howyoumetjoey

[sxnctxxry]

freddy, kit, jack, and dani: (looking away from the camera)

amita:

[uraharasfavoriteexperiment]

hi, hi!

im not sure if your requests are open, if not, please ignore this.

may i request shinji hirako from bleach? where m!reader gets nipple piercings and surprises shinji with them? preferably NSFW, but if you'd rather not, then it's okay!

thank you!

okokokok im so excited to write this shinji is so daddy tysm anon

~ barbells

- shinji hirako x male reader / bj porn with minimal plot (smut) - content switch!shinji, switch!reader, short!reader cus im short so its a default im sorryyyy-, piercings, dirty talk, cursing, oral sex (reader receiving), pet names (baby, kitty/kitten, doll), authority kink >:D, light hair pulling, blowjob punishment gone wrong specifically for shinji - notes CLIFFHANGERRRRR [ wc ] 1555 please reblog fanfictions when you read one you like! likes do not help writers' algorithms!

you grin, lifting your arms up above your head and turning to both sides in front of the mirror. your [e/c] eyes rake over your naked upper half, and your cheeks turn a light shade of lily pink as your eyes land on your newest additions to your extensive collection of piercings:

nipple piercings.

about two months ago you got a ridiculous promotion, so you decided to indulge in the higher budget of pocket money and gotten your nipples pierced. after the piercings healed up correctly (thank god for no infections), you ordered a set of the cutest little arrow barbells for your new piercings, and moments ago, you had realized that you know someone else who would definitely be obsessed.

right on cue, as if this person knows you're thinking about him, you hear the man in question walk through the front door.

"m/n~" he hollers through the house, "m/n, i'm home!"

he gets no response- you're panicking in the walk-in closet, trying to think of a way to hide the surprise. he tilts his head, confused. his eyes scan the living room and hallway for signs of your presence as he makes his way towards the bedroom he shares with you.

"here kitty kitty kitty, where are you, baby?" he calls, a tiny needle of worry pricking his heart as he, once again, fails to receive an answer.

you grin excitedly (evilly?), hurriedly pulling one of his sweaters over your head and quietly closing the closet door, then you grab your phone and headphones and hop onto the bed, opening tiktok on your phone as an "excuse" as to why you "didn't hear him come into the house."

"shinji!!" you grin, taking off your headphones and dropping them and your phone onto the pillows. you pretty much sprint off the bed, jumping into shinji's open, waiting arms- your boyfriend is home! finally!

shinji chuckles, catching you by your waist. he backs himself up against the bedroom wall and slides his hands down your body to your legs, squeezing your thighs as he wraps your legs around his waist. he then takes hold of your ass with both hands, choosing to hold you up that way.

"hey, kitty~" he purrs, nuzzling his nose against yours with a grin of faux innocence adorning his handsome features. he squeezes your ass with both hands and lets you go, dropping you back onto your feet. his hands slide up underneath your (his) sweater, and he pulls you up against his chest by your waist, leaning in and grazing his lips against yours teasingly.

"how've you been today?" he asks.

your excited (evil.) grin from earlier makes a second appearance, and you hug him tightly, mumbling an answer into his chest.

"good..." you say, resting your chin on his chest and looking up at him, "i've got a surprise for you." you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him tightly, pulling him backward until your legs hit the bed. you let yourself fall, and shinji falls on top of you on his hands and knees. he leans in and presses his lips to yours, but this time the kiss is more heated, and more demanding.

"should i close my eyes?" he says against your lips, breaking the kiss and giving you his trademark idiot-grin.

you nod furiously, your own evil grin plastering your face. you put your hands on his chest and push him off you, shoving a pillow in his face. he giggles, sitting on his knees and hiding his face in the pillow. you back up a little, moving more towards the pillows, and pull his sweater over your head and throw it at him as hard as you can.

"look." you say, your voice dripping with badly contained laughter.

"oh god..." shinji growls, "should i be scared?" he has his hands covering his face, and he slowly separates two fingers and peeks through the gap...

his eyes widen, and all the blood in his brain goes south.

"shinji hirako, your whole body just became devoid of blood, didn't it-" you ask, cutting yourself off a little too late. shinji nods furiously, his face turning bright tomato-red.

"y-you've got- you've got barbells..." he observes, clearly struggling.

you giggle, reaching out and grabbing his shoulders. you let your weight fall into the pillows and pull him down on top of you. his hands rake up and down your body, and every time they pass your nipples, he can't help but play with them.

"shit, m/n..." he says quietly, leaning down and dragging his tongue over one of your nipples while his fingers play with the other. "you're so fucking hot, such a delicious little thing, hm? what'd you do this for?"

you try your best to force out a response in between your cute little moans and whimpers:

"i-ngh, fuck- i haah-w-wanted to g-get them cus i-i knghh-knew you w-were gonna l-like them... aah, fuck, shinji-"

shinji's blood starts to boil, and his heart starts to race, his mind screaming with nasty thoughts.

"you have no idea what i'm gonna do to you, kitten~" he growls into your ear, "you've been a bad boy, you need'a be punished."

your body shakes with shivers of anticipation, and you wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze, trying to egg him on. he chuckles, sneaking his hand under the waist of your sweatpants. you let him tug them off, leaving you in only your boxers. you kick them off the bed onto the floor. your own hands are busy as well, quickly undoing the buttons of his shirt and yanking it down off his muscled shoulders. you grin, smashing your lips onto his as he shrugs his shirt off and tosses it off the bed to join your discarded sweatpants.

you tug impatiently at shinji's belt, looking up at him and pouting furiously when he shakes his head, that big, stupid grin never leaving his face. you growl at him warningly, and he, of course, completely ignores it. you start to protest, but as you open your mouth shinji shoves his tongue into your mouth, his hands sliding underneath the elastic waist of your boxers. you moan into his mouth as his hand wraps around your painfully hard cock.

"nngh, fuck- shinji, please-" you whine, but shinji ignores you again, his other hand yanking your boxers down to your thighs, freeing you from your confines. without any warning, he dives down and drags his tongue over the tip of your dick, then takes you into his mouth in one startlingly smooth motion. he looks up at you and you make eye contact, and your brain trips and falls face-first into the gutter.

"ngh, fuck- sh-shinji, you look so g-good d-down there..." you whimper, moaning and throwing your head back into the pillows. shinji giggles around your dick, making it vibrate and forcing another desperate moan from the back of your throat.

"yeah? strugglin', are ya?" he says in a sadistic tone. you nod vigorously, biting your lip and trying to concentrate on not face-fucking shinji.

"well, then... you shouldn't do things like this~" at this, he reaches up and flicks the arrowhead of one of your barbells, making you groan. shinji growls like an animal around your cock, letting out his tongue and flattening it under the bottom of your shaft. he reaches up and grabs your face roughly, forcing you to look down at him as he hollows out his cheeks, bobbing his head up and down at a pace that your brain was having a lot of trouble handling. the only thought your brain can formulate is that it's so good.. so good. his mouth feels perfect, it's driving you rabid.

you let loose a feral, faintly wolf-like growl and your hand moves to shinji's head. your fingers tangle into his hair and your hips start to move. shinji moans, his eyes rolling up into his head and his face turning making him look like a hentai girl getting her throat fucked- which was exactly what was happening to poor shinji. he didn't mind, though- after all, he had always been on the submissive side in this relationship, and the fact that you were smaller than him was the main reason he liked you so much:

because if small, then why so strong?

shinji shoves his nose into your pelvic bone and shakes his head, growling like a crazed animal. he moans and lets his eyes roll up into his skull, and lets his jaw go slack, enabling a thin line of drool to dribble down his chin. he continues to moan and whine around your dick as your hips start to fuck up into his throat; his hands slide up your thighs to squeeze your hips, then they go up your waist and ribs-

shinji's eyes happen to flick over to the mirror, and his dick twitches in his boxers at the thought of what pretty sounds he could get from you if he fucked you in front of that mirror...

shinji growls again, the drool line thickening as his ears are filled with the beautiful sounds you're making- the perfect high notes, the animalistic growls, the hisses of his name...

shinji's hands find what they're looking for: your nipples. the piercings.

the piercings.

© uraharasfavoriteexperiment.

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Hi! I really liked the Rottmnt post you did with the turtles boys finding out their the readers old pet turtles. It’s literally been on my mind constantly I love Platonic and found family stuff like this but can barely ever find any!

If you don’t mind me asking I’d like to make a request for a scenario or Headcanom (either one is fine lolol) based on my reblog, where Mikey tries to introduce the reader to Splinter and April (while his brothers try very hard to not let Draxum get seen and murdered by reader. ) XD

I hope you have a good rest of your day/evening/ whatever point in time it is for you! ✨

Just wanted to tell you I audibly laughed at that reblog!

Splinter and April & Reader who had the turtles as pets

"Im a bit nervous, Mikey. What if it gets awkward?" you say as you walk deeper into the seemingly endless tunnel, part of what had been a train system below New York. You had brought a flashlight with you, but it hardly lights up the next 6 feet in front of you. "It's going to be fine! If anything it might go too well. Next thing you know Dad is going to be showing you our baby pictures!" Mikey said as he walked behind you. Smiling and bringing his hands to his face in a "sleeping" position and imagining all the family movie nights you where going to be apart of. The flashlight began to flicker, didn't you just change out the batteries? Mikey noticed and spoke up "Don't worry, we're almost there" he said reassuringly. Sure enough, after about a minute you where already there. Mikey opened the door for you, remembering how Splinter had told him and his brothers to be on there best behavior.

You walk past, thanking him for holding the door. As soon as you step inside you are bombarded by Donnie and Raph who wanted to greet you. "I trust you had a pleasant walk here?" Donnie spoke elegantly, he was overdoing the whole "best behavior" thing a tad bit. Thankfully Raph spoke up, or rather, he whisper-yelled "too far, less polite" Donnie thought for a moment before speaking again "..was the walk here okay?" "I-" Before you could finish speaking you heard Leo's voice from what you assume to be the living room. "Y/n! We're over here!" There was clear excitement in his voice.

The brothers guided you to the living room.

Splinter

★ As stated before, he told his sons to be on there best behavior. And for the most part they listend, Sure there was a little argument about who got to sit next to you. But he could overlook that.

★ He was really excited to meet the person who took care of his sons before he did. You thought it would be a bit awkward but it was far from it. He is very polite and the two of you get along just fine.

★ Eventually you get to the part where you crap talk Draxum and let me tell you, it is therapeutic. Mikey is standing in the corner, probably wanting to say something but doesn't.

★ Afterwards he invites you over fairly often for family events. All his sons like you and from what he can tell, you seem like a good addition to there weird family.

★ Whenever something is going to be decided, say Leo got in trouble or a pizza toppings are being decided. Your opinion outweighs April and the turtles, he pretty much gives you the last word on most things.

April

★ She was exited to meet you because she really wanted to know how much each of the brothers cost. Kidding, kinda. She heard good things about you and wanted to meet you in person.

★ Definitely asks you to share some stories about when you had the boys as pets. Her favorite one is the time that you had to take all the dirt out of Mikey's enclosure and replace it with wood chips because he was eating the dirt for some reason?

★ You and her get along great, you are older than her by about 15-20 years considering you had the turtles as pets about 15 years ago judging by the turtles age. So you would be kinda like a cool aunt to her.

(bonus) Draxum

★ You met him (the second time) because Mikey wanted the two of you to try and get along. It was awkward, to say the least. Mikey had to sit between you and him as a social buffer to keep the two of you from getting into a fight.

★ To Mikey's credit, you probably would have decked him across the face if he hadn't. But could he really blame you?

[spagheddiesquash]

so today i was in the mw oc server talking abt some stuff i noticed about jawbone (+ some other theory stuff as well!!)

so first of all. two kind of obvious details:

he is green (“yeah no shit sherlock” i hear u thinking. trust me there is a reason why im pointing it out)

his pupils are triangular. nobody else in the show so far has had triangular pupils. (well. i mean commander tezzoree’s eye has a triangular pupil but she hasnt made an appearance in any episodes yet and i doubt the two characters are connected)

just making this point known for now. we will hold this thought for later in the post.

another thing: so in the ref sheet of him posted to the mw tumblr back in september i believe(?), his name is written as “jawbone (a.k.a. scythelord)”

you know where a character by the name of “scythelord” has shown up already?

on a wanted poster, thats where!! he has a bounty on his head!!!

which means that tyneen and her crew are probably after him, which probably explains why they’re at the thicc chicc casino. (how do i know jawbone is there? because ricket is there, which i know because he is shown interacting with both shrike and tyneen, who we know are both there)

now. remember that thought from earlier that i told you to hold until later? now is the time to bring it back.

ok so. we already know that colors and shapes each have their own respective significance in this show, and colors and shapes are chosen deliberately.

with that said:

correlation?? maybe???

ADDITIONALLY:

this further cements my belief that ep 4 will have a LOT in it regarding the cataclysm or some other related thing. why?

(2nd pic comes from the VA application doc. unfortunately i dont have any better quality pics of it)

despite the poor image quality in the second pic, you can still tell that both of these characters have some sort of magenta (or pink i guess?) type of theming going on in their designs.

also if we look at campions, like, the flower

you can see where im trying to go with this idea.

i did a whole bunch of examining colors today in light of this, actually!!! quick fun fact for those unaware: RGB and CMYK invert into each other.

and then after i made that image i started sorting things into what colors they are. (white and black have been omitted from the screenshots simply because there doesnt seem to be any significant things tied to them)

obviously this list is probably incomplete and i will continue to add to it, of course.

(my main inspo for even thinking about CMYK for theories in the first place was @toastedclownery btw!! GO CHECK OUT THEIR BLOG IF U HAVENT ALREADY THERES SO MANY COOL THEORY POSTS THERE!!)

one final not-as-relevant theory that’s really more of a prediction: i really think joel vargskelethor is gonna be in this upcoming episode, whether it’s in whole or in part. i mean, he already voiced the duende in ep 3, so it’s not like its impossible or anything. also “scythelord” happens to be the name of joel’s band as well (which you should DEFINITELY check out if ur into metal!!!!! absolutely amazing stuff) OH OH AAAAAAND

id like to direct your attention to the title of this update, which is “the bone zone,” which i believe to be a skeleton metal reference.

also jawbone/scythelord has the little sweden viking helmet thing on the wanted poster. AND HES GREEN! LIKE FREN!!

for those who dont know, this is fren (also known as vargfren i think)

so yeah. these evidence pieces combined with the fact that zeurel has made dozens of “vargskelethor animated” videos (which is how i got into zeurel’s animations in the first place actually!!) are what led me to make this prediction.

anyway, i hope you guys liked this theory post. it’s not an update on the web, but i figured id try doing something new. though, if youd like to see the web, here’s a view of the full thing currently:

but yea thats all i really had. ill reblog with some additions if i think of anything else. bye for now!!! :^D

[just-some-random-blogger]

Want You Dead II

Daemon Targaryen x Pirate!Reader | Part 1 2 3

Summary: Having agreed to Lord Corlys' terms, you were now slowly being restored into your house, just how Prince Daemon intended things to be. He was pleased that no matter how the days passed, your ascent to nobility did not erase the traits that made you a good pirate. However, he should have known your fire would draw men to you like moths. But gods be damned if he allows anyone else hold your flame.

Word Count: 17k+

Warnings: mentions of assault/rape, graphic depictions of violence, sexual implications fem!reader, ADDITIONAL PAIRINGS (wink, wink), super slow burn (and i still hate myself it), made up characters and lore, time skips, mangled timeline, themes of betrayal, angst, curse words, misogyny, parts with fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: yeah so like i am highly certain im making a part 3 so 🤡 so much for two really long chapters. I'm also pretty sure I messed up the timeline in this chapter, specifically regarding the ages of Alicient's children. Just roll with it mkay! Don't think about it too much.

Make sure to leave comments and reblogs!! If you would like to be tagged, just say the word <3.

Taglist: @sweetybuzz25 @idathereader @deekaag @how2besalty @niiight-dreamerrrr @wondergal2001

"WHO THE FUCK WAS ON NIGHTSHIFT?!" the prince erupted the very moment he kicked the guardhouse doors open.

The prince was known to be unhinged. It was not uncommon for him to arrive somewhere unannounced, demanding audience or answers. And yet in this moment, there was a roar of a dragon many of the men had not yet seen. There was a fire in his eyes that could only be put out with blood. And whatever it was the men were doing before Daemon arrived was quickly forgotten or abandoned.

The prince heaved at the silence and shoved the nearest man next to him out of anger, letting out a prolonged shout, "ANSWER ME!"

As the man who fell on the ground gathered himself up, Daemon took a sword from one of the containers and raises it as his ears practically steam, "YOU WILL BRING EVERY MAN THAT WAS ON THE NIGHTSHIT TO ME IN AN HOUR, OR--" he cuts himself off, the vein on his neck relaxed finally, "I shall find them myself and slay them with no explanation."

His jaw clenches as he mutters lowly, looking at each face in the room, "am I understood?"

There is a chorus of agreement.

Daemon throws the sword on the the ground and storms off.

I was in the ward, my eyes were heavy as was my body, and yet sleep would not come to me. The maesters made it clear to me, and Lord Corlys, who was present the entire time I was being tended to, that I should not leave my bed for a week unless absolutely necessary.

I was glad at the very least that I was situated next to a window where I could see the outside. In this moment, I was watching the sun set, wondering why in the silence of this room, my thoughts were so loud that I could find no peace in resting. Now that the horror had been addressed, now that I recounted what happened and angrily wiped my tears away as I explained I could not fall pregnant because my assaulter only used his fingers on me, I felt my fatigue catch up with me, that, and the memory similar incident I had at 13 that was never addressed.

Agatha, the woman I regarded as my mother, had just given birth to her second child at this point, Abigail. Her eldest child, William, was about only 3. Douglas, her husband, my adoptive father, had been out for work when three lords came to our house, asking about my necklace, asking about me.

At first, they said they knew my father, lord Rubin, and wanted to help me reclaim my title. Agatha turned them away, denying their words, which made them call her a lying whore, for I was clearly not her child.

They returned again and again, but eventually, they returned in the darkness of night. They tried to take me as I bathed and tried to touch me where I would not allow. They clawed for me still and laughed while they did. The only reason I still came a virgin at that time was because my father heard my screams and managed to fight them off with the help of our neighbors.

I ran away from home after that, feeling I was undeserving of Agatha and Douglas' protection, not only because I was bringing trouble to them, but as well as the fact I believed I had been made unclean by those lords disgusting fingers.

Tears stream down my face as I think of my parents and how badly they probably felt after I ran away.

I was lying in my bed, limp, yet my whole body burned in anger for my younger self. She was filled with self-loathing because she believed it was her fault. She thought thoughts like had she not been there, had she been stronger... but that was never the case. It matters not if you were careful, evil intent will prevail where evil is allowed to fester. In hearts of those evil men it has festered.

I hope they're all dead now.

My thoughts made a bitterness rise in my throat that I had not tasted in a long time. My anger was ugly, and fully draining.

