#my friends ocs

[snejkha]

Fullbody of Lore for @monstrous-ideas //

[kittynomore]

i already sent @abbeyofcyn this but also posting it on tumblr to shower her with all the love <333

[ashblooddragons]

The Red Queen (Chapter 7/?)

112 ac

Alicents pov

I sit next to Myrielle in the royal box waiting for the tourney to start and for Rhaenyra to show. I have no idea how she gets away with all she does, if I did even half the things she’s done today I would be forced to be a Septa by my Father, only love and lust for the gods.

I sigh and look over at you and your friends smiling as you excitedly show them your new necklace, you had shown me it soon after so excited and only wanting to show me your new gift.

“Ali! Look! Look! Kepus gave this to me, don’t you think it’s pretty? Oh, I love it so much!” You say and I can’t help but notice you have seemingly had your hair fixed into a proper style. I’ve been needing to fix that, wonder who did. I think to myself. 

“Ah, let me see.” I say kneeling down so I can face you properly as I lift the garnet pendant watching as the rich red of the stone catches the light making it even more beautiful. “Lovely, a beautiful gift for a beautiful girl.” I say smiling when you beam with joy at the compliment.

“Mam– Ali do you have any jewelry that your family gave you that was a ancestirs?” You ask curiously as you play with the sapphire necklace around my neck. Your correction isn’t lost on me but I let you think I missed you almost calling me Mama.

It is moments like this one, where I know I am not alone in the feeling that I am your Mother. I may not have birthed you, nor carried you in my womb but you are my little girl.

“Ancestors,” I correct gently before I touch the necklace on my neck. “And yes, this used to be my Mother’s before she passed. I have many other necklaces, rings, bracelets, and earrings, that used to be hers.”

I know the moment you catch that my Mother is dead, I hae never told you nor have you most likely ever heard this fact so the tears that come to your eyes are not surprising. 

“Your Mama is dead? Is there any way to bring her back, so you can have her again?” You ask seemingly trying to find any way to take my pain away from her passing which seems to bring your young mind to necromancy. 

I can’t help but giggle at your young and innocent idea. “No, and besides she is in a better place, she is happy with the Stranger now, walking through fields of lilies and havig the sun kiss her skin at all times of day.”  I saw with a mournful smile. 

“Is the Stranger kind?” You ask wiping away your tears with the back of your dress sleeve. 

“Very kind.” I say before teaching you more about the seven and what each one is for and why they are important.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I hear the King start his speech before the tourney starts. “Be welcome! I know many of you have traveled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise, you will not be disappointed–”

The King pauses when Rhaenyra tries to sneak in and take her seat. I suppress a scoff when she sits down smirking thinking she got away with something again, and to be fair she probably did with how the King bends to her will.

“When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share, the Queen Aemma has begun her labors!” 

With that announcement the crowd erupts into applause and cheers, small folk and noble alike rejoicing at the future heir to be born. I turn to look at you and see you nervously biting ad chewing on you lower lip it is already getting bloody and chapped. I at times worry if my nervous habit with m fingers has led you to do the same only with your lips. I reach over to hold your hand comforting you the only way I can. you may not say it or show it, nor understand it, but I can tell you worry for the Queen and your future sibling.

“May the luck of the Seven shine on all combatants!” The King says finally finishing his speech witha sigh and sitting on his mock throne. 

I turn to look at you after you tugged on the sleeve of my dress. “Yes, darling?” 

“Where’s Kepus? He said he was going to be in the games, but I haven’t seen him yet.” You are confused as you search for your dear uncle, or should I say Kepus. 

“He will be out soon, but first we have to watch Ser Cole and Ser Aldwin Sarwyck joust.” I say gently smiling when you nod, you don’t seem to like this information but you also seem to understand.

You’ve never cared much for tourneys, finding them too long and too boring. And I can’t blame you, as soon as it gets entertaining it is determined you must not see such violence at your young age. So when Ser Cole unmounts Ser Aldwin you don't clap nor cheer as loud as the rest, only clapping as you know you must.

“Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! I would humbly ask for the favor of ‘The Queen Who Never Was’.” Lord Boremund Baratheon declares holding his jousting stick up to the balcony.

You can hear the chatter of the courtiers gossiping. Do they ever stop? Probably not. I think to myself scowling when I see one of them point to you and your friends giggling over lemon cakes and tea.

“Good fortune to you, cousin.” Princess Rhaenys says obviously not happy with he cousins behavior but putting on a good face.

The less things for this court of vipers to gossip about you, the better. Or that is at least what my father loves to tell me when I even think of running through teh halls. 

