what? I was just asking-"

"Hair dye?" Daemon blurts way too loud, shutting us both up.

We turn to him as he looks between us. He tilts his head and adjusts his grip on his sword. He straightens his posture. In that moment, his expression was changed dramatically. He reaches out for Libby's hair, inspecting it in his hand. His violet eyes dart to hers, "so, your hair is blue because of dye?"

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck.

I grab Libby's hand before she can think of saying some bullshit. She does not move a muscle as I squeeze her palm.

Daemon raises his brows impatiently.

"What?" she mumbles.

I clench my jaw at her ditzy response.

Daemon narrows his eyes, "are you so dimwitted not to understand me the first time?

Fucking fuck. A shiver runs down my spine. Libby raises her brows and turns to me as I stare at Daemon. I blurt, "it is a right of passage for her family."

Daemon eyes me hotly.

I release Libby's hand and scramble to the bed where my clothes were folded into a small sack. I go through my things and pull out my phone, opening my gallery, showing Daemon a photo of Libby and our friends with bright colored hair. I lie, "these are her cousins."

Daemon pulls his head back at the sight of the photo on my phone; it was the exact reaction he had when I showed him a screenshot of the maps of this very place.

Libby blinks rapidly as Daemon comes to my side. The man basically breathes down my neck as he looks a the screen like a boomer. He narrows his eyes and pulls back his chin.

I point to Sandra, who had pink hair, "they do this to... commemorate the war-- of their people."

Daemon looks at Libby again, seemingly expecting more of an explanation. I look at Daemon and begin to panic at the aloof expression Libby held. I place my hand on his arm and rub it gently. Thankfully, he's still a simple man and it seems to diffuse his unbelieving demeanor, "it's hard for her to talk about. It was a war over dye and trading. A lot of her family... were casualties."

Fuck. WELL, real wars have been fought for WAAAY less.

Daemon turns to me, "I find it hard to believe such traditions exist two thousand years from now."

"And yet," I wave my phone, "you could not also believe you were listening to music with me moments ago."

He hums and turns back to Libby. He nods, "well, have her dress," he turns back to me, "I want to break fast with you before the tourney, dragonling."

I nod rapidly. Daemon gives a smile and heads for the door, "you remember your way to the solar?"

"I do."

He eyes Libby as he walks off then turns to me, "very good."

The moment the door closes, Libby explodes, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!

"WE'RE IN FUCKING FIRST CENTURY WESTEROS," I whisper-yell, "now keep your voice down, you stupid fucking bitch, and change!"

It took me explaining everything that happened in detail as she got in her dress AND getting lost in the fucking castle then actually finding our way to the solar for Libby to believe I wasn't playing the most elaborate prank on her.

And when we got there, a servant informed us that the prince had been summoned by the king and that we should eat by ourselves.

Libby and I sit across each other. We decide to forfeit the fact the food could be poisoned because we were way too hungry not too eat. This blue haired rat, however, couldn't fucking stop saying the food could use salt and pepper. We were mortified when a servant came to us with a mortar of just that.

Before we could even say thank you, she runs off.

I snap at Libby, who scratches her headscarf for the nth time, "do you fucking understand you're a terrifying aristocrat right now?!"

"I'M SORRY!" Libby makes a repentant expression.

"You should be!"

"It's just that everything is fucking boiled and-"

The sound of the door opening ends Libby's yapping. We both snap to see who was entering.

In walks the dark haired man from the night before. Gold cloak, armor, and all. He steps in front of us and bows, "good morn."

"Hubba hubba," Libby tucks imaginary hair behind her ear.

"Fucking," I snap to her, "stop."

I look back at the man trying to remember his name, I can't seem to.

"Wait! Is this the madly good looking guard you were talking about?!" Libby speaks WAY to loud for a conversation between two people across each other.

The man makes a sound as he wipes his lips. My eyes widen and I sink in my chair.

"You clearly have a type," Libby mutters as she unabashedly eyes him. He is undeterred. She tilts her head, "he looks like your ex."

I snap back at her, "w h a t?"

"Or I mean he would look like him," she points her thumb, "if he wasn't so whiny, short, and pathetic," Libby turns to me.

"He literally looks nothing like Jon."

"He does!" she leans in, "dark curls, thick brows!"

I shove a bread roll into her mouth.

"Prince Daemon tasked me to be your chaperone for the day," he says, clutching his hand in front of him.

"I've always wanted a hot bodyguard," Libby smiles and leans back on her chair, "well, don't just stand there," she beckons him, "come join us for breakfast."

I pretend to fix my silver hair as I clear my throat, "breaking fast."

"Breaking fast," Libby corrects with a grin, "and what was your name again, pretty boy?"

I groan as I shove a bread roll into my mouth.

"Harwin Strong, my lady," Harwin mutters with another respectful nod, turning to me, "and please, forgive me for last night's encounter, Lady Gryffindor."

Libby titters and slaps her hand on her mouth.

"If I came off as impertinent or-"

"No, please, sir Strong," I raise a hand to him, "you were doing your job-- I mean your duty. Nothing needs to be forgiven."

"By the way," Libby raises a finger, "I'm Lady Hufflepuff and I would love it if you sat down next to me."

Harwin turns to Libby and I resist the urge to facepalm. My face twitches and I watch as Harwin shifts in his spot. I blurt, "you can call her Lilibet."

"Fuck you," Libby snaps.

I snap back, "well, that is your name, is it not?"

"I'm not entering my nun era."

I make a throaty sound and grab a goblet, "clearly," I take a sip, "but with that getup-"

"Hey!" Libby bangs on the table, "you're the one who made my cunt levels drop with this milkmaid outfit."

Harwin begins to cough.

"What? Like I chose that for you?"

"No," she props her elbow on the table, "but Daemon gave you a city girl-"

"Prince Daemon."

"-outfit and he made me look like your ugly handmaiden."

"Again," I brush my platinum hair out of my face, "that wasn't my choice, Lilibet."