Yet still... slumber shuns me away.

There is a noise far off by the entrance suddenly. I vaguely hear two voices, but think nothing of it. Upon hearing a loud voice echo in the room however, it is much harder to ignore. I my hands to my ears, suddenly preferring the noise in my head than the one starting in the room.

"Your grace! I implore- she cannot-"

"Or would you rather I stuff each soldier in here with their crusty boots and body odor?" the telltale voice of an angry Prince Daemon quips harshly.

For a moment there is silence. I release a sigh and place my hands by my side. I close my eyes, relishing in the sound of nothing. But then I hear footsteps headed towards me and I then begin wonder if it would be better if I pretend to be asleep.

I feel him stand beside my bed. I hear the clanking of his armor, "my lady Rubin."

I do not respond to him.

"Do not ignore me. The maester told me you could not find sleep."

I press my lips before responding. My voice was still hoarse even after drinking a tea that was meant to help with it, "you are aware in order to fall asleep, you must pretend to be asleep first."

"I have summoned all the men in the nightshift to arrive in an hour," he speaks plainly, "if your rapist is not there, then I will have those guards find him and bring him here within the evening. If they fail, then I shall kill them all with-"

"No."

Daemon still where he stood. He is so utterly stunned by the word that he cannot even think.

I finally peel my eyes open and behold the prince's expression. I release a tired sigh, "you will not do anything about this matter while I am bedridden."

His armor clad body shivers, he feels sick, "you cannot possibly mean to forgive the shit beneath my boots RAPIST that-"

"DAEMON!" I scream, instantly regretting it because my voice was not any better than it was moments ago. I begin to rattle out into a cough.

Daemon face instantly drops, "water! Someone get some fucking water here!"

A maester comes running in with a tray witch held a pitcher of water and a cup. Daemon grabs the tray from him, dismissing him, then places it on the beside table. He pours me a glass and hands it to me in a way that would not require our skin to touch.

I calm myself and take the cup from him, sitting up slowly. I down the lukewarm water then place the cup on the tray to my side. I look up at Daemon, who's violet eyes were burning.

"Come closer," I whisper in High Valyrian.

Daemon drops to his knees in an instant and I am honestly taken aback by it. I shift in my bed and pat my hand to my side, wordlessly beckoning him. He gives me a hesitant look and yet obliges after a moment.

"May I?" I mutter after he sits, raising my hand out to him.

"You need not ever ask me if I want your touch," he responds in High Valyrian, lowering his gaze upon me, "I have craved it for so long."

I take his hand into mine and lean my head back on the surface behind me, closing my eyes, "my knees betrayed me when I was climbing the stairs with Lord Corlys. And when he touched me in an attempt to help, I jolted and descended down the entire flight."

His voice is loud as he quickly retorts, "he shouldn't have touched-"

"He had to carry me here," I turn to him, slowly opening my eyes.

Daemon grows silent again.

"I couldn't even stand after falling. I was lucky I only got bruises out of it."

"I should have been the one to carry you here instead," he replies in his mother tongue, turning to his lap. His free hand tightly curls into a fist.

"I am not a deer that is meant to be thrown over shoulder."

Daemon turns back to me, "I will have a litter out for you."

"I will not be made a spectacle of."

"THEN WHAT!" he blurts, ripping his hand away as he quickly stands, "what shall you have me do for I will not allow that nothing be done?!"

"Let me rest!" I whimper, feeling my eyes water over how pained my voice and body was, "allow me the courtesy of healing, regaining my strength, and then... I will face the rapist myself."

Daemon's face his hard. He wants to scream, to find satisfaction tonight, and yet he contains all this. He reaches in his pocket, fingers fiddling with the gem he always had with him. He clenches his jaw and grinds his teeth, "what did the vermin look like?"

I release a sigh, as I turn to the blankets around me, tears running down my face, "he had dark hair, dark eyes. He was tall and--" I shudder, "impossibly strong." I suck in a breath, "I scarred him, cheek down to his lips from when I was captured," I turn back to Daemon, who's face contorted upon hearing that. I bring my mind back to the grim moment and open my mouth, "he was wearing a hood. I think it was blu--"

"Enough," he blurts, making me cease my words with a gasp.

Daemon does not enjoy my look of tension, my look of vulnerability, and yet... he could not bring himself to address it. He shifts from where he stands in such a way the necklace hid would remain hidden as he pulls it into his hand, "I will find him tonight. I swear on my life. I will not kill him, but I will hurt him so much that he wish he were dead, but I will keep him alive just enough for you to kill him."

His words ring in my ears like a bell in a tower. The anger inside me was thrilled by the idea, but my mind was so tired that all I could do was look out the window and take in the night sky.

Daemon did not know what he was expecting, but the silence in the room was gnawing at him. He shoves his hand back in his pocket and decided then to simply leave.

When he does, I whip my head to the side and call out to him. My voice is so broken however that not a single sound came out.

Daemon's face was chilling under the light of a torch.

He was sat on a wooden stump in front of some 50 men, all nervous, all eager to know why the prince had thrown a fit towards the men who worked the nightshift. He had a ruby necklace in his hand and his eyes were fixed on the item. His calmness was making the tension around wind even more.

"Caraxes," he calls, barely raising his voice, and yet his dragon obeys the call and comes crying with fury from the roof of the building behind his master.

Now that all the men before him were scared shitless, he allows a few moments to pass, making sure the servants mutter to each other about how angry their prince was before he said another word.

Daemon looks up to his dragon, gripping the ruby before putting it away. He mutters that the Caraxes raise his head and upon doing so, the prince commands, "dracarys."

The night sky is overpowered by fire and each man looks up to in terrified awe of the flames burning overhead. The light finds each of their faces, exposing every detail to Daemon's keen eyes.

He sees then, scar from cheek to lip, on a man who was at the very back. Caraxes closes his mouth with a hiss, allowing the darkness to creep up on everyone again.

Daemon's eyes are fixed on his target, blood boiling at the audacity of him to come here thinking he would not be caught, absolutely outraged that he was feigning innocence and ignorance. Part of him wished that he had run, then he would be justified in chasing him down and cutting his legs off. Even now he prayed the vermin would turn to the prince and be so absolutely terrified that he start running so he could start chasing.

But then he realizes something that makes him stand quickly form his seat. All the men around him still at that.

He chuckles darkly.

Nothing is stopping him from doing just that to him right now.

And so the men watch as the prince strides forward; they were not quick enough to make way for him as Daemon's shoulders bump against their shoulder plates.

He draws his hand out to the man with the scarred face and tugs at his metal collar, "strip yourself."

He is too stunned to even move.

Daemon shakes him, "STRIP YOURSELF!" He throws him down, causing the man to fall to the floor, "Or I will have the whole guardhouse rip that armor off your body."

"My lord," the man whines, "I do not-"

Daemon has his sword pointed at him in but a second, "I would not speak another word, if I wanted to keep my tongue." He watches as the man gets on his knees and shivers. He is enraged by his stillness, "FUCKING STRIP HIM!"

Caraxes screams, feeling the anger of his rider.

The men go upon him and undo his armor. Once he is left in nothing but his pants and his shirt, Daemon slowly steps towards him, blade inching near his skin, piercing him slowly, "now run."

He holds back his screams, but it is futile when the prince rips his shoulder muscle up. Daemon listens to his pathetic cries, lips curling in disgust, "run, vermin."

"Your grace, I-"

Daemon kicks his face, which sends him shooting back, "I'M ASKING YOU TO RUN WITH YOUR LEGS, NOT WITH YOUR MOUTH."

He man is writhing in pain, and his groans annoy Daemon, "you will hurt worse than you've hurt regardless if you run or not."

Upon realizing the man would not get up anytime soon, he kicks him back down on the floor before he can rise up. The prince steps on the cut on the man's skin, making him scream out in anguish. Daemon makes sure to watch everyone's reaction to the piercing noise. Caraxes adds to it with his one screech.

Once the sound dampens, Daemon raises finally speaks, "last night this man broke the oath he swore to keep as a member of the royal guard. Instead of protecting the subjects of this realm, he did the very act he was meant to condemn. He deluded himself in claiming a perverted form of justice when he raped a defenseless woman as a form of revenge.

"And not only did he dishonor the royal guards by overpowering someone in an unfair fight, but he dishonored me," he drums on his chest, "Prince Daemon of house Targaryen, second born after King Viserys, by assaulting the woman I promised to marry."

The crowd breaks into gasps and grumbles. The man beneath his books begins to sob, "but my lord! My lord, she was shackl-"

Daemon kicks him repeatedly as he seethes, "shut the fuck up."

The man's cries excite Caraxes into another scream. Daemon heaves, feeling the thirst of his Blood Wyrm course through him. It takes so much in him not to say the word and end the life of the pathetic man. His entire body was practically buzzing with a thirst for blood. But he turns to his dragon, raising a hand at him to calm him down. Caraxes clicks in disappointment.

For a moment, the prince basks in the man's pain. As much as his fingers itch to inflict even more on him, with great restraint, he turns away, "take him to a cell before I kill him," Daemon commands as he walks off.

It was on the 3rd day of my bed rest that I finally asked the maesters if there had been any word from Prince Daemon. Upon being told that there was none, I proceeded to ask if perhaps I was visited while I was asleep. The look the maester gave me after that was one of pity, as if I was delusional to expect that I be visited by anyone at all.

I was visited though, but not by the Valyrian I wanted. Lord Corlys came on the 5th day of my bed rest. He was kind, he instructed the maesters to keep me well fed and even brought me literature to amuse myself with. It was on that very same day I realized the prince was not coming to visit me.

It hurt of course, and the more I tried to convince myself that what the maesters said about their prince was true, how he was rogue and only ever did things that benefit himself, the more I thought about how I pathetic I was into thinking he actually cared for me.

And so today, the very first day I was allowed to walk and go wherever I wanted, I blew off steam on the training ground in the early morning so I wouldn't have to share it with anyone.

"This is the first thing you do after being allowed to stand?"

The voice is familiar, too familiar in fact, considering I did not hear it at all during my recovery. I ignore him, focusing on the inanimate target before me, allowing the extra shot of anger that coursed through me now flow out of me.

He speaks in High Valyrian, "have you now become so proud that you are to be reinstated as a Lady that you will not even greet your prince?"

I halt for a moment, enraged by the sentiment. I grip my sword tightly then hack on the hay dummy particularly, "greetings, prince Daemon!"

The man's lips curve at the show of strength. I hear him chuckle, "though it gladdens me to see your might, I'm worried you might overexert yourself."

I scoff, opting to twirl my weapon in my hand instead, "I did not think it mattered to you what I do anymore, considering you did not come to me in 10 days."

Daemon brings his hands together in front of him, "the maesters told me it would take a week for you to heal."

"A week is not 10 days," I blurt quickly, whipping my head to him, "Targaryen scum."

Daemon smirks at me.

My face twists the opposite way and my pulse quickens in anger. Sensing my hostility, the man draws his sword out just in time before my blade could hit him.

My fury is further fueled by his mischievous expression. We prance around, boots grinding the dirt beneath it as we stomp to match the other's stance. Daemon is too thrilled by the sounds of clanking swords, and it becomes clear to me that he thinks this is a game, that I was doing this to show him how much I had recovered, and so I make it a point to nick him when I get the chance. The chance comes quickly when he laughs as he pulls back to avoid my charge.

He lets out a shocked grunt when I rip the middle part of the sleeve of his coat deep enough that blood is drawn.

Our fight ends here.

The prince looks at me for a moment, betrayed, obviously only now realizing that I was, in fact, pissed that he did not visit me at all while I was bedridden. He turns to his cut, confused by the pain. I drop the sword in my hand and turn, walking away.

"I did not think you wanted my company," he calls as he wipes the blood with his fingers. Daemon averts his gaze from his wound to me, "I confess, I wouldn't have known what to do had I visited anyway."

I scoff in disbelief, grinding my teeth in annoyance. I take in his pathetic look and I storm towards him, heaving in anger. My eyes grow glassy when I growl, "I was fucking raped, you stupid piece of shit!"

Daemon takes a step back for every step I took towards him.

"You are so incorrigible that you cannot care to think about anything but yourself!" I bark, raising and accusing finger at him. "You are the only face I know here!" I whine, voice breaking as my tears betray me with their appearance. "You are the only one that doesn't look at me like I'm broken or tainted or fucking stupid, and yet here you are looking down at me as if I am!"

Daemon's face twitches at the shrillness of my screams. He is surprised when my hands dart out to his collar, "I didn't want you, Daemon," I pull him down to me, heaving helplessly as I finish my words in High Valyrian, "I needed you."

His hands raise around me but they do not land anywhere. His head is spinning. He never before has been so confused with what to do next.

I release him and walk off once again.

Daemon does not like that, which is why in his desperation, he darts his hands forward and grabs my arm. He instantly regrets it though when I jolt at the unforeseen contact and raise my hands up in defense, and out of instinct.

"Fuck," he pulls away quickly, raising both his hands up, "fuck, shit, fuck, apologies," he sputters, digging his fingers in his nape, "fuck, fuck, I-"

I shake my head, releasing a breath as my anger slowly melts at his guilty expression, "I touched you first without-"

"I told you you could," he says, "you can always touch me without-"

"I know," I cut him off, "still it was unlike me to do so."

Daemon watches me wipe my eyes before I turn back to him, "I have to go. I must get ready soon. I was granted audience with the king to discuss the reclamation of my title."

"Can I be granted audience as well?"

I sigh, turning away from him, "do I truly even have a choice?"

"You do," he retorts, eyes fixed on me.

I look at the prince for a moment. A foreign expression lingered in his eyes. I tilt my head, "I grant it to you now then... but make it quick."

He extends his hand out to me, asking in High Valyrian, "may I?"

I turn to his palm and place my own atop of his.

The prince's eyes remained fixed intently on me, starkly contrasting mine that were wandering the large, dark, and filthy place all over. The smell the massive building had was ten times worse than that of the bottom chamber of ship Jocelyn.

My left hand was also still firmly gripped in his right one. Daemon hat them hands pressed against his chest protectively.

"Where are we?" I finally ask as we make our stop in center of the massive place.

Daemon looks down at me, raking in my expression in silence.

I turn to him with an expectant look after receiving no response. He raises his head a fraction, eyes still on mine. I raise my brows as he moves my hand to his left one and side steps behind me. He presses his body flush against my back and places his right hand on my right shoulder, "the dragon pit."

My eyes widen at his admission. I look over my shoulder where his face was and shake my head in disapproval as my pulse quickens.

"Shhhh," he hushes as he presses his lips against my temple, "do not be nervous."

Yet out of nervousness, I involuntarily speak the name that popped into my mind, "Caraxes?"

In that very moment, there is a whine that echoes across the room. My breath hitches as the noise grows louder.

I wriggle out of Daemon's clutch. He hushes me again. He mutters in High Valyrian, "calm yourself, my love."

And from the very pit emerges a dragon head, screeching loudly. Suddenly I wonder if Daemon's words were for me or his dragon. Perhaps both.

Daemon does not enjoy the restlessness he was feeling across the room. He presses a kiss on my pulsing neck, breath hot against me as he speaks in the same language, "I am here. Nothing will hurt you."

Caraxes draws nearer. The dragon screeches yet again and shakes his head in a manner I can only hope was friendly.

"Calm yourself," Daemon commands, raising his right hand to his dragon, "I brought her here to meet you."

"Daemon," I mutter harshly in fear.

He presses his lips to my temple again, "calm yourself. He can sense your restlessness, same as I."

My breath hitches as I exhale and chuckle sardonically, "oh, pardon me for being nervous in front of a mother fucking dragon."

Daemon chuckles, his free hand coming to circle around my waist, "there's that fire. Caraxes will appreciate it."

At this point, the dragon is close enough that the hot huffs coming out of his nostrils was blowing against both mine and Daemon's being.

I decide to merely close my eyes and lean my head against Daemon's, "I have no idea why you want me to meet your dragon, but be quick about it so we can leave at once."

Daemon chuckles again, chin affectionately rubbing against my hair. He turns to his dragon and speaks in High Valyrian, "I have chosen her myself, Caraxes," he smiles, "she is a pretty as you, don't you agree?"

For a prolonged moment, there is only silence. I feel Daemon spread my hand open and soon enough my palms are then met with a warm and bumpy sensation.

"Open your eyes, my dear ruby," he instructs in the same language.

I release a breath before slowly opening my eyes. It seems as though the great eye before me opened at the same time. My lips part as Daemon guides my hand to stroke the side of Caraxes' face.

I finally feel brave enough to tear my gaze off of the creature's eye to take in the rest of his large body. I'm shocked at how unexpectedly smooth the feeling of his scales where against my hand.

"What fierce beauty you are, sweet dragon," I mutter in the language Caraxes is responsive to. For a moment, my heart jumps back into my throat as the beast makes quick clicking noises. I step back, falling into Daemon's arms and he hushed me yet again. Caraxes lifts his head, releasing a quick whine, then bares the other side of his face to me.

Daemon breaks into a laugh, heart soaring at his dragon's sentiment. I am in utter astonishment of how the beast reacted.

When Caraxes is close enough, I slowly bring my hand back down on him by my own will. In my surprise of how he leans in, my other hand darts up to his face. A gasp of surprise leaves my lips. The prince is, needless to say, pleased.

"My dragon is anything but sweet," Daemon says, slowly breaking away from me to go to the other side of Caraxes' head, praising him quickly, "good boy."

I stroke Caraxes' head in a more confident manner now. The creature closes his eyes and rests his head on the floor. I realize the rolling sound he was making was perhaps similar to that of a cat's purr. The thought makes me break into a smile, "you're just an overgrown kitten, aren't you?"

Daemon's own lips curve upward, unable to hide his amusement. He slowly walks over to me and says, "you are now bonded to a dragon."

I freeze in my actions and turn to him, knitting my brows, "surely, it's not that simple."

He chuckles, hand resting on Caraxes' snout, nonchalant, "he will, of course, answer only to my command, but now he knows your scent and knows of your connection to his master."

I turn to the dragon, "Caraxes is-"

I do not finish my thought as the said creature opens his eyes and lifts his head from the floor to look down upon me and his rider. I step back, feeling fear flood me again. Daemon catches me before I can step back any further, "careful. He is very responsive to his name."

I open my mouth but cannot speak a word.

Daemon chuckles one last time before turning to Caraxes, "go on now," he dismisses in High Valyrian, "go back to your cave and take a nap."

Caraxes releases a quick whine and obeys his master's order.

I watch as he slowly walks back down into the pit. When I finally tear my gaze away from Caraxes, I give Daemon a wide eyed look, "did you just command a dragon to take a nap?"

He looks at me for a moment before releasing an amused breath, "come now. You mustn't reek of dragon slobber when you go to meet the king."

When he takes my hand back in his, I ask him again, "and did your dragon respond to it?"

Daemon presses his lips together in a soft smile.

"My cats didn't even come to me when I called to them."

We begin to walk off when Daemon responds, "that's because your blood does not contain magic that calls out to felines."