“I would gladly take it if I thought I needed it.” He says pompously like any true Baratheon would. 

I hear a pained gasp beside me and turn to see Myrielle looking up at her brother and the lady Cerelle Celtigar seeming to be holding hands and talking. I had heard they are now bethrothed and getting ready to marry in three moons. Such a quick wedding has raised eyebrows as to why they are wedding so quickly, I have yet to hear one that makes sense. 

“Are you alright, Myrielle?” I ask worried as to what has he nearly in tears. 

“Yes, yes, sorry I must have gotten something in my eyes.” She says clearly lying but I pretend to believe her for her sake. That is until I hear Rhaenyra scoff.

“Is that what is’s called when you almost lay with your brother? You know it’s wrong right, to want to fuck your brother or family? That is at least what the rumors say.” She says crudely. 

I turn back and see tears rolling down Myrielles cheeks, whether that be because of shame or rage I can not tell. I can’t believe Rhaenyra’s hypocrisy, she has always found the conquers marriage as beautiful, and yet she sits there berating a girl over a rumor? It must be this that pushes me to speak up, to try and take Rhaenyra down a peg. 

“As if you Targaryens have any room to talk. Were the conquers not brother and sisters, or had I read the history books wrong?” I ask with a smirk knowing I’ve backed her into a corner.

I can see Rhaenyra is ready to lash back when the King clears his throat and when we turn to look at him, he’s glaring at Rhaneyra making her slump back into her chair with a scowl upon her face.

I turn back to Myrielle who is smiling thankfully. “I do not know if this is true, but as far as I’m concerned it is only a rumor about the new lady of court.” I say squeezing her hand reasuringly, before turning back to watch as the Rouge Prince comes riding into the jousting ring. 

I can’t help but smile when you perk up at the sight of him, for if he can bring that smile of pure joy to your little face can he truly be that bad? 

I was so distracted by your excited chatter that you had finally been allowed to make a favor for a knight that I missed the way Myrielle and my eldest brother, Lorent, were staring at each other. If I had I would have noticed the blush on Myrielles face and the look of lust in my brother’s eyes.

“Who do you think he’ll pick?” You ask as you watch Prince Daemon moving his horse up and down the line of knights to choose from. When I see my brother Gwayne I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach put push it down and smile down at you,

“I have no idea, though they musat be a extraordinary knight to be choices for the Prin–.” I say only to stop when I see he picked the one person I hoped and silently prayed he wouldn’t, Gwyane.

“Who’s the one with the tower helmet?” You ask curiously as you lean into me on the seate we are sitting on.

You do this often, looking for my touch and comfort, besides the Prince I am the person you seek out the most.

“My brother.” I say fighting the urge to bite and pick at my cuticles. It is not for my sake but for yours for I will not let you gain such a harming habit because of me, because of my anixites. So I will push them down for your sake. 

“He must be a very good knight for Kepus to pick him.” You say in wonder. 

Or the son of the Prince’s greatest enemy. I think coldly.

I hold my breath as I watch the joust, my brother seems to have almost knocked the Prince off his horse. But on the next joust, the Prince leans his jousting stick downward so it trips the horse making the horse and my brother flip through the air landing with a resounding crash that makes everyone gasp. But I do not get much time to recoup until the Prince is in front of the balcony smirking up at us, or should I say, my father.

“Nicely done uncle.” Rhaenyra says with a smirk batting her eyes ar him. I have to fight the urge to slap her as she seems to forger my brother was just carried out of the tourney ring. 

“Thank you, Rhaenyra, now I am fairly certain I can win these games but what isn’t a little extra luck from the most beautiful maiden here?” He says smiling when you walk up with your friends smiling and waving at him.

“It would be my honor Uncle.” Rhaenyra says breathlessly getting ready to grab her favor when the Prince stops her.

“Not you, I meant the Realms Darling over here.” He says pointing his jousting stick towards you.

The look of pure joy crossing your face mixed with Rhaenyra’s look of betrayal and embarrassment almost made my brothers injury worth it, almost.

You run over to grab your favor only to run back and almost tripping and falling from your excitement, it’s a good thing I caught you or else you may have fallen off the balcony. 

“I made it myself!” You say excitedly as you reach over just barely able to reach before letting your wreath slide down.

“It is a lovely favor, it is sure to make me win.” He says making you giggle as he rides off.

“He’ll win with my favor right?” You ask as you hold my hand as we walk back to our seat.

