#ive had such a bad day but i was pretty much listening to crown all day long

[yourlocallyneysimp]

Hi! Can you do lyney dating hcs?? Ive been craving for lyney content😭 btw i luv ur work❗️

Lyney dating hcs ♡

A/n: Aw, thank you! I went a little crazy with this one and had a lot of fun writing it! Hope you enjoy it. ✨️

He's such a gentleman, oml.

He will make sure you're comfortable before he does anything or before anything happens.

He is always checking up on you, whether that be before or after a performance.

He won't force you to perform with him and Lynette on stage, but if you do, a smile would never leave his face!

If you don't like performing on stage, he would definitely wink at you if you're in the crowd.

Lyney always puts a lot of effort into the gifts he gives you! Most of the time he makes them himself.

He has a ton of paintings of you hung up in his home. Not only because he wants to admire your beauty, but also because he thinks photos are not enough!

He definitely has a photo album of you and him safely kept in his bookcase. If you're away and he misses you, he will look through the memories of you and him together.

If you give him gifts, no matter how bad it looks, he keeps it on display. He would definitely brag to anyone about the gifts you gave him.

Lyney also does this magic trick where he makes roses appear out of thin air. A few times, he made a whole bouquet appear!

He loves to dress you up. Especially in circus outfits!

Lyney is very clingy! He doesn't even try to hide that you two are dating, even in public. You could be talking to someone, and he would be right next to you, holding your hand or hugging you from behind.

He loves to have small tea parties with you and Lynette! He makes sure to make everything perfect when a tea party is about to occur. Especially if you're coming.

He definitely will sleep in your room all the time. He can't sleep on his own, claiming that it's too "uncomfortable". He never fails to show up at your room door with a pillow in hand.

He paints your nails and they always come out perfect! ✨️

If you feel upset or down, he would show you magic tricks like making a bunny appear out of his hat! He would do anything to put a smile on your face.

Kisses on the hand, cheek, forehead, lips. Pretty much anywhere. If you're in public and you get embarrassed from the kisses, he would refrain from kissing you on the lips and instead do it on your cheek or hand.

Lyney is very overprotective and worries a lot whenever you go out on your own. He knows you're capable of protecting yourself but he can't help but worry.

He would be waiting right in front of the door whenever you get home from a long day.

Sometimes Lyney likes to put his hat on you. Mostly because he finds it funny when you wear it.

He loves running his fingers through your hair or styling it. It makes him feel at peace.

He bought a small brooch in the shape of a cat. Whenever you don't wear it, he gets upset.

He likes to dance with you, especially under the moon light.

He definitely twirls you around. Change my mind.

Romantic dates are a must. Dancing under the moonlight or having a late night dinner at a restaurant is something that you must do at least once a week.

Whenever you speak about something you adore, he is always listening with a huge smile on his face.

He remembers the small details.

He loves putting roses in your hair and making flower crowns.

He admires your face whenever you're sleeping. He thinks you're beautiful.

He's slightly impatient, but he tells himself that he would propose at the perfect moment.

[hongugu]

because everyone has to give their opinion on TXT so i might as well do it too x) i just think they are very nice and the music is very promising. the mini album already has some variety in it while also giving us a good idea of the general direction so you dont feel like they have no idea what kind of music they want to do. its just so nice and upbeat and danceable :) i do hope they chill with the autotune a bit because especially in cat & dog its kinda excessive but in the same time i get that it can be an intentional part of this kinda.... idk what kind of pop this is x) through the preview i actually thought it would sound too “plastic” (idk what i meant about that it was just a pheeling, i guess the excessive ~electronic instruments?) but then the singing actually fills it with so much life and emotion that its not a problem anymore.

i also like that its got a very universally relatable theme about fitting in and being different and belonging and finding your kind of people. i feel like thats something everyone can relate to which is nice like i dont think i would be this into the song if it was a love song or something, something i cant exactly relate to. thats not to say groups who release love songs as their debuts are Bad its just my personal preference.

member-wise i just like them all so much already? i havent seen every introduction video yet or everything mnet released since theyre not subtitled yet but from what i did see they just seem like a playful bunch ^^ so far i like soobin and beomgyu the most, soobin being the leader (and the tolest which automatically makes him part of my squad. my crew. my gang.) i just immediately gravitate towards him like i just want to give him endless love and support. beomgyu is just so adorable and also he’s a musician which always draws my attention because i feel like musicians understand music differently (im not saying more, just differently) than those who dont play instruments.

other than that the member that has more of my attention is taehyun who i actually thought i wouldnt like this much. him and hueningkai were like eeuuuh idk if i feel a Connection but of course it was still pre-debut when they hadnt even talked yet x) but then theres just something about his stage presence that i find very likeable. as for hueningkai he just looks so frail and smiley i just want to protect immediately :’D

its actually yeonjun that i thought i would like more...? that sounds wrong like i dont like him which is not the case. i just havent yet found why he stands out for me personally. but i guess he’s a (the?) rapper in the group which is always a good start, im excited to get to know him more ^^ 

overall im so happy to be there for a group since their announcement which hasnt happened before ^^ plus theyre in such a unique position i just cant help but follow how they do with curiosity and a lot of worry x)

if you like them please support them but also dont be weird about it especially if youre older thankkxxxssss ♥♥

[thedarkheretic156]

IV_ Eternal Flame_IV

Parts: ❧ I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX❧

TW: slight gore.

The old folklore of the east whispers of a terrible power. Wielded by a lone demigod, fated to walk through the eras the dark fires of hell dancing on her fingers. With no regard for human life, she was fated to be feared and worshipped. But fate is a bitch. Now cursed to be stripped of her powers and doomed to mortality she finds herself in the care of a sworn rival. The great Daiyoki of the west.

❧Hunt❧

I groaned into the grass. It was hot, unbelievably humid and I was bored out of my mind. The cicadas buzzed loudly around us as Rin and I sat making flower crowns from wildflowers. The act felt strange to me, I hadn't ever really stopped and bothered to look at flowers. Much less play with them. But the child seemed to have found curiosity in everything.

Rin sat among a patch of violet-blue flowers, thin fingers wrapping flower tendrils into delicate braids. She looked so content just doing that. I wondered what it would be to feel that at peace. I sighed, throwing a clump of grass in the air. "Rin?" I asked, "Do you want to go hunt?"

Rin's humming stopped, "Hunt?"

I shrugged, "or anything else really, I could teach you how to spar." "I don't like to fight," Rin replied meekly, setting the flower crown down. "I don't think I could hurt anyone." She said, shuddering as if repressing a bad memory.

I frowned. "Just because you can wield a sword doesn't mean you have to hurt people," I replied. "The choice remains with the master, not the weapon."

I arched my back, the laziness of the humid evening weighing down on me. "You're human. You're a woman. The world will be harder on you." even as I spoke, I wondered why I cared all of a sudden.

A small voice rang in my head, what does it matter? A human child, bound to death, what good could a blade bring to her life?

Rin shook her head, "I have lord Sesshomaru to keep me safe." She said smiling, I rolled my eyes.

"And master Jaken, and Ah-un." The child continued in a sing-song manner, "And now~" she added, "I have you too." My half-lidded eyes flew open, shocked more by the brazen coincidence of the words. Wei, the real Wei, had said the same thing. Grinning her beautiful smile, so bright it rivaled sacred fire burning behind her.

And what had happened to her?

I felt myself grimace at the old memory. And then, even after all that, I had just let her die.

10 more days. I counted down. 10 more suns before the feast of Manna, could I even stay near her after that? Can I see through the belief the human child had put in me? Something dark settled in me. Rin placed the finished flower crown on my head. "All done!" she announced, "You look so pretty!" she said clapping her hands.

Not this one. I thought, promising it to whatever wretched deity that was listening. I won't fail this one too. The dusk settled in, painting the sky a beautiful auburn, against the vast sky, Rin's frame gleamed with life. The soft scent of wildflowers clung to her palms. For the first time Y/n, felt peaceful. But she hadn't just realized it yet. Not quite yet.

You are going soft, daughter of the hills.

I jerked up, sitting around wallowing in thoughts was doing nothing.

"Rin," I said. I needed to do something about my boredom, "what do you think about having Pork for dinner?"

"This feels like a bad idea." Rin said sheepishly, "We could always just eat the fish lord Jaken got for us." She said shuffling hesitantly. I grunted, "take this as a small token of advice Rin, never settle for alms from someone, when you can get better things by yourself." I strapped Mrutunjai to Ah-un's saddle, patting the fire-demons snout. He huffed in response lowering one of his heads for a pat.

"But your wounds-" Rin continued, "I don't think you should hunt until they are completely healed, and its already dark, what I lord Sesshomaru finds out-"

I looked at the young girl and grinned. Rin felt a rush of warmth as the cockiest smile laced the older female's face. There was truly something different about her she couldn't fathom. At times like these when she smiled, Rin would feel as though the woman should have been born with razor-sharp fangs.

I pushed my long braid over my shoulder, "Let Onee-san handle this." Th further we walked into the forest the more nervous Rin grew. I knew all she could think about was how Sesshomaru wouldn't approve of their little exercise. But right now I couldn't care less, the Daiyokai and Jaken couldn't be seen since morning. These two would just wander away without any explanation, expecting us to stay put like good little humans and I was far over it.

Having to wait around for them to return to do anything was getting on my nerves. The frustration seeped into my steps as I angrily strode forward. Ah-un at my heels. The overhead canopy grew thicker and Ah-un grunted. He seemed to have spotted something. I narrowed my eyes, scanning the pitch darkness of the forest before us, there was a faint twitch and I grinned, "Good boy" I whispered to the fire demon.

I pulled on his reins and the fire demon stopped, Rin peeked out from his saddle, "What's wrong?" I motioned her to stay quiet and slipped Mrutyunjai off the saddle. I gave her a departing wink and patted one of Ah-uns heads. In an unspoken command, one fire demon to another, Ah-un understood perfectly, leaping gracefully into the midnight sky. Taking Rin away at a comfortable distance from the hunt site. I leaned against my sword, warming my human body for what was to come. An undeniable thrill went down my spine as I wrapped my fingers around the familiar hilt. Usually her blade would have roared to life, quivering with bloodlust. But right now it felt dead in my hands. I adjusted my stance. No time to mope over that now. I locked my eyes on the beast, hiding perfectly with the stripped brown trees around the undergrowth. Mud flies buzzed around, and the beast's ear flick was the only sign I needed to charge. The boar noticed, obviously. At the first crunch of the dry leaves under my foot, the monstrous beast burst out of its hiding place. Plowing chunks of earth with its upturned tusks on its snout. The bellow sent birds flying from all directions.

My speed was drastically low, the human body alien to any kind of fighting, I had lost so much strength, I needed both my hands to hold up my own sword. But my mind hadn't forgotten the eons of harsh training. The demon instinct honned over the years and just the pure thrill of drawing blood took over completely. The boar charged at me, I steadied the blade in my hand and waited, just a little closer now. I dropped to my kneed, wringing the wicked blade with me, slicing through the beast's front legs. The animal's scream rang through the forest, the crimson blood splattering everywhere. The wound tipped it off its balance, slamming head first into the trunk of a wide mahogany.

Good. I thought It was a clean cut through its legs not powerful to dismantle the limb but enough to send its balance for a toss. The splatter of blood had already covered one side of my face. Out of habit, I stuck my tongue out and tasted it. The metallic taste of blood sent shivers down my spine. More.

I needed more.

It charged again, and dashed towards me, its wounded legs buckling, the upturned tusks narrowly missed my torso as I slashed the sword across its eyes. If I still had my ayakashi body I would have just let the beast crash into me, it would have been a blow I could take easily. But now I had to dodge even the lightest attack, one mistake and it would smash me up against the bark of a tree. Well, it just made it that much more thrilling.

The beast now half blind squirmed before me in a panic frenzy. I pulled mrutyunjai up, my arms shaking with excitement and exhaustion. And charged again. It continued to scream in agony as I sliced through it, evading the tusks and curved hoofs. My blows were clean yet ruthless, chopping off the beast's hind legs, ears, and chunks of its snout before allowing it to die. I growled giving the final blow, sinking the blade hilt-deep into its heart. The beast spluttered out more blood before finally falling silent.

I drew the sword from the corpse and Ah-un and Rin descended down. I kneeled down beside the beast pressing my palm against its snout. "king of beasts, slain in sport, slain in hunger, I bow down for your sacrifice."  I whispered out in the old tongue, a prayer my clan spoke after every kill.

Rin's pale face popped out of the saddle again, "is-is it d-dead?" she whispered, there was a queasy look to her face like she was going to be sick. I tried to stand up, but my knees gave away. The little hunt seemed to have taken a massive toll on my human body. I doubled over, the world before me spinning. Rin squealed, running towards me at once, I felt her thin arms around me as she spoke, "are you okay? You're hurt aren't you?!" She wailed out, "I knew this would happen I knew -"

I opened my mouth to reassure her but a familiar croak beat me to it. "THERE THEY ARE!" Jaken's strained voice called out, "M-master Jaken-" Rin started, but the toad demon was fuming. Fuming.

I had no strength left to retaliate. Fuck I was worn. There was no breath left in me and my whole body shook from exhaustion. I dropped to the ground, pushing back blood-slick hair from my face.

"UNGRATEFUL HUMANS BOTH OF YOU" he screamed at us, "Going off alone at night, into the forest, without any courtesy of even ASKING your Master Lord Sesshomaru! you have no right!" he continued, "No right to wander off on your own, NO RIGHT- not when Lord Sesshomaru has so generously taken your useless self under his wing-" his gaze pinned on Rin, still smoldering with anger. And I wasn't going to take that.

"We went on a hunt." I explained simply, reigning in the tide of anger rolling in.

He pointed a green finger at me, "I knew it was a bad idea to take you in." He snarled. "There wasn't any use for another dead weight troublemaker here-

"Load the beast on the saddle," I told him softly. There was a long period of silence that followed before Jaken went red with rage, "Only Lord Sesshomaru can command me. He boomed shaking with anger, "you filthy, low-life, undignified-

"Rin." My voice was pure venom. I had just about enough of these insults, "How about we have frog legs for dinner as well?" I  asked murderously, The intent to kill seeped into my tone. For a moment I completely forgot who I was and who the goblin in front of me was. I just wanted to kill again. Draw blood. I felt the trance take over me. I flicked out my tongue tasting the thick, boar blood caking my face. More. Cut its throat. A death-like whisper spoke in my head.

Skin it alive. Another whispered.

More. They sang in unison. More.

I felt myself raising Mrutyunjay again-

"Jaken."

The cold voice snapped me back to reality. I blinked realizing what just had happened, the trance wore off as soon as it had appeared. The bloodthirsty voices faded out as if someone had flipped a switch. The thought that I would have struck Jaken down, right in front of Rin made me shudder.

Anger, daughter of the hills, if you don't leash your temper it'll run you over.

I looked up to see Sesshomaru toss the beast onto Ah-uns back. His amber eyes flashed towards me. Molten gold. My human blood quivered, making my teeth clatter. My mortality itself recoiled from pure daunt, as my survival instincts kicked in. I was standing in front of something so much more powerful than my human self. He called it back, tearing the cold unreadable eyes off my figure. I knew more than well what he was doing, a silent warning, using one's ayakashi aura to suppress the weaker species.

A reminder of who really the daiyokai here was. He turned away wordlessly, taking Jaken with him. His long silver hair faded into the canopy as Rin helped her on her feet.

"Lord Sesshomaru is just upset." She promised her weakly, "He won't let you go though, so you don't worry, I'll talk to him-" the child continued, giving me well-meaning yet rather empty words of reassurance.

It was clear he wanted me and Rin to return on our own with Ah-un. I pulled myself onto Ah-un's saddle weakly, before pulling Rin up as well.

Her heart and mind were still racing as they leaped into the night sky. The standoff with the daiyokai had sent her human body reeling with fear. But her ayakashi mind had felt it differently. The burn of his gaze, the way his aura had encased her threateningly, her ayakashi mind had felt it at its core. It had been just as powerful, yet not daunting. It was something else that has stunned her into silence, something else entirely. For her ayakashi mind, it was arousing.

---------

Parts: ❧ I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX❧

I can't wait to make it a smut already, but we need more plot. T8T

[ceilingfan5]

also for that meme: 5, 22, 34!!!

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

honestly im proud of different ones for different reasons! my first published fic makes me happy because i went and did the damn thing and was brave, branching out from what felt safe at the time (constantly role-playing with my now ex) to a place where strangers could look at and COMMENT on my work! i think my fic with the most kudos is one of my opm fics that i reread now and laugh about how silly it is, but im still pleased that so many people enjoyed it and cheered me on to grow! im really proud of Little Shop of Horny because I really admired ailem @honeysweetcorvidae and wanted to write with/like them and getting to roleplay that and then PUBLISH that with them was so thrilling! im super proud of paper crowns because it's my longest work, but i think maybe im most proud of sticker stars because it's the biggest thing ive written entirely by myself and i feel like it's pretty cohesive and solid!

22. Do you listen to anything while you write?

i simply cannot, it distracts me too bad. sometimes i can manage rain sounds MAYBE. but i can't even do like, piano music or spanish guitar really quiet, i've tried. music with words? im done for. thats kind of why ive gotten into drawing! i wanted to be able to do things and create at the same time!

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

maybe the ground beef section from sticker stars ch 5? i remember it came out of nowhere and i just laughed to myself about how fucking funny i am

They weave between shops and duck into a maze of alleys, and as soon as the clusterfuck of jackasses comically run past without seeing them, they both sigh in relief. Kravitz can hardly breathe, and not just because he wasn’t expecting to run after eating all of that ravioli. He can’t believe he did that. He can’t believe he said those things. He can’t believe it’s been documented for the whole world to see and inevitably going to blow up and people are going to ask him questions about it and every day now is going to be like this, being swarmed and photographed and screamed at? Usually he hides from the press, and now he feels like he’s been paraded around naked in front of them.

“Hey, breathe,” Taako says, squeezing his hand. Kravitz hopes he hasn’t been trying to crush Taako’s in his for this whole experience. “Put your head between your knees, or whatever. C’mon.”

Kravitz nods and obeys, and Taako lets go of his hand only to gently rub his back. Kravitz doesn’t get what he’s done for Taako to deserve this, but he appreciates it more than he could possibly articulate. The dirty stone wall is cold behind him, and there’s a grocery store ad blowing around on the pavement. $3.29 a pound for ground beef. Is that a good deal? He doesn’t cook. Taako cooks. But does he buy his own ingredients? Would he know?

“Three twenty-nine,” he says, breathless, “Beef.”

Great job. Knocked that one out of the park.

“Huh?” Taako says, charitably.

“S- Is that-” In through the nose and out through the mouth. His head is starting to pound from this position. He straightens up and feels dizzy, and he bumps into Taako. Taako steadies him, bemused, a weird twisted expression on his face.

“You good, dog?”

“Stellar. Is that good? Good price for beef?” He tries keeping his tone casual. It is not, get this, working very well at all.

“Uh, yeah?” Taako puts his hands on Kravitz’s shoulders, holding him onto the planet. Kravitz should write him a thank you card. He is very much feeling like floating away and never coming back, and he sort of has some shit to do in the coming weeks that would be made much more difficult by becoming a low-orbit satellite. “Yeah. Why, you want some? You gonna turn into a werewolf on me? We just had lunch.”

“No, it’s-” Kravitz gestures at the ad, which is blowing away. He frowns. Taako’s going to think he’s nuts. He feels nuts. He can’t believe this is the day he’s having. “I can’t believe I proposed to you.”

“You did an incredible job, by the way. Great work saving your panic for private.”

“Thanks,” Kravitz says, feeling like Taako’s tricked him into smiling. “It’s one of my top marketable skills.”

[uncertaininnit]

who wants to read an essay about my relationship with simping/an appreciation(/simping lol) post about Will+Eret and also seperately tommyinnit that was written at 4:22 am and then added to the queue because i love the queue system also fun fact i pronounced the word ‘queue’ as ‘cc-week’ for like an entire year and idk why anyways

lets just jump into it

lol

so. if somebody was to ask me who my favorite mcyt is, i would think about it for a moment and eventually answer with either Wilbur or Eret. and i think that is purely out of simping instinct or whatever the fuck. 

to start, Wilbur; the prettiest man, period. i do not take constructive criticism. he is literally gorgeous and i get so mad at him for putting himself down all the time because he doesnt deserve the shit, especially not from himself. he is 24 years old and has the lowest self-esteem out of anybody i can think of. i want to yell in his face all the time. i want to tell him simps are the same species as him, and they have REASONS to simp. if you keep seeing appreciation posts about yourself (which im sure he does) that means people APPRECIATE YOU and WANT YOU to feel APPRECIATED. 

anyway, back to simping. let’s start from the top. his goddamn hair. it is, it is, and i just took a deep breath, so pretty. maybe it isnt the hair itself, probably, but the way it is done. wavy dark brown hair all floofy in the front. and he is constantly messing with it, which is THE cutest thing. when he is excited, he moves a lot, and his hair moves with him and gets messed up and ahhhcvkvyr moving on.

his face? lets start with his eyes. they are so pretty. i think my opinion on eyes is probably weird, and allow me to explain why. i never ever notice somebodies eye color when talking to them. i just dont even look. so when i am actively paying attention to somebody’s eyes, they are that much more important to me. but idk, i kinda feel like his eyes are one of the biggest factors of his face? like, he looks really pretty whether he is smiling or not, because his face doesn’t ride on his smile.

sidetrack paragraph about george: i think george is that way. he is adorable, but he is only really adorable when he is smiling. if i look up ‘georgenotfound cute’ it will be entirely him smiling, and never any other facial expression because he genuinely looks like the fucking weirdest thing sometimes when making a serious face. back to will.

i dont pay attention to noses because who even cares dude but i’m sure his nose does a good job of supporting his looks as well so good job nose

his SMILE. he doesn’t need to smile, but dude, when he does, it’s like i always used to say (and still would say) in regards to eijiro kirishima. it’s like... sunbeams, like rays of light are in his mouth and escaping when he smiles.i wonder how he keeps a star in there. because his smile literally lights up my heart. and when he tilts his head(basically all the time luckily)? so goddamn pretty. pretty man. pretty. 

that brings us to his neck, which is- no, kidding, but i do want to talk about his vocal chords! firstly his speaking voice, which i guess as an american it hits different for me because of the accent. but- i dont think i can put it into words. but the way he puts thoughts into words-(lol) idk, his voice is just really sweet. and his SINGING VOICE, here we go.

so he sings, duh. and i- holy fuck. he just sounds good, you know? he is a good singer. i want to put my emotions simply this time. he sings well, and he sounds good. a pretty voice for a pretty man. i cant even try to elaborate.

basically the only other thing of my concern is his fucking yellow sweater? or jumper or whatever the fuck? and his beanie? on his body? damn. i am genuinely attached to that sweater. it just looks good, ok? it does. 

oh yeah, and he’s hella fucking tall. 6′5? are you kidding? you couldn’t have at least been short so we could make fun of you?

oh yeah and his laugh-

it is now 4:53 am and a bitch is tired but i have an entire fucking train of thoughts and they must be somewhere before they slip away

the next part- Eret. i adore Eret. so incredibly much. and let me start this by saying i’m going to consistantly call him a he, because he doesn’t care and so that makes it easier for me. ok? ok.

he is the opposite of Wilbur in this one regard, confidence. and self-esteem. eret loves himself. that attitude spreads. look, not only is he like the #1 bicon in the world as far as i’m concerned, but he also actively fucks gender roles any day. strawberry dress pog? strawberry dress pog.

but seriously, he rocked the strawberry dress. and the suit, though i missed that stream. he rocks his crown, his sunglasses, just anything he puts on. and don’t get me started on the BOOTS

(im started on the boots) so firstly the heel boots, the first ones he got. when i first saw clips, my only thought was something like ‘woah.’ or maybe ‘damn.’ at that point i didn’t know much about him, just that he looked STELLAR in those boots (and the betrayal and shit yknow) and the PLATFORMS DUDE

the platforms are the same but moar tall, which is incredible. oh and now back to strawberry dress- have you seen him twirl? the twirl? hello? have you seen it? you must. 

also i havent even talked about HIM yet. hove you seen that picture of him with a bird on his shoulder? he is facing the bird, i think looking at it, with a wide smile across his face. and it is so pretty. he has the prettiest smile. 

also today i was looking for flour at the store place and a clip of him was playing in my mind- he was doing like an announcer voice, like in every superhero movie trailer- and he was just coming up with something to say, and what he ened up saying was ‘in a world... where.... cookies.... are made of pringles’ and OMFG its making me laugh even now. like of absolutely anything, that was the example he made. just thinking about it is making me smile. 

speaking of, have you heard his voice? his normal voice is really really deep anyways, but he has crazy range- he can effortlessly(i originally wrote effortly and when i noticed i laughed because i am so fucking tired bfv9wuocl) go from like an elmo impression (and a good one) to a just REALLY low voice, lower than his normal low voice. 