I give him an incredulous look, "are you telling me you're a cat whisperer as well?"

Daemon could only think of one thing as he stood in the throne room, his attention was solely on one person alone. Rhaenyra, who was situated near him, could see the pleased look on her uncle's face and it made her so utterly curious. So, she followed his line of sight, wondering what had him in such a good mood today, then giggled to herself upon seeing what her uncle was looking at.

I grinned, bowing courteously to King Viserys right after he announced before all the lord and ladies present that he was recognizing me as Lady of house Rubin.

The hall erupted into cheers for me, and I yet I felt only a semblance of emotion to the sight of Lord Corlys' clapping. I nod graciously at him, offering a smile. He gives me a knowing look back, beckoning me over wordlessly.

I promptly make my to him but on my way though, I bump into something I did not see. When I do spot what hindered my passage, I see a head of silver hair and a boy that was knocked over to the floor, yet he sweetly tells me, "pardon me, my good lady."

My lips part in concern and my heart clenches at his sweet words. I crouch down to the boy, who surely was of Valyrian descent, "I apologize, my sweet prince. Are you hurt?"

The boy looks up at me as I extend a hand him.

I hear soft giggles beside me and I turn and see an older version of the boy, "oooh, look! Little Aemond got knocked over by a girl!"

I raise a brow at the bratty response of the child. I whip my head to the other child as he suddenly swatted my hand away and stands up on his own.

"Aegon!" the shrill voice of the queen called.

The two boys promptly still and turn to their mother. I rise as Queen Alicient walks over to me, "I apologize for my sons behavior. They keep running away from their keeper."

I smile at her, shaking my head, "children are no trouble to me," I turn to the younger boy, "prince Aemond is very sweet, and his brother," I turn to whom the queen addressed as Aegon, "is very sharp about his tongue."

The Queen looks down at her eldest, "what did you say to Lady Rubin?"

"Nothing, mother, I-"

"Not to me," I smile, "to his brother. But I suppose the occurrence is common."

I watch as Alicient's cheek turns a shade red. My expression drops, "I meant no impertinence, my queen. I apologize." I turn to Aegon, "I'm sure the prince will grow out of it and be a fine ruler one day."

I bow before them and quickly speak, "your majesties," before continuing to walk off.

"Lord Corlys."

"Lady Rubin," he greets when I am near him, "it seems you have a knack of attracting Targaryen prince."

I press my lips into a line, "I cannot help who I attract, though I can use it to my advantage."

He nods, softly chuckling. He then side steps to better reveal the woman beside him, "this is Princess Rhaenys," my face brightens at the sight of her, "my lady wife-"

"I have heard a great many things about you and your mighty dragon, Meleys, my princess," I excitedly retort in High Valyrian, a bit too quickly perhaps. The white haired princess raises her brows at me. I bow before her, "it is an absolute honor to meet you."

She hums as I straighten myself up, "My husband, Lord of the Tides, told me you were the reason for the loss of his thousands worth of goods," she takes a moment before adding, "how did you manage it and remain unscathed?"

I break into a wide smile, feeling my fingers tingle in excitement, "honestly, your grace," I turn to my feet then back to the princess, I continue in High Valyrian, "I was, in fact, scathed, brutally after my my capture. One of the guards snuck into my cell to get even over a scar I placed on his cheek."

Princess Rhaenys watches my expression. I press my lips into a smile, "there is a price to be paid for every exploit, the cost is blood, honor, and life, although never only mine. I have paid every price with an unwilling generosity," I turn from her to her husband, "tis why I have agreed to the terms of our Lord Velaryon with no fuss. Not only am I certain of my capabilities, but I also no longer wish to give helplessly to men with power. I did not want another of my crew to die either."

The princess turns to her husband, eyes bearing a glint in them. She speaks in her mother tongue, "your stories do her no justice."

Corlys leans towards her, "we have yet to see how quickly she can amass the payment of her debt."

"Lord Corlys, Princess Rhaenys," a voice calls, "Lady Rubin," a man walks up beside me, offering his hand out, "it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

I look at his hand for a moment, gripping my own before lifting it up and pulling a smile, "the pleasure's all mine, ser..."

The man with dark brown hair and blue eyes takes my hand gently in his, "tis Lord Aiden of house Greystoke."

I feel my skin rise up with goosebumps when he presses his lips on the back of my hand. I withdraw my hand quickly right after. Lord Aiden does not seem to mind as he smiles and says, "I have heard of your exploits with Lord Corlys, my lady, and I say I am impressed."

I turn to Corlys and hold in a chuckle, "you misunderstand. I have not yet done exploits with Lord Corlys."

The young lord tilts his head and gives a confused puppy look. My lips curve in endearment. He raises a hand, "would you mind then if you continued on with this tale while sharing a glass of wine with me?"

Before Lord Corlys can but in, another voice speaks, "actually, I was wondering the same thing." I turn to the opposite direction and find a face of a smirking yellow haired man. He too extends his hand out to me, "Lord Jason Lannister."

I take one look of his calloused hands and clench my jaw. I bow at him instead, "a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Lord Jason."

The man looks at me for a moment, gripping his extended hand and recovering to his side. He clears his throat.

"It seems we shall have to continue our chat some other time, my lady," princess Rhaenys calls out in High Valyrian, making everyone turn to her.

My lips part in disappointment, "I do not care to converse with these lords."

Lord Corlys laughs at that.

"How lucky am I to be born a prince then," a voice calls from behind me. I turn over and see the face of prince Daemon, lips curved upward, and yet there was no amusement in his eyes.

"How impressive it is that you understand the tongue of the dragon," Lord Aiden says, eyes fixed on me. I turn from Daemon to him, unable to contain my amused chuckle at his glimmering eyes and admiring expression, "I know a great many languages, my lord."

"You must be well traveled then," he smiles.

"Like a pirate," Daemon blurts firmly, making both me and Aiden turn to him.

Aiden ignores him and adds, "I would love to hear about your travels, my lady Rubin." He nods bows and smiles with such reverence that I cannot contain my pleased expression.

Daemon's eyes are darker now, and as he steps closer, he speaks sternly, "Lady Rubin and I have premade plans."

I tilt my head to him, lips curving into a small smirk, "we do?"

"An execution," Daemon retorts plainly.

My amused expression beings to melt away.

Daemon looks at the concerned faces around him, pleased by it, but then his eyes fall on mine and he adds in a blurt, "--of sorts."

I suck in a breath and turn away from the prince, "it has been a pleasure to converse with you all," I turn to the princess in particular and smile, continuing in High Valyrian, "I look forward to continuing our chat, my princess."

Rhaenys nods, lips pressed in a soft smile.

"Do not forget about me, my lady," Aiden calls, making me turn to him.

I grin at this hopefully bright expression, "I would not dare dream of it, my lord."

I turn then to Daemon who gives me a pointed look before walking off. I give one quick curtsy then rush after the long striding prince.

I feel all the eyes of the room turn to me as I make haste towards the exit where the prince was headed. I realize he is doing it on purpose, making me run after him, as he weaves through the crowd. I am quicker and swifter then he'd give me credit for though.

The moment we make it out to the hall, Daemon speaks, "you enjoyed that."

"You will have to be more specific, Targaryen scum," I retort in High Valyrian.

"Those men! Fawning for you!" he blurts, still not relenting his quick pace.

I chuckle, having no choice but to run to catch up with him, "I enjoy your vexation to it."

He halts abruptly, causing me to slam onto his back with much force. I reel backwards as the prince turns about and walks towards me. When I catch his expression, I bite my lip to hold in a laugh. He is entirely serious when he speaks, but I find no threat in them, "it would do you good to burn in mind that no man shall have you but I."

I lick my lips and shake my head mockingly in disappointment, "oh, boys, so naturally uninclined to share."

"I am a prince," he seethes, enunciating each word clearly, face coming dangerously close to mine, "I was not taught to share, nor do I plan on doing so any time soon."

Daemon is a bit taken aback by the quick peck I place on his lips. His violet eyes darken where mine shimmer, "good to know, little boy."

With that, I dash past him and continue off to where he was heading originally.

It took two men to drag the raggedy body of the man in front of the prince and I. I look at the man, trying to distinguish if it was in fact the man who attacked me, but his body was so torn and filthy, and his face so distraught that I could not make out his features, nor distinguish the scar I left on him.

I turn to Daemon, who seems to sense my apprehension, and so he speaks, "do you remember her, rat?" the prince shifts from where he stood, turning his gaze to the man, "bask in the glory of your executioner."

I watch as the man writhes on the ground in pain. His limbs were cut in many ways, and it appeared to me he could no longer feel them. Suddenly, I fear that Daemon took the wrong person and made him suffer for the wrongs of another. I turn to Daemon, "are you certain this is the man I described to you?"

"He confessed and plead by his sins to me," the prince spoke, turning to me, "I made sure he suffered while you healed."

"Please," the man, who had his face on the dirt, heaves with great difficulty, "let me die."

A shiver runs down my spine. My tear immediately prick in my eyes. I turn to the man on the ground. Daemon looks at me, excited by my look of wrath.

"You plead for the wrong things," I mutter, "you should plead for my mercy, for my forgiveness," my breath quickens as anger rips at me, "you should plead that I take pity in you and that I shall spare your life so that you may return to your family."

He whines, barely able to raise his head, "I could not live... knowing I shamed my family."

His words strike a chord in me. I shriek in anger, ripping the blade Daemon had sheathed my his side, momentarily surprising him, "AND YET YOU WISH I LIVE WITH THE SHAME YOU INFLICTED ME!?!"

I raise Daemon's sword with two hands, its weight literally too heavy to bare. It didn't help that I was trembling in anger. It took so much for me not to drop the weapon.

Daemon moves to help me, but I shove him off. In turn, the sword slowly descends to the ground. With all my strength, made sure not to him the man on the floor because if I hurt him, I want to do it with intention. Still, I can't for the life of me decide whether or not I should let him die by my blade.

Tears run down my face, "perhaps I should let you live-- recover. Then you'd have a wife and daughter. Then you'd feel the fear in your soul over the idea they live in a world where men freely strut with intentions of desecrating them," I rapidly shake my head, "but that would be too good to you, wouldn't it? And too horrible to whom you would foolishly blindside into marriage.

"And it would be a shame if you birthed a son that would follow in your footsteps, and that he dare think it is his birthright to be vile," I cry, gripping the hilt of my sword with all my strength, "it would be-" I heave, trying to even out my breathing, "a great act of mercy for me to kill you, mercy to your pathetic self, and to the world that will be better off without you in it."

Yet I drop the sword, unable to cease the shivering of my hands, "but I will instead let The Stranger come for you, secretly in your cell, where you will wonder day after day when you will finally find relief. When your pain is hot, you will think of me, and how you so regret ever laying your filthy hands on me, for it is how I perceive you. Except I will heal from this horror and you will never."

Daemon watches me as I take deep breaths.

"Then you will know what it feels like to live with an irrevocable pain. Then you will know how it feels to live in a world, the same world where the person that hurt you struts freely."

After having my say, I release a breath and begin to walk back. I avert my gaze and allow tears to roll down my face.

The rapist is sobbing as well, uncontrollably, painfully, and begs with the remaining strength in him, "please."

The prince will not have it and grabs his sword, charging at the man. Daemon rips the man's head up by his matted hair. He screams because of it. It allows the prince the perfect opportunity to cut his tongue off. He screeches louder in pain. Daemon holds slimy prize up, "you've no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

"I want to leave now," I say in High Valyrian, bringing my hands to my face, rubbing my wet skin back and forth.

Daemon turns over to me and stands, "throw him back in his cell," he commands one last time, walking over to me.

Once he is before me, I look up at him, wrapping my arms around myself, "can you take me somewhere?"

For a moment, Daemon thinks.

"I don't want to go to the chambers right now. I will not find relief nor rest."

He lowers his gaze, slowly speaking, "I plan to feed the vermin's tongue to Caraxes."

I nod avidly, "please take me with you."

Daemon turns back to me, lips pulling downward at the sight of my frantic expression. He nods then walks off, leading me to the dragon pit silently.

As we walk, I am aware of how the people we pass try so hard not to look, lest they reap the wrath of their furious looking prince.

And yet, while on out way to the pit, there is one that dares to grab our attention. I hear a voice call out my name, it is frantic sounding. I recognized it to be of Lord Aiden's but I ignore it. Prince Daemon does not, and dirtily looks out to whom spoke. He finds himself glaring daggers at the young man with dark hair and blue eyes, though it seemed he did not even notice, as he was too preoccupied with a troubled expression.

We arrive at the pit, and somehow, the stench is comforting.

"Caraxes!" Daemon calls loudly, striding forward, deeper into the place with confidence, "I came bearing a gift." He raises the tongue and wiggles it in the air. The sight is revolting to my eyes, and I turn away, involuntarily gagging.

Daemon awaits his mount as it screeches from beneath the room, slowly crawling out.

Caraxes lets out a screech once he is before his master. Daemon throws the chunk of flesh to the dragon's massive mouth. Caraxes quickly catches it and swallows without a problem.

I watch as the large beast whines and shakes his head. I feel my chest tighten in anxiousness over the actions. I raise my eyes and step back slowly as the dragon comes my way.

Daemon raises his hands to the dragon, "Caraxes! Listen to me, submit to me, obey me," he enumerates in High Valyrian.

Caraxes does his telltale clicking noise and ruffles his wings as he steps around, clearly agitated.

My heart begins to pound, "Daemon, I-"

"He can sense your distress," he says, quickly turning over to me, then back to Caraxes, "calm yourself, boy."

I wrap my arms tighter around myself, feeling my dread further intensify, "Forgive me, but I cannot control my-"

"Call out to him," Daemon says, walking backwards to meet me. I move close to the prince and share a frantic look. He meets my gaze and reaches his hand out to me, wordlessly asking for my permission. I place my hand in his as he commands his dragon in High Valyrian, "Caraxes, calm yourself."

"Calm yourself," I repeat in the same tongue.

"Louder, more conviction," Daemon says, bringing our joined hands up in front of him, "come to me."

"Come to me," I say a volume louder. I look from Daemon to the dragon and command, "come to me to calm yourself."

The moment he hears this, Daemon finds no need to watch his dragon as he crawls over. He fixes his gaze upon me and rests his cheek on the crown of my head.

When Caraxes is close enough, he huffs through his nostrils, steam coming out. I place both my palms on him and bite my lower lip to hold in my sobs.

"He must have thought your distress was because of him," Daemon says, "perhaps because he didn't share the treat."

I choke on my tears as a laugh escapes me. Caraxes responds by pushing up against my hands. He lays his head on the floor before us. I coo, stroking the dragon's face, "you are the most generous boy I know."

Daemon chuckles, stroking Caraxes all the same, "my dragon is anything but generous."

I allow some final tears run down my face before I sigh, "thank you," I lean close to Caraxes then turn to Daemon, "my sweet and generous dragon."

He looks at me and raises his hand to my face, "may I?"

My only response is leaning against his hand. He wipes my tears with the pad of his thumb, "no man deserves your tears."

I close my eyes, feeling tears streak down my face, "I know."

The princes draws his hand back, "would you like to take my sweet and generous dragon out for a ride?"

My heart drops and my pulse quickens. I ask an octave higher than normal, "by myself?"

Daemon breaks into a laugh. He leans into his dragon, entertainment, "my cunning pirate bride loses her wits when she is around my mount."

When our eyes meet, I raise my brows at him, "you have a cunning pirate bride?"

He smirks, extending his hand out to me again, "there she is."

I take his hand and he pulls me towards him. Caraxes lifts his head as we make our way to his saddle. Daemon begins to climb up on him, and soon after, he extends his hand out for me. I give him an apprehensive look, but take his hand again and he helps me climb up his dragon.

"Be gentle," I mumble as he situates me in front of him, locking me in between his body and the reins.

Daemon chuckles and I squeak as Caraxes begins to move, "I thought you liked it when I'm rough, my dear ruby."

"You," I whine, "not Caraxes."

Daemon laughs again. Caraxes shrieks upon hearing his name.

Two years had passed since the day my house was reinstated and acknowledged by the king. And within this time, begrudgingly, I only managed to get about half of the sum I owed Lord Corlys, which to be fair, was about exactly how much I stole from him, considering he charged me twice the amount.

And honestly, I had not initially anticipated that he wanted me to do so in a way that obeyed the law. I mean, I may be a lady but I was a pirate. What did he expect of me? This was which was why it was taking unimaginably long to accomplish what I could do then in mere months. I had to barter instead of threaten and create relations than crack skulls, and honestly, I was missing the violence a bit, especially when men thought it was ok to breath down my neck.

Make no mistake, pain was a friend I introduced to many of my new acquiantances.

It was also surprising that it seems to Lord Corlys, the grueling time in my eyes was quick in his. I told Princess Rhaenys that his husband was unimpressive in that matter, and she only laughed at that.

Today, I was returning from a month's voyage, coming home with more than I anticipated for such a short travel, which was why I was particularly chirpy.

At the moment, I was heading to the guestroom where the Lord of Driftmark was staying for the while he is in King's Landing for the birth of his first grandchild to Lord Laenor and Princess Rhaenyra.

I was still dressed in my travel attire, fresh off the boat as I made my way down the castle's halls. I hear a commotion come from one of the rooms across the hall. By the time I reach the door where the noise sourced, a boy with silver white hair storms out, followed by another who runs after him, calling, "Aegon, you'll get us in trouble again!"

"We'll only get in trouble is someone tells," the taller of the two says in response, raising a finger, "and you better not."

"Aye," I call out, making the two turn to me. I cross my arms as the two look at me with an nervous expression, "the queen should not know about how her sons are bickering in the hall," I walk over and sneak a look to their open door, "instead of, what? Studying?"

"Insolar person," Aegon attempts at High Valyrian.

I make a face at the kid and ask in the same tongue, "is that supposed to be some sort of insult?"

The princes are shocked, the one called Aemond is particularly impressed, "you can speak High Valyrian?"

"Amongst other things."

Aegon, however, is unimpressed and crosses his own arms to prove it, "I didn't understand it. You just made that up."

I relax my arms to the side and reply again in the same tongue, "you didn't understand it because you cannot speak this language."

He makes a cross face. His brother looks at me in astonishment.

I shake my head and offer a smile, "you don't have to worry about me telling your mother, but I do so humbly suggest you study the language while you're still young. It'll get harder to learn once you're older."

With that, I give them a quick bow in regard and walk past them, making my way to where I was going to in the first place.

"Will you stay for dinner?" the voice of Aemond asks from behind me.

I do not bother turning to him when I reply, "I'm only here to speak to Lord Corlys, then I am returning to my estate."

I make it to the room and announce myself before entering.

Upon stepping into the room, Lord Corlys wastes no time in applauding me for my latest exploits, ceaselessly impressed by my capabilities, though again to my eyes it was sluggish.

"Although I am somewhat pleased and amused by your compliments, I am fairly certain that you did not call me here for that."