“If he does not then he must have terrible luck because you are the luckiest girl in the world.” I say tickling your sides making you giggle uncontrollably. 

As the match goes on we don’t notice how slowly but surely the crowd seems to becomes mournful. It is only after your uncle lost his bout and whispered something to Ser Cole that we finally hear the news.

“Ali, please say it’s not true.” You plead tears rolling down your little face. 

When I can’t find a response you burst into tears and sob into my chest as I hold you close praying I could take all your pain and put it onto myself. But there is no gods, or magic that would let me so I sit there holding you and carrying you to your chambers as you cry your little heart out as any little girl should after losing their mother.

This is the necklace I see that Alicent was wearing, the one made of Sapphires from her mom.

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I be lost without you Girly!

Also Nymeria and Myrielle are my besties @sugutoad ocs so give her the love for these magical and beautiful characters!!

Taglist: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @baybaybear1 @sachaa-ff

[tixdixl]

Rule 153 - TWST Ficlet

Words: 3300

Characters: Wén Xiáng, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Riddle Rosehearts, Gia Yugo [ @ramshacklerumble ]

CW: Descriptions of dissociation and memory loss

The sound of turning pages accompanied the murmur of studious whispers. Steam rose from their collective teacups as the smell of peppermint and lemongrass wafted in the air. As the two of spades took a sip of his tea, the Scarabia freshman leaned over his textbook. His finger dragged across the page as he pointed at the text. Xiáng had been explaining the linear progression from one of their homework assignments for Deuce, who seemed to be going up against his personal weaknesses and disabilities as they reared their ugly heads. He barely noticed the porcelain clink against metal as the ace of hearts stirred his tea with a need to fidget. 

“This is so boring…” groaned Ace, “why do we even need to learn this stuff anyway?”

Xiáng glanced up from the textbook, catching a glimpse of the frustration written all over the card soldier’s face. 

“Dunno,” he answered with a shrug, before resuming his explanation to Deuce.

From across the table, he heard the grumble of disapproval before the ace of hearts interrupted him again, “No, because actually- I’ve never once used the pythagorean theorem outside of school. So then why do teachers act like we need to learn it if it's meaningless? This is no different than a normal school. If I knew college would be like this-”

“What?” came the soft, yet tremoring voice of the Heartslabyul housewarden, “You’d never have come?”

His voice had this quality that could shake mountains. Even when he didn’t raise his voice, he spoke like every deliberate word commanded a space. Few times had Xiáng actually heard the softness of volume actually match a softness of tone. Moreover, Xiáng doubted he had the capacity to truly be soft.

“H-Housewarden Rosehearts!” both card soldiers sounded like they’d been spooked, prepared to be roasted alive.

“Hi Riddle,” piped up the Ramshackle Prefect, who had been largely silent this entire time.

“Good to see you, Gia,” Riddle offered them a smile. A flicker of warmth entered his being as he acknowledged the prefect, before a wave of frigidity overcame his disposition. His gaze resembled wild fire as he reverted it towards Ace. Xiáng couldn’t stop his passive contented smile from falling as he continued, “Don’t tell me you’re planning on skipping, or are you considering quitting altogether?”

“What?” Ace growled, “No- I just don’t get why we have to do this stupid assignment. It’s not like it’s going to help us at all.”

Xiáng and Deuce exchanged a look. They had all collectively just recovered from Riddle’s Overblot. Riddle had stated that he would work on himself and his rigidity. But also, there was a truth that Ace had said some pretty horrific things aimed at Riddle; they both had said things, and truthfully, since he didn’t live in Heartslabyul and wasn’t there when the events unfolded, the Scarabia freshman couldn’t tell to what extent either of them meant it. To what extent they resented each other. And truthfully, he hadn’t even considered it until the two of them shared a look. The thought hadn’t occurred to him that heads could roll until the housewarden had spoken up. 

“Have you considered that perhaps you have to learn the foundations before you can apply them?” Riddle challenged him, his ire seeming to lessen slightly- a feat Xiáng couldn’t recall witnessing before. 

He blinked, glancing over at Ace to witness the shift in his expression. His brows furrowed, and the slightest bit of a pout threatened to appear on his face. His scarlet eyes, devoid of empathy, grew colder.

“Foundations, my ass,” Ace growled, “it’s just an excuse to have us do busy work.”

With a condescending smirk immediately rushing to his face, the housewarden placed a hand on top of the stack of grimoires seated firmly at the corner of the table. He leaned closer to the card soldier, his face only a foot away from the other’s. 