AND HIS SINGING VOICE! he doesn’t like actually make music like wilbur but on that one stream where he did kareoke (how the fuck is it spelled) with fundy and his voice is SO LIKE its deep and its just pretty and i never want to hear normal sweater weather ever again, just him singing it.

i think this is where i’m done with eret- it is 5:18 now, and a BITCH IS TIRED but i need to finish this while i’m still feeling this wayy or i’ll never finish it, i know this from experience.

and now it’s tommy time

the og reason i decided to make this an actual post . but i had to explain the simping thing before i got into my thoughts about tommy. 

but let me start this with just saying yes, i love him. he is a big man and i want him to be happy. which is the topic for today’s discussion, AHEM. 

so tommyinnit, right? he is 16, which is why i do NOT simp.i dont care that im also a minor, i wouldn’t do anything to make him feel uncomfortable, ever. in any world. never. because look- i dont know how to put it, but tommy is SIXTEEN. still young and impressionable and all that junk. and he is a fairly fucking famous twitch streamer. he does that almost daily.

what i’m saying is i dont want him to get hurt. him, and tubbo too. they are a part of the world, part of the public, all the time. don’t you think that is stressful? do you guys remember his haircut stream? on the day of his haircut? and chat was making fun of him for it, and wilbur was making fun of him for it. that is how i express affection, with my real friends as well. playful bullying. but at some point while Will was teasing him, he says something along the lines of ‘yeah, the big man hasn’t been having too great a day’ or something like that, and dude, my heart dropped.

a. he had mentioned earlier that he didn’t want to stream the day of his haircut because hair is always weird that first day, but since he hadn’t streamed in a good bit he felt obliged to. i dont really.. idk, i dont really like that. i dont want him to have to put himself in uncomfortable situations because he feels like he needs to for us. i don’t think that is healthy.

and b. chat and wilbur were bullying him. good-naturedly, but still, when he mentioned he had been having a bad day, the chat turned around and instantly started yelling shit like ‘AHHHH SORRY BIG MAN YOUR HAIR IS FINE’ and when Wilbur kept teasing him (you fucking beautiful bully man fuck off) yelling stuff like ‘WILBUR QUIT WE ARE H U R T I N G HIM’ and ‘WILL STFU HES HAVING A BAD DAY’ so im glad we all want him to feel ok

but still, it cannot be healthy. when i first got into MCYT, i though tommy was fucking loud and annoying. and he is! he is. but that is a big part of why i like him so much. and everyone jokes about him being a child, because he is, but i choose to not say stuff like that in chat just because i want him to be happy. those jokes are fun, but i want him to be happy. and he is happier when not being called a child.

im not attacking you, do whatever the fuck you want. i dont know why i feel the need to protect him or whatever, if he read this he would probably think i was hella creepy. i just- listen, i just want him to be happy. i just want him to smile and laugh. i sound SO GODDAMN CREEPY but- as ive said- i just want him to be happy. 

is this literally just what having a comfort streamer is? am i not crazy? does everyone experience this? and can we talk about tommy’s playlist it’s literally so sweet and bubbly compared to his personality and i love that. and the song he always plays at the start of stream and always like buzzes along to? that moment in time is my very favorite.

it is 5:44-

[mikaa-mina]

At Garden’s Edge- ch8: A Day in the Life of a Newt(on Pulsifer)

The lights are too bright, and Newt can’t quite hear what the lady in front of him is saying over the cacophony of beeps. His head also feels quite.... strange. He’s pretty sure that it’s not supposed to feel like it’s floating half a foot above his neck while also feeling like it’s stuffed full of cotton.

Some of the beeping suddenly stops, making it so much quieter in the ER, and Newt can finally understand what the nurse is asking. He tells her he thinks he’s fine, only he managed to hit something in the middle of the road with his bike and that sent him sailing towards the curb, which his bike tire hit at the wrong angle, and that quite firmly ejected him from his seat. And actually, he’s not at all quite sure how he got here, or why he’s here.

The nurse comes closer before he realizes she’s holding a tablet to enter his information in. By the time he realizes, it’s too late.

There’s a sound much like a mosquito hitting a trap lamp with a bright Bzzt! and then tablet goes dark in her hands. Newt grimaces.

It snowballs from there.

She shushes his apologies and uses the flip hospital phone that they use now instead of chargers/beepers to call the nurse station and request a backup one. It, accordingly, powers off halfway through her phone call. She shakes it with a frown and grumbles about the board of offices being cheap with their equipment, turns a sunny smile on him, and brightly says “well, I’ll just take down the basics and get your vitals while we wait. Do you have records here?”

“Uh. Maybe?” probably, “Which hospital is this?”

“The Brugmansia Hospital.”

“Oh! Yeah. I was born here. Uh. I changed my name though. Still Pulsifer for the last name though, figure there’s probably not too many of them around,” he laughs nervously, overly conscious of how awkward he is and how unable he is to do anything about it.

She still smiles, ever professional, and jots down his information. “First name?”

“Oh! Right. Sorry. It’s Newton now. Newton Pulsifer.”

“Thank you Newton, now I’m just going to take your vitals now.”

“Oh- I, uh, don’t really think-”

It’s too late, she’s come up to take his temperature with their new wireless, laser thermometer and it promptly errors out. It continues to error out no matter how many times she restarts it. The heavy seed of dread in Newt’s stomach grows larger. This is exactly why he tries not to go to places like this.

“I’m sorry. Uh, do you happen to have something maybe not, uh, electrical?”

She gives him a funny look for that and he shrinks back.

“Well. Let me get your blood pressure and o2 readings.”

Newt looks dubiously at the machine setup she wheels over to him. Miraculously, it goes okay when she wraps the cuff around his upper arm, and even when it starts. Everything avalanches when she puts the wireless o2 reader on him. Immediately everything in his room fritzes out, the lights even flickering before coming back, but all of the machines are still down or in the emergency boot up system restart.

“Oh bugger,” he sighs under his breath, quietly enough that the nurse fretting over all the technology can’t hear how resigned and unsurprised he is.

The avalanche continues when a nearby nurse ducks in and his tablet powers itself off. The smartwatch he’s wearing starts having three different alarms go off on it, and then there’s some shouts of alarm from outside Newt’s room that he’s really not sure that he wants to know what they’re about.

There are four people in his room now, in varying states of bewilderment and frustration, trying to figure out why everything’s malfunctioning in his room while also trying to get it back up and working. No one’s listening to Newt when he tries to explain that if he could just leave, it’d get better, but then, he’s mostly used to being ignored at this point.

More and more people trickle into the room, Newt spots the tech support guy he wished to be, frowning and scratching his head as he looks at everything. And then he looks at Newt.

A quick mumble about using the loo and Newt escapes out of the room, IV still attached to the weird metal stand and his arm but at least they’re not electronically powered. Just good engineering and reliable gravity.

He figures if he can put enough distance between him, and the rest of all that technology crammed into one small spot, that everything will boot back up just fine. And if not, Newt could write out exactly how to fix it.

So he heads to the loo, because now that he’s made the excuse, he figures he might as well try and also he’s betting on there being a whole lot less fancy technology in there. If only he could actually find said loo. Or any loo, really.

He’s waylaid by a small girl about ten minutes into his wandering of the halls.

“Oh. Hullo there.”

The girl is missing three teeth, has brown hair, and is looking at Newt as if he’s the newest attraction in the city zoo. Under her stare, Newt almost feels like one.

“Wut’er you doing?”

“Er... looking for the loo.”

She looks at him, looks in the direction he was heading in, looks back at him and matter-of-fact-ly says, “you’re going the wrong way.”

He blinks at her, which she takes as permission for her to reach up and grab his hand and start pulling him in the other direction. Bewildered, he followed.

And thus began a brand new game called “Lead the Newt” which had a revolving cast of characters, all under the age of twelve, each insisting they knew where the loo was, and each hiding him from sight any time an adult employee came near.

This scavenger hunt of a game ended at, not a loo (which made Newt extremely grateful he didn’t actually need one), but at a recreational sort of room. There was an old tv in one corner, an open treasure chest filled with costumes and toys, and a few bookshelves. The floor was spongy beneath Newt’s feat and looking down left him staring at brightly colored interlocking foam mat puzzle pieces.

For some reason, all of the co-conspirators find him funny, and really the only tech he might fry in here is a rather old tv that looks like it’s been outdated so many times it can’t recall if it’s outdated or retro at this point, so all in all... This is probably the safest room for Newt to be in. And certainly more interesting than the loo.

And that’s how he finds himself, an hour later, dressed in a paper hat of some kind (its supposed to be a jester’s hat) leaning against his iv pole, making elaborate gestures with his free hand, and telling terrible terrible jokes to a kid in a paper crown and to the amusement of the other kids around him. It’s most certainly a bizarre scene, but no one has commented on it as of yet and due entirely for the fact that the secondary game they’re all playing is ‘Hide the Newt’ any time an adult wanders by. Closets, corners, and blankets have all been heavily featured by now in this game.

So Newt can hardly be blamed for jumping near out of his skin when, after telling a particularly bad punny joke, he hears an adult’s laughter. So he jumps, jerks, and tries to turn to face the voice all in one motion and ends up somehow practically hogtieing himself in his iv cord and going down.

He ended up in a heap of limbs, metal pole, and iv cord wrapped all around him, and his glasses hanging half off his face. “Oh bugger...”

There was a snickering above him from the adult voice and the children alternating between giggles at his fall and joyful cries of “Crow Crow!”, “Mister Crow!”, and “Miss Crow!”. As Newt struggled to untangle himself, with the help of a few kids who both made things worse and better in turns, the other children began pleading with the Crow? Crow?? to pleeeeease let them keep Newt.

The stranger is crouching down to the kid’s level by the time Newt gets mostly upright, and they look a lot like they’re trying very hard not to laugh. “Now. However did you magpies manage to steal a whole person?”

Laughter sounds and they’re throwing themselves at the redhead and the two bags they set down. As the majority are immediately distracted by the prospect of sweets and the passing out of them, the stranger turns to Newt and raises an eyebrow high above dark sunglasses and says, “well? How’d they manage to kidnap you?”

Before Newt can respond the kids answer with excuses that pile over one another ranging from “he just wandered in!” to the actually mostly truthful “he was lost so we were showing him around!”.

“Oh really now?” they seem to be biting back laughter as they continue, “he was lost so you decided to help him by keeping him here?”

Some of the kids looked abashed while others look outright proud of themselves and to Newt’s surprise the stranger threw back their head with a short bark of a laugh before grinning as if proud of them.

Just in case he was reading the situation wrong, he’d done that with people more than a few times, Newt tried pushing through his embarrassment and awkwardness with an “It’s, uh, alright. Really. It’s been kind of fun, actually.”

“Ah. Yeah, they really grow on you.” The Crow glanced at the kids with a mischievous look, “like a fungus.”

Groans and laughter sounded before all of a sudden a shushing and pointing as an adult was seen wandering their way. Before Newt could blink they had him hidden out of sight shoved in a closet between some coats, puppets, and something slightly sticky that he had no intention of exploring further.

He could hear the somewhat muffled conversation of the kids pleading with The Crow to keep their secret before a new adult voice joined the conversation. The voices dropped away a bit, except for the nervous kids right in front of the closet attempting to whisper between each other, before he can’t make anything out at all. He waits, nervousness beginning to creep in because just how long was he supposed to stay in the closet? Actually, about that, he’d really had enough of closets and hiding in them. Terribly stifling and awful and much better really to be out of them.

Eventually there’s the sound of foot falls coming closer and closer to the closet and for a moment Newt’s heart picks up, certain that he’s about to be found and get in trouble. Then the doors are opened and it’s the red headed stranger who jokes, “ready to come out of the closet?”

And Newt’s still full of nervousness and it expresses itself by making him immediately blurt out “already did that once really. Was sort of hoping to not have to do it again.”

There’s a pause where the red head stares at him and the realization that he’s said that out loud crashes over Newt who flushes hotly. “Oh gods, I said that out loud...” and then The Crow tilts their head back and laughs.

“Been there, done that!” They agree with a grin and reach in to pull Newt out. “C’mon, ‘parently they’ve been running a missing patient code for half an hour looking for you.”

Newt relaxed fractionally, “you figured all that out from the nurse in five minutes?”

“Nah. Heard about it when I snuck in through one of the back windows. ‘s right beside one of the break rooms.”

“Oh, okay, that makes- wait. Did you say window?”

But they were already talking to the kids, “Alright you mischievous little magpies, you had your fun but we need to get him back now.” A chorus of “awwwws” and “but!!but!!”s sounded off but The Crow continued on, “if he’s here, he probably needs some help to get better, and I’m sure once he’s feeling better he’ll come say hi again.” Here they glanced over at at Newt expectantly, so Newt nodded since it seemed expected, and then they continued, “alright, so say bye to...”

“Newt.”

The Crow stilled, tilted their head to the side and asked disbelievingly, “really?” as if they didn’t also have the name of an animal.

“Yeah.”

“Alright magpies, tell Newt bye.”

There’s goodbyes and promises to come back and right as they’re leaving the first girl that had caught Newt comes up to The Crow and, in a whisper so very loud she might as well be talking, says “you hafta be nice to him!”

“Oh do I now?”

She nodded furiously, “he doesn’t ree-lize his jokes are reeeeally bad!”

The Crow seemed to choke on something before spluttering into a laughter the kid shushed them for.

“Sorry, sorry,” they managed, fighting back their grin and not looking sorry in the least as they chanced a quick glance at Newt.

The girl frowned, “you’re not sorry at all!”

“I am, I am!”

She looked unimpressed but when bribed with an extra pastry she let it, and them, go.

They’re on their way back to the nurse’s station (Newt didn’t even know what room they put him in) when he breaks the silence to ask, “is your name really Crow?”

“To the kids, yes. You can call me Crowley.”

“Oh. Nice to meet you Crowley. Did you really come in through a window?”

Crowley grinned at him, “trade secret.”

[aboveallarescuer]

Dany’s intelligence, thoughtfulness and overall line of reasoning for taking decisions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adaptational Badass: Thanks to her being four years older in the show, it is she and not her advisers who come up with the battle plans in Seasons 3 and 4, plus her army does not seem to be on the verge of starving when they reach Meereen; showing her talent for logistics and conquering. (TVTropes)

~

Daenerys is super uncompromising about slavery, which is great, but her moral absolutism undermines her own goals. After conquering Yunkai and Astapor, and freeing their slaves, she peaces out to her next project. Since she never bothers to establish any kind of tenable power structure, they collapse and return to slavery, or similar, as soon as she is gone. (Wisecrack)

~

Daenerys [...] has exactly one strategy, and it’s called, “Yell A Lot and Burn Stuff.” That’s not always a bad strategy. The good ol “yell and burn” has gotten Daenerys out of being kidnapped, snagged her 8,000 Unsullied soldiers, saved Meereen from warships, and earned her the loyalty of the Dothraki not once, but twice. (Wisecrack)

~

Take the Unsullied. They aren’t exactly sellswords when they’re first introduced; they’re slaves. They aren’t fighting for loyalty or religion. However, by freeing them, Daenerys has transformed them from unwilling mercenaries to dedicated soldiers who are now devoted to her cause. So far, they’ve been her best fighters and their leader, Grey Worm, is one of her most trusted advisors. So, while freeing the Unsullied could be just another shining symbol of Daenerys's wokeness, it's also strategic. It’s likely no accident that she leaves the mercenaries in Meereen when she ships off to Westeros with the troops that now very much believe in her. (Wisecrack)

Dany doesn't come up with the battle plans in the books? Dany doesn't establish any kind of tenable power structure (it can be argued that she didn't do enough, but to say she didn't bother is plain wrong)? Dany only wants soldiers devoted to her cause (we even saw that she found treachery convenient in ADWD Dany VIII; besides, that would be dumb because she'd lose lots of men if she acted on that strictly and she's consistenly characterized as someone who listens to several perspectives, which is the opposite of desiring full devotion ... but I digress)? Dany's only strategy is to "Yell A Lot and Burn Stuff"?

I would argue these claims certainly cannot be made after reading the books (some can't even after watching the show's first 71 episodes, but it can be all over the place), so take a look at these passages.

NOTE: to decide which passages to include, I considered parameters such as social intelligence (she can usually read people well and act on that information, which we see from when she executes her plan against the masters in ASOS Dany III to when she notices that Daario didn't know that Quentyn's party was made of knights; there are exceptions, such as in Mirri's case), political awareness (like when she chooses to wear Qartheen gowns in ASOS Dany III and ADWD Dany III to appease Xaro and the masters or when she chooses Strong Belwas instead of the other men to fight against Oznak zo Pahl in ASOS Dany V or when she ponders if marrying Hizdahr will make her lose the Shavepate's support or when she asks Barristan to release Pretty Meris so she can try to obtain the support of Gylo Rhegan and the Tattered Prince for Dany's side because she's distrustful of the Yunkish in ADWD Dany VIII), battle plans (like when she concocts a plan to conquer Yunkai when her opponents least expect it in ASOS Dany IV) or clever associations (like when, even far away from Meereen, she remembers Belwas's physical reaction to the locusts and realizes, by herself, that they were poisoned, and then becomes suspicious of Hizdahr, who offered them to her and later screamed in favor of Drogon's death (she might be wrong in the latter, but she has a good reason to think so) in ADWD Dany X or when she realizes that "they cheer me on the same plaza where I once impaled one hundred sixty-three Great Masters" in ADWD Dany IX or in AGOT Dany I, in which she noticed that using a golden collar made her look like both a princess and one of Khal Drogo's slaves). Magical intuition would also fit, but I made a separate list for that one.

I must note, though, that the point of gathering these passages is not to find moments where Dany necessarily gets things right, but rather, to show that Dany almost always has a set of reasons for making the decisions she does. Even when she makes mistakes (and while her mistakes may have bigger negative effects than most of other characters', it must also be remembered that she makes bigger gambles than most), it can't be said that she was reckless, but rather that she lacked information or experience.

A Dance with Dragons

ADWD Daenerys X

Two days ago, climbing on a spire of rock, she had spied water to the south, a slender thread that glittered briefly as the sun was going down. A stream, Dany decided. Small, but it would lead her to a larger stream, and that stream would flow into some little river, and all the rivers in this part of the world were vassals of the Skahazadhan. Once she found the Skahazadhan she need only follow it downstream to Slaver’s Bay.

~

As the world darkened, Dany settled in and closed her eyes, but sleep refused to come. The night was cold, the ground hard, her belly empty. She found herself thinking of Meereen, of Daario, her love, and Hizdahr, her husband, of Irri and Jhiqui and sweet Missandei, Ser Barristan and Reznak and Skahaz Shavepate. Do they fear me dead? I flew off on a dragon’s back. Will they think he ate me? She wondered if Hizdahr was still king. His crown had come from her, could he hold it in her absence? He wanted Drogon dead. I heard him. “Kill it,” he screamed, “kill the beast,” and the look upon his face was lustful. And Strong Belwas had been on his knees, heaving and shuddering. Poison. It had to be poison. The honeyed locusts. Hizdahr urged them on me, but Belwas ate them all. She had made Hizdahr her king, taken him into her bed, opened the fighting pits for him, he had no reason to want her dead. Yet who else could it have been? Reznak, her perfumed seneschal? The Yunkai’i? The Sons of the Harpy?

~

She would have slept beside the water if she dared, but there were animals who came down to the stream to drink at night. She had seen their tracks. Dany would make a poor meal for a wolf or lion, but even a poor meal was better than none.

~

She fumbled in the water, found a stone the size of her fist, pulled it from the mud. It was a poor weapon but better than an empty hand.

~

In a dozen heartbeats they were past the Dothraki, as he galloped far below. To the right and left, Dany glimpsed places where the grass was burned and ashen. Drogon has come this way before, she realized. Like a chain of grey islands, the marks of his hunting dotted the green grass sea.

ADWD Daenerys IX

“Half of these Brazen Beasts are untried freedmen.” And the other half are Meereenese of doubtful loyalty, he left unsaid. Selmy mistrusted all the Meereenese, even shavepates.

~

How queer, the queen thought. They cheer me on the same plaza where I once impaled one hundred sixty-three Great Masters.

~

Across the pit the Graces sat in flowing robes of many colors, clustered around the austere figure of Galazza Galare, who alone amongst them wore the green. The Great Masters of Meereen occupied the red and orange benches. The women were veiled, and the men had brushed and lacquered their hair into horns and hands and spikes. Hizdahr’s kin of the ancient line of Loraq seemed to favor tokars of purple and indigo and lilac, whilst those of Pahl were striped in pink and white. The envoys from Yunkai were all in yellow and filled the box beside the king’s, each of them with his slaves and servants. Meereenese of lesser birth crowded the upper tiers, more distant from the carnage. The black and purple benches, highest and most distant from the sand, were crowded with freedmen and other common folk. The sellswords had been placed up there as well, Daenerys saw, their captains seated right amongst the common soldiers. She spied Brown Ben’s weathered face and Bloodbeard’s fiery red whiskers and long braids.

~

Barsena’s blade was running red, but the boar soon stopped. He is smarter than a bull, Dany realized. He will not charge again.

~

“Magnificence, the people of Meereen have come to celebrate our union. You heard them cheering you. Do not cast away their love.”

“It was my floppy ears they cheered, not me. Take me from this abbatoir, husband.”

ADWD Daenerys VIII

“Is there some man in the Second Sons who might be persuaded to … remove … Brown Ben?”

“As Daario Naharis once removed the other captains of the Stormcrows?” The old knight looked uncomfortable. “Perhaps. I would not know, Your Grace.”

No, she thought, you are too honest and too honorable. “If not, the Yunkai’i employ three other companies.”

“Rogues and cutthroats, scum of a hundred battlefields,” Ser Barristan warned, “with captains full as treacherous as Plumm.”

“I am only a young girl and know little of such things, but it seems to me that we want them to be treacherous. Once, you’ll recall, I convinced the Second Sons and Stormcrows to join us.”

“If Your Grace wishes a privy word with Gylo Rhegan or the Tattered Prince, I could bring them up to your apartments.”

“This is not the time. Too many eyes, too many ears. Their absence would be noted even if you could separate them discreetly from the Yunkai’i. We must find some quieter way of reaching out to them … not tonight, but soon.”

[...] “Our prisoners,” suggested Dany. “The Westerosi who came over from the Windblown with the three Dornishmen. We still have them in cells, do we not? Use them.”

“Free them, you mean? Is that wise? They were sent here to worm their way into your trust, so they might betray Your Grace at the first chance.”

[...] “We can still use them. One was a woman. Meris. Send her back, as a … a gesture of my regard. If their captain is a clever man, he will understand.”

“The woman is the worst of all.”

“All the better.” Dany considered a moment. “We should sound out the Long Lances too. And the Company of the Cat.”

“Bloodbeard.” Ser Barristan’s frown deepened. “If it please Your Grace, we want no part of him. Your Grace is too young to remember the Ninepenny Kings, but this Bloodbeard is cut from the same savage cloth. There is no honor in him, only hunger … for gold, for glory, for blood.”

“You know more of such men than me, ser.” If Bloodbeard might be truly the most dishonorable and greedy of the sellswords, he might be the easiest to sway, but she was loath to go against Ser Barristan’s counsel in such matters. “Do as you think best. But do it soon. If Hizdahr’s peace should break, I want to be ready. I do not trust the slavers.” I do not trust my husband. “They will turn on us at the first sign of weakness.”

[...] [“]Set Pretty Meris free. At once.”

~

Her king was laughing with Yurkhaz zo Yunzak and the other Yunkish lords. Dany did not think that he would miss her, but just in case she instructed her handmaids to tell him that she was answering a call of nature, should he inquire after her.

~

Martell’s square face was flushed and ruddy. Too much wine, the queen concluded, though he was doing his best to conceal that.

~

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

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

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

~

“You … you mean to ride them?”

“One of them. All I know of dragons is what my brother told me when I was a girl, and some I read in books, but it is said that even Aegon the Conqueror never dared mount Vhagar or Meraxes, nor did his sisters ride Balerion the Black Dread. Dragons live longer than men, some for hundreds of years, so Balerion had other riders after Aegon died … but no rider ever flew two dragons.”

~

He does not belong here. He should never have come. “You ought to return there. My court is no safe place for you, I fear. You have more enemies than you know. You made Daario look a fool, and he is not a man to forget such a slight.”

“I have my knights. My sworn shields.”

“Two knights. Daario has five hundred Stormcrows. And you would do well to beware of my lord husband too. He seems a mild and pleasant man, I know, but do not be deceived. Hizdahr’s crown derives from mine, and he commands the allegiance of some of the most fearsome fighters in the world. If one of them should think to win his favor by disposing of a rival …”

“I am a prince of Dorne, Your Grace. I will not run from slaves and sell swords.”

Then you truly are a fool, Prince Frog.

ADWD Daenerys VII

It was close to sunset before Daario Naharis appeared with his new Stormcrows, the Westerosi who had come over to him from the Windblown. Dany found herself glancing at them as yet another petitioner droned on and on. These are my people. I am their rightful queen. They seemed a scruffy bunch, but that was only to be expected of sellswords. The youngest could not have been more than a year older than her; the oldest must have seen sixty namedays. A few sported signs of wealth: gold arm rings, silken tunics, silverstudded sword belts. Plunder. For the most part, their clothes were plainly made and showed signs of hard wear.

~

“If it please Your Grace, we are all three knights.”

Dany glanced at Daario and saw anger flash across his face. He did not know. “I have need of knights,” she said.

~

“Three liars,” Daario said darkly. “They deceived me.”

“And bought you too, I do not doubt.” He did not trouble to deny it.

ADWD Daenerys VI

“Irri, bring the green tokar, the silk one fringed with Myrish lace.”

“That one is being repaired, Khaleesi. The lace was torn. The blue tokar has been cleaned.”

“Blue, then. They will be just as pleased.”

She was only half-wrong. The priestess and the seneschal were happy to see her garbed in a tokar, a proper Meereenese lady for once, but what they really wanted was to strip her bare.

ADWD Daenerys V

Ser Barristan remained. “Our stores are ample for the moment,” he reminded her, “and Your Grace has planted beans and grapes and wheat. Your Dothraki have harried the slavers from the hills and struck the shackles from their slaves. They are planting too, and will be bringing their crops to Meereen to market. And you will have the friendship of Lhazar.”

~

Skahaz was convinced that somewhere in Meereen the Sons of the Harpy had a highborn overlord, a secret general commanding an army of shadows. Dany did not share his belief. The Brazen Beasts had taken dozens of the Harpy’s Sons, and those who had survived their capture had yielded names when questioned sharply … too many names, it seemed to her. It would have been pleasant to think that all the deaths were the work of a single enemy who might be caught and killed, but Dany suspected that the truth was otherwise. My enemies are legion. “Hizdahr zo Loraq is a persuasive man with many friends. And he is wealthy. Perhaps he has bought this peace for us with gold, or convinced the other highborn that our marriage is in their best interests.”

~

“It is good that you have come,” she told the Astapori. “You will be safe in Meereen.”

The cobbler thanked her for that, and the old brickmaker kissed her foot, but the weaver looked at her with eyes as hard as slate. She knows I lie, the queen thought. She knows I cannot keep them safe. Astapor is burning, and Meereen is next.

~

“What do you counsel, ser?”

“Battle,” said Ser Barristan. “Meereen is overcrowded and full of hungry mouths, and you have too many enemies within. We cannot long withstand a siege, I fear. Let me meet the foe as he comes north, on ground of my own choosing.”

“Meet the foe,” she echoed, “with the freedmen you’ve called half-trained and unblooded.”

“We were all unblooded once, Your Grace. The Unsullied will help stiffen them. If I had five hundred knights …”

“Or five. And if I give you the Unsullied, I will have no one but the Brazen Beasts to hold Meereen.”

[...] “I cannot fight two enemies, one within and one without. If I am to hold Meereen, I must have the city behind me. The whole city. I need … I need …” She could not say it.