Corlys nods, "yes. Well, while you were away, I had many lords come to me with proposals of marriage. I think because of our houses' alliance, they think it is my business what you do with yours."

I cannot help but roll my eyes, "that, and they could not possibly communicate such important proposals with a woman."

"Well, the woman was on a voyage," he says, handing me a box of scrolls where the many marriage proposals were.

I scoff at the sight of it, "I meant my handmaiden, Abigail, who is in charge of my estate when I am not present."

Corlys chuckles, "I will make sure to direct any further inquiries to your handmaiden then."

I release a sigh and nod in regard, "thank you, my lord," I turn to the box in hand, "and apologies."

He shakes his head, "worry not about it. I feel responsible for you as well anyway, as you are not only my old friend's remaining daughter, but you are also returning your debt at a promising rate."

I shake my head and chuckle, "I will be off then, Lord Corlys."

When I make it to Jocelyn, I break into an amused smile upon spotting the man waiting for me, "my Lord."

Lord Aiden perks up at the sight of me then nods in regard, "my Lady Rubin." I raise my brows at him as he moves towards me with a smile plastered on his face, "as soon as I heard you were here, I made haste to meet you, knowing you are as swift as you go as you come."

I break into a chuckle, "an astute observation."

The man beams at my reaction, "I will not waste your time by asking you to dinner for clearly you are ready to leave."

"Another astute observation," I nod.

"I am glad however to behold your glorious face," he smiles, making my lips curl upward. He mimics my expression, "I do hope one day we will be able to share a meal though."

I shake my head, ceaselessly amused by him and his softly curved lips, "one day, perhaps."

"Welcome home, my Lady," Abigail, with her rosy cheeks and golden-brown hair, smiles at me once I enter. I return her expression and pull her into a hug, "where is your older brother?"

"William is out tending to the animals."

I pull away, smiling, "just like your father," I look at her, pushing Abigail's hair behind her ear, "and you look just like your mother."

She shakes her head as she chuckles, "you know you don't have to keep telling me that every time you see me."

"Well, I can't help it, it's true," I pull away from her, "Agnes and Douglas raised me like their own and yet... I could not even repay them in this life."

Abigail takes my hand, "taking us in is more than enough, sister."

My heart swells at her regard. She smiles at me, then gasps, "oh, I nearly forgot." I look at her reluctant expression and she raises a finger before speaking, "the prince is here."

I release a breath of relief, "I thought you were going to say someone broke in."

"Well," Abigail's eyes trail off, "he kind of did."

I roll my eyes at the thought.

She continues, "he had me draw a bath in your quarters. I told him it was indecent," she stressed out, "but, then he asked me if I wanted to know what real indecency was, and I could not bare the thought of him speaking vulgarities to me, and so I did his bidding." Abigail gives me a regretful look, "for that I sincerely apologise, I-"

"I am not cross with you, my dear," I say, placing a hand on her shoulder, "the Targaryen scum on the one h-"

"My lady!"

I raise my hands in defeat, "the prince," I correct myself before releasing a sigh, "think nothing of it, Abigail. Just go about your duties. It's almost time for supper. I'm certain everyone is famished."

"I shall make sure they wait for you before-"

"Nothing of the sort," I shake my head, "I might just take a bath myself and go to sleep."

Abigail makes a nervous look, "no- not with the prince around, right?"

I break into a laugh and shake my head, "silly girl, of course not."

She releases a breath she held in after hearing that.

"Perhaps I will be around him."

Abigail does not react because she does not understand.

I promptly make my way upstairs to my chambers. I enter and see scattered clothes on the floor. I click my tongue at the sight of it. I walk in deeper and see the door to my bath was wide open.

I walk in, slowly undressing myself of my outerwear as I find Daemon in the large, circular stone tub, eyes closed. I make my way closer, prompting the man to speak, "took you long enough."

"When did you get here?"

He chuckles, "worry not, it was not too long."

"I'm not worried about you, I'm worried that you might have rode Caraxes and left him somewhere to devour our livestock out of spite."

I stand before him at this point. His lips are curled upward mischievously, "I left Caraxes in King's Landing. I think he's coming down with a cold-"

"A cold," I snort.

"- and would feel better if you visited him."

I shake my head, "are you trying to ineffectively guilt trip me into coming home with you?"

"It's not ineffective if it works."

I roll my eyes at him, "you threatened to speak vulgarities to Abigail if she not drawn you a bath in my chambers?"

His lips quirk up higher, "vulgarities? Is that what she said?" He opens his eyes and turns to me, "I only asked her if she wanted to know of how her lady spent her time before she her house, Rubin, was reinstated."

"She is an innocent child, Targaryen scum."

He chuckles, "she is a maiden in marrying age. You would benefit from marrying her off to some rich moron."

"Hmm," I cross my arms, "I actually received an entire box of marriage proposals myself. I am thinking of holding a banquet soon enough to comb through my potential husbands."

He scoffs, "I'm sure they're all so eager to get their grubby fingers into your steady growing wealth," he wades his hand in the water and continues in High Valyrian, "you would be the best thing in their life, while they would be worst thing in yours."

I smack my lips and step closer to Daemon, placing my hands behind my back, "that oddly sounds like you're describing yourself."

Daemon straightens from where he sits, making the water around him ripple, "except I'd rather stick my fingers in your sopping cunt."

The statement does not land on my ears the way he intends. I clench my jaw upon hearing that and reel back. A memory plays in my mind against my will. My hands curl up into a ball as I step away.

"Fuck," he mutters upon realizing, "I- fuck- I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine, Daemon," I mutter, "it happens. It's not your fault."

I turn around and decide to walk off.

I wasn't always like this. There were moments were I absolutely reveled at the idea of being desired, where I basked in the praise and worship Daemon sung against my skin. I could not control it though when I was caught in the opposite end.

I didn't want to be at the opposite end though, which is why I turn back to Daemon, "is the water still warm?"

He looks at me, "just a bit."

I begin to undress myself fully as I walk over to the large circular tub. Daemon watches my every move but once I pull my shirt off, he averts his gaze, "do you want me to go?"

"No," I remove my trousers.

A moment passes before he speaks up again, "can I touch you, my ruby?"

I, too, take a moment before replying, "perhaps."

"Perhaps is not yes," he says, leaning his head back on the stone, closing his eyes, "you have nothing to prove."

I press my lips into a line as I dip my foot into the water.

True, he was selfish and unhinged his man was, but Daemon was also a fierce supporter. He never spoke to me in profound manners, he never pushed me or instructed me to do things he thought was right, but instead when he was by my side, he remind me of my fire.

Sure, he was rugged in his ways, but there was still solace to be found in knowing he'd be willing the burn the whole world down for me. Sometimes, that was was enough. Right now however, I wanted him to be more tender towards me.

The water rises as I sit down across Daemon, who pulls his legs towards him, so not to bump into mine.

I was supposed to tell him this, ask him to hold me in his arms, but his own words cut me off before I could even speak, "is this why you have not agreed to my proposals?"

I look at him and his exposed neck. My usual self would normally think this moment a great opportunity to latch my lips onto his skin, but I do nothing but splash water onto my arms before I respond, "I like to think it's because I want to keep receiving gifts from men who think they can have me."

He barely releases a chuckle.

"They will cease once I marry, and free gifts are is still free gifts."

Daemon peels his eyes open, "if it's material you want, then I will offer you all the riches I have and all the riches I will ever acquire."

"Will you also accompany me in my travels to pay back Lord Corlys?" I ask, lips curving into a small smirk.

"I'll pay him myself," he retorts, eyes finally finding mine.

For a moment, his gaze upon me is light. The fiery look of desire in his longing gaze was welcomed, but there is a looming darkness in my mind. It doesn't take long for me to feel the need to wrap my arms around my bare chest, feeling too exposed in all the wrong ways in his eyes.

"You should wash up and go to bed," Daemon says, releasing a sigh.

I watch him as he gathers himself up, "what will you do then?"

"Me?" he starts, standing, beginning to make his way out of the water, "I will busy myself in watching you sleep."

I chuckle upon hearing that, eyes fixed on the water as the prince makes his way out, "pervert."

He chuckles, "I thought I would be hailed romantic for wanting to keep an eye on my bride."

"I am not your bride."

"And so you keep rejecting me."

Finally, the day has come.

I have now fully paid my debt to Lord Corlys. It unfortunately took two years off my time again, but I try to simply focus on the fact the deed is done and not dwell on how long it took.

Today, I was holding a hunting party in celebration with all the servants of my. The original intent of this celebration was to celebrate my freedom, but it seems the news of the hunting party spread too widely, as many of my suitors just happened to be at the very site I planned to hunt on the same very day!

William and I at present were racing each other back to the camp with two rabbits and a duck. We had no luck to find a bigger prize, and we both knew it was probably because the lords scared them off on their way here.

Abigail hurriedly receives us when we arrive. The very moment I'm off my steed she asks, "may I attend to you, my lady?"

"Actually, Gail, we caught some-"

She cuts her brother off and raises her hands, "my Lady Rubin?"

I give her a look and nod before dismounting my horse. The very moment I am beside her, she firmly grasps my arm and mutters, "my lady, the lords have been pestering me left and right. You mustn't dare leave me again to think of a thousand more excuses as to why you cannot see to them."

I sigh at the idea of entertaining the men and give my handmaiden a look, "why are you so keen on attending to them? They are not invited company in the first place, Abigail."

"My lady! You cannot be so uncourteous. I fear if turn all of them away with no regard, you will never be able to marry!"

"Tis I that is uncourteous in your gaze?" I ask a bit too loud for Abigail's taste, making her whine and hush me as she gripped onto my arm tightly. "And," I add, "are you so truly unsatisfied with the merit I brought back to my dead house, that you so eagerly wish that I marry a Lord?"

"My lady!" she sighs in defeat, "you did not have me go and study to be a handmaiden only for you to ignore the heeds of which I learned!"

"Abigail, I sent you off that you would learn to read and write, and gain confidence in your-"

"And I am confident that if you turn them away I will weep on days end, my lady," she whines. True to her words, her eyes begin to glass, "I cannot allow you to act so rugged so publicly!"

"I did recount to you that I was a pira-"

"No longer!" she cries. I look at her face and her poor expression nibbles away at my heart.

I sigh, looking away, "fine!"

Abigail blinks rapidly, unable to believe what she just heard.

I pull away from her and turn my gaze upon the group of men that were casually conversing with themselves, really as though they happened to stumble across each other by chance.

The moment I am near them, I purse my lips and bow quickly in regard, "gentlemen."

The five bachelors turn to me and return the sentiment. Amongst them was Lord Aiden and and in fairness to him, his chirpy gaze does take away a bit of my annoyance. Still, I give a pulled expression, "what happy luck that we all wind up in the same forest on the same day. Agreed?"

They all nod eagerly, but before they could speak, I beat them to it, "what do you lords think of playing a game?"

Jason Lannister smirks, "well what kind of game do you have in mind, my lady?"

"A hunting game of course," I say slowly, concealing my bored look with a smirk, "my handmaiden would not allow me not to invite you to supper, so I say," I raise a hand, "winner eats next to me at the table."

"Consider me eager to win then, my lady," Aiden Greystoke says.

I turn to Aiden as the other lords mumble words of agreement. I hold his excited gaze as I announce, "an elk then. Bring me back an elk."

Aiden bows his head, "then an elk you shall receive from me."

The lords turn to Aiden, throwing him a dirty look before going off to their horses.

When I move to go mount my own, one of them stupidly inquire, "you will be joining us?"

"Well, of course," I retort, climbing my ride, "how do you expect me to believe you played fair if I do not witness the hunt myself?"

And just as I suspected, there was foul play amongst them the very moment we galloped into the woods. It was in the most discrete of manners, choosing roads that were narrow, running faster than needed, taking sharp turns, but I was privy to it.

At a point, they were so keen on losing each other that I purposefully fell back and let them ride away. I was willing to bet they wouldn't even notice my absence.

And so I was quite surprised, yet not at all, when I slowly lead my horse followed after the lords that Lord Aiden came back for me, relief visible in his features although he was still quite far away.

"My dear ruby," he sighs once his horse stops next to mine. His words makes me think of how different it sounds when Daemon calls me such. "I feared they injured you instead with their pettiness."

I give him side eye as I instruct my horse to continue its way, "do you think calling me pet names will make me alter the premise of my game to your favor?"

He chuckles, gloved hand running through his thick dark hair as his ride walks next to mine, "I wouldn't dare think of making you result to such unfairness," he smiles, "but there's more to be won than an elk that probably already retreated out of the forest having heard the galloping buffoons a mile off."

I chuckle at his words, "and you think you are not a buffoon, Lord Greystoke?"

"Aiden," he says, "The true Lord Greystoke is my grandsire, then my father, then my older brother."

I hum at that as he continues, "I not the heir apparent like the other lords, but I like to think I do have better breeding than then." He breaks into his signature puppy smile, "and no, I think when I am beside a lady such as you, I am quite possibly the biggest buffoon in the realm."

I cannot withhold my chuckle. Aiden is pleased with himself.

"Now I'm curious because of your answer, Aiden," I start, turning to him, "it has been years since we first met and you have regarded me with nothing but honeyed words. Why then have you not married?"

Aiden chuckles, shaking his head, "well, my lady, you have not yet accepted my proposal."

"There are a many other higher standing ladies than I. It's clear to me at least the other lords present are to benefit greatly from my alliance to the Lord of Driftmark as well as the strategic placement of my estate, but you-"

"- would stand to benefit more by marrying a lady with a clearer dowry, rather than that of a lady who is making efforts to rebuild her house," he continues for me, turning to me with a lopsided smile, "have you been speaking with my father?"

"I need not to," I smile back, "I-"

But suddenly, Aiden's hand darts up and he shushes me, looking off to the side. For a moment, I am taken aback, but whatever offence I was about to feel fades when he points to the far off corner where an elk was grazing.

"The gods are on my side it seems," he mutters softly, grabbing the bow he had by the side of his horse. He gently guides his steed to find a better view of the animal, but just as he was about to draw his arrow, someone else shoots at the elk, but misses greatly.

We turn to the direction of the shot and find the four other lords cursing to themselves. Obviously at this point, the elk is spooked and runs off. The lords run after him and yet Aiden hesitates.

I raise my brows at him, "come now, slowpoke."

It doesn't take long for us to wind up back at the same trail as the other lords, only this time, they were all focused on catching the elk, screaming at their horses to ride faster, so not to lose their prize.

For a moment, my ears play tricks on me when I hear a clicking whine from afar. I look to my sides but see nothing but the Lord's neighing horses.

The elk makes a mistake of running out of the cloak of the woods and into the plains. The game was practically over when the lords circled around the beast and pulled out their weapons.

But that was until the unmistakable sound of Caraxes' screech fills the sky. Every beast on the ground was startled, and soon enough, the dragon swooped in and ripped the elk's head off with one strong bite.

Every lord's horse rallies in different directions. I work hard to keep my own from charging into someone else's.

Soon enough, the horses are calm and Caraxes lands near us, licking its mouth.

Prince Daemon's eyes are on me as he shouts from his dragon's back, "I thought you needed my assistance."

"Twas a game, your grace," Jason shouts back, fully annoyed, "the winner sits next to Lady Rubin at supper."

The silver haired prince extends his arms out victoriously, "then I will gladly take my seat next to bright ruby."

"Except you were not part of the game," Aiden retorts.

Daemon eyes dart to him; his pleased expression falters.

Aiden adds, half-heartedly, "my prince."

"And anyway," I finally speak, "it was Caraxes that caught the elk, not you."

Daemon's smirk grows again as he turns to me, "by my command no less."

"Matters not," I call, turning to the begrudged looks on the lords' faces, "I have decided I will not sit at the table at all, so to save everyone from divulging in an argument. My handmaiden would be terribly distressed if I allowed such a thing to ensue."

With that, we all head back to the campsite. Caraxes swoops in with the elk before we even arrive and Abigail is absolutely mortified.

While we were plating the food for the lords, Abigail she mutters to me softly, "my lady, you ought to tell that," her voice softens even more, "dragon rider to keep his mischief to himself."

William grabs the full plates agrees with less regard of whom hears, "yes, he's getting quite annoying and his dragon is a hazard to the livestock."

Abigail shoots William a dirt look before turning back to me, "I cannot even comprehend why you allow him to lurk around you, my lady."

"He's got a big co-"

"Will you poison my food again, wench," Daemon asks, walking up behind me, causing Abigail's face to pale like a ghost and squeak out in response, "your highness!"

Daemon looks down at her and chuckles, pushing away his amused expression to seriously retort, "it means beautiful in High Valyrian."

"Stupid fucking idiot prince," I say in the very language.

He raises a finger at me, "that, however," he smirks, brows knitting, "is treason."

"My lady!" Abigail whines.

I turn to her and shrug, "oh don't listen to him," I grab the remaining plates and ready to walk off, "I only complimented his pretty face."

Daemon watches as William, Abigail, and I walk off to serve the food to the lords on the table. I then beckon the rest of my servants to grab food for themselves.

"If you will not sit next to me as the victor of your game," Daemon says, walking up next to me before sitting on a vacated chair, "then by my royal command you shall."

I make a face at him. The rest of the lords on the table do so as well.

It's clear to me that this is just a game to him, and yet his power trip annoys me thoroughly. Does he think I hesitate to jump him? Does he think care about what these lords will think of me if I do?

Before I could even move, I hear my handmaiden speak but cut herself off. I look over to her, practically feeling her anxiousness.

"That's hardly fair of you to force a lady into your bidding," Aiden notes, tilting his head.

His words make me turn to him and dare I say his annoyed expression towards Daemon was quite arousing.

The prince doesn't even spare him a bit of attention, eyes fixed on me as he spreads his legs on the chair, "it would be most impertinent and treasonous of you to decline," the prince says, eyes averting to my golden haired servant, "wouldn't you agree, Abigail?"

Abigail turns from the prince to me, slowly agreeing "it would, my prince."

I press my lips together, "then I shall humor you, if not for the sanity of my handmaiden."

Daemon is pleased as watches me sit beside him. He leans back then says, "my chambers have missed your voice."

He speaks this so plainly, so uncaring of who hears, and yet the very contents of his words are like a firecracker that make all the lords the table freeze and look.

"What do you wish to gain from telling me this, prince Daemon?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

He chuckles at my deviant tone, "I should wish to have your company. My warmth longs for yours-"

"HAVE SOME MORE ELK!" Abigail rips between us, giving Daemon a large piece of meat.

I ignore Abigail however and move closer to the table to look Daemon in the eye, "you are keeping my company now, are you not?"

Abigail eyes me harshly as Daemon leans forward as well, "not in anyway that counts."

"OH I DO HOPE-" Abigail speaks too loudly that she had to cut herself off, "that you two do not speak too much, lest the food get cold!"

"Correct, my Targaryen," I word out carefully, "prince," I press my teeth together, "you should only concern yourself with the food, or else my handmaiden will not find peace."

Abigail throws me a worried look before curtsying and walking away.