“Then why is it you can’t already enchant a broom to autonomously sweep the space without your presence?” the housewarden taunted him, “If it's so easy, why haven’t I seen you using that charm during your daily duties?”

“...just get a Roomba,” the prefect piped up once again. 

Everyone collectively froze. Various expressions of confusion littered the room as the collective turned their gazes to the prefect. The prefect, who had not looked up a single time during this entire exchange, seemed to realize what was happening without seeing it. They raised their head with a completely blank, almost vacant expression - almost akin to Xiáng’s - washed over their face. 

“...does it for you,” they explained in monotone, “No magic needed.”

“Riiiight…” Ace coughed, disbelief radiating off his posture. 

Xiáng immediately reverted his attention to the Heartslabyul students. Realizing he would have to wait for them to finish before he could continue, he slumped back into his seat, no longer leaning over Deuce’s textbook. 

“I never said it was easy,” Ace retorted, scrunching up his face at the housewarden, “Just that I didn’t understand what linear progressions had to do with magic.”

“Would you believe that magic, like science, is mathematical?” the sneer grew ever so largely on Riddle’s face.

“I’m gonna hurl,” the card soldier slumped further into his seat.

Across the table, color drained from the fact of the two of spades. As if hope itself were air, the spades soldier deflated further in his seat. The Scarabia student attempted to offer him the slightest bit of consolation as he placed a hand on his shoulder. They both then perked up just a tad as they caught movement in their periphery. Pulling a seat from across the common room, the housewarden pulled up a seat beside the struggling freshmen. 

“What’re you doing?” Xiáng asked genuinely.

“Assisting you all,” the housewarden replied with the smallest of smiles, “It’s my responsibility to ensure that every one in my dorm is able to succeed academically. Ace’s lamentations aside, it looks like your little study group could genuinely use some help.”

“It’s mainly me…” Deuce admitted, nervousness and shame creeping into his posture, “I’m just not getting this sequence right.”

The housewarden glanced up at the Scarabia student, “I take it you’ve been explaining things to him, Wén Xiáng?”

As the housewarden addressed him, Xiáng felt a bead of sweat emerge on his brow. He offered Riddle a nervous smile as he replied, “Trying to anyway.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“I only really understand this method the way that our instructor presented it?” he stated, unsure of himself, “And somewhere around the movement from step 2 to step 3 has Deuce here all stumped.” 

“Let me see…”

Riddle gently took the book from Xiáng’s hands. As he watched the moment of his eyes, sweeping over the pages with a speed unparalleled, he felt himself almost zone out momentarily. Time and focus seemed to completely slip away from him until the moment Riddle gently cleared his throat. 

“Hey, Ace,” the housewarden asked quietly, “Would you mind pouring me a cup of tea?” 

“Sure, is peppermint fine?” Ace asked nonchalantly.

That question seemed to tear Riddle out of his concentration. He paused, slowly raising his head and looking Ace in the eye. Xiáng blinked. Instantly, he felt confused by the expression on Riddle’s face. He wouldn’t have described the expression as cross necessarily. The twitch in his brow almost preparing for the switch to flip. But why?

“Is it herbal?” Riddle asked, his tone a twinge darker than before.

“It’s peppermint and lemongrass,” Xiáng explained, confusion dripping from his words, “It’s a green tea.” 

A brief pause fell between them as a rose tint began to flush the housewarden’s cheeks.

“...is that… bad?” 

“...Boys,” Riddle addressed Ace and Deuce directly, “Want to explain to me why you didn’t educate the outsider on Rule 153?”

The confusion on the Scarabia student’s face immediately dissolved into a blank stare, devoid of any emotion. 

Rules… the silly Heartslabyul rules that he honestly forgot existed. And whenever anyone reminded him that they existed, he not only found himself punished for his ignorance, but when the rule was explained, he found that the rules were… at their core, arbitrary. The sorts of rules he expected the upper courts would use simply to control the average common folk. And worse, while Riddle Rosehearts could run around playing pretend, pretending to be the ruler of a non-existent kingdom and punish those who slighted him with fake beheadings, Xiáng for once recalled the treatment of those back home. Not quite beheadings, but the cruel reality that the imperial courts cared little for the wellbeing of those from his home. 

It took little time dwelling on the line of thought before he felt a small surge of magical energy, like a sharp, swift zap of electricity, traveling from his head down his spine. Certainly, this wasn’t the worst reaction his curse had inflicted in recent years. However, the quickness of which it reacted caught him completely off guard. A throbbing sensation in his eye and in his head tore him away very abruptly from his line of thought. Whatever conclusions he had been drawing, whatever dots he had connected, all of it had been knocked away. Like a leak in a dam, his attention now stolen away to try and alleviate the discomfort.