"My ladies-" Harwin interjects, making us both turn to him. He clears his throat and offers pinched smile, "I am honored by the invitation, but I will stand watch out-"

"Oh, don't be rude and just sit down already," Libby presses with a playful look, "there's way more food than the two of us can eat."

And though she was correct, I kick her underneath the table.

Libby yelps and eyes me. I dodge her when she kicks me back.

"I don't think it appropri-"

"Nonsense!" Libby calls, turning back to Harwin as she fails to kick me again, "please, just join us."

"LILIBET!" I whisper-yell.

"UGH!" she turns to me with disgust and whisper-yells back, "stop fucking calling-"

"You do know he could literally be like your great-great-great-great-"

She raises a hand and cuts me off with a guttural groan, "oh miss me with that bullshit! You're LITERALLY a Targaryen!"

"I will wait outside," the man calls, making us turn to him.

Harwin walks off and Libby raises the bowl of bread rolls, "THE BREAD ROLLS ARE ACTUALLY REALLY NICE THOUGH!"

I wipe my face, "Libby, we're going to fucking die."

"Not before I try myself some Harwin Strong."

"SIT BACK DOWN."

"I'M SAT!"

When we finished eating, Harwin escorted us to the arena to watch the tourney.

"Are you married, Harwin? Can I call you Harwin?" Libby asks.

I shoot her a look, "Lilibet."

Libby ignores me. The man we were following keeps walking, not bothering to look back at us, "you may call me whatever you like, my lady."

Libby and I turn to each other with a gasp. No, cause why he playing like that?

"And I am not married," he looks over his shoulder, eyes locking with mine momentarily.

Libby's jaw drops and begins to shake me. She mutters loudly under her breath, "bitch. why he looking at you, and not at me?"

"Probably because you're fucking stupid!" I retort quickly in the same manner, unable to mask my giddy tone.

Harwin clears his throat again as he looks front. Neither of us catch this.

"Libby, be so fucking real though," I grab her arm and whisper, "that's someone's grandpa."

"Yeah, well, today, he's my daddy," she mumbles then bites her lips, as if it could minimize her grin.

Harwin makes a face and whispers under his breath, "daddy?"

When we get to the arena, the sound of the cheering crowds make both of us excited, up until someone screamed in terror and the crowds continued cheering anyway. Harwin gave us spots quite near the front, and the sight of the horses and their long-ass sticks left me feeling uneasy.

Libby shoves into me as she points to the far right. I, in turn, collide into Harwin's bulky armor. Before I can apologize for it, she squeals, "LOOK, IT'S DAEMON!"

"Libby, he's the prince!"

"TAKE A PHOTO! He looks so good!"

I give her a look as I straighten up, "girl, shut the fuck up."

Without another thought, she pulls out her phone from her bosom and wipes the moisture off the screen.

Harwin looks away, eyes wide, pretending he did not just see that happen.

"Stop it! You have no idea how bad this could-"

"Oh, shut up, you showed Daemon your phone!" Libby makes a face.

"THAT'S BECAUSE HE WOULDN'T LET ME GET REUNITED WITH YOU IF I DIDN'T CONVINCE HIM I WAS FROM-."

"Shush," she opens her camera and begins to take photos of Daemon. She shouts his name along with the other spectators and I beg her to at least call him prince.

"What is that contraption," Harwin asks, eyes glued on Libby's cracked screen.

I turn to Harwin, to Libby's phone, back to him, "it's, err... an image capturing... box."

Harwin nods at me though his face is visibly confused. He furrows his brows as Libby switches to front cam and puckers her lips out, "SAY CHEESE, DADDY!"

The color in Harwin's face drains when he sees himself on the screen. I clutch his arm and give him a look, "it's okay. It's not dangerous."

"Will it capture my image?" he mutters and covers his face. He mutters under his breath, "I'd like to keep my face."

Fuck. "N-not like that. It's... it's not black magic."

All the while, Libby is pressing the buttons on her phone, rapidly taking photos no one asked for.

A few people around us begin to mutter to themselves. I find myself looking over my shoulder, catching a bunch of men staring right at us. I eye Libby, nonverbally telling her to quit it. She gives me a look and snaps a few more pics of Daemon before shoving her phone back in her cleavage.

I release a breath when she does, that, and ser Harwin's arm that I did not realize I was still latched on to. I offer a look, "sor- apologies."

He nods, "all is well, my Lady."

And yeah sure, maybe it was. Maybe all was well. Daemon was winning the tournament-- or tourney, I guess; I have no idea what the difference was. I mean I could barely watch because they were fucking gladiator-ing each other, but I knew he was winning because after every crash, came a trumpet and the announcement of it.

So yeah. Maybe it was fine then, in its own sick way, but then Libby pulled me by the arm and said, "I have to take a shit."

"What?"

She gives me a look, "I need to take a shit."

"Libby," my eyes widen.

"I know!" she grabs my shoulders as the crowd cheers over whatever barbaric brawl was happening this time, "you think I want to know what their loos look like?" she shakes me, "am I going to have to shit in a river?"

I wipe my face and turn over to Harwin. His eyes turn from the match to me when I pull at his cloak, "mmm.... Lilibet has to... ... to poop."

Libby slaps my arm. I turn to her, frazzled. She hisses, "he doesn't know what poop is."

"You think I don't know that?!"

"I beg your pardon, my lady?" Harwin shifts to us, his thick brows knitting.

"Yeah, one second," I raise a finger at him, looking back at Libby, "I don't fucking remember the word."

Libby sighs, "Just tell him I need to sh- I NEED TO SH-"

I slap my hand on her mouth, "QUIT IT!"

Libby pushes my hand off, "WHAT?!"

"HE'S NOT GONNA KNOW WHAT THAT-"

"EVERYONE FUCKING KNOWS WHAT TAKING A SH-"

"NO, THERE'S A TERM THAT THEY USE! Think about it! Have you never watched a BBC period drama?!"

"BITCH, YOU KNOW I ONLY WATCH NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC!"