Daemon leans back on his chair, "I hunger for other things, my lady, as you are well aware."

And just in that very moment, Caraxes screeches, causing everyone to turn to him in shock. The dragon then spits his fire to one of my horses.

"CARAXES!" both his rider and I shout, standing from our seats.

William in particular pulls at his hair and shouts, "NO, NO, YOU MALICOUS BEAST!"

Daemon storms over to his dragon who was effectively ignoring him, happily finishing the horse, ready to devour another.

"Caraxes," Daemon scolds, making the said beast whine in response, "back up," he commands in High Valyrian.

The dragon does not want to and vocalizes this. His master does not flinch though, "submit to me, dragon."

I figure Caraxes might have smelled our food which was why he was acting out. I then walk off to get some for the creature. Aiden watches as I grab the remaining uncooked parts of the elk, as well as a few rabbits. Promptly he is by my side, helping me carry the meat.

We then make our way to the prince and his dragon. Caraxes looks my way when we near and whines.

"Enough whining, boy," I speak in High Valyrian, throwing the severed elk leg to his mouth. He snaps at his gratefully and I wait a few moments before throwing the rabbits towards him.

Daemon looks past me, eyeing Aiden dirtily as he hands me the rest of the meat, "that's enough from you."

Aiden ignores him as watches me throw the final rabbit to Caraxes mouth.

"You! Boy!" Daemon blurts, "sit back dow and enjoy your dinner."

"I should not leave the lady in front of a restless dragon," Aiden replies, not even looking at the prince when he says this, eyes are glued on me.

Daemon breaks into a deep laugh. He moves back, walking behind me as he goes to Aiden, "the Blood Wyrm will not dare harm her, especially not in front of me,"

I instinctively bring my hands up in front of Caraxes when he begins to do his telltale clicking sound. I turn to Daemon as he pierces a look of daggers at Aiden, "you on the other hand-"

"Stop!" I blurt in High Valyrian for both of the agitated dragons. I give Caraxes one last look before placing myself between Daemon and Aiden. I eye the former, "enough. Take Caraxes and go."

"No," he says, not tearing his eyes from Aiden, "I will not leave my woman here with a-"

"She is not your woman!" Aiden bites back, "if she was, she would be a Targaryen by no-"

"Oh, by all means," Daemon barks, "she's been so tainted that to Caraxes, we are the one in th-"

"Yet you have no honor to court her formally," Aiden seethes, "you spoiled piece of fuck-"

Daemon does not hesitate and lunges, but of course to do this, he had to shove me to the side. The prince can already imagine how he'll scream when he severs the brown haired moron's head off.

Caraxes whines in anger as I topple before him. It is the fire he breathes overhead that stops Daemon and Aiden from continuing their tussle.

"Calm yourself," I cry in High Valyrian, feeling tears prick at the corner of my eyes in fear of what the dragon would do because of his reckless rider.

Daemon shoves Aiden away and raises a hand at his dragon, "calm yourself, Caraxes!"

Caraxes ceases his fire breathing and whines angrily at Daemon. I roll to my back in fear, pushing myself away from the dragon when he dips his head down to me.

Daemon turns to me and moves to help me up. I swat him away, seething in anger, "get your hands off me."

Caraxes growls.

Daemon steps forward, "Caraxes can sense-"

"Oh, now you care about Caraxes," I scream back, standing from the ground, "but you were alright with him burning the fucking whole forest down out of your spite just seconds ago."

"Calm yourself," he speaks to me as if I was his dragon.

"I will NOT calm down for you!" I quip violently over my breath. I shove him back, "I'm tainted, am I?" I growl, eyes burning at his choice of words, "tainted by the fucking men who abuse me? Parade me as if I meat? As if I am their property?!"

He calls out my name but it makes me sick to my stomach. I seethe, "fuck you!" I growl, "get your fucking dragon out of my sight. Or have him burn me, I don't care!"

Daemon watches as I step away from him and scream out, "EVERYONE OF YOU LEAVE! YOU SELFISH PIGS WERE NEVER INVITED IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

"My lady!" Abigail cries out in her soft, concerned voice as I storm towards her.

"Tell everyone the hunt is over. We're all leaving."

"But my lady-"

"I did not mean it like that," Daemon speaks in High Valyrian, cutting my handmaiden off as he tails after me.

"It doesn't matter how you meant it!" I growl, grabbing a spoon from the table, throwing it at him, "you think I am lesser than you!"

"That's not-"

"YOU THINK I'M A FUCKING WHORE!" I screech, "but you know what?!" I step towards him, "I'll accept it, cause maybe I am. But will NEVER be yours."

Daemon looks down at me, still at the rage directed at him.

I raise my voice in his mother tongue, making sure every word will sting, "I would rather marry pig than be with someone who kisses me then spits on my bones. At least then I wouldn't feel so degraded when he takes a shit in my house because I expected that."

"What then?" he scoffs in the same language, pointing to Aiden, "you'd rather choose him?"

I fake excitement, "sounds like a fine idea!"

"I fucking waited for you," Daemon growls, stepping so close to me that our bodies were nearly touching, "I waited for you for years, not taking the company of any other-"

"Oh!" I clap my hands, "give the boy a prize for not sticking his dick into the first hole he sees!"

"I waited on your s-"

"I DON'T OWE YOU ANYTHING! I never forced you to keep me company, but by the gods, I was fucking raped, Daemon!" I heave, chest rising and falling.

Abigail gasps.

"You have no idea how it feels to be called tainted by a man who you thought--" my tears cut me off. I grip my hands tightly into a fist and push them against my face.

Daemon is utterly defeat. His chest is tight. He can barely think, yet he manages to ask, "thought what, my love?" he whispers desperately in his language, eyes urging me to continue.

I groan, ripping at my hair, "you don't even fucking know?" I look at him through tears, feeling something like a poison run though my whole body.

"I won't know if you don't tell me, now won't I?" he whines.

There it is, the harsh flick of his tone that he can't seem to shake off.

"Fuck off," I growl, wiping my tears harshly away. I point accusingly to his mount, "take Caraxes and GO!"

Caraxes reacts to his name and whines, announcing himself. I ignore him though, turning away from his rider, commanding my servants to make haste to leave.

I should have known his pride would have never allowed him to come to me first, and yet, I am still surprised that he lasted a month without my presence. And so, out of my own weighing conscience, I decide to come to him first.

When I send word of my visit to King's Landing however, I am met with a reply that the Prince had left without word and that they knew not when he would return. I then wrote that I would like to know of his return so that I might discuss matters with him, and I was told in turn not to expect word anytime soon for the prince was known to leave months at a time.

The last letter I sent was saying I did not care when I would receive word of the prince's arrival, so long as I received it. My last reply was that they would send word the moment the prince returns.

But this was all a year ago.

It would be a terrible lie to say that I have forgotten about Daemon with all the tasks and the fortune I grew to have within the time, but the truth was, I didn't. More than ever I think I know his features better with how much time I spent recalling them.

In fact now, as the year welcomed it's second season, I was awfully excited to be invited to the palace for the celebration of the birth of Princess Rhaeyra's second child, just in case it was that someone did forget to tell me of the prince's return and I would have a chance to meet with him.

"Congratulations, your majesty," I smile at Rhaenyra who was rocking her newborn babe in her arms.

"Thank you, lady Rubin," she smiles, "he is so sweet and barely fusses," when she says this, she turns from her baby, then instinctively to her guard, ser Harwin.

I watch them look at each other. But I cannot help but turn my gaze upon the princess' first born, who was being held by a handmaiden behind the princess. His hair was affectionatle pushed back by the said handmaiden.

I bite my lower lip to hold in a chuckle of amusement, "I'm jealous of you, your highness."

"Why is that?" she responds as well in High Valyrian.

Lord Laenor comes up next to his wife and coos at the baby in Rhaenyra's arms. I smile, "your babies are beautiful."

Laenor turns to me when I say this, as does Rhaenyra, eyes sparkling at the compliment.

"I thought you'd have children at this point," Rhaenyra says, making me chuckle.

I cross my arms, "honestly, part of me thought so as well."

"And I always thought you'd end up with prince Daemon, yet here he is, expecting a child with my sister," Laenor says, proceeding to coo at his son again.

I knit my brows, "what?"

Rhaenyra turns back to me from her son, face falling upon seeing my expression.

I ask again, "what did you say?"

Laenor turns to me, indifferent, "oh. Have you not heard? My sister is with child. She says she believes it to be a girl, but the maesters-"

"Out of wedlock?" I quip, making ser Harwin shift in his place uncomfortably.

Laenor looks like he saw a ghost, "what?! What nonesense is-"

"You do not know," Rhaenyra states, lips pulling downward, "they married months ago and have since been traveling on dragonback."

I step back involuntarily as my knees give in.

"Are you alright?" Laenor asks.

I feel my corset constrict around me as my pulse quickens. For a moment, I swear I feel the room spin. I step back a few more times and speak words that do not match my actions, "I'm fine."

Rhaenyra looks at me in concern, "ser Harwin, help Lady Rubin to-"

"No," I raise my hand, halting Harwin before he can come any closer, "I suddenly am feeling the effects of not having eaten breakfast."

"Would you like a glass of water, my lady?" Harwin asks.

"Don't trouble yourself," I shake my head and turn to Rhaenyra, not appreciating the look she was giving me, "congratulations again, my princess. I shall be stepping out for some air."

Rhaenyra does nothing but watch me walk away.

I walk and walk and walk aimlessly. I feel like a headless chicken, and yet I am surprised as it seems my legs were actually taking me somewhere. I find that I brought myself to the dragon pit.

I pathetically walk in, mumbling Caraxes under my breath, over and over and over again. I obviously hear no response. Not only was my voice too quiet for the dragon to hear anyway, but in my very bones I knew that he would not be here.

And so in the same pathetic manner, I curl up in my arms and break into a sob. I rub my eyes roughly and whine out words of regret as the wretched smell of the place finally become apparent to me. The scent brings back the memory of the first time I rode on Caraxes. I had felt defeated before we flew up in the air, but when I came back down, I was invincible. I felt that all worries were blown away in the wind, yet now I was imagining him riding off with another woman.

"My dear ruby," a voice speaks up, making me abruptly turn over to where the sound sourced.

My lifted spirit drops back down when I see it was not prince Daemon that called me, but the young prince Aemond with worry laced in his shimmering violet eyes.

I release a shudder, attempting to calm myself. When I was calm enough, I speak, "you know," I sniffle, "it is not right for you to call me that, young prince."

His cheeks begin to turn a shade of scarlet, "but that is what your name means and what your emblem holds... a ruby."

I shake my head, "but am I your dear, Aemond?"

He clenches his jaw and turns his head, willing the burning of his cheeks away, "you are my subject, and my subjects are all dear to me."

This does not fail to make me chuckle.

"And it is impertinent of you to call me by my name," he adds, beginning to draw nearer to me, "but I shall allow it."

I grin softly at the child, "what pure generosity, my liege."

Once he is standing beside me, I chuckle again as I look down on his shiny white hair, "my, how you've grown since I last laid my eyes upon you."

He shuffles in his place smoothening out the sleeves of his coat.

"How old are you? Seven?"

Aemond stills, turning to me with furrowed brows, "I am a year and ten!"

"My," I chuckle, "how mature you are now, my Aemond."

He opened his mouth to say something, but it seems he forgot it as he just stands there with his jaw hanging.

I take this moment to turn away from him and wipe my face with the back of my hands, "what brings you here, my prince?"

"I... I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Me?" I turn back to him, smirking, "I thought to visit Caraxes but-"

"My uncle is not here."

"Yes," I smile softly, "as I learned myself just this morning."

Aemond then asks me a question that makes me still, "do you love him?"

I take a moment to respond and I look around the expanse of the room before I do, "yes."

Aemond ceases his breathing.

"I love Caraxes very much."

He pulls his head back upon hearing that.

I turn to him, leaning down with a mischievous grin, "I was thinking of stealing him all for myself."

The boy looks up at me in astonishment. I break into a laugh, remembering the expression well, "I jest, darling boy, Caraxes is fiercely loyal to his master."

Aemond's expression fades.

I press my lips in a smile, "might you introduce me to your own mount instead?"

The curve of my lips flattens when Aemond's cheeks burn again. He opens his mouth, releasing a stutter before he finally forms out, "I do not have one."

I still, "I apologize," I shake my head, "I did not know-"

"I come here because I like to think I can steal a dragon myself. I shall introduce you the very moment I have one. I promise you, my lady," he says with utmost certainty.

"Aemond," I move closer to him, raising my hands, "may I?"

He gives me a questioning look before realizing I was asking for his permission to touch him. After he nods, I place my hands on both his shoulders and give him a sincere look, "a true man does not go back on word, much less should a prince make promises he does not care to keep and will forget in due time."

"Is that why you're crying?"

"What?"

"Prince Daemon made you an empty promise?"

I pull away from him after he says this.

Aemond is taken aback by the withdrawal and immediately regrets his words, "I am not like him! I will not be a prince who makes empty promises."

"Lady Rubin!"

Both Aemond and I turn to whom called out for me, and soon enough, a brown haired man jogs towards us, a look of relief is on his face, "the servants said they saw you heading here," he catches his breath, "I came running the moment Princess Rhaenyra told me you were visiting."

"Lord Aiden," I smile at him, "it has been a while since we've spoke."

"Yes, and you are as radiant as ever, my lady."

Aemond gives him a dirty look while I chuckle softly, "and your words are as honeyed as ever. I do wonder how your wife feels about that."

"Shall I ask?" he smirks, making my face contort. He then bends down on one knee and raises a hand at me, "will you marry me, lady Rubin?"

My face contorts yet again, but this time I end up laughing.

"What a moron," Aemond scoffs in High Valyrian.

My laughter ceases upon hearing this. I turn to the boy, feeling awfully proud of him, "my, our clever little prince knows to speak High Valyrian now!"

Aemond turns to me, cheeks catching on fire yet again.

Aiden turns from the boy, then to me, huffing, standing once again, "your hand in marriage may be perhaps the most challenging thing to acquire in the whole kingdom."

I turn to the Lord, feeling my witty retort leave me when I see him nibble at his lower lip and run his hand through his hair.

"Still, the Greystokes are known to be vigorous and I intend to show you this, if you so allow me," he extends his hand out to me.

I shock him when I do not hesitate to take it and reply, "alright."

Aiden's eyes widen, as does Aemond's. It takes the lord a moment to reply, "wonderful."

"My prince," a servant walks in after announcing herself over to the seated man.

Daemon, who was playing with his newborn daughter, turns from crib to the woman who walked over, "a letter has arrived for you."

Laena, who had entered the room, coming from a bath, asks upon hearing that, "who is it from?"

Daemon opens the letter, dismissing his servant with a nod. Laena watches as her husband's face contorts upon reading the contents of the letter.

"What is it?" she asks.

"Nothing," he roughly crumples the letter and stands from his chair, "a wedding invitation."

"Oh?" her voice is interested, "whose of?"

He throws the letter to the fire place, pulling an annoyed look, "does it matter? We're not going. You've just given birth."

"Yes, but I would at least like to know who-"

"Some fucking lord I could not care less about," he angrily states, "he's got some nerve inviting me when he knows how my blood boils at the sight of him."

Laena releases a breath. She walks over to him and gives him a calming embrace. It takes a moment for Daemon to melt against her touch.

"Think nothing of it, husband," she hums in their native tongue, "I will melt all your worries away."

He finds no real comfort in the musings of his wife though. It is apparent with how he rides Caraxes later that night.

[skrunklepng]

IM HOLDING AN ART RAFFLE!!!!

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[viro-lil-goat]

I already wrote this in reblogs but i want to saparate so here we go, shoutout to this post

AU Hyde friends with Emma Carew

In this au, or more like an addition i can add to one of my aus – in one of Hydes outings, while jumping on the roofs he noticed Emma crying on balcony to her room. Even though he would usually leave (and Jekyll dosent want to get in trouble hence Hyde is still a searched criminal) he decided to come closer, Emma noticed him and was confused on why tf theres a man on the roof above her balcony (i would shit my pants) But Hyde reassured her he isnt a threat, and was just coming by (on the roofs 🤨). And asked her whats wrong.

Surprisingly she wasnt afraid, she already had a breakdown so she couldn't really think straight.

She told him she is supposed to have an arranged marriage with Simon Stride, in her families will. But she doesn't love him nor she ever had romantic or sexual attraction to anyone ever (shes aroace but that term didnt exist back then ). Plus, hes a jerk towards her.

Hyde shows his opposition to it, he thinks all those traditions and aristocrat things are absolutely stupid (sorry for my lack of smart language 😂) . He tells her he knows one person who was also married against their will, and that ruined their relationship with their lover (as hyde says this jekylls jaw drops to the floor XD). So he understands how harmful it can be. He jokes to lift Emmas mood.

Emma already calmed down thanks him, and also tells abot how in general its annoying. Her fathers friends were making jokes about her marrying jekyll right after their dance. Her father dosent take her seriously as he thinks shes still kid (like in musical, same with her mothers death) and he dosent think that marriage is harmful as family of simon conviced him otherwise. She dosent blames him but still holds a grudge for not helping her but instead adding fuel to the fire.

Hyde dosent knows what to say so he suggests her to jump on roofs with him to unwind, jekyll as a shadow is completely apposed. She is unsure but decides to accept the offer. Jekyll tries his hardest but hyde has an idea to make it a little safer.

Since shes in a party dress she takes some time to change into more for jumping clothes. Hyde asks her to hold his hand so she dosent fall while jumping

Artistic interpritation bc im not good with words XD

(the end of second slide feels weird but i didnt know how elso to phrase it 🫡)

And here another time they meet ⬇️

Okay im almost done this took wayy too long

Hence things has worsen with her abusive fiancée, and marriage was soon to happen, she decided to run away and asked Hyde for help in that

Later on i imagine her cutting her hair as a sign of new life (so she'll have something like a pixie cut)

She would write her father a letter that she has left due to her own will

Andd Hyde helps her escape to become of Lucy girls ^^ they still meet even after that.

Thinking abt that, most likely in this scenario her father would still search for her. Just wondering if suspecting Hyde should be a part of it (maybe someone has seen them or something like that)

Okay phew finally first one done ☠️ thats exactly why i usually only keep it in my mind its so hard expressing what im thinking i had to fill the gaps as i wrote. Buttt i want to share (and not forget) so here

[freebooter4ever]

You worry about the theoretical possibility of someone hitting your guys the way trouba hits everyone else instead of worrying about the not-theoretical guys he puts on IR multiple times a season?

He’s a real problem now, not just in your imaginary world where he’s on any other team.