“Your Grace?” Ser Barristan prompted, gently.

A queen belongs not to herself but to her people.

“I need Hizdahr zo Loraq.”

ADWD Daenerys IV

If I wed Hizdahr, will that turn Skahaz against me? She trusted Skahaz more than she trusted Hizdahr, but the Shavepate would be a disaster as a king. He was too quick to anger, too slow to forgive. She saw no gain in wedding a man as hated as herself. Hizdahr was well respected, so far as she could see.

~

“You know why you are here. The Green Grace seems to feel that if I take you for my husband, all my woes will vanish.”

“I would never make so bold a claim. Men are born to strive and suffer. Our woes only vanish when we die. I can be of help to you, however. I have gold and friends and influence, and the blood of Old Ghis flows in my veins. Though I have never wed, I have two natural children, a boy and a girl, so I can give you heirs. I can reconcile the city to your rule and put an end to this nightly slaughter in the streets.”

“Can you?” Dany studied his eyes. “Why should the Sons of the Harpy lay down their knives for you? Are you one of them?”

“No.”

“Would you tell me if you were?”

He laughed. “No.”

~

The Shavepate will not be happy with me, but Reznak mo Reznak will dance for joy. Dany did not know which of those concerned her more. She needed Skahaz and the Brazen Beasts, and she had come to mistrust all of Reznak’s counsel. Beware the perfumed seneschal. Has Reznak made common cause with Hizdahr and the Green Grace and set some trap to snare me?

~

“Ninety days is a long time. Hizdahr may fail. And if he does, the trying buys me time. Time to make alliances, to strengthen my defenses, to—”

“And if he does not fail? What will Your Grace do then?”

“Her duty.”

~

Daario. Her heart gave a flutter in her chest. “How long has … when did he …?” She could not seem to get the words out.

Ser Barristan seemed to understand.

~

“... a dozen of the Long Lances decided they would sooner be Stormcrows than corpses, so we came out three ahead. I told them they would live longer fighting with your dragons than against them, and they saw the wisdom in my words.”

That made her wary. “They might be spying for Yunkai.”

ADWD Daenerys III

Reznak mo Reznak’s mouth was open, and his lips glistened wetly as he watched. Hizdahr zo Loraq was saying something to the man beside him, yet all the time his eyes were on the dancing girls. The Shavepate’s ugly, oily face was as stern as ever, but he missed nothing.

It was harder to know what her honored guest was dreaming.

~

In his honor Daenerys had donned a Qartheen gown, a sheer confection of violet samite cut so as to leave her left breast bare. Her silver-gold hair brushed lightly over her shoulder, falling almost to her nipple. Half the men in the hall had stolen glances at her, but not Xaro. It was the same in Qarth. She could not sway the merchant prince that way. Sway him I must, however.

~

“I am glad you came to me. It is good to see your face again, my friend.” I will not trust you, but I need you. I need your Thirteen, I need your ships, I need your trade.

~

In Qarth, you had three bloodriders who never left your side. Wherever have they gone?”

“Aggo, Jhoqo, and Rakharo still serve me.” He is playing games with me. Dany could play as well.

~

Dany knew him too well to be moved. Qartheen men could weep at will. “Oh, stop that.” She took a cherry from the bowl on the table and threw it at his nose. “I may be a young girl, but I am not so foolish as to wed a man who finds a fruit platter more enticing than my breast. I saw which dancers you were watching.”

~

“[...] A ditch, to bring water from the river to the fields. We mean to plant beans. The beanfields must have water.”

“[...] Meereen needs beans more than it needs rare spices, and beans require water.”

~

“...The ships are yours, sweet queen. Thirteen galleys, and men to pull the oars.”

Thirteen. To be sure. Xaro was one of the Thirteen. No doubt he had convinced each of his fellow members to give up one ship. She knew the merchant prince too well to think that he would sacrifice thirteen of his own ships. “I must consider this. May I inspect these ships?”

“You have grown suspicious, Daenerys.”

Always. “I have grown wise, Xaro.”

~

“for young and strong as you now seem, you shall not live so long. Not here.”

He offers the honeycomb with one hand and shows the whip with the other. “The Yunkai’i are not so fearsome as all that.”  

~

“Some other night.” His mouth was sad, but his eyes seemed more relieved than disappointed.

~

“A map? It is beautiful.” It covered half the floor. The seas were blue, the lands were green, the mountains black and brown. Cities were shown as stars in gold or silver thread. There is no Smoking Sea, she realized. Valyria is not yet an island.

~

“...Take these ships and sail away, or you will surely die screaming. You cannot know how many enemies you have made.”

I know one stands before me now, weeping mummer’s tears. The realization made her sad.

~

The next morning Xaro’s galleas was gone, but the “gift” that he had brought her remained behind in Slaver’s Bay. Long red streamers flew from the masts of the thirteen Qartheen galleys, writhing in the wind. And when Daenerys descended to hold court, a messenger from the ships awaited her. He spoke no word but laid at her feet a black satin pillow, upon which rested a single bloodstained glove.

“What is this?” Skahaz demanded. “A bloody glove …”

“… means war,” said the queen.

ADWD Daenerys II

“I will have no more Unsullied slaughtered. Grey Worm, pull your men back to their barracks. Henceforth let them guard my walls and gates and person. From this day, it shall be for Meereenese to keep the peace in Meereen. Skahaz, make me a new watch, made up in equal parts of shavepates and freedmen.”

“As you command. How many men?”

“As many as you require.”

Reznak mo Reznak gasped. “Magnificence, where is the coin to come from to pay wages for so many men?”

“From the pyramids. Call it a blood tax. I will have a hundred pieces of gold from every pyramid for each freedman that the Harpy’s Sons have slain.”

That brought a smile to the Shavepate’s face. “It will be done,” he said, “but Your Radiance should know that the Great Masters of Zhak and Merreq are making preparations to quit their pyramids and leave the city.”

Daenerys was sick unto death of Zhak and Merreq; she was sick of all the Mereenese, great and small alike. “Let them go, but see that they take no more than the clothes upon their backs. Make certain that all their gold remains here with us. Their stores of food as well.”

~

Her name had been Hazzea. She was four years old. Unless her father lied. He might have lied. No one had seen the dragon but him. His proof was burned bones, but burned bones proved nothing. He might have killed the little girl himself, and burned her afterward. He would not have been the first father to dispose of an unwanted girl child, the Shavepate claimed. The Sons of the Harpy might have done it, and made it look like dragon’s work to make the city hate me. Dany wanted to believe that … but if that was so, why had Hazzea’s father waited until the audience hall was almost empty to come forward? If his purpose had been to inflame the Meereenese against her, he would have told his tale when the hall was full of ears to hear.

ADWD Daenerys I

“Soldiers, not warriors, if it please Your Grace. They were made for the battlefield, to stand shoulder to shoulder behind their shields with their spears thrust out before them. Their training teaches them to obey, fearlessly, perfectly, without thought or hesitation ... not to unravel secrets or ask questions.”

“Would knights serve me any better?” Selmy was training knights for her, teaching the sons of slaves to fight with lance and longsword in the Westerosi fashion ... but what good would lances do against cowards who killed from the shadows?

“Not in this,” the old man admitted. “And Your Grace has no knights, save me. It will be years before the boys are ready.”

“Then who, if not Unsullied? Dothraki would be even worse.” Dothraki fought from horseback. Mounted men were of more use in open fields and hills than in the narrow streets and alleys of the city.

~

Dany had dispatched her tiny khalasar to subdue the hinterlands, under the command of her three bloodriders, whilst Brown Ben Plumm took his Second Sons south to guard against Yunkish incursions.

The most crucial task of all she had entrusted to Daario Naharis, glib-tongued Daario with his gold tooth and trident beard, smiling his wicked smile through purple whiskers. Beyond the eastern hills was a range of rounded sandstone mountains, the Khyzai Pass, and Lhazar. If Daario could convince the Lhazarene to reopen the overland trade routes, grains could be brought down the river or over the hills at need … but the Lamb Men had no reason to love Meereen. “When the Stormcrows return from Lhazar, perhaps I can use them in the streets,” she told Ser Barristan, “but until then I have only the Unsullied.”

~

Dragons are fire made flesh. She had read that in one of the books Ser Jorah had given her as a wedding gift. 

~

By shaving, Skahaz had put old Meereen behind him to accept the new, and his kin had done the same after his example. Others followed, though whether from fear, fashion, or ambition, Dany could not say; shavepates, they were called.

~

I need this man, Dany reminded herself. Hizdahr was a wealthy merchant with many friends in Meereen, and more across the seas. He had visited Volantis, Lys, and Qarth, had kin in Tolos and Elyria, and was even said to wield some influence in New Ghis, where the Yunkai’i were trying to stir up enmity against Dany and her rule.

And he was rich. Famously and fabulously rich ...

And like to grow richer, if I grant his petition. When Dany had closed the city’s fighting pits, the value of pit shares had plummeted. Hizdahr zo Loraq had grabbed them up with both hands, and now owned most of the fighting pits in Meereen.

The nobleman had wings of wiry red-black hair sprouting from his temples. They made him look as if his head were about to take flight. His long face was made even longer by a beard bound with rings of gold. His purple tokar was fringed with amethysts and pearls.

~

“If Your Majesty will hear my arguments ...”

“I have. Five times. Have you brought new arguments?”

“Old arguments,” Hizdahr admitted, “new words. Lovely words, and courteous, more apt to move a queen.”

“It is your cause I find wanting, not your courtesies. I have heard your arguments so often I could plead your case myself. Shall I?” Dany leaned forward. “The fighting pits have been a part of Meereen since the city was founded. The combats are profoundly religious in nature, a blood sacrifice to the gods of Ghis. The mortal art of Ghis is not mere butchery but a display of courage, skill, and strength most pleasing to your gods. Victorious fighters are pampered and acclaimed, and the slain are honored and remembered. By reopening the pits I would show the people of Meereen that I respect their ways and customs. The pits are far-famed across the world. They draw trade to Meereen, and fill the city’s coffers with coin from the ends of the earth. All men share a taste for blood, a taste the pits help slake. In that way they make Meereen more tranquil. For criminals condemned to die upon the sands, the pits represent a judgment by battle, a last chance for a man to prove his innocence.” She leaned back again, with a toss of her head. “There. How have I done?”

“Your Radiance has stated the case much better than I could have hoped to do myself. I see that you are eloquent as well as beautiful. I am quite persuaded.”

She had to laugh. “Ah, but I am not.”

~

“Your Magnificence,” whispered Reznak mo Reznak in her ear, “it is customary for the city to claim one-tenth of all the profits from the fighting pits, after expenses, as a tax. That coin might be put to many noble uses.” 

 “It might … though if we were to reopen the pits, we should take our tenth before expenses. I am only a young girl and know little of such matters, but I dwelt with Xaro Xhoan Daxos long enough to learn that much. Hizdahr, if you could marshal armies as you marshal arguments, you could conquer the world … but my answer is still no. For the sixth time.”

~

She nibbled whilst she listened, and sipped from a cup of watered wine. The figs were fine, the olives even finer, but the wine left a tart metallic aftertaste in her mouth. The small pale yellow grapes native to these regions produced a notably inferior vintage. We shall have no trade in wine. Besides, the Great Masters had burned the best arbors along with the olive trees. 

~

“Three-and-twenty.” Dany sighed. “My dragons have developed a prodigious taste for mutton since we began to pay the shepherds for their kills. Have these claims been proven?” 

“Some men have brought burnt bones.” 

“Men make fires. Men cook mutton. Burnt bones prove nothing. Brown Ben says there are red wolves in the hills outside the city, and jackals and wild dogs. Must we pay good silver for every lamb that goes astray between Yunkai and the Skahazadhan?” 

“No, Magnificence.” Reznak bowed. “Shall I send these rascals away, or will you want them scourged?” 

Daenerys shifted on the bench. “No man should ever fear to come to me.” Some claims were false, she did not doubt, but more were genuine. Her dragons had grown too large to be content with rats and cats and dogs. The more they eat, the larger they will grow, Ser Barristan had warned her, and the larger they grow, the more they’ll eat. Drogon especially ranged far afield and could easily devour a sheep a day. “Pay them for the value of their animals,” she told Reznak, “but henceforth claimants must present themselves at the Temple of the Graces and swear a holy oath before the gods of Ghis.”

A Storm of Swords

ASOS Daenerys VI

No one was calling her Daenerys the Conqueror yet, but perhaps they would. Aegon the Conqueror had won Westeros with three dragons, but she had taken Meereen with sewer rats and a wooden cock, in less than a day. Poor Groleo. He still grieved for his ship, she knew. If a war galley could ram another ship, why not a gate? That had been her thought when she commanded the captains to drive their ships ashore. Their masts had become her battering rams, and swarms of freedmen had torn their hulls apart to build mantlets, turtles, catapults, and ladders. The sellwords had given each ram a bawdy name, and it had been the mainmast of Meraxes—formerly Joso’s Prank—that had broken the eastern gate. Joso’s Cock, they called it. The fighting had raged bitter and bloody for most of a day and well into the night before the wood began to splinter and Meraxes’ iron figurehead, a laughing jester’s face, came crashing through.

Dany had wanted to lead the attack herself, but to a man her captains said that would be madness, and her captains never agreed on anything. Instead she remained in the rear, sitting atop her silver in a long shirt of mail. She heard the city fall from half a league away, though, when the defenders’ shouts of defiance changed to cries of fear. Her dragons had roared as one in that moment, filling the night with flame. The slaves are rising, she knew at once. My sewer rats have gnawed off their chains.

When the last resistance had been crushed by the Unsullied and the sack had run its course, Dany entered her city. The dead were heaped so high before the broken gate that it took her freedmen near an hour to make a path for her silver. Joso’s Cock and the great wooden turtle that had protected it, covered with horsehides, lay abandoned within. She rode past burned buildings and broken windows, through brick streets where the gutters were choked with the stiff and swollen dead. Cheering slaves lifted bloodstained hands to her as she went by, and called her “Mother.”

~

Meereen had been sacked savagely, as new-fallen cities always were, but Dany was determined that should end now that the city was hers. She had decreed that murderers were to be hanged, that looters were to lose a hand, and rapists their manhood. Eight killers swung from the walls, and the Unsullied had filled a bushel basket with bloody hands and soft red worms, but Meereen was calm again. But for how long?

~

“It shall be done as you command, glorious queen,” said Daario. “My Stormcrows will collect your tenth.” If the Stormcrows saw to the collections at least half the gold would somehow go astray, Dany knew. But the Second Sons were just as bad, and the Unsullied were as unlettered as they were incorruptible. “Records must be kept,” she said. “Seek among the freedmen for men who can read, write, and do sums.” 

~

While Joso’s Cock and the other rams were battering the city gates and her archers were firing flights of flaming arrows over the walls, Dany had sent two hundred men along the river under cover of darkness to fire the hulks in the harbor. But that was only to hide their true purpose. As the flaming ships drew the eyes of the defenders on the walls, a few half- mad swimmers found the sewer mouths and pried loose a rusted iron grating. Ser Jorah, Ser Barristan, Strong Belwas, and twenty brave fools slipped beneath the brown water and up the brick tunnel, a mixed force of sellswords, Unsullied, and freedmen. Dany had told them to choose only men who had no families ... and preferably no sense of smell.

~

“You are trembling, Khaleesi,” the girl said as she knelt to lace up Dany’s sandals.

“I’m cold,” Dany lied. “Bring me the book I was reading last night.” She wanted to lose herself in the words, in other times and other places. The fat leather-bound volume was full of songs and stories from the Seven Kingdoms. Children’s stories, if truth be told; too simple and fanciful to be true history. All the heroes were tall and handsome, and you could tell the traitors by their shifty eyes. Yet she loved them all the same. Last night she had been reading of the three princesses in the red tower, locked away by the king for the crime of being beautiful.

ASOS Daenerys V

Her bloodriders were in such a fever to go meet him that they almost came to blows. “Blood of my blood,” Dany told them, “your place is here by me. This man is a buzzing fly, no more. Ignore him, he will soon be gone.” Aggo, Jhogo, and Rakharo were brave warriors, but they were young, and too valuable to risk. They kept her khalasar together, and were her best scouts too.

~

Meereen posed dangers far more serious than one pink-and-white hero shouting insults, and she could not let herself be distracted. Her host numbered more than eighty thousand after Yunkai, but fewer than a quarter of them were soldiers. The rest ... well, Ser Jorah called them mouths with feet, and soon they would be starving.

~

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

“It’s his city I want, not his meager manhood.” She was growing angry, however. If I ignore this any longer, my own people will think me weak. Yet who could she send? She needed Daario as much as she did her bloodriders. Without the flamboyant Tyroshi, she had no hold on the Stormcrows, many of whom had been followers of Prendahl na Ghezn and Sallor the Bald.

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

“This challenge must be met,” Arstan said again.

“It will be.” Dany said, as the hero tucked his penis away again. “Tell Strong Belwas I have need of him.”

[...] “Why that one, Khaleesi?” Rakharo demanded of her. “He is fat and stupid.”

“Strong Belwas was a slave here in the fighting pits. If this highborn Oznak should fall to such the Great Masters will be shamed, while if he wins ... well, it is a poor victory for one so noble, one that Meereen can take no pride in.” And unlike Ser Jorah, Daario, Brown Ben, and her three bloodriders, the eunuch did not lead troops, plan battles, or give her counsel. He does nothing but eat and boast and bellow at Arstan. Belwas was the man she could most easily spare. And it was time she learned what sort of protector Magister Illyrio had sent her.

~

“We should have given him chainmail,” Dany said, suddenly anxious.

“Mail would only slow him,” said Ser Jorah. “They wear no armor in the fighting pits. It’s blood the crowds come to see.”

~

Oznak zo Pahl charged a third time, and now Dany could see plainly that he was riding past Belwas, the way a Westerosi knight might ride at an opponent in a tilt, rather than at him, like a Dothraki riding down a foe.

~

“Given time, we might be able to mine beneath a tower and make a breach, but what do we eat while we’re digging? Our stores are all but exhausted.”

“No weakness in the landward walls?” said Dany. Meereen stood on a jut of sand and stone where the slow brown Skahazadhan flowed into Slaver’s Bay. The city’s north wall ran along the riverbank, its west along the bay shore. “Does that mean we might attack from the river or the sea?”

“With three ships? We’ll want to have Captain Groleo take a good look at the wall along the river, but unless it’s crumbling that’s just a wetter way to die.”

“What if we were to build siege towers? My brother Viserys told tales of such, I know they can be made.”

“From wood, Your Grace,” Ser Jorah said. “The slavers have burnt every tree within twenty leagues of here.[”]

~

“These sewers do not sound promising.” Grey Worm would lead his Unsullied down the sewers if she commanded it, she knew; her bloodriders would do no less. But none of them was suited to the task. The Dothraki were horsemen, and the strength of the Unsullied was their discipline on the battlefield. Can I send men to die in the dark on such a slender hope?

~

“Where shall we go, Your Grace?”

“To hell, to serve King Robert.” Dany felt hot tears on her cheeks. [...] “You go ...” [...] “You go ... go ...” Where?

And then she knew.

ASOS Daenerys IV

Dany reined in her mare and looked across the fields, to where the Yunkish host lay athwart her path. Whitebeard had been teaching her how best to count the numbers of a foe. "Five thousand," she said after a moment.

~

Dany considered. The slaver host seemed small compared to her own numbers, but the sellswords were ahorse. She’d ridden too long with Dothraki not to have a healthy respect for what mounted warriors could do to foot. The Unsullied could withstand their charge, but my freedmen will be slaughtered. “The slavers like to talk,” she said. “Send word that I will hear them this evening in my tent. And invite the captains of the sellsword companies to call on me as well. But not together. The Stormcrows at midday, the Second Sons two hours later.”

“As you wish,” Ser Jorah said. “But if they do not come—”

“They’ll come. They will be curious to see the dragons and hear what I might have to say, and the clever ones will see it for a chance to gauge my strength.” She wheeled her silver mare about. “I’ll await them in my pavilion.”

~

“You took Astapor by treachery, but Yunkai shall not fall so easily.”

“Five hundred of your Stormcrows against ten thousand of my Unsullied,” said Dany. “I am only a young girl and do not understand the ways of war, yet these odds seem poor to me.”

“The Stormcrows do not stand alone,” said Prendahl.

“Stormcrows do not stand at all. They fly, at the first sign of thunder. Perhaps you should be flying now. I have heard that sellswords are notoriously unfaithful. What will it avail you to be staunch, when the Second Sons change sides?”

“That will not happen,” Prendahl insisted, unmoved. “And if it did, it would not matter. The Second Sons are nothing. We fight beside the stalwart men of Yunkai.”

“You fight beside bed-boys armed with spears.” When she turned her head, the twin bells in her braid rang softly. “Once battle is joined, do not think to ask for quarter. Join me now, however, and you shall keep the gold the Yunkai’i paid you and claim a share of the plunder besides, with greater rewards later when I come into my kingdom. Fight for the Wise Masters, and your wages will be death. Do you imagine that Yunkai will open its gates when my Unsullied are butchering you beneath the walls?”

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

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

~

“What say you take those clothes off and come sit on my lap? If you please me, I might bring the Second Sons over to your side.”

“If you bring the Second Sons over to my side, I might not have you gelded.”

The big man laughed. “Little girl, another woman once tried to geld me with her teeth. She has no teeth now, but my sword is as long and thick as ever. Shall I take it out and show you?”

“No need. After my eunuchs cut it off, I can examine it at my leisure.” Dany took a sip of wine. “It is true that I am only a young girl, and do not know the ways of war. Explain to me how you propose to defeat ten thousand Unsullied with your five hundred. Innocent as I am, these odds seem poor to me.”

“The Second Sons have faced worse odds and won.”

“The Second Sons have faced worse odds and run. At Qohor, when the Three Thousand made their stand. Or do you deny it?”

“That was many and more years ago, before the Second Sons were led by the Titan’s Bastard.”

“So it is from you they get their courage?” Dany turned to Ser Jorah. “When the battle is joined, kill this one first.”

~

Dany seated herself on a mound of cushions to await them, her dragons all about her. When they were assembled, she said, “An hour past midnight should be time enough.”

“Yes, Khaleesi,” said Rakharo. “Time for what?”

“To mount our attack.”

Ser Jorah Mormont scowled. “You told the sellswords—”

“—that I wanted their answers on the morrow. I made no promises about tonight. The Stormcrows will be arguing about my offer. The Second Sons will be drunk on the wine I gave Mero. And the Yunkai’i believe they have three days. We will take them under cover of this darkness.”

“They will have scouts watching for us.”

“And in the dark, they will see hundreds of campfires burning,” said Dany. “If they see anything at all.”

“Khaleesi,” said Jhogo, “I will deal with these scouts. They are no riders, only slavers on horses.”

“Just so,” she agreed. “I think we should attack from three sides. Grey Worm, your Unsullied shall strike at them from right and left, while my kos lead my horse in wedge for a thrust through their center. Slave soldiers will never stand before mounted Dothraki.” She smiled. “To be sure, I am only a young girl and know little of war. What do you think, my lords?”

“I think you are Rhaegar Targaryen’s sister,” Ser Jorah said with a rueful half smile.

“Aye,” said Arstan Whitebeard, “and a queen as well.”    

~

“A spy?” That frightened her. If they’d caught one, how many others might have gotten away?

~

Dany was dubious. If this Tyroshi had come to spy, this declaration might be no more than a desperate plot to save his head.

~

“Keep this one here under guard until the battle’s fought and won.”

She considered a moment, then shook her head. “If he can give us the Stormcrows, surprise is certain.”

“And if he betrays you, surprise is lost.”

Dany looked down at the sellsword again. He gave her such a smile that she flushed and turned away. “He won’t.”

“How can you know that?”

She pointed to the lumps of blackened flesh the dragons were consuming, bite by bloody bite. “I would call that proof of his sincerity. Daario Naharis, have your Stormcrows ready to strike the Yunkish rear when my attack begins. Can you get back safely?”

“If they stop me, I will say I have been scouting, and saw nothing.” The Tyroshi rose to his feet, bowed, and swept out.

~

The exile knight went to one knee before Dany and said, “Your Grace, I bring you victory. The Stormcrows turned their cloaks, the slaves broke, and the Second Sons were too drunk to fight, just as you said. Two hundred dead, Yunkai’i for the most part. Their slaves threw down their spears and ran, and their sellswords yielded. We have several thousand captives.”

“Our own losses?”

“A dozen. If that many.”

Only then did she allow herself to smile.

ASOS Daenerys III

She had chosen a Qartheen gown today. The deep violet silk brought out the purple of her eyes. The cut of it bared her left breast. While the Good Masters of Astapor conferred among themselves in low voices, Dany sipped tart persimmon wine from a tall silver flute. She could not quite make out all that they were saying, but she could hear the greed.

Each of the eight brokers was attended by two or three body slaves ... though one Grazdan, the eldest, had six. So as not to seem a beggar, Dany had brought her own attendants; Irri and Jhiqui in their sandsilk trousers and painted vests, old Whitebeard and mighty Belwas, her bloodriders. Ser Jorah stood behind her sweltering in his green surcoat with the black bear of Mormont embroidered upon it. The smell of his sweat was an earthy answer to the sweet perfumes that drenched the Astapori.

~

Dany let them argue, sipping the tart persimmon wine and trying to keep her face blank and ignorant. I will have them all, no matter the price, she told herself. The city had a hundred slave traders, but the eight before her were the greatest. When selling bed slaves, fieldhands, scribes, craftsmen, and tutors, these men were rivals, but their ancestors had allied one with the other for the purpose of making and selling the Unsullied. Brick and blood built Astapor, and brick and blood her people.

~

“Tell them I await their answer.”

She knew the answer, though; she could see it in the glitter of their eyes and the smiles they tried so hard to hide. Astapor had thousands of eunuchs, and even more slave boys waiting to be cut, but there were only three living dragons in all the great wide world. And the Ghiscari lust for dragons. How could they not? Five times had Old Ghis contended with Valyria when the world was young, and five times gone down to bleak defeat. For the Freehold had dragons, and the Empire had none.

~

Dany turned away from him, to the slave girl standing meekly beside her litter. “Do you have a name, or must you draw a new one every day from some barrel?”

“That is only for Unsullied,” the girl said. Then she realized the question had been asked in High Valyrian. Her eyes went wide. “Oh.”