"OK, THEN THINK OF WHAT DAVID ATTENBOROUGH SAYS WHEN THE ANIMALS ARE POOPI-"

"DO YOU GENUNINELY BELIEVE THEY SHOW FOOTAGE OF ANIMALS POOPING ON TELEVISION?!"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW. IN ALL TV HISTORY THERE HAS TO BE AT LEAST ONE TIME WHERE-"

"HARWIN," Libby shoves me to the side and grabs the man, "I HAVE TO SHIT."

Seven father fucking hells. I dig my fingers into the roots of my light hair and to Harwin, whose lips part and brows furrow. He nods, "I will lead you to the privy," he turns to me, "stay here in the meantime."

We both nod. Libby walks to Harwin's and makes a face at me, "they call it a privy on the BBC, do they? Sounds like an office."

"Libby- Just- if push comes to shove, tell him you'll shit in the river."

Libby groans as Harwin leads her off. She shoots me a glare, "I am not shitting in a river with Harwin watching!"

I shriek in shock when there is a loud crashing sound. My hands dart to my ears just as the crowd roars. A loud voice announces the victory of Prince Daemon from House Targaryen.

I drag my hands down my cheek and clutch my chest.

I dare to look at the casualties on the playing grounds, but to my horror, I see something far worse. Daemon's horse is galloping over to me. He rips his helmet off, tosses it, and sighs through a grin. He points his stick to me and loudly calls, "might a fair woman like you reward me something sweet?"

My eyes widen and I feel the entire stadium turn to me. My heart races and my jaw loosens inch by inch.

Daemon shoves his stick to the side and reaches his arms out to me, "a kiss perhaps?"

Rat, I wasn't even watching you play. Why should I reward you for winning a game I didn't watch?

I cannot help the sound that leaves me when the other audience members begin to spur me on and nudge me. Fuck. I hate peer pressure. I walk towards the railing and eye Daemon as if I had laser vision.

"I CANNOT REACH YOU!" I scream back, momentarily shocked by the ferocity and fury of my voice. I gulp and clear my throat, rubbing my neck that I would so like to keep. I raise my hands, "I must then stay here!"

Daemon, face shining with sweat, colored with dirt and blood, beams as he looks up. He chuckles and dismounts his steed. He walks closer to me and begins to remove his armor, "then come down to me, woman!"

The crowd loses it. The women around me scream that I should come down to him.

Maybe if I jump head first, I'll be done with all this bother.

Fuck, but then Libby would be all alone.

I groan under my breath, "fucking Libby. This is all her fucking fault!"

I look back at Daemon, who had two men helping him out of his armor at this point. His eyes are on me; they probably didn't leave. His lips are curved higher, "fear not," he smirks deeper, "did I swear to protect you?"

The crowd is feral. I glance around the place. Isn't the fucking king right there?!

"No!" I look down at him and shake my head, "you swore not to harm us!"

Daemon laughs, "is there a difference?"

"YES!" I blurt, eyes wide.

Daemon stands alone bellow me, free of his upper body armor. He raises his hands up to me, "then believe me when I say you will not be harmed when you jump."

"Oh gods," I grip the railing and screw my eyes shut, "I fucking hate this man."

"Will you make all of King's Landing wait days for you, girl?"

I growl as the people around me continue to pressure me to jump. Had there not been people around, maybe I would have spit at him. And yet - I climb the railing - I am nothing against peer pressure.

Daemon steps forward, arms higher, laugh louder.

The stadium gasps while heart leaps into my mouth when I let go of the railing and drop straight down. The collision is just as messy as I had dreaded it to be and the next thing I know, I've smack dabbed atop the fucking prince of the realm, crushing into the fucking dirt. So much for catching me.

Yet somehow, Daemon manages to let out giggles while the crowd cheers. His arms tighten around me as I push myself up on his chest, "my," he blows silver hair out of his face, "I didn't actually think you'd do it."

"Fuck you," I snap and shove myself off him.

I don't even know where I'm even going, but I storm off anyway, feeling like the biggest idiot in the known galaxy.

But of course, Daemon is quick to get up and grab my arm. He speaks some High Valyrian bullshit, but I care little for it and pry my limb out of his clutch.

It seemed that was the wrong course of action though, cause the next thing I knew, he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. The audience flourishes over the way he took me like a piece of meat.

I fucking hate it here.

Make no mistake, I did my due diligence and tried to wrangle out of his grip. But he was pumped with far too much adrenaline, and his inflated ego would not let him let me go.

Eventually, I got tired and just let it happen. The moment he put me down when we arrived at his chambers though, I shoved him off and distanced myself as much as I could, "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Daemon responds in High Valyrian, which effectively pisses me off more.

"I don't have TIME to decode your dragon-heir bullshit, so quit it! I am not a toy!"

Daemon chuckles as he takes a towel and wipes his face, "no?"

"Look," I snap, "I know you're, like, touch deprived and emotionally constipated," I stretch my arm out, "I mean, your family-- our family is a fucking wreath, so you're bound to be fucked up in the head, but please," I press my palms together, "PLEASE just be normal until the end of the day, Dae- Prince Daemon."

Daemon laughs as I go off on him. He watches me for a moment, throws the towel to his bed, and tilts his head.

My chest heaves as we stare at each other. Instead of relaxing, I begin to grow more tense with every passing second. I take a deep breath, but it does nothing for my nerves when Daemon walks forward.

"The truth in the matter is," he raises a hand, "you need me."

My stomach drops when he yanks me by the waist. His violet eyes dart down to my heaving chest. He places his one hand on my collarbone, "shhh."

The feel of him pressing onto my flesh does the exact opposite of what he wants. But no-- with how the corner of his mouth curves upward, I think it's actually the exact reaction he wanted.

When I try to push him off, he pulls me tighter into him and repeats, "you need me."

My nostrils flare but I stop repelling him.

"You need me," he lifts his gaze, "but I don't. I want you, but you need me."

I clench my jaw tightly. I am unable to contain my flinch when his hand strokes my side. He continues, "you need me to open the gate for you and your friend come midnight, do you not?"

I turn away from him.

He nudges me and asks louder, "do you not?"

"Yes," I whimper as I shut my eyes.