So it sounds like you might really really dislike troubs, and if you don't want to block me the other option is blacklisting "NYR" - tumblr makes it really easy, and i am usually very careful to tag all my r*ngers reblogs/posts with that. I myself have one specific player's name blacklisted because just seeing it triggers me into anger. (discussion of the physical part of hockey got long, under tag)

There's two options: full tag, and also in the body of the post so tumblr will filter out ALL posts with that word. But it won't hide the posts it just gives a nice greyed out warning so you don't have to see it. Trust me, its great, it's the only way i got through having that asshole on my favorite team for a few months. (and you can still click to unhide the post, like say when geno is defending the pens goalie and swatting the asshole player like a fly and you want to reblog the gif)

For a direct response to your second point: troubs' hits were legal. I'm not afraid of him being traded to another team, i am quite literally afraid of another similar hitter on an oposing team taking retribution by landing a similarly legal hit on our forwards. I feel like troubs style leads to escalation and thats what worries me. like troubs targeting vulnerable mistakes of oposing forwards is putting a giant target on our own forward's backs.

BUT im a wimp. Always have been, i know this about myself. I dont like contact sports. I will watch football but not closely, i absolutely despise boxing, and even wrestling is pushing it sometimes. My formative years were spent in a karate dojo that emphasized self defence always. I excelled at kata and bunkai, but put me in the sparring ring and i wilt. One of my most distinct memories when i was 13 or 14 and shooting up taller than a weed was being forced to spar with this obnoxious teenage guy a head shorter than me. He had something to prove and landed an illegal punch on my nose. I was so mad i took that kid down with almost full force and then ran to the bathroom and bled all over my pristine white expensive cotton gi and cried like a baby and didnt come out till one of the women senseis sat with me and calmed me down. They never forced me into the sparring ring again after that, lol. what im saying is i dont like fights. If I had my way we would eric-bittle-ify hockey and checking wouldn't be a thing.

BUT with hockey im trying to be more open minded and understand how this fits into the game. And learn to appreciate it in addition to how much i admire the speed, and strategy, and more refined aspects of the game. Some parts i dont think i'll ever understand: like the borderline illegal hits, or the ones that are legal but extremely dangerous like the one that gave the poor penguin defense man a concussion during his first big league game. Now i have not been watching long but i have heard that troubs has hit sid in the past? I dont know anything about it, i dont think i want to. If it happened again? Yeah troubs might end up on my blacklist. But for now he's still the captain of the team, and the team genuinely seems to appreciate troubs very loyal very aggressively defensive phsyical style of play.

But also i mean, trochk picked on geno for like three games straight last season, and i dont think geno was even injured, but ive lowkey hated trochk ever since and have a hard time rooting for trochk as much as the rest of the guys on the team so lol dont hold me to any loyalties.

[cranehusbands]

the sharp end of a dull blade

felix hugo fraldarius/hubert von vestra; canon compliant; white clouds; pre-relationship, realisation of feelings; one-sided(?); no cws. 2791 words

a/n: yippee i did it. after realising im a little sleepy bitch and not wanting to fight my wifi to post, i ended up going from seven fics to four and im saving one of my original plots for edelgard rarepair week at the end of july so. we stay silly. happy fire emblem everybody

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated!

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

“Do you think there is any merit to his incessant exclamations?” 

The question posed to Hubert was one he should have answered quickly as assuredly, as he did with most everything else. This time, however, it had been a query that did not, in fact, register to him as anything more than white noise. Hands behind his back, stood in the shadows of the training grounds as if the sun would burn the flesh from his bones, the mage was enraptured by the scene before him. It was like some wanton war dance, watching two bodies go back and forth in training, at something of a constant near stalemate, though it was clear to most anyone who was winning. The two artists in question were as different from each other as one could conjure; the first was Ferdinand von Aegir, the irritating, annoying pest that he was, hair sticking to his forehead as he grinned through exhaustive breaths. The second, and clearly not struggling as much to keep up with a constant barrage of strength and speed, was Felix Hugo Fraldarius, a future duke from the Kingdom, armed with his sword and a stern expression. For every time Ferdinand launched an attack toward the boy, Felix parried with ease; and every time Felix took advantage of Ferdinand’s momentary weakness, it was a wonder he wasn’t knocked over onto his behind. His eyes narrowed, watching Ferdinand swing to the side at a rather wide angle in some grandiose, but predictable, sweeping motion, giving Felix enough time to jump back before striking just at the base of his opponent’s ribs in a fierce jab, the blow finally strong enough to knock the wind out of Ferdinand’s metaphorical sails, and more literally to the floor, with a loud and rather surprised cry.

The win of their little duel had been decided the moment it had been proposed. While a talented lance man- a compliment Hubert would take to his grave, for he suspected if Ferdinand knew his training was being both observed and praised, no one would hear the end of it- he was simply too far outmatched in this particular duel. Though lithe and of shorter stature, Felix carried strength in all the correct places, his sword an extension of himself and that power rather than some glorified flagpole to wave around. His weapon struck true at every opportunity it could, and remained reigned and close enough to defend himself when there was none. He was a burning flame, patient, powerful and well-trained for now, but he had the capacity to burn brighter, and faster, and wilder still- perhaps, if he were not from Faerghus, he could make a fine addition to the Imperial army- 

“Hubert? Are you listening to me?”

Hubert blinked himself out of his trance, watching as Ferdinand pushed himself to his feet with a gleeful, too-loud laugh, looking to Edelgard stood at his side. The two of them had taken refuge in the shade, together, at the insistence of the future prime minister (“I want the both of you to witness my might and resolve!” he had said, stupidly, with that stupid smile on his face). That was the only reason he had ventured out here at all. 

He gripped onto his wrist behind his back tighter, silently admonishing himself for such a childish display of distraction. “I… apologise, Lady Edelgard.”

The young woman raised an eyebrow up at him, apparently disregarding his shame and simply repeating herself instead. “I was asking about Ferdinand.”

“And what of him?”

“Do you think his claims hold any merit- about his ability to surpass me?”

Hubert ran his tongue alongside the back of his teeth in minor vexation. He knew of what she spoke- after all, it was harder to not hear of such assertions, spoken so assuredly as if they were already true, despite how inexcusable, childish, and overall- incredibly, undeniably wrong they were. But more importantly, he understood her true meaning. They were, after all, so close to seeing their plan to fruition. She wanted to know if this was going to be a threat- if someone such as Ferdinand could undo most everything they had worked hard to achieve. Such a thought could have made him laugh out loud, but Hubert kept himself measured and schooled with ease. “Absolutely not.”

Edelgard hummed, as if this was the answer she expected, looking back out to the training grounds again. “And has anyone else caught your attention?”

The mage paused, glancing down at the floor to consider for a moment. He knew exactly what she meant by such a statement, and had no interest in sabotaging their plans for the future by asking for clarification. Through his bangs, he was slow to meet the slender form of the swordsman he was just observing, cleaning his training blade and trying to pretend his opponent was not there, begging for a rematch. “...Perhaps so.”

The day continued on quickly, soon turning to night. And, just like most other nights, Hubert did not find sleep easy. Years spent watching over his charge, in case the night decided to be cruel to her, in combination with his own afflictions of paranoia, meant that the night was not for rest. It was instead meant for keeping busy, be it in his own experiments or other various machinations not known to his classmates or even his lady whom he served so loyally- dealing with problematic elements that may get in the way of their plans for the future, such as enemies within the school and faculty, or those who simply knew too much, as well as seeking out any possible sympathetic individuals. Edelgard doubted their professor’s loyalty- Hubert needed to make sure to pad out their armies for the oncoming war as much as possible. That was the excuse he used to return to the training grounds, lamenting where his feet had taken him as the moon hung over him like an ever present watcher, full of ire as he stared at the door. Just what was he hoping to find there? A glimpse of that same fire he had seen in the afternoon, flickering and burning just as it was then, now all for himself? Hubert growled to himself as he pushed through the door with both hands-

-And the fire still flickered, just as he had dared to hoped it would.

Felix did not turn to face him as he entered the training grounds, despite the loud groaning of the old doors, continuing with the repetitive swing of the sword he once again held, or perhaps never put down again. He was still in the training grounds by the time Hubert had left with Edelgard and Ferdinand for lunch, already taking a new challenger after all attempts his last one made to gain a rematch had failed (as they had been thoroughly ignored, with admirable decorum), so he did not doubt the boy had remained throughout the afternoon late into the evening, that had swiftly become night.

The mage kept his arms behind his back, watching with mild interest at the strength Felix carried in his movements, how his shoulders moved and strained beneath his uniform with the swiftness of the weapon cutting through the cool midnight air, almost as efficiently as any well trained soldier. He really would make a fine general. If only he was to fight on the right side of history, then such skill would not be put to waste. 

There was a moment or two more, where the wind was cut in two, before the movements stopped and Felix straightened his posture. A sigh left him, annoyed and heavy, before he lowered his sword to turn with a glower, just enough to shoot it in the other man’s direction. “You. What do you want?”

Hubert did not know. He lied anyway. “I came to watch you train. Is that an issue?”

“You watched me enough this afternoon. What more could there possibly be to see?”

Behind his back, he flexed a hand, with a gentle hum of acknowledgement as Felix fully turned to face him, stance defensive (though not fearful, or even apprehensive, as many other students would be, if they were to face the mage this late into the night) and sword still in hand. “There’s no gauge for ‘enough’, with things of this nature.”

“Fighting is not a spectator sport.” He had little patience for most people, and Hubert was not exempt from such a rule. “Either you pick up a weapon and duel me, or you leave.”

There was something of a subtle grimace that passed over the mage’s features, there and gone just as quickly, at such behaviour- though, such inhospitality could hardly be criticised, especially by him, a man whose few conversations began and ended with his devotion and his purpose, but never himself. It wasn't as if he considered Felix’s sentiments to be wrong, either- time was a precious and finite commodity, and needed to be used wisely, whether it be for training for an unspecified purpose or following the whims of a woman meant for greater things. 

Hubert’s eyes moved over to the rack of weapons towards the back, to the sword and axes and lances maintained to perfection. He has not picked up such a martial thing in many years, not since he was a small, stupid and weak boy of barely seven, attempting to try and wield a lance far too big for his tiny, frail form, in some futile attempt to follow a nonsensical pipe dream of becoming a pegasus knight. This, of course, had been before he'd had the sense knocked into him, metaphorically and literally, and the idea that he was anything more than an extension of his lady’s will of change was snuffed out soon after. His attention had been turned to magic after that, and it had served his purposes far better than a weapon of traditional means ever would. Still… even despite himself, he found himself considering it once more, a feeling stirring in him that hadn't been there since he could remember. 

Hubert looked back to Felix, still staring at him expectantly, standing entirely still. “...I am hardly the strong opponent you seek.”

There was a hum of consideration, as the mage was observed again, eyes sweeping up and down, as if evaluating the worth of facing an adversary that wouldn't advance his battle prowess. It was odd to watch, the sweeping of feelings in subtle changes in features, from disinterest to curiosity to want- want, Hubert thought with some bitter amusement- before Felix spoke again. “...I don't care. Now arm yourself, or leave me be.”

He considered the swordsman for a moment, as he turned away once more, assuming the same position as before, as if expecting the door to the training grounds to open and close again. Hubert ground his teeth for a moment, biting down to stop an unnecessary errant comment, still holding onto the feeling that recalling a time before his vassalage, and the feeling of being wanted, if only for a moment, and only for a purpose. He swallowed, pausing for a moment more, before striding past Felix towards the weapon rack, and unsheathing a wooden lance, the weight unfamiliar in his hands. 

And for a moment, he swore he saw the beginnings of a smile on Felix’s face. 

Such joy, however, did not last long. Like Hubert had said, he was not strong with a lance, not experienced in such a field. Though he held the advantage of height over his opponent, it was a factor that hardly mattered at all- Felix just had too much strength and ferocity for Hubert to block and, much like the bout he’d witnessed earlier in the afternoon, his own swings with the lance were too wide and too sloppy, easily being dodged out of the way like passing wind His anger at his own inadequacy only made this problem worse, too, especially with the off-handed comments about his technique that we're spoken so assuredly, as if they were wanted or asked for. If this had been a match between the sword and his magic, perhaps it could have been more evenly matched- a manipulation of Mire, maybe, to make the terrain temporarily difficult, or make movements more sluggish. But even then, the assault was relentless, and the margin for victory was only slightly more open, if the mage was able to use the tools he was more comfortable with. 

Even in the cold air of the evening, he could feel his shirt sticking to the back of his neck from the sweat of exertion. His lungs felt like they were on fire, though not more ablaze than the man in front of him, caught in the rush of the fight as he went for another swing to the side. Hubert barely had time to block with the length of his lance, but by then, it was already too late- the end of the sword jabbed into his ribs, sucking the air out of his lungs as he stumbled backwards, the world around him going white for a moment as he fell backwards.

The lance clattered to the floor, unceremoniously landing a foot or so in front of him as he joined it with a sharp intake of breath, fire shooting up his spine at the pain of his tailbone hitting the dirt. Hubert gritted his teeth into a grimace, before he growled, hair hiding his face in his embarrassment, "This is useless, and a waste of my time.”

“You’re not taking this seriously.”

The mage gave a huff of indignation, as his eyes shot up again in a glare. “Now why, pray tell, would I not be taking this seriously? You were the one who insisted I stayed, and I obliged, in a way I now see was a regrettable decision, so I ask that you don’t speak of this to anyone and-”

His ramblings were cut short by the feeling of the training lance hitting his foot. Hubert glanced up, assuming from posture that Felix had kicked the weapon over to him again.

“…What are you doing?”

“Pick it up.”

“What? No, this is absurd, and pointless. Now if you don’t mind-”

The end of the blade (not sharp, but the formation of the weapon tricked his brain into thinking as much for a second or two) pressed against his throat, just under his chin, bringing the mage to disconcerting silence and stillness. Hubert looked up again at the future duke, amber eyes narrowed in a mix of discontent and curiosity, but most importantly a hunger- to fight or to teach, he could not surmise.

“You aren’t a lost cause, mage. Your lancework needs improvement, but it isn't hopeless. Now pick up your weapon and fight me.”

His throat bobbed in a swallow against the dull point of the training sword, unable to take his eyes off Felix standing over him, barely breaking a sweat from their fight, and a star as cool as steel. If this were a battlefield, if that had been a real sword, Hubert may have delighted in the thrill of having the weapon pressed further into his skin, where blood more than likely would have begun to trickle from a superficial wound, dripping down the lines of his throat and into his shirt. He may even dare to delight in it now, staring up at a face of power and irritation. 

Lady Edelgard needed strong soldiers- powerful soldiers, willing to fight until their dying breath. Felix’s loyalty could not be spoken for, but he was certainly discontented with his position within the Kingdom. If that discontent could be twisted, moulded into something new if the fire could be tamed, it could burn even brighter on new coals. And, perhaps, this was something selfish as well, if Hubert could allow himself that. If he could allow himself a want, to see this wild thing grow into himself and his craft, with the right force at his back to guide his sword. If he could allow himself to want to be that guide, if only to keep the man close to him. If he could allow himself to simply want a man, one as strong and as stubborn and as worthy as the one in front of him, goading him on with naught but a narrowing of his eyes.

Never tearing his gaze away, Hubert reached by his foot, and once more grabbed the lance in a grip tight enough for it to show. If only to watch Felix huff a laugh and pull his sword away to prepare for another round, stoking a fire within himself.

[sosoane1]

I posted 5,334 times in 2022

That's 813 more posts than 2021!

115 posts created (2%)

5,219 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@captainjimothycarter

@crazyplantkatie

@kitsune-35

@falcon-chill

@wedonttradelives

I tagged 2,714 of my posts in 2022

Only 49% of my posts had no tags

#xfiles - 446 posts

#steggy - 89 posts

#doctor who - 80 posts

#mcr - 62 posts

#my chemical romance - 60 posts

#critical role - 52 posts

#wheel of time - 41 posts

#ncis - 36 posts

#moon's midnight post - 35 posts

#peggy carter - 34 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#like thats why i got into xfiles(my current obsession) why im watching buffy why i watched doctor who sherlock missmaisle owl house and more

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Ao3 is down so i cant read my morning fic like I'm a man in the 50's drinking coffee and reading the newspaper:(

9 notes - Posted June 6, 2022

#4

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: The X-Files Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Dana Scully/Melissa Scully Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Melissa Scully Additional Tags: High School, Teen Crush, Scully's favourit study spot just so happens to be where she can stare at mulder, Highschool AU, alternative universe Summary:

It's senior year for Fox Mulder and there are two new students at his school. Melissa and Dana Scully. Will their paths cross? How awkward is it when your newly assigned partner is your high school crush?

Tagging @today-in-fic

9 notes - Posted August 3, 2022

#3

River x Doctor "Can we keep it? Please?" 🥺🦖🦄🦇

Thanks for the Prompt! I had a great time making this! hope you like it.

Jim The Fish | 11 x River | 633w | AO3

The doctor had planned a beautiful date that had yet to turn into a dangerous situation, surprisingly since any time the doctor planned a date, he wouldn’t actually take into account the historical events of said date. A date in 15th century London was an excellent idea just not on the second of September 1666, let’s just say his plans went up into flames.

This time it was on Icoupra, a planet known for its amazing water features, oceans, seas, lake, and ponds. They had set up next to the Colothune pond.

River was wild but she did love those quiets moment when she could just exist with her husband. She longed for a normal life and this was the closest she would ever get. She had started to make an effort to remember the exact look in his eyes when he looked at her.

Those beautiful eyes, so full of love for her. The Doctor was playing on some stones that formed a line across the pond. He looked like a child playing in the water feature. He was being intentionally silly, just to make her smile. And it worked. God she loved him, as infuriation as being in a relationship with an ageless god could be, she loved him with every fiber of her being.

She was lost in her thoughts when she heard a loud ‘splash!’ The doctor was nowhere to be seen. She got up from her resting place and looked into the water as he emerged. 

‘Riv! Look!’ He shouted, drenched, and not minding the peace of algae on his head. He was holding up something that resembled a fish. He quickly approached her, doing his best not to drop the creature.

‘Can we keep it? Please.’ He said making his best puppy dog eyes at her.

‘Sweety, you can’t just take a fish out of a pond and keep it.’ She looked at the poor creature who was clearly struggling. She gently took it from his hands and released it back into the water. The fish gladly swam away, but then returned holding his head out of the water.

‘Thank you, lovely lady. You are much nicer than this vile man.’ Both The Doctor’s and River’s eyes grew wide as the creature spoke. ‘My name is Jim and that was my home that you decided to so carelessly walk on.’ The fish, or Jim, talked with a condescending attitude looking directly at The Doctor. If a fish could look angry, this fish was fuming.

‘Oh, I’m… I’m so sorry.’ The Doctor had seen many strange things, and surprisingly a talking fish was not one of them, or at least not a talking fish that looked like a fish. He looked to River for help with what to do in this situation but she had a great big smile on her face. She was glad that it was someone else who was scolding him for once.

‘He will help you rebuild.’ She offered.

‘That is a kind offer my lady, but I would prefer him anywhere that isn’t remotely close to my pond. You are welcome any time though.’ River was confused, was the fish flirting with her? How was it that a fish was better at flirting than her husband?