~

“If I did resell them, how would I know they could not be used against me?” Dany asked pointedly. “Would they do that? Fight against me, even do me harm?”

“If their master commanded. They do not question, Your Grace. All the questions have been culled from them. They obey.” She looked troubled. “When you are ... when you are done with them ... your Grace might command them to fall upon their swords.”

“And even that, they would do?”


“Yes.” Missandei’s voice had grown soft. “Your Grace.”

Dany squeezed her hand. “You would sooner I did not ask it of them, though. Why is that? Why do you care?”

“This one does not ... I ... Your Grace ... ”


“Tell me.”


The girl lowered her eyes. “Three of them were my brothers once, Your Grace.”

Then I hope your brothers are as brave and clever as you.

~

The rest of her people followed: Groleo and the other captains and their crews, and the eighty-three Dothraki who remained to her of the hundred thousand who had once ridden in Drogo’s khalasar. She put the oldest and weakest on the inside of the column, with the nursing women and those with child, and the little girls, and the boys too young to braid their hair. The rest—her warriors, such as they were—rode outside and moved their dismal herd along, the hundred-odd gaunt horses that had survived both red waste and black salt sea.

~

I ought to have a banner sewn, she thought as she led her tattered band up along Astapor’s meandering river. She closed her eyes to imagine how it would look: all flowing black silk, and on it the red three-headed dragon of Targaryen, breathing golden flames. A banner such as Rhaegar might have borne.

~

At first glimpse, Dany thought their skin was striped like the zorses of the Jogos Nhai.

~

Dany handed the slaver the end of Drogon’s chain. In return he presented her with the whip. The handle was black dragonbone, elaborately carved and inlaid with gold. Nine long thin leather lashes trailed from it, each one tipped by a gilded claw. The gold pommel was a woman’s head, with pointed ivory teeth. “The harpy’s fingers,” Kraznys named the scourge.

Dany turned the whip in her hand. Such a light thing, to bear such weight. “Is it done, then? Do they belong to me?”

“It is done,” he agreed, giving the chain a sharp pull to bring Drogon down from the litter.

Dany mounted her silver. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She felt desperately afraid. Was this what my brother would have done? She wondered if Prince Rhaegar had been this anxious when he saw the Usurper’s host formed up across the Trident with all their banners floating on the wind.

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

She glimpsed old Grazdan turn his grey head sharply. He hears me speak Valyrian. The other slavers were not listening. They crowded around Kraznys and the dragon, shouting advice. Though the Astapori yanked and tugged, Drogon would not budge off the litter. Smoke rose grey from his open jaws, and his long neck curled and straightened as he snapped at the slaver’s face.

It is time to cross the Trident, Dany thought, as she wheeled and rode her silver back. Her bloodriders moved in close around her. “You are in difficulty,” she observed.

“He will not come,” Kraznys said.

“There is a reason. A dragon is no slave.” And Dany swept the lash down as hard as she could across the slaver’s face. Kraznys screamed and staggered back, the blood running red down his cheeks into his perfumed beard. The harpy’s fingers had torn his features half to pieces with one slash, but she did not pause to contemplate the ruin. “Drogon,” she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. “Dracarys.”

The black dragon spread his wings and roared.

A lance of swirling dark flame took Kraznys full in the face. His eyes melted and ran down his cheeks, and the oil in his hair and beard burst so fiercely into fire that for an instant the slaver wore a burning crown twice as tall as his head. The sudden stench of charred meat overwhelmed even his perfume, and his wail seemed to drown all other sound.

Then the Plaza of Punishment blew apart into blood and chaos. The Good Masters were shrieking, stumbling, shoving one another aside and tripping over the fringes of their tokars in their haste. Drogon flew almost lazily at Kraznys, black wings beating. As he gave the slaver another taste of fire, Irri and Jhiqui unchained Viserion and Rhaegal, and suddenly there were three dragons in the air. When Dany turned to look, a third of Astapor’s proud demon-horned warriors were fighting to stay atop their terrified mounts, and another third were fleeing in a bright blaze of shiny copper. One man kept his saddle long enough to draw a sword, but Jhogo’s whip coiled about his neck and cut off his shout. Another lost a hand to Rakharo’s arakh and rode off reeling and spurting blood. Aggo sat calmly notching arrows to his bowstring and sending them at tokars. Silver, gold, or plain, he cared nothing for the fringe. Strong Belwas had his arakh out as well, and he spun it as he charged.

“Spears!” Dany heard one Astapori shout. It was Grazdan, old Grazdan in his tokar heavy with pearls. “Unsullied! Defend us, stop them, defend your masters! Spears! Swords!”

When Rakharo put an arrow through his mouth, the slaves holding his sedan chair broke and ran, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground. The old man crawled to the first rank of eunuchs, his blood pooling on the bricks. The Unsullied did not so much as look down to watch him die. Rank on rank on rank, they stood.

And did not move. The gods have heard my prayer.

“Unsullied!” Dany galloped before them, her silver-gold braid flying behind her, her bell chiming with every stride. “Slay the Good Masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who wears a tokar or holds a whip, but harm no child under twelve, and strike the chains off every slave you see.” She raised the harpy’s fingers in the air ... and then she flung the scourge aside. “Freedom!” she sang out. “Dracarys! Dracarys!”

“Dracarys!” they shouted back, the sweetest word she’d ever heard. “Dracarys! Dracarys!” And all around them slavers ran and sobbed and begged and died, and the dusty air was filled with spears and fire.

ASOS Daenerys II

The harpy of Ghis, Dany thought. Old Ghis had fallen five thousand years ago, if she remembered true; its legions shattered by the might of young Valyria, its brick walls pulled down, its streets and buildings turned to ash and cinder by dragonflame, its very fields sown with salt, sulfur, and skulls. The gods of Ghis were dead, and so too its people; these Astapori were mongrels, Ser Jorah said. Even the Ghiscari tongue was largely forgotten; the slave cities spoke the High Valyrian of their conquerors, or what they had made of it.

Yet the symbol of the Old Empire still endured here, though this bronze monster had a heavy chain dangling from her talons, an open manacle at either end. The harpy of Ghis had a thunderbolt in her claws. This is the harpy of Astapor.

~

“They might be adequate to my needs,” Dany answered. It had been Ser Jorah’s suggestion that she speak only Dothraki and the Common Tongue while in Astapor. My bear is more clever than he looks.

~

The girls followed close behind with the silk awning, to keep her in the shade, but the thousand men before her enjoyed no such protection. More than half had the copper skins and almond eyes of Dothraki and Lhazerene, but she saw men of the Free Cities in the ranks as well, along with pale Qartheen, ebon-faced Summer Islanders, and others whose origins she could not guess. And some had skins of the same amber hue as Kraznys mo Nakloz, and the bristly red-black hair that marked the ancient folk of Ghis, who named themselves the harpy’s sons.

~

“The Good Master has said that these eunuchs cannot be tempted with coin or flesh,” Dany told the girl, “but if some enemy of mine should offer them freedom for betraying me ...”

“They would kill him out of hand and bring her his head, tell her that,” the slaver answered. “Other slaves may steal and hoard up silver in hopes of buying freedom, but an Unsullied would not take it if the little mare offered it as a gift. They have no life outside their duty. They are soldiers, and that is all.”

~

“You have lived long in the world, Whitebeard. Now that you have seen them, what do you say?”

“I say no, Your Grace,” the old man answered at once.


“Why?” she asked. “Speak freely.” Dany thought she knew what he would say, but she wanted the slave girl to hear, so Kraznys mo Nakloz might hear later.

~

An old city, this, she reflected, but not so populous as it was in its glory, nor near so crowded as Qarth or Pentos or Lys.

Her litter came to a sudden halt at the cross street, to allow a coffle of slaves to shuffle across her path, urged along by the crack of an overseer’s lash. These were no Unsullied, Dany noted, but a more common sort of men, with pale brown skins and black hair. There were women among them, but no children. All were naked.

~

“You speak of sacking cities. Answer me this, ser—why have the Dothraki never sacked this city?” She pointed. “Look at the walls. You can see where they’ve begun to crumble. There, and there. Do you see any guards on those towers? I don’t. Are they hiding, ser? I saw these sons of the harpy today, all their proud highborn warriors. They dressed in linen skirts, and the fiercest thing about them was their hair. Even a modest khalasar could crack this Astapor like a nut and spill out the rotted meat inside. So tell me, why is that ugly harpy not sitting beside the godsway in Vaes Dothrak among the other stolen gods?”

“You have a dragon’s eye, Khaleesi, that’s plain to see.”

“I wanted an answer, not a compliment.”

“There are two reasons. Astapor’s brave defenders are so much chaff, it’s true. Old names and fat purses who dress up as Ghiscari scourges to pretend they still rule a vast empire. Every one is a high officer. On feastdays they fight mock wars in the pits to demonstrate what brilliant commanders they are, but it’s the eunuchs who do the dying. All the same, any enemy wanting to sack Astapor would have to know that they’d be facing Unsullied. The slavers would turn out the whole garrison in the city’s defense. The Dothraki have not ridden against Unsullied since they left their braids at the gates of Qohor.”

“And the second reason?” Dany asked.

“Who would attack Astapor?” Ser Jorah asked. “Meereen and Yunkai are rivals but not enemies, the Doom destroyed Valyria, the folk of the eastern hinterlands are all Ghiscari, and beyond the hills lies Lhazar. The Lamb Men, as your Dothraki call them, a notably unwarlike people.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but north of the slave cities is the Dothraki sea, and two dozen mighty khals who like nothing more than sacking cities and carrying off their people into slavery.”

“Carrying them off where? What good are slaves once you’ve killed the slavers? Valyria is no more, Qarth lies beyond the red waste, and the Nine Free Cities are thousands of leagues to the west. And you may be sure the sons of the harpy give lavishly to every passing khal, just as the magisters do in Pentos and Norvos and Myr. They know that if they feast the horselords and give them gifts, they will soon ride on. It’s cheaper than fighting, and a deal more certain.”

ASOS Daenerys I

“His Grace was ... often pleasant.”

“Often?” Dany smiled. “But not always?”


~

[“] A change in the wind may bring the gift of victory.” He glanced at Ser Jorah. “Or a lady’s favor knotted round an arm.”

Mormont’s face darkened. “Be careful what you say, old man.”

Arstan had seen Ser Jorah fight at Lannisport, Dany knew, in the tourney Mormont had won with a lady’s favor knotted round his arm. He had won the lady too; Lynesse of House Hightower, his second wife, highborn and beautiful ... but she had ruined him, and abandoned him, and the memory of her was bitter to him now. “Be gentle, my knight.” She put a hand on Jorah’s arm. “Arstan had no wish to give offense, I’m certain.”

~

“A queen must listen to all,” she reminded him. “The highborn and the low, the strong and the weak, the noble and the venal. One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found.” She had read that in a book.

~

“Hear my voice then, Your Grace,” the exile said. “This Arstan Whitebeard is playing you false. He is too old to be a squire, and too well spoken to be serving that oaf of a eunuch.”

That does seem queer, Dany had to admit. Strong Belwas was an ex-slave, bred and trained in the fighting pits of Meereen. Magister Illyrio had sent him to guard her, or so Belwas claimed, and it was true that she needed guarding. The Usurper on his Iron Throne had offered land and lordship to any man who killed her. One attempt had been made already, with a cup of poisoned wine. The closer she came to Westeros, the more likely another attack became. Back in Qarth, the warlock Pyat Pree had sent a Sorrowful Man after her to avenge the Undying she’d burned in their House of Dust. Warlocks never forgot a wrong, it was said, and the Sorrowful Men never failed to kill. Most of the Dothraki would be against her as well. Khal Drogo’s kos led khalasars of their own now, and none of them would hesitate to attack her own little band on sight, to slay and slave her people and drag Dany herself back to Vaes Dothrak to take her proper place among the withered crones of the dosh khaleen. She hoped that Xaro Xhoan Daxos was not an enemy, but the Qartheen merchant had coveted her dragons. And there was Quaithe of the Shadow, that strange woman in the red lacquer mask with all her cryptic counsel. Was she an enemy too, or only a dangerous friend? Dany could not say.

Ser Jorah saved me from the poisoner, and Arstan Whitebeard from the manticore. Perhaps Strong Belwas will save me from the next. He was huge enough, with arms like small trees and a great curved arakh so sharp he might have shaved with it, in the unlikely event of hair sprouting on those smooth brown cheeks. Yet he was childlike as well. As a protector, he leaves much to be desired. Thankfully, I have Ser Jorah and my bloodriders. And my dragons, never forget.

~

She took a chunk of salt pork out of the bowl in her lap and held it up for her dragons to see. All three of them eyed it hungrily. Rhaegal spread green wings and stirred the air, and Viserion’s neck swayed back and forth like a long pale snake’s as he followed the movement of her hand. “Drogon,” Dany said softly, “dracarys.” And she tossed the pork in the air.

Drogon moved quicker than a striking cobra. Flame roared from his mouth, orange and scarlet and black, searing the meat before it began to fall. As his sharp black teeth snapped shut around it, Rhaegal’s head darted close, as if to steal the prize from his brother’s jaws, but Drogon swallowed and screamed, and the smaller green dragon could only hiss in frustration.

“Stop that, Rhaegal,” Dany said in annoyance, giving his head a swat.

“You had the last one. I’ll have no greedy dragons.” She smiled at Ser Jorah. “I won’t need to char their meat over a brazier any longer.”

“So I see. Dracarys?”

All three dragons turned their heads at the sound of that word, and Viserion let loose with a blast of pale gold flame that made Ser Jorah take a hasty step backward. Dany giggled. “Be careful with that word, ser, or they’re like to singe your beard off. It means ‘dragonfire’ in High Valyrian. I wanted to choose a command that no one was like to utter by chance.”

~

“It seems to me that a queen who trusts no one is as foolish as a queen who trusts everyone. Every man I take into my service is a risk, I understand that, but how am I to win the Seven Kingdoms without such risks? Am I to conquer Westeros with one exile knight and three Dothraki bloodriders?”

~

“What is there for me in Slaver’s Bay?”

“An army,” said Ser Jorah. “If Strong Belwas is so much to your liking you can buy hundreds more like him out of the fighting pits of Meereen ... but it is Astapor I’d set my sails for. In Astapor you can buy Unsullied.”

[...] “That is what you will find in Astapor, Your Grace. Put ashore there, and continue on to Pentos overland. It will take longer, yes ... but when you break bread with Magister Illyrio, you will have a thousand swords behind you, not just four.”

There is wisdom in this, yes, Dany thought, but ... “How am I to buy a thousand slave soldiers? All I have of value is the crown the Tourmaline Brotherhood gave me.”

“Dragons will be as great a wonder in Astapor as they were in Qarth. It may be that the slavers will shower you with gifts, as the Qartheen did. If not ... these ships carry more than your Dothraki and their horses. They took on trade goods at Qarth, I’ve been through the holds and seen for myself. Bolts of silk and bales of tiger skin, amber and jade carvings, saffron, myrrh ... slaves are cheap, Your Grace. Tiger skins are costly.”

“Those are Illyrio’s tiger skins,” she objected. 

“And Illyrio is a friend to House Targaryen.” 

“All the more reason not to steal his goods.”

“What use are wealthy friends if they will not put their wealth at your disposal, my queen? If Magister Illyrio would deny you, he is only Xaro Xhoan Daxos with four chins. And if he is sincere in his devotion to your cause, he will not begrudge you three shiploads of trade goods. What better use for his tiger skins than to buy you the beginnings of an army?”

That’s true. Dany felt a rising excitement. “There will be dangers on such a long march ...”

“There are dangers at sea as well. Corsairs and pirates hunt the southern route, and north of Valyria the Smoking Sea is demon- haunted. The next storm could sink or scatter us, a kraken could pull us under ... or we might find ourselves becalmed again, and die of thirst as we wait for the wind to rise. A march will have different dangers, my queen, but none greater.”

“What if Captain Groleo refuses to change course, though? And Arstan, Strong Belwas, what will they do?”

Ser Jorah stood. “Perhaps it’s time you found that out.”

“Yes,” she decided. “I’ll do it!”

A Clash of Kings

ACOK Daenerys V

Pale men in dusty linen skirts stood beneath arched doorways to watch them pass. They know who I am, and they do not love me. Dany could tell from the way they looked at her.

~

“...Give me a son, my sweet song of joy!”

Give you a dragon, you mean. “I will not wed you, Xaro.”

His face had grown cold at that. “Then go.”

“But where?”

“Somewhere far from here.”

~

Perhaps she had lingered in Qarth too long, seduced by its comforts and its beauties. It was a city that always promised more than it would give you, it seemed to her, and her welcome here had turned sour since the House of the Undying had collapsed in a great gout of smoke and flame. Overnight the Qartheen had come to remember that dragons were dangerous. No longer did they vie with each other to give her gifts. Instead the Tourmaline Brotherhood had called openly for her expulsion, and the Ancient Guild of Spicers for her death. It was all Xaro could do to keep the Thirteen from joining them.

~

Xaro Xhoan Daxos would be no help to her, she knew that now. For all his professions of devotion, he was playing his own game, not unlike Pyat Pree. The night he asked her to leave, Dany had begged one last favor of him. “An army, is it?” Xaro asked. “A kettle of gold? A galley, perhaps?”

Dany blushed. She hated begging. “A ship, yes.”

Xaro’s eyes had glittered as brightly as the jewels in his nose. “I am a trader, Khaleesi. So perhaps we should speak no more of giving, but rather of trade. For one of your dragons, you shall have ten of the finest ships in my fleet. You need only say that one sweet word.”

“No,” she said.

“Alas,” Xaro sobbed, “that was not the word I meant.”

“Would you ask a mother to sell one of her children?”

“Whyever not? They can always make more. Mothers sell their children every day.”

“Not the Mother of Dragons.”

“Not even for twenty ships?”

“Not for a hundred.”

His mouth curled downward. “I do not have a hundred. But you have three dragons. Grant me one, for all my kindnesses. You will still have two and thirty ships as well.”

Thirty ships would be enough to land a small army on the shore of Westeros. But I do not have a small army. “How many ships do you own, Xaro?”

“Eighty-three, if one does not count my pleasure barge.” “And your colleagues in the Thirteen?”
“Among us all, perhaps a thousand.”
“And the Spicers and the Tourmaline Brotherhood?” “Their trifling fleets are of no account.”

“Even so,” she said, “tell me.”

“Twelve or thirteen hundred for the Spicers. No more than eight hundred for the Brotherhood.”

“And the Asshai’i, the Braavosi, the Summer Islanders, the Ibbenese, and all the other peoples who sail the great salt sea, how many ships do they have? All together?”

“Many and more,” he said irritably. “What does this matter?”

“I am trying to set a price on one of the three living dragons in the world.” Dany smiled at him sweetly. “It seems to me that one-third of all the ships in the world would be fair.”

Xaro’s tears ran down his cheeks on either side of his jewel-encrusted nose. “Did I not warn you not to enter the Palace of Dust? This is the very thing I feared. The whispers of the warlocks have made you as mad as Mallarawan’s wife. A third of all the ships in the world? Pah. Pah, I say. Pah.”

Dany had not seen him since. His seneschal brought her messages, each cooler than the last. She must quit his house. He was done feeding her and her people. He demanded the return of his gifts, which she had accepted in bad faith. Her only consolation was that at least she’d had the great good sense not to marry him.

~

Dany would get no help from the Thirteen, the Tourmaline Brotherhood, or the Ancient Guild of Spicers.

~

The Usurper offered a lordship to the man who kills me, and these two are far from home. Or could they be creatures of the warlocks, meant to take me unawares?

~

“A most excellent brass, great lady,” the merchant exclaimed. “Bright as the sun! And for the Mother of Dragons, only thirty honors.”

The platter was worth no more than three. “Where are my guards?” Dany declared. “This man is trying to rob me!”

~

“Thirty? Did I say thirty? Such a fool I am. The price is twenty honors.”

“All the brass in this booth is not worth twenty honors,” Dany told him as she studied the reflections.

~

“Ten, Khaleesi, because you are so lovely. Use it for a looking glass. Only brass this fine could capture such beauty.”

“It might serve to carry nightsoil. If you threw it away, I might pick it up, so long as I did not need to stoop. But pay for it?” Dany shoved the platter back into his hands. “Worms have crawled up your nose and eaten your wits.”

“Eight honors,” he cried. “My wives will beat me and call me fool, but I am a helpless child in your hands. Come, eight, that is less than it is worth.”

“What do I need with dull brass when Xaro Xhoan Daxos feeds me off plates of gold?”

~

The brass merchant came hopping after them. “Five honors, for five it is yours, it was meant for you.”

~

The other man wore a traveler’s cloak of undyed wool, the hood thrown back. Long white hair fell to his shoulders, and a silky white beard covered the lower half of his face. He leaned his weight on a hardwood staff as tall as he was. Only fools would stare so openly if they meant me harm. All the same, it might be prudent to head back toward Jhogo and Aggo. “The old man does not wear a sword,” she said to Jorah in the Common Tongue as she drew him away.

~

“Four! I know you want it!” He danced in front of them, scampering backward as he thrust the platter at their faces.

~

“Two honors! Two! Two!” The merchant was panting heavily from the effort of running backward.

“Pay him before he kills himself,” Dany told Ser Jorah, wondering what she was going to do with a huge brass platter.

~

“Put down your steel! Stop it!”

“Your Grace?” Mormont lowered his sword only an inch. “These men attacked you.”

“They were defending me.” Dany snapped her hand to shake the sting from her fingers. “It was the other one, the Qartheen.” When she looked around he was gone. “He was a Sorrowful Man. There was a manticore in that jewel box he gave me. This man knocked it out of my hand.”

~

“We were told to find you and bring you back to Pentos. The Seven Kingdoms have need of you. Robert the Usurper is dead, and the realm bleeds. When we set sail from Pentos there were four kings in the land, and no justice to be had.”

Joy bloomed in her heart, but Dany kept it from her face.

ACOK Daenerys III

She was garbed after the Qartheen fashion. Xaro had warned her that the Enthroned would never listen to a Dothraki, so she had taken care to go before them in flowing green samite with one breast bared, silvered sandals on her feet, with a belt of black-and-white pearls about her waist. For all the help they offered, I could have gone naked. Perhaps I should have. She drank deep.

~

Descendants of the ancient kings and queens of Qarth, the Pureborn commanded the Civic Guard and the fleet of ornate galleys that ruled the straits between the seas. Daenerys Targaryen had wanted that fleet, or part of it, and some of their soldiers as well. She made the traditional sacrifice in the Temple of Memory, offered the traditional bribe to the Keeper of the Long List, sent the traditional persimmon to the Opener of the Door, and finally received the traditional blue silk slippers summoning her to the Hall of a Thousand Thrones.

~

“Come with me to the Arbor, Xaro, and you’ll have the finest vintages you ever tasted. But we’ll need to go in a warship, not a pleasure barge.”

“I have no warships. War is bad for trade. Many times I have told you, Xaro Xhoan Daxos is a man of peace.”

Xaro Xhoan Daxos is a man of gold, she thought, and gold will buy me all the ships and swords I need. “I have not asked you to take up a sword, only to lend me your ships.”

He smiled modestly. “Of trading ships I have a few, that is so. Who can say how many? One may be sinking even now, in some stormy corner of the Summer Sea. On the morrow, another will fall afoul of corsairs. The next day, one of my captains may look at the wealth in his hold and think, All this should belong to me. Such are the perils of trade. Why, the longer we talk, the fewer ships I am likely to have. I grow poorer by the instant.”

“Give me ships, and I will make you rich again.”

“Marry me, bright light, and sail the ship of my heart. I cannot sleep at night for thinking of your beauty.”

Dany smiled. Xaro’s flowery protestations of passion amused her, but his manner was at odds with his words. While Ser Jorah had scarcely been able to keep his eyes from her bare breast when he’d helped her into the palanquin, Xaro hardly deigned to notice it, even in these close confines. And she had seen the beautiful boys who surrounded the merchant prince, flitting through his palace halls in wisps of silk. “You speak sweetly, Xaro, but under your words I hear another no.”

~

“The Milk Men shun him. Khaleesi, do you see the girl in the felt hat? There, behind the fat priest. She is a—”

“—cutpurse,” finished Dany. She was no pampered lady, blind to such things. She had seen cutpurses aplenty in the streets of the Free Cities, during the years she’d spent with her brother, running from the Usurper’s hired knives.

~

Dany looked uneasily at where the ladder had stood. Even the smoke was gone now, and the crowd was breaking up, each man going about his business. In a moment more than a few would find their purses flat and empty.

ACOK Daenerys II

“Qarth is the greatest city that ever was or ever will be,” Pyat Pree had told her, back amongst the bones of Vaes Tolorro. [...]

Dany took the warlock’s words well salted, but the magnificence of the great city was not to be denied.

~

“I do not understand her.” Pyat and Xaro had showered Dany with promises from the moment they first glimpsed her dragons, declaring themselves her loyal servants in all things, but from Quaithe she had gotten only the rare cryptic word. And it disturbed her that she had never seen the woman’s face. Remember Mirri Maz Duur, she told herself. Remember treachery. She turned to her bloodriders. “We will keep our own watch so long as we are here. See that no one enters this wing of the palace without my leave, and take care that the dragons are always well guarded.”

“It shall be done, Khaleesi,” Aggo said.

“We have seen only the parts of Qarth that Pyat Pree wished us to see,” she went on. “Rakharo, go forth and look on the rest, and tell me what you find. Take good men with you—and women, to go places where men are forbidden.”

“As you say, I do, blood of my blood,” said Rakharo.

~

“Ser Jorah, find the docks and see what manner of ships lay at anchor. It has been half a year since I last heard tidings from the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps the gods will have blown some good captain here from Westeros with a ship to carry us home.”

The knight frowned. “That would be no kindness. The Usurper will kill you, sure as sunrise.” Mormont hooked his thumbs through his swordbelt. “My place is here at your side.”

“Jhogo can guard me as well. You have more languages than my bloodriders, and the Dothraki mistrust the sea and those who sail her. Only you can serve me in this. Go among the ships and speak to the crews, learn where they are from and where they are bound and what manner of men command them.”

~

“Khaleesi,” the knight said when they were alone, “I should not speak so freely of your plans, if I were you. This man will spread the tale wherever he goes now.”

“Let him,” she said. “Let the whole world know my purpose. The Usurper is dead, what does it matter?”