He hums, "then," he takes my chin in his fingers, "you'll be what I want, riñītsos." Little girl. He raises his brows. "If say you are a toy, then you say, 'yes, my prince'. If I say you are a rug, then I expect you under my heel. If I say you are my dog, then you ought to bark," he releases my chin, "now, bark, my sweet."

I glare at him, "if you want a dog, I suggest you go up North." I push him by his chest.

He laughs. He grabs my arms and pushes me back. I panic when I fumble on my feet and find myself pressed against a wall. "You're right, riñītsos. How wrong of me to liken dragon fire to dog breath."

I gasp when my back hits the wall.

"A shame," he tucks my silver hair behind my ear, "your parents did not give you violet eyes."

I am frozen in my spot when his lips brush against mine. My breath hitches when he simultaneously presses me back with his chest and pulls me forward with his hands.

I don't kiss him back. My brain was in a glitch. He doesn't seem to mind and feasts on my lips. The moment I have the wits to move, he pulls away and whispers, "worry not," he kisses my jaw, "I'll give your babes violet eyes."

Hearing that really snapped me out of my trance.

I finally turn away from him. It does not deter him though, and he makes due with kissing my neck. He moans against me, "you smell divine."

"I-it's called," I push him back, "personal hygiene."

He snakes his arms around me, "you were sent to me by the gods."

"I travelled here by accident!"

"And I plan to make good of this happy accident."

I fight him off when he claws my skirt up. I weigh my chances with screaming and with talking sense into him. I ponder of telling him my vagina is cursed, but then I think he'd be into that.

"Don't fight it," Daemon grabs my wrists, "I will quench the fires of the Targaryen blood in you that calls out to me."

"My blood does not call out to you!" I whimper.

"You may be Gryffindor by name, but you will be a Targaryen once I am done with you."

And then the doors slam open. "Your grace!"

"Harwin," I call out to the man that burst in.

Daemon growls and but does not pull away or turn, "I'm busy."

"It's Lady Hufflepuff," Harwin speaks through strained breath.

"Who?"

My stomach drops, "wait!" I push Daemon harder, "what happened to Libby?"

Daemon finally looks over his shoulder with annoyance, "what happened?"

Harwin takes a moment to respond. The dread that courses through me makes me strong enough to shove Daemon off. He grunts as I do so. I walk over to the dark haired man, "Harwin."

He clenches his jaw and turns to his feet, "I took her to the privy. She said she was having... trouble using it and that I should call a servant to help. So... I fetched a servant, but when I returned," he clears his throat, "she was gone."

I bring my hand to my mouth.

Daemon walks up behind me, "you lost a woman in King's Landing, Strong?"

"I- I did not think much of it at first," Harwin turns to Daemon, "at first I thought she may have just finished and was playing a trick on me," he glances to me but looks away at once, "but then I saw her contraption on the ground-"

I gasp.

"And then I saw a shoe... and then her headscarf-"

"Dear gods, Libby," my voice strains.

"She was taken by a group of three men," Harwin speaks sternly, "I know not for, but they've since regret their decision."

"And Libby!" I jump and grab his arm, "where is she now?!"

Harwin feels guilt eat away at him when he catches my distraught expression. He turns to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, "she's being attended to by the maesters in the ward-"

I dash to the door, intent on reaching her, though I had no idea where I was going.

"It's this way!" Daemon calls.

When I turn to see where he meant, he was already right behind me. He grabs my arm and leads me down the hall.

The moment we get to the ward, I run around and look for Libby. I am shocked solid in my place when I see the cot she is laid upon. My hands slap to my face upon catching her messy hair, dirty skin, and tattered clothes. Her waist was bound in bandages, but that didn't prevent the red to seep through from her side.

I drop to my knees and crawl all the way over to her. I yelp when I feel how cold her hands are. Hot tears burn down my cheek, "Libby, please!"

My breathing becomes more erratic.

"I've spoken to the maesters," Daemon's voice sounds from behind.

"Fucking tetanus, fucking bacterial shock-"

"They said she lost some blood but she will recov-"

"SHUT UP!" I snap and get to my feet, "YOU GET A FUCKING FEVER HERE AND YOU DIE!" I point an accusing finger, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!"

"ME?" Daemon snaps back, "that Strong fool was the one that took his eyes off her!"

"If you had just let us stay in your chambers like I begged you to-- but no! You wanted us to watch your stupid fucking game, you EGOTISTICAL BASTARD!"

He steps forward and barks back, "she still would have needed to go to the privy, you whining nitwit!"

"Why did they even take her?!" I whine.

Daemon does not respond.

"I do not contest that the fault is mine," another voice speaks.

Daemon and I turn to Harwin. His hands are linked in front of him, and only then do I realize they were bloody. More tears gush down my face when the man continues, "it was my duty to keep her-"

"It doesn't matter now, does it!?" I wail, waving my hands around. I fall back on my knees and turn to Libby. Her blue hair was stuck on her sweaty skin. And as I wiped her forehead, it felt like a rehash of last night, except worse. I sob, "nothing's gonna change the fact she got fucking stabbed."

Daemon looks from me to Harwin, "what of the men that took her?"

"I killed them."

My expression drops as I turn to Harwin.

The two stare at each other for a moment.

"Well, we can't question the dead, now can we," Daemon mutters, "feed their corpses to Caraxes."

"W-wait," I feel bile rise up my throat, "did- did you actually kill them?"

Harwin looks at me but doesn't respond. He walks off when Daemon orders him to get a chair. I turn to Daemon and whimper, "he didn't actually kill them... did he actually kill them?"

Daemon nods, "he did," and grabs my arms, "do not insult yourself by sitting on the floor."

For once, I do not fight him back. I let him bring me to my feet. The moment I'm stood before him, he takes my cheeks and wipes my tears.

I shake my head, "I have to take her back."

Daemon raises his brows, "you would dare to move her in such a state?"

"It's the only way she will survive," I mumble through trembling lips.

The prince looks at me for a moment. Harwin finally brings a chair. He places it beside us then stations himself by the door. Neither Daemon nor I make a move for the chair. The former asks, "and you think you can carry her all the way back?"