She leaned closer to The Doctor and whispered ‘I think we should head back, I’m sure we can find something else to do to occupy ourselves.’ Taking the peace of algea that was still on his head and flicked it away. The Doctor shivered at her words.

They promised Jim that they would pay for the damages and promptly packed up and headed back to the TARDIS. 

Once inside, they both bursted out laughing at the absurdity of the event. A talking fish! Who would have thought!

10 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

#2

I want Fox to be my dad

@100wednesday | TXF | Emily Sim | 100 Words | AO3

‘‘Mom? Do I have a dad?’’

‘‘No darling.’’

‘‘But I want Fox to be my dad. Can he be my dad?’’

Scully smiled at the question, she wanted nothing more than for her two favourite people to share this bond.

‘‘I think you should ask him that darling.’’

Emily turned on her seat at the kitchen table to face Mulder.

‘‘Can you be my dad?’’

He looked at Scully waiting for her approval. When she nodded he could have sworn his heart grew.

It would be the greatest honour Pumpkin.’

And that night, they were now finally a real family.

11 notes - Posted September 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I enjoy making music quiz. Would anyone do a galavant music quiz if i made one or i shouldn't bother?

50 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dissociativedoe]

okay can you guys seriously leave mentally ill people alone? like, for real?

i cannot tell you the number of times ive seen an anonymous person go into someone's inbox and say some shit like "hey so you said you have bpd and i dont have anything against people with bpd but my ex had bpd and constantly manipulated and emotionally abused me, am i valid for hating her?" like. good fucking god.

first of all, random tumblr users are NOT your therapists. you shouldnt be going into ANYONE'S inbox and traumadumping without permission, regardless of who they are or what you're asking them.

second, seriously? like..... seriously? you think that's okay?

imagine going into a queer person's inbox like "hey so you said you're queer and i dont have anything against queer people but i was bullied by a gay person in high school so is it valid if i hate them? nothing against queer people btw i just have bad associations <3" like WHY are you making that somebody else's problem.

i dont care if your abusive ex had bpd, i dont care if your abusive father had npd, i dont care if your shitty ex friend had aspd. you do NOT get to traumadump that onto another mentally ill person who is NOT YOUR FUCKING THERAPIST. how on earth do you think that is okay. it does not matter what your ex with bpd did to you, you do not get to make that another person with bpd's problem.

quit further pushing the idea that ALL people with x disorder are abusive. we are already mistreated enough just for having stigmatized disorders, we do not have to deal with the additional pressure of having to reassure YOU that not all people with x disorder are bad. take that up with a therapist or with someone who has GIVEN YOU PERMISSION to vent to them about it. do not bring that shit into a random stranger's inbox.

like. im sorry you went through that, and it sucks, but the way that you people feel like mentally ill people are obligated to be your teachers or your therapists is ridiculous. we aren't here to make you feel better about yourselves. please, leave us alone.

this is free to reblog but do not use this post to traumadump about how someone with x disorder hurt you and how you use that as an excuse to hold a bias against mentally ill people, i don't wanna hear it.

[ ID: A blue banner that reads, "People without stigmatized disorders do NOT clown on this post." On either end is a clown emoji with a red X over it. End ID. ]

[heartofholland]

tom recs <3

hi guys! here is a fic rec list i made of all the fics i’ve loved. personally, i consider myself an avid fic reader so i have read a shit ton of fics. these are just my highlights. let me know if you want more like this! and if you do end up reading any of these please make sure you REBLOG them to spread the goodness. these writers work their ass off and deserve all the credit in the world. enjoy! <3

SERIES

riding my by @worldoftom this fic is barely started but i love everything this writer puts out. very smutty, very hot. innocence kink check!

breaking curfew by @wazzupmrstark ASSHOLE TOM! my weakness. enemies to lovers but make it FWB. what I wish my summer camp was like instead of my thighs sticking to chairs and lice outbreaks.

eighteen by @angelic-holland corruption/innocence kink! basically all smut but damn do i want bad boy tom.

the situationship by @fairytelling can’t say enough about this fic. the definition of falling in love with your best friend. if my relationship isn’t like this i don’t want it.

happiness is a butterfly by @blissfulparker soft mob!tom and they’re forbidden soulmates! updates are WELL worth the wait!

i only feel you by @stuckonspidey the first time i read my watch thought i was working out for how high my heart rate was. shit keeps you on your toes. there is a sequel fic but just a heads up you will want to unstan tom on multiple occasions.

make me love you by @mrs-hollandstan frat boy player tom turned soft. mans does a whole 180. fuck dom.

perfidy by @peeterparkr couldn’t be more obsessed with this fic. they’re both so fucking stupid but too afraid to get hurt. also the social media posts are so fucking cute and crucial to the story 

eloped by @worldoftom getting married to tom in the most beautiful vacation spot? sign me the fuck up

you. by @txmhoelland i think there’s definely worse men to be set up with as a PR stunt.

erotas by @farfromparker i have definely read this fic for more days than i’ve been on this earth but every time i lose my goddamn mind

dare you to move by @starksparker-archive the best version of FWB tom is when you’re his roommate…

gone by @dahliaspidey this one… hurts. but i just know it will bounce back.

take me out by @angelic-holland warning this one is really dark. like serial killers. but it was so fascinating i am completely obsessed with the psychology of it all. jake is featured and please don’t imagine the mr. music the entire time like i did </3

single all the way by @heyhihellowhatsup0 i read this whenever i need a lil christmas pick me up

sweetener by @keepingupwiththeparkers cute awkward relationship. it is so real i feel like it could actually happen to me.

ex on the beach by @heyhihellowhatsup0 THE ANGST GIVES ME LIFE

SMUT

bartender by @t-o-m-holland tom happens to own your favorite bar. your subtle flirts aren’t working. the banter between reader and the fam makes me wish i didn't have social anxiety.

siren by @rosyparkers don’t get me wrong i will scream ACAB til the day i die but police officer tom could definitely get it.

best of three by @mrs-hollandstan one of the 3000 threesome fics i have saved. imagine not getting one of the hottest men but TWO.

roommates by @hollandbaby what a coincidence we both want to fuck each other! this checks all the kinks my man. i’ve read this probably no less than 100 times.  

that was that by @moorehollandplz dom!tom but something flips and he’s never been more gentle. mans got both sides of the playing field covered.

know your enemy by @angelic-holland short but sweet. hate sex is always hotter behind the scenes.

wasabi by @angelic-holland literally everything about alice is phenomenal but this is on of my faves. when i read this it makes me feel smarter. also body shots.

say good night by @madmadmilk this writers work never fails to blow me away but this time she managed to encapsulate my entire life. (minus the execution with a very hot and experienced best friend).

buwygf-ib by @hholyholland just ignore tomdaya for a sec and take in the hottest dom!tom i’ve ever witnessed.

cocky by @sykoxartist yeah he’s an asshole but he’s your asshole. at least that’s what he thinks.

sovereign by @farfromparker sub!tom is so hot. man will beg for DAYS.

summer vacation by @kidney9-9  when is hate sex ever like…. not hot as fuck?

ride by @tomhollandsstan face riding. period.

coincidence by @starshinebucky actor!reader and tom fuck… at least they’ll have good chemistry next time.

skin by @hollandbaby dom!tom is not ok with being a sub. unless it’s for you.

you can bet on it by @kiwi-bitchez all of this writers smut makes my pussy throb. this is my fave. just wait for the twist.

a rose blooms by @cornacopicimagines prince!tom drives me wild. but wait til he finds out you’re not a virgin.

begging by @raewritesfiction tom makes you beg for it.

self reflection by @stuckonspidey this is actual proof tom has a praise kink.

minor inconvenience by @angel-spidey toms an idiot but at least he can get you off.

flesh by @starshinebucky cocky tom kills me.

keeping him nice and warm by @marvelouspeterparker mob!tom the gif itself to sends me.

after hours by @cornacopicimagines never had sexual tension with a teacher but this will do.

ANGST

josslyn by @multiharlot messy situation but reader handles it like a champ. if your heart isn’t broken enough, the last line will make sure it’s unfixable for days on end.  

moral of the story by @kelieah listen to the song while you’re at it to make your cry sesh take a turn for the worst. 

cherry by @xoluvx this one hurts real bad. so does the song. 

a complicated love story by @samhollandssweaters an emotional rollercoaster for real.

he dies in the end by @allfandomxreader ignore the title and just cry your eyes out with me.

eighteen by @fancyxholland you’ll be confused why it’s in the angst category but trust me.

all the lies by @peteywillproceed getting cheated on but the girl is toms gf, how do you tell him. 

memories by @nycparkers i sob to this whenever i need a good cry. 

don’t be a fool by @nycparkers breakups that dont end messily make me so fucking jealous.

FLUFF

kiss currency by @madmadmilk borderline smut. confused and oblivious harrison. dialogue inspires me to talk to males.  

plank all over me by @waitimcomingtoo FILRTY TOM! THE BANTER! i really am a whore for well written dialogue. there’s additional parts but i won’t spoil.

 playing cupid by @marvelobsessedteenager you set everyone else up but wait a damn minute how did you forget about tom?

 little flirt by @webslinger-holland oh to flirt with tom while he’s sweaty from intensely dancing for the lip sync battle.

pour it out by @rhapsodyparker i don’t know what it is but famous!reader going on talk shows or having interviews and they ask the reader cheeky questions about tom might be one of my many kinks…

hubby by @t-holland2080 it’s the small things that make me want to bawl my eyes out for being so lonely.

going live by @redrebecca the dialogue makes me cry of happiness! tom doing a live (what a concept).

paddy’s crush by @tom-holland-is-spiderman jealous tom but of his younger brother.

 wannabe by @sailingintothenight the cliffhanger at the end demands a second part.

flawless by @missnxthingg  tom is a simp.

you and me by @sunshinehollandd best friend tom makes me soft.

dick appointments. web shooters. the duality of a man. by @porterporker  it gets a lil steamy but man is “web shooter” a funny name for a dick.

best day by @thollandss dad!tom gives me baby fever even though i am a virg.

 tom asks your dad by @blissfulparker can i just skip through the bad boyfriends and just marry the love of my life already.

baked chicken by @waitimcomingtoo there isn’t a category for awkward but if there was this would be in it.

lover boy by @starshinebucky  tom being so oblivious you like him that you need to call for backup.

afterglow by @wickedholland i wish someone would treat me like this when im drunk instead of leaving me to hold my own hair back.

[wikibutch]

Hello WikiButch,

Recently, I have been avidly following your page. For the most part, I have loved it. However, at some times, I have also hated it severely. Here are a few things I think could change for the better, from someone who enjoys seeing your updates and thoughts:

Your blog has a very boring theme. While I love purple, dusty purple colors are highly overrated, and I think your blog could use a new theme to spice it up. To find new themes, I would recommend going into the #themes tag and picking one that suits you. That's how I found mine!

There are many text posts on your blog. While I understand it's nice to have your words heard by others, I would recommend you be more mindful of your followers who cannot read. As such, with every text post I would recommend you post an image to contextualize your words. This way, your blog would read similarly to a picture book.

You seem to love reblogging art. As much as it is sometimes interesting and intriguing to see, it also starts to hurt my eyes after looking for too long. There tends to be many colors, and as much as I am a fan of colors, colors can also be the cause of blindness, nearsightedness, farsightedness, fatigue, anxiety, and in extreme cases, death (traffic accidents from traffic lights). For this, I would like to see it toned down. Perhaps you could include a filter over your blog that blocks harmful UV rays?

In addition to the harmful colors, as I scrolled through your blog I saw an incredibly scary image of the devil. I am not a fan of the devil and in fact am an avid hater (Christian) of him. Please be wary, as posting and reposting images of him will affect your future.

There is one person I see a lot who looks strange. His name is Gerard Way, and whenever I see him I am forced to do a double take. Sometimes he wears strange clothes, like nurse outfits and babushka headscarves. I personally do not agree with this; the nurse outfit is one of great importance and should not be casually disrespected. What relevance does this person hold to your heart? Please get back ASAP on this matter.

I see a lot of things about lesbians, especially butch lesbians. While I am an ally to lesbians of all kinds, I was once injured greatly in a car accident in which my friend's mom hit me with her car. She apparently hit me because my friend's mom's mom was a lesbian, and she was lost in thought as she hit the gas. Because of this, seeing lesbians often can revive harmful memories of being flooed. As the world's second worst lesbian, I am curious if you know anything about the incident.

I was told once that you live in a city that begins with D and ends with T. I am an enormous fan of your blog, and would thus recommend leaving the city. Within the next year, I predict a terrorist named Maddy will strike, and all Asian citizens of that city will have to flee anyway.

You seem to be a fan of the famous video game DeltaRune. As someone who works on the DeltaRune team, and thus had a character based off of me implemented, I would recommend you stop following the development of DeltaRune, as the next chapter explores the cast's reaction to the death of the Queen.

You will regret not finishing the game Disco Elysium. In about a week, they will remove all copies of the game from everyone's hard drives, and the only way to see the endings is on YouTube.

Sometime, I worry you know too much. I sit in the back of my car, hiding from the police, and I open my phone. I look at your blog, and with tears in my eyes, I see "2 year old im babysitting refuses to go to bed until she watches i love lucy". I do not know if you realize this, but Lucy was the name of my late wife. Please never say that name again.

These are the ten commandments I propose to you. I hope to see change for the better instead of for the worse. Please think carefully after reading this; these words are pulled from the deepest depths of my heart, and will determine the course of your future.

Accordingly, a fan.

‎

‎‎‎

look behing you . that's me

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

DAY 17. SEDUCING THE OTHER.

A CHALLENGE WITH JAVIER PEÑA.

NARCOS ┃ USEFUL LINKS.

❝ words: about 1.3k.

❝ warnings: nsfw, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, mention of bodily fluids, language.

❝ a / n: don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it, i’d really appreciate it!

Today is your first anniversary and you don't need to be a genius to know that Javi has forgotten. He has too much to worry about in his job and you're not going to blame him; you have bought yourself a present from him. A black set of lingerie with transparencies that leave a little to the imagination. After decorating the living room with some fruity scented candles and putting on his favorite red lipstick, you wear his DEA's t-shirt —the one he hates the most but you don't understand why he keeps it.

At least he's on time when dinner is ready.

Carrying his jacket in his hand, he walks in closing the door behind his back, frowning as soon as he notices the piece of clothing covering your body. Wrinkling his nose disgusted and upping a side of his mustache, he shakes his head.

“Quítate eso”. He simply demands, crossing both arms on his chest.

(Take that off).

“¿Por qué? A mí me gusta…”

(Why? I like this one).

“Porque tú eres mía, no de la DEA”.

(Because you're mine, not DEA's).

You shrug your shoulder raising the gems of the t-shirt to remove it over your head and let it hang from your index finger for a second, until letting it fall to the floor. Just like Javi's jaw dropping and his jacket slipping off. Then, he notices the candles, the smell… But his eyes can't fly away from your body, licking slowly his bottom lip. Horny, but starting to panic.

“¿Qué estamos cel— fuck”.

(What are we celebra— fuck).

Javi starts to babble nonsense, trying to excuse himself, trying to apologize, trying to say something. Until you shut him up with a soft move of your left hand. He looks at you like a beaten puppy, taking a couple of steps closer with his hands kept in the back pocket of his jeans, finding some calm when he sees you smirking provocatively.

“¿Te gusta lo que mi novio me ha comprado, ah?” You say turning around with both arms raised at the sides of your torso, so he can have a better view.

(Do you like what my boyfriend has bought me?)

“Tiene buen gusto, sí”. He whispers fascinated, having to clear his throat seeing you more closer.

(Has good taste, yeah).

Embracing you against himself, you cup his cheeks onto your palms leaning on your tiptoes to peck his lips with so much tender, calmly, with no rush. His hands land on your ass, not losing time on squeezing it while grunting very pleased when you urge him to walk backward to the sofa. His fingers don't loose the grip on your skin whilst taking a seat, reclining against it and getting comfier. You slide down through your shoulders the strips of the bralette before taking it off and throwing it somewhere.

Javi can't stop looking at you, enraptured by any move you make, heavily gulping a knot of saliva when you kneel between his legs without being asked for. You have been craving him all day since you woke up alone much to your regret, but now, he's all yours. And you're going to take advantage. Your fingers are quick undoing his belt, the metallic button and the zip, gasping inevitably when he arches his back to help you, and his hard dick springs free as soon as his clothes roll down to his ankles.

Wrapping your hand around his length, you take an ephemeral lick from his glans, tasting the salty precum covering it. Usually, you like to play with him, and Javier loves to play with you, but Steve has called you again to tell you it hasn't been a good day either. You're already used. You know pretty well how to take care of Javi. And this time, you don't tease him, swallowing his most sensible skin until your mouth is completely filled, pushing the limits of your throat. Your boyfriend can't help but loudly moan, closing his eyes as he places his hands on the back of his neck. Until he's forced to tangle them in your head when the gag you produce makes his cock vibrate deliciously.

“Oh, fuck, cariño”. He growls tossing his head back, spreading his legs a little more, not being able to speak in Spanish as his mind is focused only on your touches.

You bob your mouth up and down, circling it around his most sensitive skin, as your tongue licks all his size as if it's the succulent food you have ever tried. You mark the rhythm, sometimes quicker when he's relaxed, sometimes slowlier when he's eager. And yes, you could kill him just like that —sucking off his soul and squeezing his balls when you force your throat and offer him another gag.

His vocals soon become louder, conscious that Javi is so close to cum, watching him maintain your gaze with his darkened lustful eyes and biting his lips, trying to control himself. Trying to last a few minutes more.

“Fuck, basta…” He begs pulling your hair back when he's at the edge.

(Fuck, enough).

Your boyfriend helps you to stand up, to push you onto his lap. He needs more. He always needs more from you. Pretending to take off the only piece of clothing that covers his favorite part of your body, Javier stops you.

“Déjalo”. He just says.

(Leave it).

Putting it aside, he tours your soaked entry with his fingertips. Your arousal wet his digits, bringing them to his mouth to taste you. He loses his ass for you —sucking them clean before colliding his lips with yours. Now, the two of you can taste your juices mixed in your saliva. The filthy kiss that is broken when, directing his glans to your cunt, you just simply let yourself fall over it, digging his hardness deeper than you two could expect.

You grip the back of his head while Javier nails his hands in your hips. He urges you, forces you to rock them, to bounce on his cock. You're desperate for feeling him, dancing your body keened, anxious at the moment his teeth and his lips meet your nipples. Kissing, biting, sucking, pulling them. He tortures you with a sweet pain that makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head.

Increasing the pace as you arch your torso, you find a new weak spot, hitting your g-spot with every bounce. Javi feels it too, he can feel the same pleasure reclining against the sofa and enjoying the view of your breast jumping every time you impale yourself with his cock. He could die right now happier and satisfied than ever in his life, with the addition of the soft fabric of your panties rubbing his length in every move.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby”. He gasps with a very marked Texas accent, closing his eyelids.

“Yeah?” You mumble leaning forward and placing your hands on his shoulders to press your lips on his. “C'mon… cum inside me, mi flaco”.