“Not every sailor’s tale is true,” Ser Jorah cautioned, “and even if Robert be truly dead, his son rules in his place. This changes nothing, truly.”

“This changes everything.” Dany rose abruptly. Screeching, her dragons uncoiled and spread their wings. Drogon flapped and clawed up to the lintel over the archway. The others skittered across the floor, wingtips scrabbling on the marble. “Before, the Seven Kingdoms were like my Drogo’s khalasar, a hundred thousand made as one by his strength. Now they fly to pieces, even as the khalasar did after my khal lay dead.”

“The high lords have always fought. Tell me who’s won and I’ll tell you what it means. Khaleesi, the Seven Kingdoms are not going to fall into your hands like so many ripe peaches. You will need a fleet, gold, armies, alliances—”

“All this I know.” She took his hands in hers and looked up into his dark suspicious eyes.

Sometimes he thinks of me as a child he must protect, and sometimes as a woman he would like to bed, but does he ever truly see me as his queen? “I am not the frightened girl you met in Pentos. I have counted only fifteen name days, true ... but I am as old as the crones in the dosh khaleen and as young as my dragons, Jorah. I have borne a child, burned a khal, and crossed the red waste and the Dothraki sea. Mine is the blood of the dragon.”

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

“I am not Viserys.”

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

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

ACOK Daenerys I

She dare not turn north onto the vast ocean of grass they called the Dothraki sea. The first khalasar they met would swallow up her ragged band, slaying the warriors and slaving the rest. The lands of the Lamb Men south of the river were likewise closed to them. They were too few to defend themselves even against that unwarlike folk, and the Lhazareen had small reason to love them. She might have struck downriver for the ports at Meereen and Yunkai and Astapor, but Rakharo warned her that Pono’s khalasar had ridden that way, driving thousands of captives before them to sell in the flesh marts that festered like open sores on the shores of Slaver’s Bay.

~

“Ghosts,” Irri muttered. “Terrible ghosts. We must not stay here, Khaleesi, this is their place.”

“I fear no ghosts. Dragons are more powerful than ghosts.” And figs are more important. 

~

“...Nothing mattered but our love, I told myself. We fled to Lys, where I sold my ship for gold to keep us.”

His voice was thick with grief, and Dany was reluctant to press him any further, yet she had to know how it ended. “Did she die there?” she asked him gently.

~

“What shall we seek, Khaleesi?” asked Jhogo.

“Whatever there is,” Dany answered. “Seek for other cities, living and dead. Seek for caravans and people. Seek for rivers and lakes and the great salt sea. Find how far this waste extends before us, and what lies on the other side. When I leave this place, I do not mean to strike out blind again. I will know where I am bound, and how best to get there.”

~

Dany gave him charge of a dozen of her strongest men, and set them to pulling up the plaza to get to the earth beneath. If devilgrass could grow between the paving stones, other grasses would grow when the stones were gone. They had wells enough, no lack of water. Given seed, they could make the plaza bloom.

~

Dany thanked him and told him to see to the repair of the gates. If enemies had crossed the waste to destroy these cities in ancient days, they might well come again. “If so, we must be ready,” she declared.

A Game of Thrones

AGOT Daenerys X

“I thank you, Mirri Maz Duur,” she said, “for the lessons you have taught me.”

“You will not hear me scream,” Mirri responded as the oil dripped from her hair and soaked her clothing.

“I will,” Dany said, “but it is not your screams I want, only your life. I remember what you told me. Only death can pay for life.” Mirri Maz Duur opened her mouth, but made no reply. As she stepped away, Dany saw that the contempt was gone from the maegi’s flat black eyes; in its place was something that might have been fear. Then there was nothing to be done but watch the sun and look for the first star.

When a horselord dies, his horse is slain with him, so he might ride proud into the night lands. The bodies are burned beneath the open sky, and the khal rises on his fiery steed to take his place among the stars. The more fiercely the man burned in life, the brighter his star will shine in the darkness.

Jhogo spied it first. “There,” he said in a hushed voice. Dany looked and saw it, low in the east. The first star was a comet, burning red. Bloodred; fire red; the dragon’s tail. She could not have asked for a stronger sign.

~

She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough. The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought. Mirri Maz Duur had fallen silent. The godswife thought her a child, but children grow, and children learn.

[...] Now, she thought, now, and for an instant she glimpsed Khal Drogo before her, mounted on his smoky stallion, a flaming lash in his hand. He smiled, and the whip snaked down at the pyre, hissing.

She heard a crack, the sound of shattering stone. The platform of wood and brush and grass began to shift and collapse in upon itself. Bits of burning wood slid down at her, and Dany was showered with ash and cinders. And something else came crashing down, bouncing and rolling, to land at her feet; a chunk of curved rock, pale and veined with gold, broken and smoking. The roaring filled the world, yet dimly through the firefall Dany heard women shriek and children cry out in wonder.

Only death can pay for life.

And there came a second crack, loud and sharp as thunder, and the smoke stirred and whirled around her and the pyre shifted, the logs exploding as the fire touched their secret hearts. She heard the screams of frightened horses, and the voices of the Dothraki raised in shouts of fear and terror, and Ser Jorah calling her name and cursing. No, she wanted to shout to him, no, my good knight, do not fear for me. The fire is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE? With a belch of flame and smoke that reached thirty feet into the sky, the pyre collapsed and came down around her. Unafraid, Dany stepped forward into the firestorm, calling to her children.

The third crack was as loud and sharp as the breaking of the world.

When the fire died at last and the ground became cool enough to walk upon, Ser Jorah Mormont found her amidst the ashes, surrounded by blackened logs and bits of glowing ember and the burnt bones of man and woman and stallion. She was naked, covered with soot, her clothes turned to ash, her beautiful hair all crisped away ... yet she was unhurt.

The cream-and-gold dragon was suckling at her left breast, the green-and-bronze at the right. Her arms cradled them close. The black-and-scarlet beast was draped across her shoulders, its long sinuous neck coiled under her chin. When it saw Jorah, it raised its head and looked at him with eyes as red as coals.

Wordless, the knight fell to his knees. The men of her khas came up behind him. Jhogo was the first to lay his arakh at her feet. “Blood of my blood,” he murmured, pushing his face to the smoking earth. “Blood of my blood,” she heard Aggo echo. “Blood of my blood,” Rakharo shouted.

And after them came her handmaids, and then the others, all the Dothraki, men and women and children, and Dany had only to look at their eyes to know that they were hers now, today and tomorrow and forever, hers as they had never been Drogo’s.

As Daenerys Targaryen rose to her feet, her black hissed, pale smoke venting from its mouth and nostrils. The other two pulled away from her breasts and added their voices to the call, translucent wings unfolding and stirring the air, and for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons.

AGOT Daenerys IX

“The khal lives,” Irri answered quietly ... yet Dany saw a darkness in her eyes when she said the words, and no sooner had she spoken than she rushed away to fetch water.

~

My son is dead, she thought as Jhiqui left the tent. She had known somehow. She had known since she woke the first time to Jhiqui’s tears. No, she had known before she woke. Her dream came back to her, sudden and vivid, and she remembered the tall man with the copper skin and long silver-gold braid, bursting into flame.

She should weep, she knew, yet her eyes were dry as ash. She had wept in her dream, and the tears had turned to steam on her cheeks. All the grief has been burned out of me, she told herself. She felt sad, and yet ... she could feel Rhaego receding from her, as if he had never been.

~

“Princess, are you well? Should you be up, weak as you are?”

“Weak? I am strong, Jorah.” To please him, she reclined on a pile of cushions. “Tell me how my child died.”

“He never lived, my princess. The women say ...” He faltered, and Dany saw how the flesh hung loose on him, and the way he limped when he moved.

“Tell me. Tell me what the women say.”
[...]

“They say the child was ...”

[...] “Monstrous,” Mirri Maz Duur finished for him. The knight was a powerful man, yet Dany understood in that moment that the maegi was stronger, and crueler, and infinitely more dangerous.

AGOT Daenerys VIII

“We have ridden far enough today. We will camp here.”

“Here?” Haggo looked around them. The land was brown and sere, inhospitable. “This is no camping ground.”

“It is not for a woman to bid us halt,” said Qotho, “not even a khaleesi.”

“We camp here,” Dany repeated. “Haggo, tell them Khal Drogo commanded the halt. If any ask why, say to them that my time is near and I could not continue. Cohollo, bring up the slaves, they must put up the khal’s tent at once. Qotho—”

~

Irri wanted to leave the tent flaps open to let in the breeze, but Dany forbade it. She would not have any see Drogo this way, in delirium and weakness. When her khas came up, she posted them outside at guard. “Admit no one without my leave,” she told Jhogo. “No one.”

~

“Khaleesi,” Jhiqui said, “he fell from his horse.”

Trembling, her eyes full of sudden tears, Dany turned away from them. He fell from his horse! It was so, she had seen it, and the bloodriders, and no doubt her handmaids and the men of her khas as well. And how many more? They could not keep it secret, and Dany knew what that meant. A khal who could not ride could not rule, and Drogo had fallen from his horse.

~

Mirri Maz Duur had no use for the carcass. “Burn it,” Dany told them. It was what they did, she knew. When a man died, his mount was killed and placed beneath him on the funeral pyre, to carry him to the night lands. The men of her khas dragged the carcass from the tent.

~

“Take her to the maegi.”

No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see? Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.

[...] No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! she screamed. The dancers!

Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.

AGOT Daenerys VII

They were suspicious of her, she realized with sadness; afraid that she had saved them for some worse fate.

~

“Why should you want to help my khal?”


“All men are one flock, or so we are taught,” replied Mirri Maz Duur.

~

Drogo put a huge hand on her shoulder. She took some of his weight as they walked toward the great mud temple. The three bloodriders followed. Dany commanded Ser Jorah and the warriors of her khas to guard the entrance and make certain no one set the building afire while they were still inside.

AGOT Daenerys VI

Drogo would take his bloodriders and ride in search of hrakkar, the great white lion of the plains. If they returned triumphant, her lord husband’s joy would be fierce, and he might be willing to hear her out.

~

“I would still like to taste that summerwine you spoke of.”

The man bounded to his feet. “That? Dornish swill. It is not worthy of a princess. I have a dry red from the Arbor, crisp and delectable. Please, let me give you a cask.”

Khal Drogo’s visits to the Free Cities had given him a taste for good wine, and Dany knew that such a noble vintage would please him.

~

“You taste it first.”

“Me?” The man laughed. “I am not worthy of this vintage, my lord. And it’s a poor wine merchant who drinks up his own wares.” His smile was amiable, yet she could see the sheen of sweat on his brow.

“You will drink,” Dany said, cold as ice.

 AGOT Daenerys V

Her handmaids had helped her ready herself for the ceremony. Despite the tender mother’s stomach that had afflicted her these past two moons, Dany had dined on bowls of half-clotted blood to accustom herself to the taste, and Irri made her chew strips of dried horseflesh until her jaws were aching. She had starved herself for a day and a night before the ceremony in the hopes that hunger would help her keep down the raw meat.

~

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

~

Khal Drogo laid his hand on Dany’s arm. She could feel the tension in his fingers. Even a khal as mighty as Drogo could know fear when the dosh khaleen peered into smoke of the future. At her back, her handmaids fluttered anxiously.

~

The Dothraki eyed the sword as he passed; Dany heard curses and threats and angry muttering rising all around her, like a tide.

~

There were five thousand men in the hall, but only a handful who knew the Common Tongue. Yet even if his words were incomprehensible, you had only to look at him to know that he was drunk.

~

Her brother drew his sword.

[...] Dany gave a wordless cry of terror. She knew what a drawn sword meant here, even if her brother did not.

AGOT Daenerys IV

Viserys was less impressed. “The trash of dead cities,” he sneered. He was careful to speak in the Common Tongue, which few Dothraki could understand, yet even so Dany found herself glancing back at the men of her khas, to make certain he had not been overheard. He went on blithely. “All these savages know how to do is steal the things better men have built ... and kill.” He laughed. “They do know how to kill. Otherwise I’d have no use for them at all.”

“They are my people now,” Dany said. “You should not call them savages, brother.”

“The dragon speaks as he likes,” Viserys said ... in the Common Tongue.

~

“The princess must be presented to the dosh khaleen ...”

“The crones, yes,” her brother interrupted, “and there’s to be some mummer’s show of a prophecy for the whelp in her belly, you told me. What is that to me? I’m tired of eating horsemeat and I’m sick of the stink of these savages.” He sniffed at the wide, floppy sleeve of his tunic, where it was his custom to keep a sachet. It could not have helped much. The tunic was filthy. All the silk and heavy wools that Viserys had worn out of Pentos were stained by hard travel and rotted from sweat.

AGOT Daenerys III

The khal had commanded the handmaid Irri to teach Dany to ride in the Dothraki fashion, but it was the filly who was her real teacher. The horse seemed to know her moods, as if they shared a single mind. With every passing day, Dany felt surer in her seat. The Dothraki were a hard and unsentimental people, and it was not their custom to name their animals, so Dany thought of her only as the silver. She had never loved anything so much.

~

“Take his horse,” Dany commanded Ser Jorah. Viserys gaped at her. He could not believe what he was hearing; nor could Dany quite believe what she was saying. Yet the words came. “Let my brother walk behind us back to the khalasar.” Among the Dothraki, the man who does not ride was no man at all, the lowest of the low, without honor or pride. “Let everyone see him as he is.”

~

Dany rode along quietly for a time, working his words like a puzzle box. It went against everything that Viserys had ever told her to think that the people could care so little whether a true king or a usurper reigned over them. Yet the more she thought on Jorah’s words, the more they rang of truth.

[...] “My brother will never take back the Seven Kingdoms,” Dany said. She had known that for a long time, she realized. She had known it all her life. Only she had never let herself say the words, even in a whisper, but now she said them for Jorah Mormont and all the world to hear.

Ser Jorah gave her a measuring look. “You think not.”

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

~

Soon there would be laughter, when the men of her khas told the story of what had happened in the grasses today. By the time Viserys came limping back among them, every man, woman, and child in the camp would know him for a walker. There were no secrets in the khalasar.

~

“Have you ever seen a dragon?” she asked as Irri scrubbed her back and Jhiqui sluiced sand from her hair. She had heard that the first dragons had come from the east, from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai and the islands of the Jade Sea. Perhaps some were still living there, in realms strange and wild.

“Dragons are gone, Khaleesi,” Irri said.

“Dead,” agreed Jhiqui. “Long and long ago.”

Viserys had told her that the last Targaryen dragons had died no more than a century and a half ago, during the reign of Aegon III, who was called the Dragonbane. That did not seem so long ago to Dany. “Everywhere?” she said, disappointed. “Even in the east?” Magic had died in the west when the Doom fell on Valyria and the Lands of the Long Summer, and neither spell-forged steel nor stormsingers nor dragons could hold it back, but Dany had always heard that the east was different. It was said that manticores prowled the islands of the Jade Sea, that basilisks infested the jungles of Yi Ti, that spellsingers, warlocks, and aeromancers practiced their arts openly in Asshai, while shadowbinders and bloodmages worked terrible sorceries in the black of night. Why shouldn’t there be dragons too?

~

They were on the far side of the Dothraki sea when Jhiqui brushed the soft swell of Dany’s stomach with her fingers and said, “Khaleesi, you are with child.”

“I know,” Dany told her.

AGOT Daenerys II

There are no more dragons, Dany thought, staring at her brother, though she did not dare say it aloud.

~

Her brother Viserys gifted her with three handmaids. Dany knew they had cost him nothing; Illyrio no doubt had provided the girls.

~ “I shall treasure them always.” Dany had heard tales of such eggs, but she had never seen one, nor thought to see one. It was a truly magnificent gift, though she knew that Illyrio could afford to be lavish. He had collected a fortune in horses and slaves for his part in selling her to Khal Drogo.

~

A daring she had never known filled Daenerys then, and she gave the filly her head.

The silver horse leapt the flames as if she had wings.

AGOT Daenerys I

Her brother held the gown up for her inspection. “This is beauty. Touch it. Go on. Caress the fabric.”

Dany touched it. The cloth was so smooth that it seemed to run through her fingers like water. She could not remember ever wearing anything so soft. It frightened her. She pulled her hand away. “Is it really mine?”

“A gift from the Magister Illyrio,” Viserys said, smiling. Her brother was in a high mood tonight. “The color will bring out the violet in your eyes. And you shall have gold as well, and jewels of all sorts. Illyrio has promised. Tonight you must look like a princess.”

A princess, Dany thought. She had forgotten what that was like. Perhaps she had never really known. “Why does he give us so much?” she asked. “What does he want from us?” For nigh on half a year, they had lived in the magister’s house, eating his food, pampered by his servants. Dany was thirteen, old enough to know that such gifts seldom come without their price, here in the free city of Pentos.

“Illyrio is no fool,” Viserys said. He was a gaunt young man with nervous hands and a feverish look in his pale lilac eyes. “The magister knows that I will not forget my friends when I come into my throne.”

Dany said nothing. Magister Illyrio was a dealer in spices, gemstones, dragonbone, and other, less savory things. He had friends in all of the Nine Free Cities, it was said, and even beyond, in Vaes Dothrak and the fabled lands beside the Jade Sea. It was also said that he’d never had a friend he wouldn’t cheerfully sell for the right price. Dany listened to the talk in the streets, and she heard these things, but she knew better than to question her brother when he wove his webs of dream. His anger was a terrible thing when roused. Viserys called it “waking the dragon.”

~

Last of all came the collar, a heavy golden torc emblazoned with ancient Valyrian glyphs.

“Now you look all a princess,” the girl said breathlessly when they were done. Dany glanced at her image in the silvered looking glass that Illyrio had so thoughtfully provided. A princess, she thought, but she remembered what the girl had said, how Khal Drogo was so rich even his slaves wore golden collars. She felt a sudden chill, and gooseflesh pimpled her bare arms.

~

Dany could smell the stench of Illyrio’s pallid flesh through his heavy perfumes.

Her brother, sprawled out on his pillows beside her, never noticed. His mind was away across the narrow sea. “We won’t need his whole khalasar,” Viserys said. His fingers toyed with the hilt of his borrowed blade, though Dany knew he had never used a sword in earnest. “Ten thousand, that would be enough, I could sweep the Seven Kingdoms with ten thousand Dothraki screamers. The realm will rise for its rightful king. Tyrell, Redwyne, Darry, Greyjoy, they have no more love for the Usurper than I do. The Dornishmen burn to avenge Elia and her children. And the smallfolk will be with us. They cry out for their king.” He looked at Illyrio anxiously. “They do, don’t they?”

“They are your people, and they love you well,” Magister Illyrio said amiably. “In holdfasts all across the realm, men lift secret toasts to your health while women sew dragon banners and hide them against the day of your return from across the water.” He gave a massive shrug. “Or so my agents tell me.”

Dany had no agents, no way of knowing what anyone was doing or thinking across the narrow sea, but she mistrusted Illyrio’s sweet words as she mistrusted everything about Illyrio. Her brother was nodding eagerly, however. “I shall kill the Usurper myself,” he promised, who had never killed anyone, “as he killed my brother Rhaegar. And Lannister too, the Kingslayer, for what he did to my father.”

“That would be most fitting,” Magister Illyrio said. Dany saw the smallest hint of a smile playing around his full lips, but her brother did not notice. Nodding, he pushed back a curtain and stared off into the night, and Dany knew he was fighting the Battle of the Trident once again.

~

Dany noticed that her brother’s hand was clenched tightly around the hilt of his borrowed sword. He looked almost as frightened as she felt.

~

Magister Illyrio’s words were honey. “Many important men will be at the feast tonight. Such men have enemies. The khal must protect his guests, yourself chief among them, Your Grace. No doubt the Usurper would pay well for your head.”

“Oh, yes,” Viserys said darkly. “He has tried, Illyrio, I promise you that. His hired knives follow us everywhere. I am the last dragon, and he will not sleep easy while I live.”

The palanquin slowed and stopped. The curtains were thrown back, and a slave offered a hand to help Daenerys out. His collar, she noted, was ordinary bronze.

[saturnselkies]

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Continuation and the final part of the playlist Awakened in Starlight I did ages ago!! I hope you enjoy!! Under the read more is the story. Please do read!! 

Thank you for reading and listening, if you do.

ACT I: I could never sacrifice you

1. Sacrifice by Sharon Lyons

A tiny little sacrifice. Her mother would always say, for worlds to turn, some things would be lost among the space between galaxies.

Ouri was young back then, a much tinier dragon, much more impressionable. Now one sacrifice felt like touching a pulsating black hole.

The silver tree bloomed above Ouri. She dug her hands in the golden sand of the cosmos. By her feet the lifeless body of Najwa lied.

“Weaver of Worlds, you must let go.” The leaves echoed through the white room. “Fate beckons you, Scion. It is time.”

Golden magic blossomed on her fingertips and she felt a pang of frightening pain. “I’m sorry, mother. I’m sorry, Silver Tree. I’m sorry, Najwa.”

The room was a golden field, and death became life.

2. Across the Universe of Time by Hayley Westenra

“And the cold, cold wind, it blows me away The feeling all over is a black black day But I know that I’ll see you again And I know that you’re near me”

***

ACT II: I could never forget you

3. Light in Between by Abby Gundersen 

Najwa tried to forget. She really did. Tried to leave everything behind. To be forgotten amongst the cliffs of Desert Highlands.

Shame, sadness, anger; they danced underneath her skin every day. Her dreams were plagued with meadows blooming in the sunlight. Songs of ancient times.

Najwa wondered if other Awakened actually dreamed. Or if she had just ended up in a bizarre predicament. One that would forever be a mystery. Unless…

Unless she found Ouri.

Najwa gritted her teeth and patted Toffee’s back to try and distract herself. The summit wildhorn bleated and rested her head above Najwa’s. “Yeah, I know gal.”

4. God Only Knows by RAIGN

“I may not always love you But long as there are stars above you If you should ever leave me Though life would still go on Believe me”

***

ACT III: And so they dance between knives and lies

5. You Have to Let Go by Adam Fielding

“How could you!?” Najwa shouted. Her hands grabbing at Ouri’s Mordant Crescent outfit. A reminder so grim. A reminder so ugly.

“Najwa, I’m not who you think I am.” Ouri was visibly shaking. Forming words had become hard for her.

“Oh you think I don’t know? The display is sickening.” Najwa pushed Ouri against the wall with such force the nearby shelves shook. Ouri simply stood still, her eyes full of guilt.

“No, it’s not that.” She tried to relax her shoulders, but ultimately failed. Ouri knew bringing this up right now would be either an incredibly stupid idea, or completely destroy their chance of ever reconnecting. “I’m just… following a list of things to do.”

“This can’t be serious.” Najwa’s eyes were pure rage. “Was “Awakening” me part of the list!?“

“No… He didn’t do anything to you. I-” She swallowed hard. “I did.”

It took only a second for her eyes to lose the deep hazel color. Replaced by golden shades and cosmic hues. Ouri was the night sky. The far seeing cosmos. Written all over her skin.

Najwa stepped back in a daze. Her mind was a volcano erupting in the middle of the ocean. “What is going on.” Najwa stepped back as further as she could clinging to her scythe. If she still had a beating heart she knew it would have plummeted out of her chest by now.

“Spearmarshal. Najwa.” Ouri paused. And the universe watched them from the corners of the tapestry of time. “The list is what your people call a prophecy.”

The sudden realization hit Najwa like a crashing wave. All those cryptic dreams. All those shades of gold dancing at he back of her mind. The prairies of starlight. All of it. “Am I bound to you!? You did this to me!?”

“N-no! No! I cut the connection. Your will is your own.” Ouri quickly interjected. Panic was taking over her.

“How dare you!?” Najwa’s grab on her scythe was painfully tight. Tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“If it were not me. It would have been Palawa Joko! I didn’t want that!” Ouri pleaded. Pleaded to be understood between fate and choice. Between golden threads and shadows.

“You…” Najwa’s anger was like a bursting sun. Extinguishing a galaxy before it was even formed. “You are a monster. I regret the day I crossed paths with you.”

A sacrifice. A hole in the tapestry of time.

“I know.”

The birds did not sing that morning.

6. I Cannot Raise the Dead by The Dark Element

“In a time before us We were both someone else And we can be again We both let wrong one in To keep the right one out And now we’re both without”

***

ACT IV: Until tomorrow begins again

7. Heart Lying Still by Nightwish

The Domain of Kourna was even more dreadful than Najwa remembered; she ended up finding an empty building to sit on while the Sunspears were organizing the attack on Gandara.

She kept pulling at her attire. It felt strange to use the Sunspears’ dervish insignia again. But here she was, ready to help destroy the cause of all the pain in her home.

“Mother?” A voice came from the door.

“Yes, Khalida?” she responded lamely.

“Jeez, I thought you’d be happier. Is not seeing your daughter for the first time in eight years a good thing?” Khalida teased her, raising her eyebrow playfully.

“I- No. I’m sorry, hunbun.” Najwa panicked and tried to get up.

“Hey. I’m just teasing. I know all our wounds are still pretty fresh.” Khalida placed her hand over her mother’s shoulder, signalling her to sit back down.

“Yeah…” Najwa said.

Khalida sat next to her and hugged her knees. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Ha. I should be the one asking you that.” Najwa leaned her back against the wall. Her whole body was tense.

“C'mon, Mom. We might all just die in a few hours.” She elbowed her mother and grinned.

“Gods. When did you become so…” Najwa tried to find words to fill the gap of so many years lost. But nothing came up. She knew it would always be something hard to manage. “Never mind. I came to a conclusion. And I don’t like it.”

“Uhhhhh? Yeah? So early in the morning?” Khalida quipped.

She snorted at the comment. “You know, Ouri.”

“I do know her.”

“I might have said some really. Really. Upsetting things to her.” She shuddered remembering the last time they had talked. It was a chilling sonnet in the back of Najwa’s mind. “I was hurting. I still think she had no right to bring me back to life. But…”

“You see her point now?” Khalida said.

“Yeah… Being bound to Joko would have destroyed every fiber of my morals. I am still here. I am still mostly myself.” She looked at her hands and felt a spark of warmth. “I got to see you again.”

“Then you should tell her that,” Khalida simply offered.

“I think I should just let it go-”

“You did that for eight years.”

“And here I thought I was the mother.” She frowned and crossed her arms.

“Things change. I am a Spearmarshal now.” Khalida smiled.