"Daemon," I grab his arms, "I just have to get her back. Once I'm there, it'll be half the work done."

Daemon releases a breath. He takes my silver locks and fondles with the ends, "and what if I do not want you to leave."

Fuck. "Please," I beg, "please. We both know I don't belong here."

I can see it clearly. It was so clear that those words meant nothing to him. It was talking to a brick wall. I sigh and wipe my face, "I'll do what you want. Whatever it is, I'll do, as long as you let us go by midnight."

Daemon narrows his eyes.

I muster up the most sincere expression I am capable of.

"You will give me whatever I want?"

I close my eyes and shake my head, "yes... my prince."

He does not respond. Daemon turns from me to Libby. He pulls away and calls, "Strong."

"Your grace," Harwin responds.

"She could manage on the back of an ass, could she not?"

Harwin thinks for a moment then nods, "she could."

"Then fetch me an ass," Daemon says. Harwin promptly complies.

Daemon doesn't make me do anything besides sit on his lap while we watched Libby for the rest of the night. I knew in my gut that was not what he wanted out of me, but he didn't say otherwise and I didn't bring it up. Soon enough, it was midnight and there I, Daemon, Harwin, and Libby, sat on a donkey, stood before the open gate of the castle.

Rather than thinking this was stupid and it wasn't going to fucking work, I prayed under my breath to the Seven that we be delivered from this nightmare.

But every time I felt tranquil, the donkey made a sound and I just knew it had to go. What the hell was I going to do with the donkey when I got back to the city anyway?

I clutch the satchel containing our things around my shoulders, "I'll carry her instead."

Daemon and Harwin turn to me and mutter at the same time, "what?"

"I don't want to be responsible for the donk- the animal when I get there."

"Just leave the ass behind," Daemon mutters, rather annoyed.

I grab Libby, who I was already keeping upright, and wrap her arms around my shoulders, "I can carry her."

"No, you can't," Daemon mutters.

Harwin adds, "you are not in the right mind to do this."

"Just," Daemon add, "set the beast free when-"

"I can't just let a donkey loose in King's Landing, Daemon!" I snap, "now please! Help me-"

The bells begin to ring.

I immediately panic.

A surge of adrenaline helps me gather Libby onto my back. "Fucking hell," I grunt and try to fix her on me.

Daemon shakes his hand, "here, let me-"

"I GOT IT!" I scream as the sound of the bell tolling makes my entire body burn with agitation.

I shift Libby on my back one last time and beeline to the gate.

Harwin and Daemon watch. It's impossible to tell which of them is more skeptic in the moment.

I begin to struggle and nearly trip on the annoying skirts hindering my feet. Harwin steps forward, "watch your step."

Daemon eyes him in annoyance, "how helpful."

"Fuck," I panic and begin to walk faster towards the gate, "fucking hell, it's not even that far!"

I reach the large, tunnel-like gate and can't help but close my eyes, afraid that if I could see where I was going, it wouldn't work.

Then SPLAT! I fall face down on the ground.

I scream and immediately roll Libby off me, uncaring that it hurt me, that it hurt her, and quickly get on my feet. I drag her corpse-like body across the expanse and cry as I do so.

I was manic. I was delirious. The sound of the echoing bells did not help the situation at all. I couldn't stop pleading to the gods as I tugged my best friend across the ground. I couldn't even open my eyes because I didn't think my prayers were heard.

"Enough!" a voice calls.

No. NO! That was fucking Daemon. GET THE FUCK AWAY!

I feel someone mess with Libby's body. I screech and refuse to let her go, "LET US GO, DAEMON!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"NO!" I squeal, finally opening my eyes. I release Libby and lunge at Daemon when I spot him. We crumble to the ground. Once he's on his back, I begin to beat him. It unfortunately doesn't take long for him to overpower me.

"ENOUGH!" he barks, both my hands now trapped in his.

"LET US GO!" I cry.

Daemon shakes his head, "STOP IT!"

"WE'RE GOING BACK!" I try to punch my way out of his grip. It doesn't work.

"Look at me!" Daemon yells, "you dragged her through."

"Get off me!"

"You've done it!!"

I flinch when he shakes me.

"You did it!" Daemon exclaims as he sits up, hands cradling my shoulders, "we're in your time now."

I finally register his words. Daemon looks around, "when you said ruins, I expected an empty castle, not... ruins."

A gasp leaves me when I hear a loud roar from the sky. Daemon looks up when I do, and I calm down when I realize it was only an airplane.

"Was that a dragon?" Daemon asks.

"No," I pull away from him, "that's an-" wait. I stare at him. Daemon fucking Targaryen came back with me?

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 11

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n getting kicked out my house this week, got a new job, blah de blah. here's a chapter. oh, and a shameless self promotion, go read my skzflix fic leave? pretty please? it aint my finest work but i promise it's good?

previous | masterlist | next

---

The door is already open when you arrive, inviting you inside. Like someone had known exactly when you'd gotten in the elevator, or sensed the moment you stepped foot in their hallway. Or this was just how they lived, the door open to invite each other in and out, though that didn't seem likely. You shut it behind you when you enter anyway, the creak and slam of the heavy door loud enough to alert the occupants of the apartment to your presence.

The sound of Changbin shouting over someone follows, drowning out the noise of the door. Everything is normal, then. 

The short hall by the front door is empty except for a pile of scattered shoes - you add yours to the line as you pass through, glimpsing a group of the boys sitting on a couch at the other end. It feels weird to stand there and see them at the other end, the way they've been for years before you came; your empty hands feel awkward, and your feet are too soft against their floorboards, and the closer you get, the more rowdy they become, their eyes so fixed to some game they're playing on the TV that they don't even notice you slipping into the room. You pause for a moment, listening to them howl as their game characters slip off the screen, and then continue on your way to the kitchen, your fingers twisting together restlessly before you.

Chan and Minho are there, sequestered away from the chaos erupting in the other room while they move between the benchtop and the stove, avoiding each other in a way that seems practised. The air is filled with the smell of food cooking, the steam rising from the bubbling pot on the stove warming the air in the small kitchen. Chan turns as he sees you out of the corner of his eye, smiles, and then points back towards the other boys.