The pounds to your soaked pussy are insane, just like the kiss he gives you —hungry of your mouth, obscene, dirty. Javier doesn't need anything else to explode, drinking and swallowing the animal grunt that escapes his throat, as he forces you down to push his dick to your guts making you find your orgasm too.

You both are breathless, but that doesn't stop you from fighting his tongue with yours as the pleasure continues shaking your bodies.

“Feliz aniversario”. Panting, he brushes your lips with his, wrapping his arms on your middle back to hold you closer. “Lo siento que me olvidé…”

(Happy anniversary. I'm sorry I forgot it).

“Está bien…” You whisper spreading sloppy and exhausted kisses all around his face. “No estoy enfadada”.

(It's okay. I'm not mad at you).

“Te voy a compensar, lo prometo, mi amor”.

(I'll compensate you, I promise, my love).

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NARCOS: @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @diogodxlot @danniburgh @velia27 @catcher11 @pedritobalmando @mys2425 @tanyaherondale @kalimont83 @scullys-alienpussy @acourtofsnakes @pascalesque @encounterthepast @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @gemini0410 @nikkixostan @lozaa94 @arveeee @thoughtfulpandelwasteland @cjbtw @goldielocks2004 @aurelie-celine @spideysimpossiblegirl @agirllovespancakes @kingpascals @im-an-adult-ish

[loviatars]

The Highwayman - Part Two

pairing: astarion x female npc (reader, not the mc!) warnings: references to abuse and torture rating: teen for the above reasons, for now <3 word count: 1,632 notes: we’re back bc this has been fun to write!! if you like it, consider reblogging and/or leaving me some notes in said reblogs xx part one. ao3.

There are some that take pleasure in the distress of another, often with a special glee if they think the other has done wrong. But who in the world hasn’t done wrong, you think as you try to maintain an expression that appears interested in what’s being said. It turns out the Gur can talk for quite a while.

It seems his delight with Astarion’s suffering has to do with the fact that he is not a fellow mortal. You’d like to think you’d be ashamed if you felt any way similar.

But he has no shame at all, it seems. Though his version of events is also part-lie, he claims vaguely to be a hunter as well-- and Astarion a prize. While you have no doubt in the verity of both statements, there’s something missing.

You’ve been sitting on a barstool so long your back’s aching. And were it a quicker-paced evening you might be forced to your feet, pouring drinks for the weary on their way to the city. But Gandrel the hunter is the only man still upright, in a manner of speaking. He’s deep in his cups and hasn’t asked for another glass of wine.

“Haven’t I seen you before somewhere,” he asks. And as if he seems to realize the foolishness of that, adds, “Briefly, of course.”

“I don’t think we’ve met, sir, no,” you begin. It isn’t always like this, most types that pass through the Dying Gull hardly notice you. They’re too busy looking at the flagon you set down in front of them.

But it seems Gandrel is smart, even when drunk. And that unnerves you.

“Forgive my asking,” he goes on, “but I think it may’ve been on a wanted poster in Baldur’s Gate.”

Clever enough to remember a face, but not bright enough to say nothing. You scoff, letting your eyes fall to the tops of your boots.

“I meant no offense, you understand,” he says, trying to salvage the interest of a pretty woman. “In fairness, I may be wrong. I couldn’t recall what the poster was for--”

“No, you’re right about where you likely know me from,” you admit. “My face was all over the city for a time.”

“Do you mind if I asked what happened, seeing as I’ve told you stories of my own?” he says. You bite your tongue to keep from telling him that you asked in order to steal from him.

“I was put on trial for theft’n murder, which I did not commit” you say, “course I ran, as any girl’d do.”

“We’ve all been scared,” he says, staring blankly at you. You nod.

“Right. Can I trust you not to say nothin’ when you get back with your quarry?” you ask in turn. “I mean, you are a hunter after all.”

“Not in the way you’d think,” he replies. “My quarry, as you put it, tends to be the bloodthirsty and monstrous kind. And I mean that literally.”

“You’re a monster hunter,” you confirm. He nods. “And the man in the wagon?”

“Not a man,” he corrects, you try not to bristle. “Vampire spawn.”

“Oh, my,” you feign a gasp. But he’s too drunk to notice. “I wonder what he’s done to earn such a fate.”

“I have no idea, it didn’t seem my place to ask,” Gandrel laughs in a way that makes you uncomfortable, “But I suppose its existence could be damning enough.”

“Right,” you reply. “That’s why you haven’t fed him?”

“Would be irresponsible, I thought,” he says. “Doubt it could die again.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” you admit.

He looks at you like you’re pitiable and soft-hearted. Like you’re still a lass on a wanted poster, wrongfully accused. You stare at him back with glassy sweetness, and he is foolish enough to mistake it for sincere.

Gandrel asks for another drink, then. And, dutifully as it is your job, you provide him with one. Though coherent enough to sniff out the gossip up until that point, this last glass makes him slump over the bar.

It’s just as well, you’ve had enough of his mismatched empathy. 

Plucking the obvious loop of keys from his belt as he snores over the bar is like taking sweets from a child. But without the obvious guilt, of course. Stealing freedom from a bad man is one of the nobler things you’ve done, after all.

You sincerely doubt him to be exemplary of anything other than cruelty, though he was right when he insisted to you that not all Gur were awful despite popular opinion. He, unfortunately, happens to be. You leave the Dying Gull with a sneer on your mouth and let the door shut quietly behind you.

Out in the cold night, you wish you’d brought your shawl. Skin turns to ice this close to winter, and you’re almost worried about Astarion as you near the wagon before you remember what he is. 

The canvas drape is still tugged out of the way, letting in lamplight and long shadows. Fear lurches in your heart when you don’t immediately see him huddled in the cage.

“Astarion?” you whisper.

“You’re late,” his reedy voice mumbles back. You hear a shifting, a creaking and a sound like bones being dragged. He pulls himself into the light at the gap in the canvas. “You said an hour, at the very least it has been two.”

“As if you’re any good with time of day,” you scoff. But with more triumph than even you expect, you hold up the ring of keys. 

Their merry jangle seems to shock him out of his joyless ribbing. His eyes, blood-red and glassy with hunger seem to sharpen in the half-light. He sits forward a little bit, though without the energy given to him by anger he lacks the strength to fly at the bars.

“You have them,” he says like he can’t believe it. “I thought for sure you’d be caught by that grubby little--” he cuts himself off when he sees your expression shift to something unamused. “He happens to be annoyingly wise.”

“Though a bit of an idiot at the same moment,” you add. To your surprise, Astarion smirks.

“Are you waiting for me to waste away to nothing?” he asks, his jovial tone now includes a sharpness. But whether it is fear or anger is anyone’s guess.

“My apologies,” you huff, choosing not to start an argument. You walk back around the cage and take hold of the lock. Astarion inches towards where the door will swing open.

It gives a satisfying click, feeling heavy in your hand when you tug it out of the loops. Pulling the door aside, you stand out of the way.

Though you offer your hand to help, Astarion does not take it as he crawls for the entrance. He stands for the first time in three days and nearly buckles upon doing so. His knees ache from sitting with his back hunched, and his eyes from straining in the dark for so long.

You jump forward, quick enough to wrap an arm about his waist and keep him standing. But before he can lash out, curl or coil away from you as he does-- Astarion notices you are not touching him any more. He’s been propped up against the cage, silver feeling uncomfortably warm with only a frayed doublet between it and his skin.

He decided he didn’t want your help. You only caught him to keep him from splitting his skull open. He gives a quick nod, not in gratitude or thanks. But it’s in acknowledgement, at least.

“You mentioned cattle?” he asks, trying to sound casual and crossing his arms over his chest. Keeping in a laugh is a struggle, but you manage it.

“Be patient while I lock up the cage. I think it best to make it look as if you’re still inside of it,” you rationalize. Astarion rolls his eyes.

“If I had it my way, I’d be strong enough to lock him in there,” he spits. “And to see how he enjoys himself.”

“Yes, and then you’d spurr the horse until it carried him to some other place with people less likely to forgive vampire spawn,” you reply. You don’t fumble with the lock in the least, sliding it back in its place and readying its key.

“I meant that he would be dead,” Astarion mutters. “In addition to being caged.”

“So did I,” you reply. You look back at him with a firm look. “Best that he be kept alive for now. No use murderin’ where it isn’t needed.”

“I don’t have much of a say, I suppose,” he admits. It’s true, he can barely stand. And cows blood will only give him strength enough to run now that his energy’s failed him, “Lead on.”

“Give me just another moment,” you say. “There’s two keys on this ring.”

“And?” he sighs. You’re already walking around the wagon, and though you don’t see him lean his head back against the silver bars-- you hear him hiss when his skin makes contact.

You smirk, tempted to ignore him.

“Odds are it’s not a key to a house, seein’ as he’s a proud wanderin’-type,” you say. 

You crawl up in the wagon and begin to feel over the rough wood. Your fingers brush over a keyhole discreetly placed perpendicular to the seat. A hidden compartment lies under it.

“What are you doing?” Astarion asks more directly, following you around the other side of the wagon and leaning when necessary.

You’re on your knees in the footrest, but you lift your head as a lock clicks open a second time that night.

“I said we couldn’t kill ‘im,” you repeat. “Never said we couldn’t rob ‘im blind.”

[meetthemoosemonster]

*Enderman noises*

Hey yall, I wrote a Ranboo fanfic and thought I’d post the link on here so its with all the other things that I write and show random people on the internet!

*Enderman noises* (1918 words) by nika_write_snow Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF) Characters: Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) Additional Tags: Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dadza, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Panic Attacks Summary:

Ranboo finds out he has one of Tommys disks, Philza notices the ruined property value and parents the scared enderboy.

"here is the ao3 link, tell me if it doesnt work or something.

Summary:

Ranboo finds out he has one of Tommys disks, Philza notices the ruined property value and parents the scared enderboy.

Or

What I wished happened after Ranboo found the disk, with Dadza because I have Parent Issues (yup, its not just one of them, hahahahahahahahaha)

Characters:

Ranboo

Philza

Content Warnings:

Panic attacks Mild injury That's all I think, but if I missed one please tell me so I can fix it!

Under the cut is the full work, remember, Reblogs fuel the writing braincell!

Purple particles buzzed around Ranboo, his body also vibrating as his breath sped up and his brain grew foggy. This happens sometimes, when things got really bad, and Ranboos memory really started to slip, or he was just straight up panicking. The half enderman boy was sat shaking in front of an open chest surrounded by dug up dirt and soft looking snowflakes that bit at Ranboos skin. He was staring blankly at the green disk in the chest, making vwoops and crackly noises each time the reality of his situation hit him. The enderman hybrid shook his head, making more aggressive enderman noises for a second, then tried to take a deep breath.

‘You're ok, You're ok. Dream isn't here right now. Dream can’t-’

‘I have cat. I have one of Tommys discs. I have one of THE DISCS. Dream gave ME one of THE DISCS? Why? Why would Dream do that? Why would he trust me with something that gave him so much control over Tommy? What did I do?’

‘You didn't do anything, you would have written it down in your memory book,  you would’ve, wouldn't you?’

‘Would I? I didn't write down that I blew up the community house, but I definitely did that, right? I mean, I had that tnt, it must have been me. I just didn't write it down cause I didn't want to remember. What else am I forgetting? What else did I do that was so bad that I didn't even write it down? What else did I want to forget about? What else-’

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

Philza was looking through chests looking for glass. The honey farm had broken again, and he needed bottles to fix it.

“This chest system is still scuffed from Tommy, that gremlin child really doesn't know organization does he.” Phil shook his wings in exasperation. He was still looking for the glass when he heard the sounds of an upset enderman. Confused why Edward was so riled up, Phil looked over at the enderman sat awkwardly in a boat, the mobs limbs too long to fit inside. Phil only got more concerned when he saw that Edward was only making small, concerned vwoops after the more aggressive noises, head was turned to look out the window towards Ranboos shack. 

Phil followed the endermans gaze to look at Ranboos shack through the window and sucked in a breath. What used to be a snowy lawn in front of Ranboos makeshift base was now a big hole of messily dug up dirt. Phil could see Ranboos figure, looking eerily small for his actual towering height, hunched over in front of a small chest, a shovel shimmering on the ground next to him. But what concerned Phil the most were the enderman noises coming from the area. Phil had heard Ranboo make some enderman noises before when he talked to Edward, and a couple in passing to himself, he'd never seen such loud scared crackles and vibrating noises from him before.  Another small worried vwoop from Edward grounded Phil enough to realize that this kid probably needed help. Phil grabbed his coat and wrapped it awkwardly around his wings before he rushed out the door and headed to where Ranboo was. 

As Phil approached, he could clearly see the cloud of purple particles around Ranboo, who appeared to be shaking, no, vibrating. His suit was wet from the melted snow, and plastered to his body, and Phil flinched remembering how much water could hurt enderman. His hair was also soaking, the white and black strands dripping. There was an indent where his crown would usually be, but Phil could see the red and green jewel encrusted golden band a couple blocks away, in one of the deeper areas of the damage. Phils footsteps slowed the closer he got to the dug up lawn, trying not to scare the kid with heavy footsteps on snow. 

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

Ranboo was trying to breath. ‘In, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in- Does it even matter?’ He understood better now why he might have wanted to forget. It would be easier to not remember the chest or its contents, ‘Traitor’, Dreams voice in his head, his panic room. But the thought of forgetting and then finding out what he'd done when his friends, ‘Are they my friends?’, found out what he had done filled his body with terror and caused his eyes to well up with tears. It felt familiar. ‘Why does it feel familiar?’ The air around Ranboo felt like it was vibrating with the enderman hybrid and the particles that circled around him, and the glitchy noises started getting louder.

‘Stop thinking, stop, STOP, STOP THINKING.’ Ranboo let out the enderman equivalent of a scream, and then winced as he felt tears fall down the sides of his face, leaving burning trails of pain.

“Hey, Mate, you okay?” Ranboo jolted at Phils soft voice, a small surprised vwoop coming out. 

“Oh, Oh, um, yeah” Ranboo said quickly, hastily trying to close the chest in front of him, but accidentally slamming the lid on his thumb as his shaky hands fumbled with it. “Im fine, I was just uh…..” He trailed off, not having a good explanation for the mess that he made other than the truth. And he couldn't tell Phil that. ‘But you can! You should, so you stop betraying everyone.’

“Mhm…” Phil hummed skeptically as he looked at the chaos, but decided not to press. He looked back at Ranboo, who was shakily trying to stand up, but then had to sit back down, his body too exhausted and painful. Ranboo looked up for a second, locking eyes with the winged man standing cautiously in front of him. He realized his mistake too late, and was too exhausted to stop the instinctual reaction. He felt his jaw fall and the air begin to buzz intensely all over again. He felt defensive beyond reason, like he always did when he lost control while making eye contact. Luckily, Phil noticed Ranboo tense up and saw his jaw fall, showing off purple glowing teeth like spikes and looked down, breaking eye contact. His gaze found the black and white mask Ranboo usually had covering his mouth was on the ground next to them, soaked and abandoned.

“How about you come into Technos house with me so we can get you dried up, Ok?” Phil was still looking at the ground, and couldn't see if Ranboo was calmer now, but he felt the buzzing particles in the air fade significantly at his quiet words. Phil dared to glance back at the soaking white and black kid, and relaxed when he saw Ranboo was also looking down, more out of exhaustion than anything, but definitely more calm now. His jaw was back where it usually was, and he was no longer vibrating intensely. 

“Ok, here, let me pick up your crown and mask, and then we can head back to the house.” When he had put the 2 items away he held out his hand to Ranboo who took it carefully, almost as if he was afraid it would be snatched back. But it wasn't, and Phil helped Ranboo stand up, and started to lead the boy through the snow, leaving the chest behind them. Ranboo leaned against the significantly shorter man next to him, stumbling through the snow, his brain foggy from the pain and fear. Philza felt him shaking slightly, and nearly pulled away, worried that the enderman hybrid was panicking again. Almost immediately he realized that Ranboo was just shivering from the cold, being in a soaking wet suit surrounded by snow was going to make nearly anyone freezing cold, Enderman hybrids being no exception. Phil freed one of his wings from his coat and wrapped it around the kid to warm him up, not caring that he would have to deal with wet feathers later.

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

When they reached the house Phil got Ranboo a spare bed, which the boy flopped gratefully down on. Phil chuckled quietly for a second before grabbing a set of antarctic empire style clothes and placing them on the bed.

“Don’t go to sleep yet mate, you need to change out of those wet clothes so you don't hurt yourself anymore.” Ranboo slowly nodded as he sat back up and ran his shivering hands over the soft material of the clothes. Phil started towards the stairs, then looked back for a second.

“I'll be right back with something warm for you to drink so you can warm up quicker, and a health pot or 2 so we can take care of the water damage. Once you're done with that you can sleep, Ok?” Ranboo mumbled something that Phil took as an agreement, and headed the stairs.

Ranboo changed into the fuzzy clothes as quick as his shivering, tired body would let him, too tired to question why the clothes fit him perfectly despite the fact that he towered over Phil, Techno, and Tommy too. He sat back down before his legs could give out again and sighed, feeling himself getting warmer. 

His eyes were beginning to fall closed when he heard Phils foot footsteps and looked over to Philza, who was holding a steaming mug in one hand, and a health potion in the other. He also had a towel draped over his arm. Phil handed the enderman hybrid the health potion first, which he drank quickly, and then the towel. Ranboo just wrapped it around his head, too tired to put anymore effort into drying his hair. The bed shifted slightly as Phil sat down on the bed, maneuvering his wings around so he could give Ranboo space. Ranboo took the mug of what he could now tell was hot chocolate and began to take small, experimental sips. 

After a bit he pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned against Phils body, still taking small sips of his drink. Phil smiled at the boy and slowly wrapped his wings around them both, hoping it would help warm up Ranboo faster. When the enderman hybrid was done with his drink he closed his eyes and let his head rest on Phils shoulder, letting out a small sigh before he fell asleep. Phil didn't move for a bit, only moving his hand to carefully take the mug out of the others hand, and he settled down for a while, just thinking about the day's whole ordeal. Questions filled his brain. ‘Why did Ranboo dig up all that area so messily? What was even in that chest, and why was he so obviously scared of me seeing it? Why was he so scared?’ Phil tried his best to just brush them off, he would ask Ranboo another day, when he was more calm, and feeling better. 

Some time had passed by now, and Philzas wings were beginning to cramp, so he gently laid the boy down on the bed, and carefully threw a thick blanket over him. Ranboo looked very peaceful in this moment, small vwoops coming out occasionally, but he didn't sound distressed. Phil smiled for a second before he grabbed the pile of wet clothes and took them upstairs to get washed and dried with the mask. Ranboo felt safe and warm for the first time in a long time, and he was content, dreaming about defeating a dragon with a steak or something, snuggled under the warm blanket. Who knows, dreams are weird.

Thank you for reading! If you got to this point I wish you the most amazing day, thank you!