8.To the Moon and Back by Moonlight Haze

“I still love you so bad To the moon and back and I Yes I miss you daily to the moon and back I’d go anywhere now To the moon and back for you Hope my voice will reach you To the moon and back Time cannot heal scars that lie so deep Inside this void of mine”

***

ACT V: I will cling to the heart between dawn and dusk

9. Between the Lines by Felix Räuber

Ouri and Najwa both stood across each other. The fortress sounded eerily silent after Aurene and the Commander had stopped Joko. Only the faint cheers in the distance, from both the dead and the living, could be heard.

Najwa took a deep breath and touched the grotesquely adorned walls. “This could have been my fate.”

Ouri eyes followed the other woman’s form. She bowed her head slightly, avoiding her gaze.

“I don’t know how I feel about everything that happened,” Najwa continued. “I even find it hard to believe that I am here.”

The former Spearmarshal dragged her feet through the tar. The oozing pools reflected her face in such a distorted manner. “Gross. I wouldn’t want to have this inside of me.” Najwa grimaced.

Ouri bit her lip, trying not to chuckle at the comment.

“Are you just gonna let me monologue?” Najwa pouted. “I remember you being a chatter box.”

“You said you wanted to talk…”

“Always a little too literal, are we?” Najwa walked over to Ouri. “It’s just. I… I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Fix what?” Ouri blinked. Her eyes were gold and shining. They contrasted the beautiful dark blues of her skin.

Much better outfit, Najwa caught herself staring at her curves. The essence of the stars painting her body was mesmerizing. Ouri titled her head at the slight pause.

Najwa coughed and tried to re-focus. “Us.”

Tentatively she reached out for Ouri’s hands. They were glowing in a flame-like effect. Najwa could swear they felt like what one would describe as the heart of the universe. Warm, cold, terrifying, and enticing all at the same time.

“The reason. The reason it hurt so much to know what you did. The reason it felt less of a burden if I was just another Awakened is…” She pushed back her tears. And squeezed the other woman’s hands. “Is because. I.”

“I love you.” Ouri cut her off.

Najwa didn’t need to ask. Najwa didn’t need to understand. Ouri was a Celestial. A Scion of a grand river of the cosmos. A life bearer. How could a life bearer leave someone to die. Someone she loved.

Yet disbelief still colored her blushing face.

“You. You love me?”

Ouri nodded.

Najwa should have known that from the first day they met. Ouri had always been a spark. The fountain of the gentle sun. Najwa connected their lips in a rush of emotion. Soft and willing. Somewhat rough and passionate, too. Full of regrets, mistakes, and guilt. Full of joy, love, and forgiveness.

“I love you, too. Gods, I do.”

Dusk and dawn danced together for the first time in a millennia.

10. Forever by Frozen Crown

“Find in light the essence of the night Say forever Forever Till the stars shine on our hearts Tides won’t last Our time is dying fast But this moment, our moment It will shine bright on our hearts”

***

ACT VI: Spearmarshal and Scion

11. Celestial Dreams by Rachel Currea

“So do I get an honorary Celestial membership?” Najwa’s hair sparkled against the wind. The grey tips had become glowing and golden much like her eyes.

“Well… if you want one.” Ouri laughed.

“Yes, I do.” She grinned widely. “Don’t tell the other Awakened, but this is so much cooler.”

12. Night Will Fade by Beyond the Black

“Somewhere beyond this world Far beyond this life Fate will raise our souls out of the past Somewhere beyond this day Night will fade away Will you follow my final words For tomorrow beyond this world”

13. Into a Dawn by Feridea

“I never let go, of my hopes and dreams I never was afraid, the road is free To find a star, to guide me through this twilight fall Into a dawn”

[insanityclause]

We few, we happy few who have somehow been granted this ridiculous power by our editors, have a most pressing question to examine: Which internet boyfriend, in all their regal glory, makes a hotter King Henry V of England?

Is it Timothée Chalamet’s boyish, bowl-cut king? Or Tom Hiddleston’s goatee-sporting, speech-spouting monarch?

There have been plenty of King Henrys (Hal, to his friends) before them — and there will undoubtedly be many after. But men like Kenneth Branagh and Laurence Olivier have never inspired the level of internet hysteria our beloved Timmy and Hiddles have — mostly by virtue of the fact that the height of their stardom came in a pre-Tumblr and Twitter age.  So, which Hal will it be?

Hiddleston has the benefit of running time – he portrayed Henry across BBC productions of Henry IV, Parts One and Two and Henry V back in 2012. Chalamet offers up his version of Hal in the nearly two-and-a-half-hour Netflix film The King, which debuted Nov. 1 on Netflix.

The King is not a Shakespeare adaptation, while Hiddleston’s turns as Henry are – but the Chalamet vehicle owes a heavy debt to the works of the Bard in both story structure and its central relationship between Hal and John Falstaff (an invention of Shakespeare’s based on a real historical figure, Sir John Oldcastle). But setting aside the stark differences in linguistic approach to storytelling, these two skinny snacks offer up distinctly different interpretations of the iconic English monarch — one sullen and introspective, the other more brash and showy.

The real Henry V was 27 when he ascended the English throne – Chalamet is now 23, while Hiddleston took on the part in his early thirties, so they split the difference on age proximity. The real Henry was, well, decidedly not hot. Unless you’re into bowl cuts and pencil-thin eyebrows. See: Exhibit A, below.                                                                                                                                                   This haircut is perhaps Chalamet’s downfall. The King strives for more historical accuracy than William Shakespeare (shocking, I know). About 40 minutes into the movie, they cut off all of his beautiful, overly mussed hair and leave him with a bowl cut. Such a hirsute crime has not been committed onscreen since Chris Evans shaved off his beard in Avengers: Endgame. Chalamet, admittedly, rocks it as best he can — and it suits his boyish face better than most, but it’s still not a good look. Plus, it’s particularly despair-inducing to watch him go from little grunge prince to Friar Tuck in the space of seconds.

In contrast, Hiddleston models his natural nearly ginger locks — and, post-coronation, grows a goatee to boot. If you like your monarchs a little more disheveled, their curly hair flying free on the field of Agincourt, accompanied by well-groomed facial hair, Hiddleston wins. No question. Sure, they’re both king — but does their hair look like you can run your fingers through it with the unbridled glee of a romance heroine? Being royal is great and all, but if your coat of hair can’t match your coat of arms, what is even the point?

Hal, after all, is meant to be a romantic hero by the story’s end, wooing his new French bride, Catherine of Valois — and if you were meeting your new husband with whom you did not share a common language, presumably a luscious head of flowing locks would be a great starting point. Meanwhile, a bowl cut is just gonna leave you questioning his taste and if he might be under the undue influence of his hairdresser.

Costumes further this point and grant Hiddleston another point in his favor. One word: leather.

Hiddleston sports a lot of it — from some body-hugging breeches to an assortment of doublets with v-necks deep enough to leave room for someone to draw a map of England on his chest. Chalamet wears darker colors throughout, and enough velvet to outfit several years’ worth of Christmas card looks. He drowns in his clothes, the weight of his kingly duties enhanced through over-sized looks that make him look overwhelmed.

Both Henrys are most appealing in their churlish, bad boy days, their collars hanging open as they carouse with women and drink at the tavern. Anyone who ever had a soft spot for our contemporary Prince Harry understands the appeal of a devilishly roguish prince who just can’t seem to keep himself out of trouble. Chalamet makes the most of his brief moments of bedroom eyes (and hair) before becoming more buttoned-up (literally). Their battle garb, chain-mail overlaid with plates of armor, is remarkably similar, but while Chalamet wears his reluctantly, the weight of war visible in his carriage, Hiddleston sports it like a fairy-tale prince, ready to slay a dragon.

The King grants us a portrait of a reluctant monarch, a young man who suddenly finds a nation’s fate resting on his shoulders. In many ways, Hal’s journey through Shakespeare’s Henriad is a similar tale, a coming-of-age story about a boy become king. But Shakespeare was celebrating (and in some ways creating) a national icon — as a result, while the Bard’s Henry leaves space for guilt, indecision, and more, he’s ultimately a figure of patriotic heroism. Just listen to the St. Crispin’s day speech and try to not feel like getting off your couch and taking a spear to the French.

It’s this that makes Hiddleston’s Hal the bigger thirst trap. Chalamet has a particular gift for playing emotionally wounded young men, but he wraps that behind a sullen stoicism in The King. Even when he’s supposedly having fun, he feels more like he’s drinking himself into a haze of wine and women than actively taking pleasure in any moment of his life. And even that hurt is kept behind a wall. The camera lingers lovingly on his brooding face, but he never lets us in enough to aspire any deeply felt empathy. The internet’s favorite sad boy is somehow inexplicably just too damn sad.

In contrast, Hiddleston delivers a boisterous, joyous performance. It’s one that knows when to ruminate in quieter moments (he gives great pretty sad face too, let’s be honest), but one that also relishes the flourishes of Shakespeare’s language. His Hal lets you in on everything he’s feeling — whether it’s the breathless enthusiasm and sense of honor as he rallies his troops, his face smeared with blood and sweat; or the ungodly amounts of charm, oozing out of every pore as he romances his new fiancée. Even in more solemn moments of contemplation, when he’s mourning his father and feeling the literal weight of his crown, we’re privy to all of his grief and apprehension as it flickers across his face.

In a sense, The King tries to make Henry V more human, casting a sense of existential dread across the age-old themes of war and peace, fathers and sons. Shakespeare’s history plays are notably larger-than-life, a task that Hiddleston rises up to and even exceeds. He takes the outsized, flowery language and extraordinary circumstances and humanizes the proceedings. While Chalamet’s Henry keeps his hurt bottled up, occasionally spilling out of his endlessly expressive eyes, Hiddleston’s Hal is a living, breathing man who seems to take exceeding care with his feelings and all those who surround him.

We stan a king in touch with his feelings and capable of expressing them in poetical language, one who can rock some leather and facial hair while he’s at it. The battle between Chalamet and Hiddleston’s Henry is ultimately as much of a rout as the Battle of Agincourt — and we know which one we’d follow once more unto the breach, dear friends.

[always-evergreen]

jasmine, primrose, gardenia, lions fairytale, lily of the valley, desert rose, creams and sky, tulip, daphne, wisteria, angels face, iris, caramel kisses, primula, queen anne's lace, forget me not, lunaria, sunflower, snowdrop, peonie, tea rose, sweet pea, love in the mist, crown imperial, cosmos, moon flower, lily, anemone, lotus, buttercup, calendula, blazing star, carnation, petunia, and morning glory 💐🌸💮🌹🌺🌻🌼🌷

whew this is a lot!! thanks for asking! ill put this under a read more so I dont clog up everyones dash

jasmine; what mythical creature do you wish actually existed? - my favourite was always griffins but I feel like theyd be kinda terrifying so im gonna go w mermaids!!

primrose; what book does everyone right now need to read? - not really a specific book but I think people just need to read more old timey books where literally nothing happens to calm us all down a little

gardenia; what’s a promise you’ve recently made to yourself? - I dont make promises to myself bc I know me too well and that bitch is a liar

lion’s fairytale; would you rather be the sky, the ocean or the forests? - this is actually a really cool question! I feel like the sky would be kinda lonely whereas the ocean and forests are full of life..... im gonna go forest just bc its a little less scary than the ocean lol

lily of the valley; did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? - cant say anyones ever actually hurt me that badly lol

desert rose; do you like yourself? - eh sure. could be improved upon but could be a whole lot worse!!

creams and sky; what’s the craziest/bravest thing you’ve done? - its not crazy but the bravest thing ive done is probably move away from home for university...and then drop out of two separate higher education courses lmfao

tulip; name 5 facts about yourself. - 1. im 5′6″. 2. ive dyed my hair 10 times. 3. im the middle of 3 siblings. 4. my biggest fear is someone breaking into my house. 5. my favourite animals are turtles!

daphne; do you believe in karma? - mmm not really... I dont not believe in it tho

wisteria; whom do you admire and why? - can I be honest w u guys? ive never had a role model in my life. never once have I looked at someone and been like ‘wow ur so cool and admirable I want to be like u’ like I just dont “admire” people idk:/

angel’s face; what was your favorite bedtime story as a child? - I really loved on Christmas eve when my dad would read us all the night before Christmas and the miracle of Jonathan Toomey... even when I got older and he was really just reading to my sister id still listen in lol

iris; do you believe in ghosts? - hell yeah!

caramel kisses; would you want to live forever? why/why not? - maybe so that I could really see the whole world and travel everywhere and experience everything these different places have to offer but probably not bc once all my friends and family died itd be really lonely... if there were other immortals then possibly

primula; what makes you sad? - my cats getting quite old so its really upsetting to think that in a few years hes gonna die

queen anne’s lace; who do you trust the most? - my bitch haide<3

forget me not; do you have any regrets looking back in your life? - yeah of course what kind of sociopath doesn't have regrets!!

lunaria; what’s your favorite fictional universe? - middle earth

sunflower; share a favorite quote. - “Don’t die wondering.” - The Way Way Back

snowdrop; what does your ideal day look like? - sleep till noon, lie in bed watching movies all day, walk the dog, large bowl of pasta for dinner, more movies

peony; share a small random book passage that means something to you. - “He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It’s his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.” - The Book Thief, Markus Zuzak… that's always been one of my favourite books and rudys one of my all time favourite characters and this was the first time I had ever cried reading a book... fun fact ive actually only read this book twice bc I dont have the emotional strength to go through this scene again

tea rose; what’s something you always wanted to do but were too scared? - I honestly cant think of anything atm...

sweet pea; who means the world to you? why? - my friends, my pets, my dad, jesse pinkman

love in the mist; best books you’ve ever read? - gotta say the book thief lol uhh fahrenheit 451, pretty much anything by ray Bradbury actually, to kill a mockingbird, the secret life of bees, lotr, his dark materials, little women, dorian gray, the shadow of the wind series

crown imperial; would you rather be extremely rich or extremely loved? - id like to have money obviously but id rather be loved than super rich

cosmos; do you ever think about the galaxy? - cant say that I do

moonflower; what’s your favorite color? - pink! and blue and yellow

lilly; what’s something you love watching/reading but you are too embarrassed to admit you do? - I gave up being embarrassed about my interests years ago, theres no time for feeling bad about stuff u enjoy in life

anemone; describe yourself in 3 words. - baddest bitch alive. nah jk ummm quiet, curious, daydreamer

lotus; best memory as a child? - I have such a bad memory so I dont actually remember a lot of my childhood but ill say just in general the time spent at my grans during the summer holidays, especially if our cousins were also visiting. that was a lot of fun

buttercup; if you could change one thing in the world, what would it be? - redistribute the wealth of the super rich, thereby contributing to ending poverty, hunger and homelessness across the world

calendula; biggest pet peeve? - slow walkers, people who chew with their mouths open

blazing star; share a secret. - I dont really have secrets lmao nothing that interesting ever happens to me

carnation; would you rather live longer or happier? - happier

petunia; who’s story is your biggest inspiration in life? why? - again I dont look up to people and I am inspired by no one

morning glory; any special talent that you have? - I dont even have any normal talents let alone special ones lol

thanks for asking! hope this was interesting xx

[littlebitoffanfic]

Coffee - Naga x reader

Naga x reader Request: would you write a modern au for a naga where the reader works at a little coffee shop and the naga is snarky and sarcastic but one day makes the reader have an accident? Glancing at the clock, you smiled. You only had another 2 hours left of your shift and then you had a full four days off. Do you plan on being at all productive over the next four day? No. But you still couldn’t wait. Ringing through the order for the orc in front of you, you quickly got to work making it in a to-go cup before handing him it. He thanked you and left the café. Your co-worker Sally had went through the back to try sort out some of the stock which was fine because the last few hours were always quiet. And you could call on her if you needed to. You started to clean the coffee machine, knowing it would only need a wipe down at the end of the night when you heard the door open. you turned around, and your heart fell into your stomach. You knew the customer who entered. He came most days and he had a foul mood about him. Especially towards you. he seemed to snap a little more at you than he did the others who worked here. And you couldn’t say why. It wasn’t because you were the newest since that was Mark. It couldn’t be because you had ever got his order wrong since you knew it off the top of your head. You treated him very professionally, unlike William, who would joke about things and take jokes too far. You spent the first few months of this job wondering why he hated you so before coming to the conclusion that he must just not like you. The customer in question was a naga, part human and part snake. His kind were known for being a bit more easier to annoy than humans or orcs. His name was Rask, which you had got when he had left his wallet and you had dropped it through his door from the address on his cards. He never thanked you for doing this, or even acknowledged it. “same as normal?” You smile at him as he came up to the counter. he gave a single nod and you set to work making his coffee. Rask was about 7 foot tall with his tail normally about 3 foot on the floor to hold him up. He had striking red eyes which were more silted than humans. His nose was flatter with the nostrils more like slits again, but his mouth and ears were fairly similar to human features. His hair was jet black and a little longer than most guys you knew, falling about half way down to his shoulders. Like most naga, he wore tops but nothing to cover his tail which was black like his hair. But some sections were red, and the scales seemed to shimmer in the light. If he wasn’t so unkind, you would be willing to admit he was attractive. Pressing the top on the to-go cup, you held it out to him with a smile. He took it and went to a table at the side. Normally, it wasn’t allowed for customers with to-go cups to sit in, but he would normally stay for five minutes before going. One of the customer who were sitting up with back came up to the counter. She was an older woman so when she ordered another two teas, you said you would bring them over. making both of the quickly, you placed them both on the tray before walking out from behind the counter. But you didn’t see Rask had moved his tail out slightly from the table as he had sat down. Not until your foot caught on it and you tripped up. The first thing you felt was pain as you fell to the floor with a loud clatter. Both teapots smashed and the boiling liquid poured out onto your hands. That coupled with the impact of the floor knocked the wind out of you as you took a moment to react. But you weren’t quick enough. “God damn it. Stupid, stupid, idiot girl.” Rask growled as a moved out and away from the spillage. He must have got some of the water sprayed on his tail as well as you tripping over him. your hands and forearms were on fire as tears poured down your cheeks. You raised your hands and sat back on your knees, turing your palms up. You could see the skin was burnt on both hands but your left hand had a few cuts from the broken teapots. Blood was dripping down your hand as it pulsed with pain. “Are you really so stupid that you didn’t-“ Rasks insults were cut off as you let out a sob and pulled your hands against your chest. The two old ladies who had ordered the teas were getting to their feet but you were quicker. You scrambled to your feet, gasping for air as you arms shook, the searing pain making it hard to take a full breath. “[y/n]?” Rasks voice was soft, softer than you had ever heard it before. You saw him reach out a hand to you through your teary eyes but you backed away. Turning on your heel, you fled into the back. ------------time skip -------------- You stood in your kitchen, gently stirring your cup of tea. It had been a week since the accident and you had been given sick leave. Sally had ran to you when she heard the crash but you slipped out the back, heading straight to the hospital. Normally you would have just dealt with a burn on your own, but both your hands were scolded by boiling water along with a few open cuts. No, you needed help. They cleaned and bandaged you up, giving you cream for the burns. They said your hands would be sensitive and sore for a few weeks but should heal up nicely. Sally, who had been texting you consistent, stayed the first few days so she could help you. but once you were able to do most things by yourself, she returned to work. Your boss had given you 3-4 weeks sick leave, but you were pretty sure you could go back by the 3 week stage. Your phone buzzed and you picked it up, seeing it was the café. “Hello?” You answered, popping it on loud speaker as you sipped your coffee. “You gotta come back.” William laughed over the phone and you heard a few voices in the background. It was about closing time so they were probably finished. “Why?” you ask, knowing they wouldn’t ask you back before you were ready. “You know that naga? The one with the black hair?” Sally asks, obviously having pulled the phone away from William. “Yeah.” Your interest peaked. “hes been in every day since then, asking where you are. And, well, William here was winding him up. Said you quit and you weren’t ever coming back because of what he had said to you.” Sally said and you froze. The two older women had told Sally what he had said when you left, tsking as they did so. You knew William and Mark were livid when they had heard about it but you had reminded them he might have been hurt too. “And today he asked for your number!” William called over Sallys shoulder and you heard a ‘oft’, meaning she elbowed him in the stomach. “Wait, what?” You gasp, unable to believe what they were saying. “Yeah, he wants to talk to you. I think he feels bad or something.” Sally tells you, her voice giving away that she was probably bouncing up and down like a school girl. She was the only one you had entrusted your small crush on Rask to and then she told everyone else. “You didn’t give it, did you?” You ask, prepared to pull out the ‘employee confidentiality’ hand if needed. “No, I said I couldn’t give him it without your consent. But he left his number.” She said and you heard a rustle of paper. “Give me a minute.” You sign as you open your keypad on your phone before signalling for her to read you the number. Once you had it, you saved it under his name. “You gotta call me and tell me what he says!” Sally demanded and you rolled your eyes. “Hes probably just going to apologies. Don’t read too much into it.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You quickly say your goodbyes before hanging up. You don’t know how long you stood, staring at his number. What would you say? What if he didn’t know your name and you had to introduce yourself as the idiot girl from the café? What if he didn’t answer? Would you leave a message? eventually, you shook your head, mumbled ‘fuck it’, and pressed call. you expected it to ring out and then you could relax, but after 2 rings, it was picked up. “Hello?” The voice belonging to Rask answered. “Hi, its [y/n], from the-“ You were about to say the name of the café when he cut you off. “yes, yes, [y/n].” He said, but not in an impatient way or trying to get you to speed up. He breathed your name like he had down when he realised you were hurt. “Sally said you wanted to talk to me?” You try to move the conversation on, unsure why your heart was hammering in your chest. “yes, yes, yes.” He stuttered over himself. You had never heard him speak like this. “I wanted to give my apologies for what happened that day. I didn’t mean what was said. And I am sorry for tripping you up.“ “Its okay. Thank you. I really appreciate it. And Im sorry if I got anything on you.” You smile, touched by his sincere apology. “Would you- Could I take you out for coffee or something?” Rask suddenly said, the words tumbling quickly from his mouth. “Oh, um, listen. William was just –“ You were about to say ‘pulling your leg’ but quickly changed it. “Messing about when he said I quit. Ive got sickness leave for my hands to heal. You don’t have to-“ “I want to. Please?” Rask said and you felt your knees going weak. How could you refuse. “Okay. Uh, how about tomorrow?” You ask, unable to stop the smile on your lips. “Yes, do you know the Coffee Bean? On Crown Street?” He asks. “You go to another coffee shop? Im hurt.” You laugh, trying to break the tension. It seemed to work as you heard him chuckle on the other end. You had never heard him laugh. Or even seen him give a genuine smile. You resolved to rectify that tomorrow. -----time skip ------------ He agreed to meet you at 3pm, since he would be finished his work before then. You stood outside the shop with your hands in your pockets. It was a cold day and even with your bandaged hands, you felt the chill. you glanced to the side and saw Rask coming round the corner. When you met his gaze, you smiled at him. He nodded gently as he approached. You wondered how he must deal with the coldness in his tail but you weren’t going to ask. He was wearing his normal suite with a scarf around his neck which you had only seen him wear a handful of times. “Good afternoon.” You smiled. “Im not a customer. You don’t have to greet me like that.” He hissed, making you jump a little. When he saw your reaction, he ducked his head. You felt your heart break a little. You thought this was going to be a nice afternoon, perhaps you could even get to know him. But apparently you were wrong. However, he was right. He wasn’t a customer. So you didn’t have to worry about talking back to him. “I know that. Would you prefer I say nothing at all?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. your response made him look up at you again and you saw a smirk pull on his thin lips. “Preferably not.” He said before signalling for you to go inside. it was easer if you went in front of him because of his tail. “What would you like?” He asked you as you both look up at the board. “Um, a hot chocolate would be nice.” You look to him for approval and he nods. “You should find us a seat.” He directs and you look around the nearly empty café. “Hmm, I don’t know. I cant see any.” You look back at Rask, faking a concerned look. His eyes dart around the place, obviously confused by your comments before he catches on and chuckles a little. smiling, you were glad you got your goal out of the way as you made your way over to a little booth in the back. it was by the small fire which was lit so you hoped it would keep you both warm. It definitely felt strange seeing him outside of work. It was like seeing a co-worker who you never see outside work. You pulled off your coat and draped it over the chair before walking closer to the fire. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Rask approaching with a tray which he placed on the table. He set your hot chocolate on one side and his coffee on the other before sliding into the seat. You returned to the table and slid into your own, reaching out for the cup when you heard a hiss. Jumping, you looked up and saw Rask was staring at your bandaged hands. Well, they weren’t completely bandaged. Your forearm up to your fingers were completely bandaged. Both your thumbs were as were several of your other fingers. “What?” You ask, confused by his reaction. “You shouldn’t be picking anything up.” He snaps, and suddenly you could see the distress in his eyes. He looked panicked. “Its fine. They have to stay bandaged to avoid infection. They are actually mending really well.” You smile, reaching and picking up the cup to take a sip. “The first few days were bad but Sally came and helped me. Now its just a waiting game.” Upon seeing you were fine, he takes a sip of his coffee. “How is it?” You ask, nodding to his cup. “alright. Not as good as you make it.” He grumbles, frowning a little but taking another sip nonetheless. You couldn’t help but smile at his comment. “I think that’s the first compliment you’ve ever give me.” You smile, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He quips back, making you laugh. As you and Rask settled into your seats, you found it rather easy to speak to him. He was smart and liked classical literate. You both spoke of your favourite authors and Rask seemed impressed by your knowledge and favourite books and after a few deep conversations about the meaning because scenes and the complex characters, you realised it was dark out. But you didn’t mind, and neither did Rask as he offered you another drink. You pointed out the café would probably close soon since it was late. You had always had problems reading Rasks emotions, but now you could swear he seemed dishearten by your rejection of his offer. So you decided to counter it. “Do you want to come back to mine? I’ll make you a proper coffee?” you ask with a smirk as you eye his half drunk coffee. you saw the confusion in his eyes as he stared at you, but he nodded. The two of you left the café and you lead the way back to your place. You fumbled with your keys so Rask took them gently from your hand and unlocked your front door, motioning for you to step inside first. He really was a gentleman. You made him his coffee and the two of you sat on your sofa, continuing to talk about literature as well as moving onto favourite films. You ended up sitting rather close, his tail ending up lying around your feet and your thigh against the top of his tail. everything was going lovely until a beeping noise came from his breast pockets of his suite. He dug it out, muttering something about work and answered the call. From what you could make out, they needed him to come for a meeting about new contract that had to be signed right away. You could tell from the way his eyes flicked to you and how his tail felt like it tensed that he didn’t want to leave, but his work insisted it was urgent. He hung up and pushed himself off the sofa. “Im sorry.” He mumbled, ducking his head as if he were embarrassed or annoyed. “Its okay. Ive been called in last minute as well.” You shrug, showing that you didn’t take offence to him having to run quickly. he looked at you, and you swore you could see sadness in his eyes as he turned towards to the door. “Rask?” You asked, following him to the door. But he turned quicker than you expected and you nearly bumped into him. You lost your footing on his tail and stumbled. The fear of the pain as you hit the floor verse the pain if you used your hands to catch yourself seemed equally unappealing. But you didn’t need to worry. Arms wrapped around you and Rask caught you before you fell, pulling you against his chest. You let out a small squeeze of surprised as you looked up and seeing he was staring down at you, wide eyed. his eyes darted to your lips, but then back to your eyes as he seemed to be in some sort of inner conflict with himself. he ducked his head down, stopping millimetres from your lips as if testing the water. Or waiting for you. You close the distance, pressing your lips to his. his lips were soft and cold to touch, but pleasant enough. He moved his lips against you’re the second he realised you had kissed him back. His kiss reflect him to a t. mature and cold but with hints of passion and desire. You felt his whole shake as he pulled you closer, like he couldn’t stand another moment without you against him. You rested your hands on his chest, feeling how his heart hammered beneath his skin. Eventually, it was too much as you had to break the kiss for air. “I always thought you didn’t like me.” You breathe as he pulls back from the kiss. “I wouldn’t try see you every day if I didn’t like you.” Rask hissed, his voice low and sending a shiver down your spin. “im glad you come to see me.” You smile, and you feel Rask relax. You didn’t even notice he had been so tense but apparently waiting to see your reaction was killing him. He leaned in, gently pressing his lips against your own in a more soothing kiss that seemed less controlled and stiff. This time, you allowed your lips to move against his with no questions, simply enjoying the feeling and sensation. Until his phone buzzed again. Rask growled into the kiss, pulling himself back to grab the phone out his coat and answering the call which was again from his work. “Im just coming.” He half snarled down the line, the person on the other end telling him to hurry up before hanging up. He huffed through his nose and shoved the phone back in to his pocket. “Since you’ve been having some bother with William, you could always come here tomorrow for your coffee?” You suggested, tilting your head to the side as you always let out a giggle at the way his snapped to meet your own. He nodded quickly, a full three times. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him agree to something so eagerly. You lean up and press a quick kiss to his lips, almost hating that he had to leave right this second. You could easily get used to feeling his arms around you and his tail coiled around your feet. but he had to leave, and Rask seemed just as annoyed about that fact as you did. he opened your door and you held it open, waving him goodbye to him before retreating back into your warm house. you felt like you were walking on air or clouds as you drifted back to the living room. You fell back into your couch, grabbing your phone and about to call Sally and gush over the best kiss you had had in your life only for something to catch your eye from the side. Rasks scarf. You bit your lip as you opened a message to send to him. “Did you leave your scarf here by accident or on purpose so you have to come back tonight?” You send. You see it was read almost straight away and your phone pinged with the response. “And if it was a bit of both?” He replied. “Then message me when your 5 minutes away and I’ll have a coffee ready for you when you get here. Enjoy your meeting.” You reply. then you open your call log and call Sally, putting her on loud speaker so you could tidy up while you gushed to Sally over your news. Not an hour later, you got a message from Rask, saying he was just on your street. This would be an interesting night and you might both need coffee.