"Out," he says, in a voice that brooks no argument; and you'd almost think that you'd broken some rule, except for the grin that eats at his face, amused at himself without even trying.

You stop in the doorway, hovering between the two groups. "I was just going to see if you needed any help," you say.

"Nope," he answers. "You're not allowed in here. Go and sit down."

You pull a face, one that must be funny if Minho glances away, a smile struggling to break through the blank face he's trying to pull. "I already physically kicked Felix out of here," Chan adds, a wooden spoon brandished in the air in warning. "I'll do it to you too."

Your hands come up, your feet backing out of the doorway, and yet, you can't help but laugh. You're feeling...relaxed, here, in a way you haven't since leaving Midnight those two months ago. Maybe it's because you'd spent those months grinding away at what seemed like an insurmountable hill of work, maybe because in the last week, the days that had passed since you'd walked home with Han and Chan, things had suddenly become easier within this group. The reason doesn't matter, you suppose, only that you know now that he's joking, and that it's something you can laugh at. That he's included you in the same joke he's used on Felix.

"Hey, hey, hey," a voice says behind you. "Watch where you're going. You have enough trouble walking forwards."

You turn on your heel, already rolling your eyes at the shit-eating grin on Seungmin's face. Funny, how easy it  to fall into cameraderie with him once you've broken the ice between you; only a day ago, it'd still felt like you weren't much more than acquaintances, until you'd made the decision to fall over on the way to their shared vocal lesson, the only thing Seungmin had ever reached out to offer to you.

Well, made the decision is a stretch. Falling over is too. You'd only stumbled over the sidewalk, and you certainly hadn't planned to make a fool of yourself. Maybe the story that Seungmin was selling was so convincing it was starting to affect your memory. He wasn't mean about it at least, for all that he was known to pretend to be mean when the opportunity arose; if anything, the last few hours of him spreading increasingly wild tales and the others relaying them back to you had been fun. Something different than the usual grind of your days, a joke that might stick around longer than the few minutes in which it's being laughed at.

In this moment, you stand up a little bit straighter and hope that your cheeks don't turn red. "I'm great at walking," you posture, and then struggle not to laugh at how preposturous you sound, your lips fighting against you as they curve into a smile. Something to work on, maybe, if you wanted to compete with his and Minho's deadpan humour. 

"Except for the part where you hit the concrete," Seungmin says, unaffected by the way your eyes crease and your mouth splits in two. "Then you're really bad at walking."

"I tripped," you insist, and you move forward as if to slide past him to get to the couch that the others sit on. He falls in beside you without hesitation rather than letting you pass by, a ghost at your side. "I wasn't even close to falling."

"Everyone says that you fell though," Seungmin insists. "You think everyone would lie?"

"I think you would lie when you told everyone else the story."

Grinning, Seungmin strides out in front of you, leading the way around the couch so that he can stand right in front of the TV. "Move up," he tells Felix, who sits at the end of the couch, neck craned to watch the game the others are playing around Seungmin. 

His eyes slide from Seungmin to you, trying your best to stay out of the way despite having been dragged into mischief. "Y/N," he says, shifting over and patting the seat next to him. "You wanna sit here?"

A smile spreads out across your face. "I do," you reply, and slide past Seungmin to fit yourself in the small space he manages to make beside him. "Thanks."

"You said you would save my seat," Seungmin says, pointing a finger at Felix, who waves him out of the way. He sits on the arm of the chair instead, balancing precariously as he pulls out his phone.

"They kicked you out of the kitchen as well?" Felix asks sympathetically, one eye on the TV and the other on you.

You nod. "I was just going to see if they needed help."

"Yeah," Felix sighs. "I'm not even bad at cooking."

"I'm banned from the knives," Seungmin puts in without looking up.

You glance at him, staring intently at his phone. "Why isn't that surprising?" you question.

"Because he's Seungmin," Felix puts in. "Same way I know he's lying about seeing you fall over."

Seungmin sighs. "I didn't fall," you say, before he can decide which lie to seed this time. "I tripped. I didn't fall."

"It's no fun if none of you believe me," Seungmin grouses.

The game on the TV finishes with a fanfare that fills the whole room, drowned out only by the racous cries of cheating from the boys playing it. The sound makes you wince, leaning away from them; Felix's hands come up to cover his ears, his cry for help also disappearing under the noise they make. You wouldn't be surprised if the neighbours were doing the same thing, or marching towards their door with pitchforks in hand. How do they even have neighbours, when they're capable of noise like that?

"They're going to get complaints again," Seungmin says, like he'd been reading your mind. 

"Hey, hey! Hey!" a voice calls over the noise, and you turn in unison to see Chan's head poking out of the door, the wooden spoon waving in his hand once again. "No yelling!"

"I'd say he looks like he's our dad, but he just kind of looks unhinged," Felix comments, only his eyes and the blonde hair that tufts up on top of his head peeking up over the back of the couch. The rest of him has slid down out of Chan's sight, like if he hides, he won't get caught up in whatever trouble the others are causing.

"He looks like my grandfather," Seungmin adds as the older boy disappears, making no effort to hide at all. "He was crazy too."

Felix grins, wild and wolfish. "He just keeps getting older."

"It's so sad he's going to die so soon," Seungmin agrees.

The noise dies down, the game switched back to a more neutral home screen as boys wander off this way and that. Felix shifts over, enough that you can give Seungmin a space on the couch - you think, for a moment, about making him go around to the other side, but Changbin is still sitting there, looking peacefully unbothered by whatever chaos Seungmin is surely capable of unleashing and it's much easier to just shift over and let him slump down in the corner than to set him off. It disturbs Changbin anyway, somehow; as Seungmin sits down, he sits up straight, leaning around Felix to look at you.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, drawing your attention over to him. "Where were you this morning? I didn't see you in the practise rooms."

"She left the room?" Felix questions, turning to stare at you like such a thing is unheard of.