He grew stiff, trying to hide the sensation from those around him. They seemed too engaged in Riddle’s rant about the rule to notice. Then again… he wasn’t watching. And the words coming out of Riddle’s mouth had momentarily resembled the sound of a voice reverberating down a tube. 

“It is your responsibility to know and abide by the rules,” Riddle snapped, “Even if he is in Scarabia, he is a guest in our house, which means he abides by our rules.”

Xiáng blinked. His body relaxed slightly as he attempted to loosen his limbs. His eyes drifted toward the cross housewarden, though the right side of his vision had grown blurry and difficult to see.

“Sorry- what’s Rule 153?” Xiáng asked, interrupting the rant. He didn't intend to fully admit his disconnection with the moment, and yet, he genuinely didn’t know and likely had missed it being outlined. 

With brows furrowed, the housewarden’s eyes pierced through Xiáng’s head like nails in a coffin. He seemed to study the Scarabia student briefly before his brow twitched, relaxing subtly. Clearly the housewarden interpreted his blank expression and genuineness in his tone as they were, rather than insubordination. 

“Rule 153: The only tea you may drink in the evenings is herbal tea,” the housewarden stated matter-of-factly. 

“...and who does this rule benefit?” Xiáng asked in a monotone.

Riddle blinked, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“To whom does this rule benefit?” he repeated himself, “I would expect that the aims would benefit the drinker, but in reality, it makes no difference on your health what type of tea you drink. Caffeine intake aside, all of them vary in their beneficial effects. So if the rule pertains nothing to the drinker, who does it benefit? What purpose does it serve?”

In the blur of his vision, he swore he saw the prefect raise their head from their book. And simultaneously, the two card soldiers exchanged a look.

“The Laws benefit those who serve the Queen,” the housewarden stated with full sincerity, “The Queen was always right, and it is our duty to uphold her traditions.”

“So the benefit then has nothing to do with the tea itself,” he remained monotone, “Rather, the benefit to the tea drinkers is remaining in the queen’s favor. Am I mistaken?”

“But of course!” Riddle gleamed, “The Queen’s ways are the only ways! Those who fail to oblige will lose their heads!”

“And what if the Queen’s ways are unjust…?” 

“What do you mean?” the housewarden snapped, his frustration slowly beginning to grow like a strangle weed to a flower bed, “The Queen’s ways are just. By keeping rigid order and making sure those who fall out of line are prevented from creating trouble.”

The Scarabia student paused. The mild throbbing in his eye a painful reminder not to let himself get wound up. As he drew in a deep breath, he cleared his mind a moment. Clearly, the conversation failed to make any progress. A brick wall would have moved sooner than their discussion, like a dog chasing its own tail. 

Opening his eyes once more, the Scarabia student picked up his cup of tea. A few fragments of leaves floated in a lull across the top of the murky liquid. Its aroma nevertheless potent as it had become lukewarm. As he took a sip, the flavor felt reminiscent of an elastic band to skin. Obviously, he had yet to fully recover. And yet despite this, the flavor seemed to bring him back to center. As much as any roller coaster would, he felt the exhaustion creep in. 

Once he had carefully placed his tea cup back on its saucer, his gaze returned to Riddle, who had been expectantly waiting for a response. 

“Let’s back up a bit, shall we?” Xiáng offered, deceptively handing the housewarden an olive branch as he smiled gently, “I want to understand what you mean by ‘the Queen’s ways being just’. Can you lay out for me how the system works?”

“Naturally!” Riddle exclaimed, his condescension drenching his words like a towel that’d been dropped into a sink. The housewarden glanced at the card soldiers, “And you both would do well to pay attention.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

He cleared his throat, “The Queen’s Laws have been written in permanent ink since as far back as evidence goes of her reign as one of the Seven. Each of these laws were representative of the culture and the needs of the Queen at the time. Citizens and guests, much like the Curious Girl, were expected to know and uphold these laws at all times- and ignorance was not permissible as an excuse.

“When a law was broken under the watchful eye of the Queen and her Card Soldiers, a trial would often not be deemed necessary unless requested by the defendant. After all, if the Queen saw it herself, there would be no question as to whether or not a law was broken. And by this understanding, many were sent to beheadings on the spot. 