[queer-starling]

Flower ask: also all of them. you get to suffer with me >:3€

oh darlin’ we’re in it now huh

Alisons: Sexuality?

homogay

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

she/they | all gender will be shot on sight

Amaryllis: Birthday?

sept 23rd

Anemone: Favorite flower?

monkshood

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show?

stranger things or ghost adventures

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger?

like? distance? a couple miles probably

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?

“We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little lifeIs rounded with a sleep.” William Shakespeare, The Tempest

Aubrieta: Favorite drink?

wild cherry capri sun

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

ima change that to ‘kiss the last person u thought abt kissing’ bc YES

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

*jenna marbles voice* hell yeah!!

Baneberries: Favorite song?

waiting for the end - linkin park 

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

chaos

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it?

i have too many to list !!! brandi, kasey, you, liz, ivy, nick , just to name a few!!

Begonia: Favorite color?

blue uwu

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

foxes !! and opossums

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

night time babey

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

either a fox or an opossum or a raven, i think

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

i wanted to be a vet !!!

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children?

theyre ok as long as theyre not screaming and/or mine

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why?

i don’t liike vomit bc. nastey (trauma i think) and i don’t like old ppl well. i dunno why? they’re just so old and fragile and helpless and sometimes they’re really mean and idk i think it’s like something to do w death or something LMAO idk. also i just hate the idea of becoming old and having to rely on other people ?? hhh

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

i was bullied a lot

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?  

realistically? probably playing dead by daylight with my girlfriend ADFSGRHYUTR

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

happily taken 

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

ireland, scotland, alaska, greece

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved?

whenever my friends or family tells me they love me but esp when u text me goodmorning or when we say our goodnights sorry im gay haha

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?  

i have. uuuuhh 6

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?  

no!!! i want some tho :(

California Poppy: Height?  

i think im like. 5′5 or something? give or take an inch ?

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

oh absolutely. my house is haunted as we speak

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?  

bmth hoodie and pajama pants w foxes all over them. i just woke up lol

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

yeah i always keep one on in the bathroom

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?  

my sister bc she came home from college yesterday

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed?

ask me in like. a little over a month from now ;)

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

FONT??? the animal crossing font

Columbine: Are you tired?

oh absolutely

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

thanksgiving, christmas, seeing my gf, magfest

Coneflower: Dream job?

idk if it’s a job but i just wanna own like. a ranch that takes in all sorts of animals and takes care of them

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert?

introvert 

Crocus: Have you ever been in love?

ooooh yeah

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about?

i mean. depends on what they want/need. distance wise? i’d travel the known universe for u  

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

he was a plaid teddy bear his name was Stanley!!!! i miss him :( but now i have Little Moon God as my favourite stuffed animal 

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

Libro

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

Working in Yellowstone is something I’ll never forget

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment?

well. hmm. i was gonna say flying to yellowstone but maybe driving to north carolina by myself bc driving long distances alone to places i haven’t been before gives me hella anxiety (i’m better now)

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)? 

i don’t pay rent in this house to listen to their opinions lmao. 

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

you, i think, when we said goodnight last night!!! EDIT: you this morning!!

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?

being bad at dead by daylight

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

dead by daylight

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

(little over a month now but uhhh) GOT A UH ......GIRL.....FRIEND ...... GOT TO VISIT GIRLFRIEND ........ and got the windshield finally replaced in my car 

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

i dont know! so far ive laid in bed now im at my computer answering this. not too bad. my shift is only 4 hours today. 

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

for the most part, i’m pretty content, yeah

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two?

MOVE OUT 

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?

my friends, my mom, my sisters, my girlfriend, my bastard dog

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?

metal   

Hellebore: How do you show affection?

what does this mean. physically, i’m very affectionate, i just. don’t show it alot bc anxiety/i overthink. that and i constantly tell ppl i love them and what they mean to me 

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of?

whoever is reading this

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

wake up next 2 a cute girl. take way too long to get up. go climb mountain w cute girl. vibe on mountain w cute girl. go to waffle house 2gether. gome home and vibe. play video games or watch a movies/tv w cute girl.  

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?  

i like to make art or play bideo jame

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them?

oh gosh i dunno. the ones i’ve known the longest are kasey and brandi, and i’ve known them both around/over a decade i think. we met in middle/highschool!

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?

you, ivy, liz

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

so many 

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

idk man but i remember when you said u had a crush on me and then i posted a selfie and u were like ‘OH NO SHE’S CUTE” and like ??? idk i think that was definitely the first compliment to ever shock me LMAO 

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

6.9/10

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

my tattoos

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself? 

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGGViLwHEUk

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

i liked to play zombies ate my neighbors on the sega genesis !!!!

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid?

eliza !!!! we lost touch a few years after i moved away :(

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for?

ima be real everything makes me feel guilty

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?  

aaaaaa the whole abi/moon incident 

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

my name is fox. it means i like foxes

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

northern virginia babey !!!! that place fucking sucks!!! but everyone who lives up there thinks they’re hot shit. 

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

i had a bunkbed and i think the walls were pink 

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?  

😬 i’m just gonna say i’m much happier now and i’m coping with life and shit a lot better  

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

she’s sweet and funny and i love her so much!! she always does the Most for everyone, sometimes to the point where she isn’t concerned abt herself and i see where i get it from. but yeah my mom is great, my dad doesn’t deserve her 

Onions: Tell about your dad.  

source of a lot of trauma and why i have so many issues regarding men. i don’t wanna talk about him anymore LOL he doesn’t deserve the attention

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

my dad’s mom is becoming senile and i think she’s racist and queerphobic. my mom’s parents disowned her a few years ago so we don’t talk to them anymore 

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable?

i dunno. i don’t try to remember my birthdays. whenever i can go to busch gardens for my birthday i usually have a lot of fun there. 

Peony: What was your first job?

if you don’t wanna count working w my mom as a florist, target was my first job back in 2016. i found my name tag the other day , actually

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

WELL, i know you followed me on here first. and then twitter?? but we didn’t really start talking until stranger things 3 came out (thank u stranger things) PHYSICALLY, we didn’t meet until fursonacon (haha. i remember when u texted me that u got to the hotel and i came down to help n i saw u unloading yr car and it was then that my brain was like OH NOOOOOOOO and my heart was like OH YEEEEAAAAAAAH) 

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

physical, mental, or emotional? i play a video game or listen to loud music

Pink: Where is home?[

somewhere in appalachia i can feel it in my stupid soul 

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change? 

idk man i’m pretty content w where i’m at now so 

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

chester bennington 

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

i have a waife and we have many great pets and we live in a log cabin in the mountains or in a nice victorian in a small town or something IDK but we’re happy and that’s all that matters 

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

God

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

my mom, me best friends, my girlfriend

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

my girlfriend’s laugh because it’s THE cutest shit and then when she giggles??? oh my heart 

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

oct 23rd, 2005, we brought Fat Boy Zack home !!!!

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

July 22nd, 2016. i was 2200 miles away

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?  

to be holding my girlfriend >:(

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

hhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

those i hold dear

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

enough, i guess? 

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

my girlfriend

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

it’s fucking BORING and TOO EASY and they don’t pay me ENOUGH but i can get away with so much shit there so ima still go, ima still go 

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

all of the flannels currently in my possession

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.  

mountains, woods, forests, cabins, autumn, cryptic, occult, victorian, edwardian

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

if someone gets me a gift i’m legally required to execute them

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

this 40hr workweek i got coming up 

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

i have not read in So Long

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

Moved out away from here lol, we’ll see

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is?

:/

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

i’m a furry

that was SO LONG im sorry i also put you through that but THANK YOU ENJOY READING ILU

[titsthedamnseason]

If you haven't done it already can you do headcanons about Julian's birthday?

bitch you know it asdfghj and by some miracle ive actually gotten these done before the two weeks that could potentially be his birthday are over so happy birthday julian!!

julian has never really had a big birthday celebration before

of course emma and the kids and diana always got him gifts and spoiled him

you know, doing chores for him, letting him relax for a day, stuff like that

but poor julian is a worrier so he’d always end up insisting to help anyway, saying that he wanted to

he even would always make the cake since no one else could

it wasnt until later that everyone realized that every time they had tried to spoil julian on his birthday, he turned it around on them, and he wound up doing most of the work

they are determined to make his 18th birthday different

helen and aline are more than capable of holding down the fort now

plus julian and emma take a break from their travel year for the holidays and are in the institute for julian’s birthday

which could be anytime from jan 1-15 but my personal hc is that it’s on new years day (wink wink)

so anyway julian and emma will be in la for his bday and julian is a lot more carefree this year so everyone is highkey determined to give him the best birthday this year

nobody wakes him up early, and after staying up so late the night before his normal internal clock doesnt wake him up as usual

at 12am everyone else shouted “happy new year!” and emma shouted “happy birthday julian!”

anyway when julian does wake up, later than usual, his first instinct is to shoot out of bed and get the kids breakfast but he takes a moment to himself to revel in the fact that this is his first birthday spent waking up next to emma as her boyfriend

emma seizes her moment and convinces him to stay for just a while longer, im sure the kids are fine, helen and aline have been taking care of them for months

julian gives her like five minutes of kisses and cuddles before beelining for the kitchen

he finds that everyone else has already been up for an hour or so and has already eaten breakfast

the second he enters the kitchen everyone yells “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” and he is bombarded with hugs and drawings and cards and stupid gag gifts from the kids that he accepts with a smile cristina and mark both hug him as well and he’s pleasantly surprised to see them

(if you read my tda holiday hcs i made them leave before this point but awsxdcfvgyh they come back to surprise him)

he grabs a plate for himself reluctantly, wont stop apologizing to helen and aline that he overslept

they keep telling him they dont care but, surprise surprise, he’s not listening

when julian goes back to his room to get dressed he finds emma already ready with his favorite blue dress of her’s on and holding a present for him

his reaction is “oh that reminds me” and he pulls out another gift from under the dresser

emma is like ????? and julian is like “…for you” and emma is still like ????? so then julian explains “i got you a new year’s gift too”

emma is like fuck that shit this is a birthday gift asdfgyhu “who the fuck buys new year’s presents” “i dont know i love you” “i love you too but what the fuck julian now i look bad” “you couldnt look bad if you were trying”

anyway after emma gets it through julian’s head that he does deserve a birthday gift and no, she refuses to open up his gift to her on his birthday, nice try, julian, he opens it up

it’s a new blue shirt that almost exactly matches emma’s dress which is “an unfortunate coincidence”

he cant stop telling her it’s too much, you shouldnt have, and emma is like hoe you think im done??? think again

but actually she doesnt say that, she just says youre welcome asdfghyuj

anyway

they go meet everyone in their matching outfits and they all just hang around a bit, there isnt much else julian could ask for than to be with his family

but at lunch emma surprises julian with a picnic for the two of them at the beach

she promises that she didnt touch the food, she had aline make it all asdfrghy

once they finish emma gives julian more presents(“this is a prank right?” “am i laughing? actually i am but not because this is a prank, please just open the presents” ) 

the first is a whole set of paints and brushes and other art supplies i know nothing about, all custom made, the brushes with inscriptions on the handles( “jb” “as long as you exist and i exist i will love you” “i love you more than starlight”)

julian: where did you get that last quote from?

emma: i thought of it

julian: *melts*

he asks how she knew what supplies to get him and she told him how she saw him looking at all this stuff back in that shop in london and went back to get it for him

he’s so touched

he is already certifiably not okay™️ because the whole day has been against everything he’s ever known and he feels weird, he just wants to give something to someone, literally anyone

julian is so happy and when emma pulls out an envelope he has to bite his tongue to keep from saying “oh no not again”

emma just gives him a look when she sees him holding back asdfgbhgt

he’s preparing himself for some sort of long sentimental card from her that will probably make him cry but what he gets is worse

it’s just a piece of paper that says “im having so much fun on our date right now, but id love it even more if you came with me to the louvre to our next one”

julian is shooketh to a level beyond all levels

he cant imagine why emma looks so worried he wont like it

they laugh and hug and then proceed to kiss a lot before going back to the institute 

julian is ready to just chill now 

he comes in and there are decorations filling the entryway

a million balloons, streamers, banners

he looks at emma who just shrugs but she’s smiling so big and has a knowing look on her face 

there’s a beautifully decorated poster next to the staircase that says “TAKE ONE” and there’s a party hat for emma and a ridiculous crown for julian that says “it’s my birthday!” under it

they follow a trail of posters with arrows on them to the living room(im pretty sure they dont call it that but the room with the computer in it is where they always hang out so that’s what i mean awsedfvgbh)

everyone yells “SURPRISE” when they walk in and julian is sure he’s in a permanent state of shock

like yes he just followed an entire trail of arrows to get here but it’s still so much more than he expected

they eat pizza and play music and all just hang out and it’s a fun time

at one point julian goes to adjust his crown but everyone thought he was taking it off and yelled at him aesdxcfvgbh

they play stupid party games like pin the tail on the donkey(which theyre all good at since theyre shadowhunters asdfghjui) and charades and stuff like that

everyone gives julian more presents and he thinks he might combust

they sing to him and have cake

they give him one more gift after they sing and it’s a photo album of julian and his siblings and emma through the years

there are ones of baby emma and jules playing to 12 year old julian intently speaking to ty and livvy to 14 year old julian reading with tavvy to 17 year old julian laughing with dru to ones with helen, mark, aline, and cristina in them and ones from the travel year and julian is amazed

he’s so touched and he’s proud that he only cries a little

a little after that everyone starts getting tired since they stayed up until midnight the night before

diana goes home, tavvy goes to bed, followed by dru and ty shortly after

when julian hugs ty on his way out he almost feels like livvy is there too, and he doesnt understand why ty goes pale when julian tells him, julian worries he shouldnt have said anything before ty just smiles and says “good” before walking out

everyone else goes to bed shortly after

julian and emma are laying in julian’s bed when she pulls out a card for him, but tells him it’s nothing special

he opens it and begs to differ

the front of the card says “so many ways to say i love you” and she has filled the inside with ways she said it over the years

“protecting you in fights”

“i’ll put the kids to bed tonight”

“i would do anything for you, jules”

“we’re parabatai, we can do this”(julian doesnt like this one)

“take a break”

“please stay”

“i need you”

“your hair is a mess”(“really emma? “shut up”)

the list goes on until it ends with “i love you. love, emma”

they are both crying at the end

“i love you so much, emma”

“i love you, t––”

she doesnt get to finish

they have more important things to get to and, needless to say, they dont get much sleep that night either

[intubatedangel]

Barista’s Bad Heart - part 9

(Long part here, a lot of exposition, but it’s fairly important as Anna Swift and the team at Memorial are going to be the main characters of many of my stories going forward. Like a TV medical drama, you’ll see these guys often, but the patients will still get their own introductory part or parts. Hope you enjoy.)

Part 1: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183302348002/baristas-bad-heart-part-1 

Other links at the bottom.

***

Advanced Nurse Practitioner Anna Swift leaned against the counter in the centre of the main triage room. She signed off a chart, dropping it into the discharged pile, then picked up her tea. She was young enough, only 26, that she hadn’t lost enough taste buds to handle the grim brown liquid that passed as coffee. She sipped the warm tea and turned to look around the room. Laid out in a hexagon, it was the hub of the emergency department, where patients were initially assessed then shifted to the relevant ward. There were a dozen cubicles in this central room alone, with portable beds to allow patients to be shuffled around easily and efficiently.

 Wide sets of double doors led through to additional cubicles for varying degrees of severity. Each set of doors had large painted panels denoting their intended patients. The blue doors were the minor injuries ward, though most of the staff referred to it as HC, hypochondriac central. Small cuts, basic colds, pretty much anything that could have been sorted by the patient themselves, went through those doors.

 Yellow doors led through to the main treatment ward, simplified to TR by the staff. Simple fractures, bad cuts, sprains and illnesses, anything actually needing treatment or observation went through those doors. It was the biggest of the wards, capable of accommodating over 40 patients without any body sitting on a bed in a corridor.

 Red was the High Severity Unit, HSU. This was for patients that were in potentially serious trouble and needed close observation. Badly broken bones, head injuries and the like. Things that had a chance of suddenly becoming life threatening. 20 patients could be treated, and crash carts were scattered across the ward in case a patient deteriorated. It had its own set of elevators to the radiology department and an internal corridor to the next ward. The ward that had black panels on its doors.

 The Resus Suite was where the life and death action happened. It had access to the ambulance bay to get patients in quick. It was the crowning glory of the Trauma Centres reputation. 12 fully equipped rooms, ready to handle anything the city had to throw at it. It even had a pair of Trauma Theatre’s, and a surgical team on standby. A helicopter pad on the roof had elevators directly to the Resus Suite.

 The Resus Suite was Anna’s primary domain. She would cover the other wards when it was quiet, as she had been doing today, but as soon as that red phone rang, she could drop everything and go to where she thrived. Her gaze fell upon it. It sat on the central column behind the circular counter. It hadn’t rung all day. Somehow, the bustling city had avoided grinding anyone up over the last 8 hours. A couple of minor car crashes, one stabbing and an old lady who tripped over thin air and broke her hip, but nothing that set that phone ringing. Every patient had been conscious and stable as they were brought in.

 “You’d better not be hoping for that phone to ring Anna.” Said a voice behind her. The words were a reprimand, but the tone was friendly, almost playful. She turned to see Doctor Carl Teague, 30 years old, with sandy hair a short, sculpted beard. He was like Anna. They were both young for their positions, he was already an ED consultant, leading their team. Anna had been working with him for two years now. They’d been sleeping together for 6 months.

 “I’m thinking nothing of the sort.” She replied, a look of mock outrage on her face. “I was merely considering that my skills might be being wasted over in HC.”

 He rolled his eyes, filling his current chart in the discharge box. “Think of it this way,” he said quietly, leaning over the counter towards her, “a quiet day, means we have more energy for fun later on.”

 Anna checked that no was watching. “Easy boy. Remember, not at work.” Despite seeing each other for six months, no one at the hospital officially knew they were in a more than professional relationship. It was starting to become a point of contention between them, and she saw him frown slightly. “Soon. Okay. I just want to make sure everyone knows I’m leading because I’m good enough. Not because I’m entangled with the ED’s golden boy.”

 “You’ve proved that time and again already.” He said. “I just…”

 The red phone rang.

 ***

 Anna stood in the ambulance bay, bristling with that nervous energy that always filled her when a hard case came her way. Excitement wasn’t quite the right word for it. It was tension, focus, determination all wrapped into one. There was also an undercurrent of concern and fear, that they might fail. But she had enough experience to keep that buried deep enough that it wouldn’t impact her performance.

 In the six minutes since the red phone had called them, Anna had gathered up her team. Like a well-oiled machine they knew their roles and could have probably run a code in silence, such was their experience together. Carl had grabbed his current shadow, a young F1 junior doctor. She was clearly nervous, her fingers tugging on the hem of her head scarf.

 They all knew the rough details, mid 20’s girl in full cardiac arrest, sudden onset, no trauma. The sirens broke through the air, the ambulance rapidly approaching. Carl gave his orders.

 “Ok guys, let’s run this same as always. Anna, I want you straight onto compressions. Kirstie, take the ambu bag. Jess, IV. Roger, you’ve got the record. Zee, this is your first time, so stick close, listen and try your best to keep track.” Zainab nodded. “Good.  Everyone else, I want her inside as quick as we can, so make sure nothings tangled and get ready to work them legs.”

 There were murmurs of understanding, the approaching sirens beginning to drown them out. The ambulance raced onto the street, forcing the traffic to yield. It swung into the emergency lane that led up to the assemble resus team. They all stepped back, just off the road, as the ambulance approached. The tyres squealed, a hint of burnt rubber filling the space in front of the doors, bringing the ambulance to a stop.

 The team sprang into action. Two of those who had no specific job wrenched open the doors, stepping out of the way. Anna was greeted by the sight of Lucy working the young woman’s chest. A younger man was sat at the head of the gurney, his eyes sparkling with tears. The squeal of the monitor spilled out, and Anna could see the streaking flatline on the monitor. The moment passed, and Anna sprang into action.

 She stepped forward, placing one foot on the back step of the ambulance, then sprang forward. Gripping the sides of the gurney with her hands, she swung her legs down, landing on either side of the girl’s bare legs. She grabbed the monitor off the shelf as Lucy continued her compressions, and pulled it across the lifeless body to clip it onto the gurney’s rail.

 “On 3.” Anna said to Lucy, who nodded, as she shuffled her knees into the right position. “1…2…3” Lucy pushed down once more, then snapped her arms away. In the same moment, Anna brought her interlaced fingers down, pressing down straight away. There had been no break in the rhythm of compressions, Anna’s thrusts taking place of Lucy’s with a slick efficiency.

 The gurney shuddered, Anna compensating automatically, as it was pulled from the back of the ambulance. There was a slight pause as bits of equipment were handed off and Dave made his way round from the cab. Hands grabbed the gurney and began pushing it head-first, towards the doors. Anna kept up the perfect compressions as they travelled towards the Resus Suite.

 Carl was near the girl’s head, opposite Dave. Roger was trailing just behind Dave, clipboard and chart in hand. “What have we got?” Carl asked.

 “Amelia Preston, 25. Sudden V-tach arrest after altercation with a customer. No signs of injury, infection or drug-based influence. Suspected prior cardiac complaint. She was wearing a 3-lead monitor at the time.” He nodded over at George, who held out the monitor. Zainab took it off his hands. “CPR started immediately, and AED was on scene within 90 seconds. Shocked 3 times before becoming asystolic. First round of Epi administered after 10 minutes. Resulted in a shockable rhythm. After 2 shocks we got a sinus brady rhythm, with multifocal PVCs. Deteriorated back into V-fib, then asystole again after 2 shocks. She’s been flat since then. Total downtime of 22 minutes.”

 The team had gotten the gurney inside and were now turning through the extra wide door into Resus 1.

 “Ok. Let’s move her over and get her on our monitors. Let’s run a tox panel, and get someone from cardiology down here, I want the data from that monitor.” The gurney had pulled up next to trauma bed and everyone was waiting on Anna to move Amelia across. Anna checked the team was ready to move, then shifted across both beds, slipping over the side to land on the step that protruded from the trauma bed. The rest of the team had lifted Amelia across and arranged her on their own CPR backboard, allowing Anna to resume compressions as soon as she landed on the step.

 Lucy handed over the blood sample to one of the nurses, Trish, who rushed out of the trauma room towards the lab. Another nurse was over by the phone, calling the cardiology department. Others were quickly connecting the equipment to the monitors, one attached to the bed, with a repeater feed to the TV sized monitor on the wall.

 “Let’s double check everything.” Carl ordered. “I want an echo and let’s confirm that airway.” Anna counted off the compressions as the ultrasound probe was pulled over to the side of the bed.