"I was there for three hours," Changbin confirms, "and I didn't see her at all."

"I was tired," you say, trying to ignore the feeling of your cheeks turning red, "so I slept in. And I left the room twice today, actually. I went to a vocal lesson with him."

Seungmin nods as your thumb jabs towards him. "She won't be dancing tomorrow either. She fell over on the concrete."

You don't even think twice about reaching over to push him off the couch. It catches him so off-guard that he actually does fall, sliding right onto the carpet and staring up at you in disbelief. The other boys howl with laughter, loud enough that you glance back at the kitchen door to check if Chan is coming back.

"I'm glad you took the morning off," Felix says warmly, ignoring whatever Seungmin mutters under his breath as he drags himself up off the floor. "We've all been worried about you."

"So I've been told," you say. "I promise, I know what I'm doing."

"I trust you," Felix says, and there's a glint in his eye that says he's telling the truth. It warms you to your core, just as sitting here surrounded by these boys does, and the sound of Minho's voice calling for Seungmin from the kitchen. It's nice, to come into the middle of their group away from the stage or the dance floor and feel like you're just in the midst of friends, somewhere where you belong. It's nice to see how they live. You hadn't let yourself see this before, too tied down to practise and the dream they've achieved that you're still chasing.

"Seungmin-ah! Come and help!" Minho calls again, and then he can be seen at the door, waiting with an unnerving kind of patience. You're not sure if the smile on his face is supposed to be encouraging or threatening, and you don't really want to find out; mostly, you're just kind of glad that he's not calling for you.

Seungmin isn't bothered by it, dragging himself off the couch with a sigh that reverberates through the room. "Coming, old man," he calls across the room, and ignores the double take that Felix does beside you, his eyes growing wide. 

"Ai-e," Changbin says, the sound whistling through his teeth. "Is he crazy?"

"You want to go in the oven?" Minho questions as Seungmin crosses the room.

"You'd have to get me in it first," Seungmin says, and then yelps as Minho's arm wraps around his neck, dragging him into the kitchen in a headlock. 

"He's going to die," Felix says gleefully. 

"Winning the bet was not worth it," you agree, your eyes still on the empty doorway to the kitchen. No one emerges except Chan, holding a pot of whatever they've cooked for dinner and looking disturbingly peaceful despite the chaos he has just left behind.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002 @hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff @splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit @jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @slutfortits @duhgurl @cheshireshiya @worcesheshestershiresauce @defnotfertilizedtoesw @rensahazard @greyyeti

[jeansplaytoy]

aot people and what dogs they have

this was funnnn , no warnings !!

starting off , i feel like eren would have a french bulldog 😭 he don’t even seem like a big dog typa person (not in the animal way) but he would def name the dog after him like with the same initials or something. like ej (eren jeager) jr.

“ej jr, getcho ass back over here.”

“bruh ej jr ian even playin nomo bruh.”

“junior, why you eat my new…” and take a deep ass breath. “why you eat my new shoes?”

but to be honest he can’t even be mad cus him and the dog act just alike 💀 and i feel like ej jr would be hella nice, just play too much (like eren). like the amount of times this dog has took off down the sidewalk and eren just stood there, sick and tired of the bullshit. he’d definitely be one of those people that would be like “dogs too much to handle” but kept the dog no matter whatttt.

next up is connie, who would prolly have a doberman i’m not even finna lie. like he would want a dog that looks scary, but isn’t actually mean. and that’s specifically his dog.

like he’s trained enough that if connie tells him to attack like for real, that mf gon attack. but he’s trained enough to know if connie just playin or not. but he got it kinda good cus when i say everybody is scared of this boys dog …. it ain’t even funny 💀

everybody is scared of it except for the main group. he gotta keep it in its room (yet it had its own room) for somebody to come over his house.

and i feel like he’d name it like domino or spade (ykyk).

“yo spade come here lil bro!”

“spade go eat yo food, you had me fixing that shit for nun.”

“spade. go in yo room fool.”

he also squares up and play fights wit the dog 😭.

next up is jean. now this mf know he wrong, but he would have one of them tall ass dogs, like a irish wolfhound or sumn.

now this dog is sum else, jeans dog would be hella chill, but taking it out in public? 💀shiddd. everybody staring and looking like a mf and he honestly, HONESTLYYY don’t understand why. people will literally be like “bruh, that dog is huge as fuck.” and he’ll just be like “ion know what y’all be talmout, but ight.” AND IT AINT NO ACT cus he tall too😭.

the dogs name would prolly be clifford, ngl. the only difference is that the dog ain’t red. but other than that, he chill as hellll.

“clifford, stop tryna eat paper and shit!”

“cliff’ you chewed my bottle of water bro.”

“clifford, go. just go sit down, damn.”

there’s really no problems with this dog other than the fact that it’s big, but it’s trained a lot and hella good. like the dog knows to sit down in its normal spot when people come over and not to try to jump on people when they’re standing up, stuff like that.

so ony would probably have a small dog just like eren, and it’d probably be a papillon and lemme tell you, he would literally treat this dog like a princesssss omggg.

buy her clothes, paint her nails, brush and comb her hair, brush her teeth, treats everywhere in the bottom of the pantry. like he’ll treat the dog like his own daughter. he always holds her, she’s trained (kind of), like what else could a dog ask for?

but the namewise, i feel like he’d name his dog princeee, honestly. 😭

“princess, bring yo tiny ass-“

“you hungry, P’?”

“princess get that shit out yo mouth!”

of course he’ll only fuss at the dog if she really being disobedient like the time his bed was covered in toilet paper, like ten rolls.

now speaking of fussing, mikasa will forever get fussed at for buying not one, but two black perro de prasa canarios. when i say this girl don’t give a damn bout walking at night with her hands full at all, even when the dogs ain’t on a leash, they’re trained REALLY good. so when she’s actually scared or nervous about somebody following her, they’ll do exactly what she says. full on barking and then stopping mid bark when she says so.

everybodies scared of her dog (and connie would be jealous because not that many people really care about his when they see hers) but it’s not even on purpose, she just wants them for protection honestly.

their names would probably be bullet and gun. obviously.