“But in the case a trial had been demanded by the defendant, the defendant would be sworn onto the stand and several members of the community would be brought forth to testify. The jury, while present to take notes, often played no role in the determination of the case. This was of course because the verdict came after the sentence. Of course, the King had an opportunity to request witnesses, evidence, or even offer his own opinions. But when it came down to the sentence, the Queen always had the say- the only say, and the final say.” 

“So… if I understand correctly, the legal system functions solely based on the decisions and perspective of the Queen, regardless of the evidence, testimony, or actual innocence of the defendant?” The Scarabia student asked before bringing the tea to his lips again.

“That is correct,” answered the housewarden with a smile.

“Then, if the trial has nothing to do with justice, and everything to do with keeping ‘order’ and satisfying the Queen’s whims, how does this constitute a just legal system, with laws that are designed to benefit the people?” asked Xiáng, unwavering in his smile and his tone, “Wouldn’t it be inaccurate, or worse, dishonest, to account the system as such?”

The break in the conversation felt like glass shattering against stone. The color from Riddle’s face drained, as his eyes grew wide. He expected Riddle to fly off the handle in a rage. To sit there, call him insolent. Even go so far as to collar him again. And yet… despite this expectation, Riddle did nothing of the sort. Sure, he stared with an expression of undeniable disbelief but he didn’t immediately scream. He didn’t immediately set fire to the place. Instead, a slow, quiet, almost resistant breath entered his nostrils. His eyes flitted around like a fly, between staring Xiáng in the eye and the teacup in his hand. Another breath entered his lungs before he paused fully. He lowered the textbook in his hands to the table. With a clear attempt to pull himself together, he clamped his eyes shut. His hands wove together with a gesture of regathering composure. 

“Well…” he finally said, opening his eyes, “I suppose if we are to use ‘justice’ by its dictionary definition, in which ‘justice’ is defined by upholding and behaving based on what is morally right and fair, and respectful to the people…”

He paused, clearly fighting with himself.

“Then by the logic you have proposed, and the definitions therein, no. It is not a “Just” system.”

The housewarden then smiled, a mixture of genuineness and cocky attitude, “but it is orderly though, by the circumstances, cultures, and needs of the era.”

The opposing freshman held up his hands, as if to indicate backing off. 

“For sure,” Xiáng agreed, “I never intended to deny that. She absolutely kept things orderly and lawful.”

“...to your point though,” Riddle cleared his throat, “I do have to wonder… what does justice have to do with keeping people in line?”

The freshman hadn’t fully expected to be hit with the same sort of energy that he was dishing out, especially not by the infamous “Rose Red Tyrant” himself. After the times he’d spent seeing Riddle while studying with his classmates, however, he had come to expect a wit and a keen eye for dissecting the things he faced academically. He had reason to suspect that Riddle probably handled himself in similar fashion when it came to other students too. So… on second thought, maybe he should have expected this.

“Where I come from, people are most willing to agree and comply when they don’t have to question if they’re going to die tomorrow… when they know where their next meal is coming from…” he stated, “People tend to be afraid of what they don’t understand, and resistant to what they don’t know...”

He lost his train of thought. The thoughts in his head felt scrambled, but he hoped that what he could convey made enough sense to answer Riddle’s question. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he rubbed his eye. And as he looked back at the housewarden, he noticed an internal struggle occurring behind those usually piercing eyes. 

“Well… even if we don’t agree,” the housewarden side stepped his comment, as if to avoid diving any deeper into that, “I do ask that you try to follow the Rules as you are made aware of them. If nothing else to respect the traditions and culture of our dorm.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ace commented with a groan, “Like he’s aware of literally anything— OW!”

Deuce swatted at the other card soldier, in defense of their friend. 

“Be respectful to our guest,” Riddle chastised him, “At the very least, he’s offered to help study with you, which is welcoming enough. Which– we have carried this on for far too long. We’re collectively getting distracted.”

“...and whose fault is that?” Ace grumbled.