 “3…2…1…” Anna pumped down Amelia’s chest once more, then pulled back. She scanned the room as Carl held the probe to Amelia’s battered chest. Lucy and Dave were standing in a corner, along with the young man that had accompanied them. He looked physically and emotionally exhausted. She looked down at the lifeless body before her. With a few moments to actually look at the girl, Anna was struck was by how similar she was to their patient. They had the same body shape, were within a couple of inches of each other and both had hair that curled gently in waves, though Anna’s was maybe a shade darker. If they’d been weighed, there would probably be a good difference, given the muscle tone Anna had developed lifting patients and performing life saving efforts. But overall, they looked similar enough that a stranger might comment on them being sisters.

 “No cardiac activity.” Carl commented, gaze locked on the screen of the echo. “But the pericardium is clear.” He handed off the probe and grabbed the stethoscope from around his neck. “Good bilateral air entry. Airway’s fine.” He looked up at Anna. The realisation of the similarity between her and Amelia must have been showing on her face. “You ok?” He asked.

 Anna shock her head quickly. “I’m fine.” She said, motioning for him to get out of the way. As soon as the head of the steth was out of the way she resumed compressions, with a slightly more desperate effort to them.

 Carl shrugged to himself. “High dose of epi, let’s see if we can kick start something.” Jessica acknowledged the order and proceeded to inject the drugs into the central IV, confirming the time with Roger. “Sarah! Anything from cardiology?” He called out to the nurse by the phone.

 “They’re saying at least 15 minutes. They’re all in the cath lab or out for lunch.”

 Carl cursed under his breath. He placed his fingers against Amelia’s neck, feeling the solid compression generated pulse. Then he checked her pupils. “Pupillary response is diminished.” He sighed, pondering his next move. “Ok, let’s get the LUCAS and combo pads on her, and initiate therapeutic hypothermia, I want to keep as much of her brain function intact as possible if we can get her back. She’s definitely a small.”  

 Anna focused on completing her fourth minute of compressions as the rest of team unpacked the specified equipment. Being a nationally recognised centre of excellence in the field of resuscitation, Memorial had been given several grants for research projects aiming to improve patient outcomes. One of those projects was Carl’s pet project. Still a prototype, the Intra-Arrest Temperature Management Vest was a relatively simple idea. The goal was to rapidly induce mild-hypothermia to reduce potential brain and organ damage, without interfering with efforts to resuscitate the patient. In practice, it looked almost like a bulky long winter coat without the sleeves and a few strange gaps.

 Anna watched as the team spread the vest on the bed next to Amelia. They’d practiced the procedure repeatedly, on manakins and each other, but Amelia was only the second patient to be in the right situation for the vest. Kirstie and Sarah took up position on the opposite side of the bed from Amelia, while Jessica come up beside Anna. With Trish still on her way back from the lab, Carl directed Zainab to the head of the bed, while he went to the end. His longer arms allowed him to reach out and grip underneath Amelia’s thighs. Anna waited until everyone had sounded off their readiness before stopping compressions.

“1…2…3… Lift.” Carl told Zainab. Together they lifted the lifeless Amelia a couple of inches clear of the bed. Anna’s arm shot underneath her, grabbing the vest. Next to her Jess was doing the same. They pulled it through, Kirstie and Sarah making sure they didn’t drag it too far, then guided Carl and Zainab in lowering Amelia back down so that she lay with her shoulder blades on the reinforced section of the back of the vest. That was where most of the pressure from the compressions would end up.

 As soon as Amelia was down, Anna went straight back into compressions, keeping the blood flowing while the others finished arranging the vest. Amelia’s chest sank underneath Anna’s hands, her abdomen distending just as it before. The vest offered no interference with the process. As Anna hammered away on her near-doppelganger’s chest, Sarah reached around her hands to remove the shiny orange gel pads, replacing them with the large foam squares of the Quik-Combo electrodes.

 Jess and Kirstie threaded Amelia’s arms through the large holes, then folded the top half of vest over her body, securing it with the Velcro straps. It didn’t interfere with Anna, as one of the large gaps was located right on Amelia’s sternum, providing the perfect gap for Anna’s hands. The pair of nurses then moved further down, wrapping parts of the vest around Amelia’s thighs, another large gap left between her legs, allowing access to her vagina and femoral arteries.

 The small cooler attached to the vest began to hum as it pumped refrigerated water through the tiny tubes in the vest, and within seconds Amelia’s temperature began to drop. Anna continued her professionally brutal compressions as the team then began to unpack the Lucas. Carl was injecting another round of drugs in, as the monitor continued to show the complete lack of electrical activity in Amelia’s heart.

 The backboard of the Lucas was brought over, Anna stopping for a moment as it was slid under Amelia, it was a perfect fit for the reinforced region of the vest. Anna did a few more compressions as the team made sure the Lucas was ready.

 “Ok, step off Anna.” Carl ordered. She complied, stepping completely off the bed, rubbing some feeling back into her arms. She glanced at the clock. 6 minutes and 30 seconds of near continuous compressions. It was a personal best. Though she didn’t feel particularly proud at the moment. It meant that Amelia had now been in cardiac arrest for 29 minutes.

 Anna returned her attention to the patient who look so much like her. The Lucas had been clipped to its backboard, Amelia’s wrists tied to the top. The large puck, fitting perfectly in the gap in the cooling vest, began to force her chest down. At this point, all Anna could do was watch. Watch, and hope.

***

Part 2: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183345519857/baristas-bad-heart-part-2

Part 3: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183380872877/baristas-bad-heart-part-3

Part 4: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183471507287/barristas-bad-heart-part-4

Part 5: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183491865107/barristas-bad-heart-part-5

Part 6: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183594682567/barristas-bad-heart-part-6

Part 7: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183658697742/baristas-bad-heart-part-7

Part 8: https://intubatedangel.tumblr.com/post/183678245687/baristas-bad-heart-part-8

[crazy-hand-official]

on hole

ok so this posts been a long time a comin’ but i finally feel like im drunk enough to talk about (and never shut the fuck up about) one of my favorite bands... Hole

hole’s music has meant a lot to me since i picked up Live Through This at some boring ass used cd store that also happened to sell erotic fantasy novels about good fathers. but anyway. holes music is for women with bad fathers. women who are kind of fucked up and angry about it, too. women who have trauma and scars and are kinda gross. women who were wronged but somehow by the grace of god empowered in the face of their horrible experiences. 

or at least it feels like that, dont it?

that was the main appeal of hole to me, anyway. i fell in love with this album around the second or third listen through. i was like, damn, shes pissed. it was so refreshing to hear a woman just screaming out her frustrations. how cathartic must it have been to be able to not only get it out, but also be taken somewhat seriously? of course hole never got the recognition they deserved. im of the unpopular opinion that they were waayyyy better than nirvana. without sounding kinda sappy... you know what fuck it im not apologizing to any of u. hole totally made me embrace womanhood. it influenced my own, much beloved way to just exist. 

but also i guess i just really love tunes. 

ps im not here for the courtney killed kurt debate lmfao!!

ok so heres the part where i write my onions about their four studio albums 

Pretty On the Inside

their first album and admittedly, my least favorite (that doesnt say much because i still really enjoy it). its sound is much more abrasive. love employs her most guttural screams in this one, but ill get to that. to its credit, its the most experimental but many interpret it as amateur guitar screeches and song bits just hashed together. and maybe theyre right! but what band doesnt have that not-quite-there-yet first album? its an unrefined, beautiful mess. A song title or two is spelled wrong. Garbadge man is one that comes to mind. and for some reason, its just... fitting. its an artistic mistake left in and its so dumb but thats the fun in it! thats the punk in it! they dont give a fuck so why should you? this album is a messy bitch. 

track im gonna nut about: mrs. jones

this song is apparently about a back alley abortion, and its just as brutal. love is screaming, just guttural sounds and expletives and nauseating lyrics. when i first heard it, i was absolutely entranced in the atrocity of it all. shes sweating, panting. i will follow you down the sick drain

other favorite tracks: teenage whore, good sister bad sister, pretty on the inside

Live Through This

their most popular album also happens to be my favorite! the start of it all...

i havent shut up about this album since day one because i just like it so much! she refines her skills and just comes out with a successful album that ties an array of horrible themes and wraps them up in a pretty pink bow. its soft aesthetic covers the dark, sickening themes that make the album. rape, anorexia, self harm, self hatred, violence, abuse... the list goes on. someone i one knew asked me why women with bipolar disorder and bpd love hole so much and i had to bite my tongue but to be brutally honest we probably like it because love had the nuts to scream about taboo themes that are so hurtfully common in our lives. just like how the depressed rally behind the smiths. oh that and the musics awesome. but anyway, the cover is a beauty queen the moment shes crowned. its supposed to represent someone who has fought, clawed, and fucked her way to the top. but look! shes the queen! shes the beauty queen! everyone will finally love her and treat her with respect! and all she had to do was sell her soul. all she had to do was get abused over and over to the point of breakdown. but she made it, didnt she? i mean, look how pretty the crown is!

favorite track im not gonna shut up about: i think i would die

im gonna be super lazy and just copy and paste what i wrote up one time when i talked about this song before:

wait nevermind i cant search for my post through my tag because tumblr is broken. something about breastmilk? ill update once i find it lmao. 

other favorite tracks: violet, softer softest, miss world

Celebrity Skin 

i dont have as many onions on this one. supposedly, love didnt want this album to become ‘the widow album’, but theres a song or two about kurt’s death snuck in there. this albums loud, but not nearly as angry as the first two. in fact, when shes not singing catchy pop tunes about how jaded she is, shes being sincere and heartfelt. all in all, its a fantastic album and my second favorite that hole has to offer. 

favorite track of the album: heaven tonight

ive heard two stories about what this songs supposedly about. on one hand, people say its about two lovers. the girl wants to lose her virginity to the guy, so she drives (recklessly) to his house and dies in an accident. she’ll never grow old, she’ll go to heaven tonight. on the other hand, i heard that love just wanted a fun song to sing to her daughter, frances bean. either way, it makes me want to dance. so idk if its about teenagers fucking or about a little girl who just needed a song, but its cool.

other favorite tracks: awful, celebrity skin, reasons to be beautiful

Nobody’s Daughter

years later, hole released their final album. when i first heard it, i was disappointed. the first track was great, but then.... i noticed her voice had deteriorated significantly due to her smoking and other vocal abuse. and i thought, damn, i really wish she released this when she was younger. she sounds normal when she screams, but i guess to compensate when singing softer parts, she does this kind of weird weird thing when enunciating that... ok i cant pinpoint or describe what exactly it is but it kinda sucks. ‘honey’ is the only hole song that i dont like very much, and its the best song to use as an example when trying to explain how her voice got all fucked. now, we cant all be bowie (whose singing voice only got better after years of smoking). but still. 

anyways, i listened to the album again, and i mean really listened to it. and actually! the smoker voice is the beauty of it! its a woman who is past jaded and past giving fucks about anyone or anything. its songs from a woman of experience. and she still sounds badass! her voice is so rough, she sounds like she could still fuck anyone up. its exciting. 

favorite track to get all sappy about: letter to god

i really found an appreciation for this song. this is a song about someone who cant be saved. and isnt that fucked up? youre so bad, so hated by all of those around you, but no one can hate you as much as yourself. and you try everything to pick yourself up but just nothing works. and everyone has their two cents in what they think will help you. but youve tried every med in the book and youve tried this and that and the other thing, and you come to the conclusion that you just cant be saved. youre drowning. so what do you do? you turn to god, a supernatural all-mighty being. but shit, i hope he can help you. because if he doesnt, fucking nothing ever will. so go write him that letter.

  i never wanted to be the person you see

other favorite tracks: nobodys daughter, skinny little bitch

and thats what i have to say about that!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Chapter 10; I am Mother Wolf Raksha

And here we are guys, the final chapter of the Civil War part of the story. Now as it’s getting pretty late from where I live, I will leave this for now and soon post up the two bonus chap/song fics that I have later on this weekend when and if I have time, I literally have three papers due Mon-Weds. next week. Now be prepared for the FEELS in this chapter as stated before. Thank you guys sooo much for taking the time to read, like or reblog this story and I can’t wait to hear some more comments from you guys :)

__________________________________________________

As Steve carried both Bucky and (y/n) outside they took notice of another jet nearby and standing there was none other than King T’Challa.

“Your highness” Steve said.

“I apologize to both of you. I almost killed the wrong man, the real man responsible for my father’s death will be dealt with”.  It was then T’Challa took notice of (y/n) hanging over Steve’s shoulder and he said, “What happened to her?”  The two soldiers remained silent and looked down sadly.  T’Challa approached Steve and gently took her off his shoulder and held her in his arms.

He gently brushed aside the hair from her face and pressed two fingers against her neck and said.

“She’s alive”.  Steve and Bucky looked at him in pure shock.

“Are you sure?” asked Bucky.

“I can feel a heartbeat but it’s very faint. She will die if we don’t get her help immediately. Take her to Wakanda, my people there can help her. Both of you”.

“What about you?” asked Steve.

“I will personally deliver the man responsible to Berlin, the living will soon deal with him”.  T’Challa then helped get (y/n) inside the quinjet followed by Steve and Bucky.  

Steve pressed a button and soon coming out of the wall was a makeshift bed, T’Challa gently set (y/n) down on it and upon Bucky’s request, Steve settled Bucky beside her in a chair while Steve went up to the controls and T’Challa left the quinjet to deliver Zemo to Berlin. 

As the quinjet took off, Bucky lowered his forehead against (y/n)’s and took one of her hands in his only remaining hand and whispered in Russian.

“Viset' tam wolfie”.

With a struck of diplomacy from the new King of Wakanda, Helmut Zemo was arrested and kept under the same holding condition as they had Bucky in earlier that morning back in Berlin.  

T’Challa’s sister Shuri met with Steve Rogers and escorted him to the sacred and highly secretive Black Panther sanctuary there they would be treated of their wounds and they could save (y/n)’s life. Unfortunately the damage had already been done. 

The Avengers were now forever torn apart. 

Tony went back to the compound to help Rhodes with his newly invented leg bracers that would help him walk after his fall back in Germany.  The rest of Team Cap however could not be helped, due to breaking the law of the Accords, they were captured and were to remain on an uncharted ocean prison known as The Raft.

There they would remain locked up like insane criminals and never again see the light of day. 

In Wakanda at the Science and Research facility in the Black Panther sanctuary, Steve and Bucky had been patched up from their wounds while in another room (y/n) was kept in a coma with wires and tubes sticking out of her.

As Steve and Bucky watched her through the mirror heartbroken to see a child like this, T’Challa came up beside them and said.

“The doctors tell me she has lost a lot of blood and will need a blood transfusion. Unfortunately the blood she has is not something we can easily give her. With whatever HYDRA had given her it does not match with any blood donations we have, except for two”.  T’Challa looked at the super soldiers and they looked at him.

“I’ll do it” said Steve.

“No!” Bucky demanded.  He turned to Steve and continued, “She saved my life Steve. The least I can do to repay her is to save hers. Let me do this”.  Steve looked to his best friend, his brother and saw the desperation and urge that he needed to do this.

“Alright Buck. I understand, do what you gotta do pal”. Bucky softly smiled then T’Challa lead him inside (y/n)’s room where a nurse came up and had him lay down in one of the beds and carefully stuck a needle through his veins to draw out the blood they needed.  Once they took what they needed from Bucky, they attached an IV into (y/n)’s arm and they began the blood transfusion.

Once it was complete, all they could do was monitor and wait to see if any changes had been made.  Even after the transfusion, Bucky didn’t leave (y/n)’s bedside.  He remained eternally vigil by her side wanting to be the first one to see her wake up.

Every now and then Steve would come in and sit on the opposite side of (y/n) and tell Bucky the stories about her back at the compound.  All the small things like her favorite movie, favorite books, what she likes to eat, and the stories she would tell about her tribe of her childhood before HYDRA came into the picture. 

Bucky enjoyed hearing so much about the girl underneath the Bad Wolf and it was the small things he enjoyed hearing about the most, especially when it involved hearing about who she was before she became Hydra’s Bad Wolf.

By night three, a doctor came in to check her vitals and told Bucky.

“Sorry no change”.  He then left and Bucky sighed softly then he said to her.

“You know, the only person I’d seen never run away from a fight was Steve, back when he was a punk,” he chuckled before continuing, “But you are ten times stronger than he was, so let me see that strength of yours to beat this comas ass and open those beautiful (e/c) eyes of yours, huh Wolfie? For your Bucky-bear?”  She remained silent and still as ever the only sound that could be heard was the machines beeping out her vitals and heartbeat.  “Hey, you listening Wolfie? Steve told me about some of your favorite things lately and I’m told your favorite movie is ‘Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron’ right? Well I got to listen to a song you once said really described you best as well as all the Avengers. Boy you—you weren’t kidding. That song….hit me harder than when I fell off the freight train back in 44. Now I’m not Bryan Adams but—how about I sing it to you? Hmm? Will that help you wake up any faster?”

Bucky gently brushed some hair out of her eyes and cleared his throat and said.

“If you can hear this, don’t make fun of my singing, I already said I’m no Bryan Adams”.  After that he began singing Sound the Bugle.

As he sang, his voice would choke with such raw emotion as he thought back on his torture and all the crimes he’s been force to do throughout the decades, but he tried to keep a steady voice hoping that singing her favorite song from her favorite movie would help bring her back.

Because that’s all he wanted, to know that she was going to be alright and that the debt for saving his life wasn’t in vain.

Sound the bugle now

Play it just for me

As the seasons change

Remember how I used to be

Now I can't go on, I can't even start

I've got nothing left, just an empty heart

I'm a soldier…Wounded so I must give up the fight

There's nothing more for me

Lead me away

Or leave me lying here

Sound the bugle now Tell them I don't care

There's not a road I know that leads to anywhere

Without a light, I fear that I will stumble in the dark

Lay right down and decide not to go on

Then from on high, Somewhere in the distance 

There's a voice that calls,

"Remember who you are.

If you lose yourself,

Your courage soon will follow,

So be strong tonight...remember who you are"

Yeah, you’re a soldier now,

Fighting in a battle, to be free once more.

Yeah, that's worth fighting for

Bucky held (y/n)’s hand in his.  His thumb gently stroking her knuckles as he looked at her with teary red eyes.  He leaned down towards her ear and whispered.

“I’m with you till the end of the line Wolfie”. He then came up and pressed a ginger kiss at the crown of her head and fell asleep right by her bedside. 

A week later as Bucky remained by (y/n)’s side T’Challa came in and said that the doctors needed to check up on his vitals since he has been so stubborn to do so the past week.  

Bucky reluctantly agreed after T’Challa promised to stay and watch (y/n) in case she woke up.  He gently kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand before standing up and walked out of her room.  After he left, T’Challa stared at the young girl he had referred to as Raksha throughout the Civil War and looked above him for a moment and whispered.

“Baba, if you can hear me; please send this girl back home. I have a feeling she is not ready to leave us just yet. Call Raksha back home to her pups”.

*My POV* 

I’ve been in nothing but darkness for what felt like forever.  Every now and then I would hear voices calling out to me but I can’t seem to place a face to them. There was even one time where one voice was singing a song to me.

He had such raw emotion as he sang and such a deep voice to it but it was nice while it lasted.  Suddenly a bright light shined right at me and two people came down towards me.

A man and a woman stood before me smiling with such love and adoration. I looked at both of them closely before something clicked in my mind.  I turned to the woman with (m/h/c) and (m/e/c) and choked out.

“Mom?” She smiled widely and I turned to the man and said again, “Dad?” He closed his eyes and nodded softly.  My parents were here. Oh my god I—I can’t believe it.  They came for me. 

My dad placed his arm around my shoulders and ruffled my hair like he used to when I was a little girl while my mother cupped my cheeks lovingly and kissed my forehead.  

I then felt them take each of my hands and we started walking straight towards the light hand in hand.

I felt at peace.  I finally had my parents back and together we can finally be a family again.

‘I’m with you till the end of the line Wolfie’ that voice I’m always hearing said. Suddenly flashes came back to me. 

The tribe’s massacre, becoming Bad Wolf, meeting the twins Wanda and Pietro, Ultron, The Avengers, the Civil War, and Bucky.  I saw him standing over me and he said that phrase again before feeling a kiss on my forehead.

I stopped right in my place and watched as both my parents kept walking forward.

“I—I can’t leave them”.  It was then my parents stopped walking but didn’t turn around and face me. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to see you guys again, see everyone again but—the Avengers, Steve and Bucky. Bucky—he’ll be alone again. He needs me and if I leave him…if I leave any of them now—they’ll be heartbroken forever. So I’ve gotta go back, please. They’re my family”. My parents soon turned around and walked towards me and for the first time in almost a decade I heard my mother’s sweet voice again.

“You have grown up into a fine young warrior”.  Tears formed in her eyes as she smiled lovingly at me.

“You are Mother Wolf Raksha” said my dad.  I smiled happily at them as tears fell down my face. “Now go take care of your boys”. He said again before they both disappeared into the light and I was soon pulled backwards. 

When I awoke, I saw myself in a pure white room. I felt IV’s in my arm and the sound of machines beeping.

“We almost lost fate in you Miss Maximoff”. I looked up to see T’Challa standing by the door of my room with his arms behind his back.

“Where am I?”

“The Black Panther sanctuary. You were in a coma for an entire week, but it would seem the transfusion was finally a success”.

“Transfusion?” I questioned.

“You had massive blood loss when you arrived, the only way to save you was with a blood transfusion from one of the two people who had a similar blood type to the Bad Wolf blood you had in your veins”.

“Who was it?”

“It would seem that you and Barnes have already formed such a bond with each other, he volunteered to give you some of his blood to repay the debt when you had saved him”.  My eyes stared at him in shock.   

Bucky-bear actually volunteered himself to donate some of his super soldier blood to me in order to save me. Oh that sweet, sweet man.

“Where is he? Where are Bucky and Steve?” I asked him.

“They are just down the hall. It’s over now Miss Maximoff”.  I looked at him and let out a sigh before asking him.

“And the others?”

“Unfortunately being King does not grant me access to free your friends. They are still imprisoned for breaking the law, I am truly sorry Miss Maximoff but there is nothing I can do to free your friends or your sister”.  I let out a pained sigh and a few tears fell down my face.

After all this, the Avengers were now truly divided forever.  The rest of Team Cap will never see their families or even daylight again because they are probably locked up in a tight cage kept far away from society. 

Nothing will ever be the same again, nothing.

“Can I see them?” I choked out.

“I would suggest not moving right now, but I shall inform them of your awakening”.  Just before he walked out I stopped him by saying.

“Hey your highness,” he stopped and turned towards me and I continued, “Thank you. You’re not so bad—for a cat”.

“You are not so bad yourself, for a mutt”. He teased.  The two of us smirked at each other before he left to go get Steve and Bucky.  About a minute later, the two soldiers came in and when I saw them I just had to say.

“About damn time you two old geezers got here”. They came up to me on either side and I first turned to Steve who looked at me with regretful eyes.  Just before he said anything, I pressed my fingers to his lips and said, “You’re overthinking again Steve. Remember I chose to side with you from the beginning long before this all went to shit. And if it came to repeating this whole thing all over again, I’d still side with you and go through it all over again with no regrets”.

“But please don’t ever scare us like that again (y/n)” he said with a chuckle as he stroked my cheek gingerly.  I smiled at him then turned to face Bucky.

The poor guy looked more like a sad wolf pup than anything else.  His eyes brimmed red with unshed tears.  I placed my hand against his scruffy looking face and said.

“Seems we’re now blood related”.

“Yeah, seems that way” he choked out as his human hand took mine.  I softly chuckled and he just stared down at me and said again, “You saved my life, I only felt best I did the same for you, Sora Mea”.  Hearing him call me that made my heart skip a beat.

“Thank you fratele meu”.The rest of the day consisted of doctors checking me out and spending the time with my two boys. The next day I was able to walk and move around the facility. 

I was currently in the science and research wing where a cryotube stood and Bucky was sitting on one of the tables being prep. I stood by his side and Steve soon came in and said to Bucky.

“You sure about this?” I had been told yesterday that T’Challa’s research team could find a way to get the trigger words and all the other programming that HYDRA had done to Bucky throughout the years, but he felt it was best that in case Hydra or anyone else who knew of those words were to come here, he should be in cryo-freeze not only to protect himself but everyone else as well.

“I can’t trust my own mind. So until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing. For everybody”.  Even though I understood why Bucky needed to do this, it still didn’t make it any easier for me.

I felt a hand gently cup my face and lift my chin up and I was soon looking into Bucky’s eyes.

“It’ll be okay Wolfie. I chose this, I know you’d do the same thing”. I looked at him with teary eyes and quoted my favorite line from the Jungle Book but added something slightly different.

“Never forget this. You are mine, Mine to me. No matter who comes for you, or how much time may pass. I Mother Raksha will protect you Bucky-bear”.  Bucky smiled and we both leaned our foreheads together.

As tears slipped down my face, Bucky smiled and kissed them away before separating from me.  I held his hand till the last second as he got in the cryo-tube and the scientists closed it up and turned it all.  As the ice formed around him, Bucky looked at me one final time before his eyes shut and he was finally in a peaceful frozen sleep.

I walked up to the cryotube and gently touched it before telling Steve who was standing behind me watching as his friend was placed under a frozen sleep once more.

“Steve, if you ever run into Wanda can you relay a message to her”.

“Of course (y/n)”.

“Tell her, Wolfie has now become Mother Raksha, and that she’s sorry”.

“I’m sure she will understand (y/n), and thank you”. I turned to him and the two of us hugged each other.

Knowing Steve wasn’t going to stay here, I let all my love and respect for Steve Rogers come out in my final hug for him.

“Take care of yourself, and try not to get into more trouble than you already are in”. I told him.

“I’ll try”. He joked out.  We separated and he kissed the crown of my head before gently ruffling my hair telling me one final time, “Good She-wolf”.  I smiled through my tears and watched him leave the room. I turned back to Bucky’s cryotube and phased into my wolf form and curled around it protectively and stood guard of my brother until he could be healed.

*3rd Person POV*

Steve stood outside a corridor looking out a window and King T’Challa walked up and stood beside him.

“Thank you for this” said Steve.

“Your friend and my father, they were both victims. If I can help one of them find peace”.

“You know if they find out he’s here, they’ll come for him”.

“Let them try. Even if we fail, they’ll have to get pass Mother Wolf Raksha first”. T’Challa stated proudly as the two of them stared outside the window. 

Outside the facility a wide spread jungle stood and through the mist revealed a large stone statue revealing to be a Panther and just beyond it on a hill nearby a waterfall, a training temple.