“gun, bullet, why is there dog food everywhere?”

“gun, bro stop tryna fight bullet.”

“bullet, stop shaking water everywhere!”

bullet is bullet because he got a lot of energy and gun is gun because he’s more intimidating. like they got the spike collars and all, mikasa was not playing.

last but not least, sasha would have a dog that she could laugh at everyday, like a greyhound.

now honestly her and this dog will argue each other from the minute she wakes up to the minute she goes back to sleep. they would be so on and off. 😭 but she’d dress the dog up and stuff and be really nice to it.

the only thing she’d really laugh at is how skinny the dog looks. but the name would probably be bones.

“bones, stop chewing on my airpods cases!”

“bones, get out. please get out.”

“bones stop scratching meee!”

but she obviously loves her dog cus she’s the type to have it since she was like 16 maybe. and they play fight too but she always ends up losing the fight, and one of her lashes in the process.

let’s not talk about how i fg to put armin, hope u enjoyed.

[8ttached]

Nsfw of fontaine completely shutting down reader if she tried to get sassy with him keeps me up at night 😓😓 also ur fics are so good wtf im glad i stumbled on ur account

The way i was writing this around the time you sent this anon omg 

(ALSO FIRST ANON OMG??? AND THANK YOU YOU'RE SO SWEETTT!!)

Sassy fontaine (pt 2? ( reader is the one being sassy))

Fontaine ! sassy blk woman 

Warnings: smut (18+)

Author note: This is my first (I'm lying second) time actually writing a full-blown smut omg I was literally giggling writing this but I hope yall enjoy this and don't think its cringy LOLL (also this isnt proof read sorryyyy)

Word count: 877

You were irritated that day, pissed off even. Everything wasnt going the way you wanted and the last thing you needed was a nigga in your ear, fontaine. 

You were huffing and puffing around the apartment and ended up bumping into Fontaine but you were so pissed you didn't apologize in fact, you didnt say shit. “damn, excuse me” fontaine says, only for you to continue on your bs. Fontaine frowns his eyebrows noticing you mumbling around the house and aggressively doing house chores. “What's going on wit’chu?” fontaine questions which only annoyed you more. “Nun” you give him the cold shoulder. “Whatchu mean nun, There sum clearly wrong wit’chu if you bump into me that hard.” he says, tilting his head. “I mean nun ‘taine, i got shit to do, and id appretiate it if you weren't on my ass about sum as lil as that.” you remarked. You walked away with the large bin full of clothes only for fontaine to walk in front of you. “What nigga” you shrug your shoulders, irritated at the fact that Fontaine was stopping you from doing the shit you had to do. He smacks his lips “whats up with you today bruh.” he looks you up and down. 

“Nun now move-”

“I aint moving till you tell me whats up.”

“You better move fontaine i aint playin”

“Fix your attitude”

“Fuck you, who do you think you is, you aint nobody” “I said fix your fucking attitude.” he says, now face to face with you

“Or what nigga.”

Were the last words you said before your throat got stuffed with your boyfirends dick. 

“Uh huh, just like that.” You notice fontaine looking down at you, his grills shining as he slightly smiles at you and his pre cum n’ spit dripping down to your tits. “Talking all’dat shit when all yo ass needed was my dick is your mouth” you wanted to slap the shit outta him but the way he was fucking your mouth felt too good to care. “There ya go, pretty bitch” he bites his lips attempting to hold his groans at the sight of you looking up at him and stroking his dick.

 “Okay c’mere” he whispers, grabbing your throat and kissing you. You and fontaine kissed all the way till he pushed you onto the bed. “Spread ‘em legs fa'me ma” he mumbles and eagerly, you did. In no time fontaine impatiently did his work causing you to give out a heavy sigh.  

‘Fontaine...” you moaned out. Fontaine worked his tongue all over you like a starved man. His low-lidded eyes were addicted to the view of you losing your mind. He mumbles something to you but you can’t understand what he’s saying, you’re too caught up in the pleasure. Soon you were unconsciously griping his free forms while yelling his name. “Mhm lemme’know how good im making yo’pussy feel” Fontaine mumbles as he grips your thighs to your chest. “ ‘taine im cuming” you choked out which made him laugh against your thighs as you lost your mind

“Uh huh now sprea ‘dem legs” 

Fontaine was now kneeling in front of you taking his time as he took his shirt off. The sight alone could make you cum untouched. Before you could say anything Fontaine began to assault your neck leaving hickeys, bite marks, and drool all over your neck and collarbone. “Taine please, I need you” you beg. The teasing was making you needy and wetter. “Oh now you wanna open your mouth” he sighs. He slaps his dick on your clit which made you whimper and whine for something more, anything. “You gone have to open ya mouth if you want sum like you should have done earlier.” he says looking in your eye, waiting for you to tell him what you want. “Taine, i want you please” you sigh out. “ ‘m right here ma.” he examines your body and how needier and impatient you get. “I need you dick Fontaine please!” and how could he say no to that?

And after your 2 orgasms rushed over you, it was getting too much. 

“Taine, i cant-”

 “yeah you can”

The pleasure hurt so good, you bit your lip attempting to hold back your noise but Fontaine noticed, gripping your face, making sure you felt every single deep, hard stroke. “c’on ma, what happened to that mouth of yours?” all you could do what whimper as another orgasm was coming. “All you gotta do is lemme know what you need baby, yknow i got you ma.” his reassurance following him roughly rubbing your clit made you arch for more. “yeah , yknow what to do” he bites his lips, his shiny gold grills glistening. You grip his arm as your orgasm erupts. “Oh fuckk” was the last thing you said before you saw stars and heard Fontaine groans as he came on your stomach. 

“You ight?” he chuckles. “Mhm” you sigh. “rest, imma finish up everything” he kisses your forehead as he covers you with a blanket. “You sure taine? I can finish after i take this breather” he lightly smiles. “Yeah ma, just know yo ass gonna tell me what had you all antsy n shit.” Fontaine says as he walks out of the room.