The housewarden shot him a glare, as the Scarabia freshman chuckled lightly from across the table. Flipping to the next page in the textbook, Riddle resumed his explanation, as he began to demonstrate a different method of problem solving for their assignment. None of their heads rolled. And… for once, Riddle’s presence overall felt far more helpful than detrimental. Maybe he was starting to change, even if he was kicking and screaming internally the entire time.

~~~

Tag list: @ramshacklerumble @rainesol @elenauaurs @starry-night-rose @boopshoops

@cyanide-latte @blithesharem @inmateofthemind @theleechyskrunkly @thehollowwriter

@lumdays @twstinginthewind @the-trinket-witch

Lmk if you want added/removed

[popironrye]

This meme just kinda screamed RockCandy 💖⚡️to me

@ria-coolgirl

Since I've been in a bit of an art rut lately, I thought doodling a meme pic would be just the thing I needed to get my hands warmed up again. Luckily, I found the perfect opportunity!

Meme

[mel-loly]

-Some doodles I did of ocs from people/friends I like and think are cool :]

@mrd0ll @yago-undertale @thatotherman001 @shaibonbon @adagiorii @gojicorps

[leenathegreengirl]

✨This wholesome holiday event is brought to you by me and my awesome buddy @legacygirlingreen (she is the mastermind behind ALL writing, design layouts, and visual concepts!) We can’t wait to share this with all of you! ✨

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @justanotherdikutsimp @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream

[hiccuppop]

Sploon trade with @sythiia love u bestie <3!

[hammi11]

Clara van white🎷💎

(not my oc!) (Gift for @lilbluebastard :))

this took long, please appreciate it 😭😭

[inquirewithbillcipher]

Turns out if you try hard enough you can set a sink on fire! Do what you will with this info! Regards! -🌌

The more you know!

(( guest star in this ask the great Dayo belongs to @dipperpines-kin ))

-Bill

[x0starboy0x]

Guys I think she wants him fr fr/j

[juliaswickcrs]

BOOK COVERS :: DANA MAXIMOFF AND ROSABELLA ANDERSON ( oc halloween challenge, day 31 )

for @come-along-pond and @anotherunreadblog

taglist: @bisexualterror @foxesandmagic @iron-parkr @camiemendess @a-song-of-quill-and-feather

@arrthurpendragon @starcrossedjedis @drbobbimorse @kingsmakers @noratilney

@stanshollaand @astarionbae @darth-caillic @mystic-scripture @aliverse

@misshiraethsworld @asirensrage @eddiemunscns

@princessmadelines @impales @waterloou @daughter-of-melpomene @eddysocs

MARVEL TAGLIST: @notxjustxstories @themaradwrites

[static-errorcode]

see if you can find yourself

Heres a scene from the music video I'm working on

The people in this scene are

@rosejelly1244

@alinorianddrago

@multifandomhallucinations

@dreamyerln

@phobiiii

@infinite-ticking-clock37

@toaro-star

And whoever owns this oc

[ashblooddragons]

The Red Queen (Chapter 10/?)

Your pov

I carry the heavy pitcher of wine waiting for one of the lords to wave for more wine. Ever since Papa named me heir he's wanted me to be one of his cup bearers. Nyra wasn't happy about it, nor was she about me being named heir instead of her. 

There hasn't been a night I wasn't guided out of the dining hall because Nyra and Papa got into a fight again. 

I go to fill Papa's cup, I'm a bit too short to see the top of the glass so I have to get on my tiptoes to see properly. I'm so focused that when the doors to the small council chambers burst open and Lord Corlys starts yelling I'm startled and accidentally spill on Papa's lap.

“I'm sorry!” I say as I search for a rag to wipe his lap.

“It's alright, Darling, it's not your fault.” Papa says with a grimace as he take the rag Nyra gave him. I can't help but frown at the cruel smirk she throws my way.

“Four ships have now been lost! The last one was flying my banner! The Stepstones have now grown into a conflagration, yet you sit here and ditter about court business!” Corlys yells as he states at Papa.

It is this moment that makes me hope I never anger him, for his eyes almost appear as if a horrible storm has taken the kind soft eyes I'm used to seeing. 

But instead of Papa answering it is the Lord Hand, Ali's Papa. 

“If you have something to discuss Lord Corly,” He starts but is quickly cut off by Lord Corlys.

“I want to know what is to be done for my ships and men!” He demands

“The Crown will compensate for your ships and crew, and make an offering to the men's families.” The Hand responds will a chilling calmness.

Isn't this important? People have died and they don't seem to care.” I think looking at all the councilman before turning to Papa who only seems annoyed, not worried.

“I do not want compensation! I want to take the Stepstones by force and burn out that Crabfeeder!” 

Papa sighs rubbing his face before leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

“I am not prepared to start a war with the Free Cities.” Papa says shaking his head with a chuckle as if the thought is hilarious in itself. 

This only seems to fuel Lord Corlys rage as he also leans forward on the table, his hands on the table as he glares at Papa. 

And with just as much venom as when he came in, he hisses. “These pirates are not of the Free Cities.”

This sentence seems to amuse Papa as the glimmer in his eyes comes, the one that comes when he hears a funny joke.

“Who do you think provides them with their ships and tenders?” 

It is this that seems to make Lord Beesbury to speak as well. “In all of its history, my lord, the Seven Kingdoms have never entered open war with the Free Cities. Were that to happen, the losses would be incalculable.” 

Lord Coelys only scoffs before saying. What reason does the Crabfeeder have to fear us? The King's own brother has been allowed to seize Dragonstone and fortify it with an army of his Gold Cloaks. Daemon has squatted there for over half a year without even a protest from the Crown.” 

The mention of Kepus makes my heart hurt, I feel tears rise to my eyes as I try to forget when he let me. He swore, he would never leave me, and now he has. What if I never see him again? I think feeling a sb rise in my throat as I turn to fill the pitcher with more wine in hopes no one sees me cry. 

Heirs are strong, they can’t cry or act childish. I remind myself of the words Papa told me when I had cried after I fell and scraped my knee. Why I must stop crying when I’m hurt all of the sudden seems strange, Papa said it’s because I’m the heir but heirs can cry too…right?

I’m snapped out of my thoughts by Nyra speaking. “You have dragonriders, Father. Send us.” 

I feel an instant fear Papa will agree. I’m not ready for war? Neither is Stormchaser. I still can’t climb her alone, how am I supposed to use her to fight in a war? I think as I shake my head wide-eyed towards Papa.

“I don’t want to go to war, neither does Stromchaser.” I plead which seems to make the men laugh as they all start to chuckling as if I said something very silly. Why are they laughing? If Nyra wants to go to war with Syrax that’s fine, but me and Stromchaser are fine right here, where it’s safe. I think with a frown as I look at the lords and Papa trying to find what was funny in my words.

Papa smiles towards me waving me closer, when I do he kisses my head and whispers. “Do’t worry, you and Stromchaser won’t fight.” 

With his words I feel instant relief as I smile up at him before he turns to look back at Nyra. 

“It is not that simple, Rhaenyra.” He says but from the way her brows turn in and her frown another screaming match is about to break out. 

“It would be a show of force.” Nyra says through her teeth. I hate when Nyra acts like this, it usually quickly leads to her throwing things, usually glass or porcelain, and i always end up with some shards stuck to my legs and at times my arms. 

Lord Corlys seems to agree with Nyra though as he says. “At least the Princess has a plan.” 

This seems to please Nyra as she stands straighter and smirks victorusly, though I think she’s gotten something in her eyes again as she’s blinking them a lot as seh looks at Lord Corlys. 

“Then by all means Lord Corlys, send your daughter of only seven and boy of thriteen off to war upon their dragons. But I am not risking my girls, let alone my heir. And know this, if you go to war, you will not get any support from me, nor the Crown.” Papa says as he strokes my hair and glares at Lord Corlys.  

This seems to only make Lord Corlys furious as he storms out of the chambers. The Lord Hand looks towards Nyra as she’s about to speak again and me as I tug on my Papa’s sleeve telling him not to let Laena go to war, and suggests that me and Nyra pick out the new guards for the Kingsguard. 

“Yes that is a great idea, besides you have been in need of your own guard for far too long.” He says patting my head before waving me and Nyra off with Ser Harrold. 

We walk silently, the only sound filling the space being the swish and sway of me and Nyra's dresses, and the clang of Ser Harrolds armor. Though I know the walk only takes a couple minutes it felt like hours with the feeling of Nyra's glare upon the back of my head, it felt like hours. 

So when we finally arrive and I see all the men in armor and a stool so me and Nyra can assess them, it is a welcome sight. 

I quickly step up onto the stool looking at all the men as Ser Harrold starts to grab the first podium figure. None peak my interest, none other than the tan one in stained and dented armor.

 He's the one who beat Kepus at the tourney. I think excitedly as I point to him. 

“What do we know of him?” I ask Ser Harrold. He seems to understand why I pointed him out first as he says. “Other than the fact he beat your uncle in the tourney, he has also been to war, Dornish marches I believe.” 

This brings back something Kepus always said. 

“When you have your guard, and he is your guard, he will need to be a man who has seen battle, one who has seen war. Not one of those knights who take down a poacher and think they are valiant, no he will need to have seen and done things that no one can imagine to be your guard. For if he can do that, there is nothing he wouldn't do for his guarded.” 

“Have the others been to war?” I ask as I assess the other men. They all are wearing shiny polished armor, so sparkly they almost appear to be bought this very day. 

“No, though the others have done great deeds as well.” Ser Harrold responds with a knowing look as he goes to kneel next to me.

“Would it be bad to pick the one who went to war? Kepus always said my guard needed to be a man who went to war.” I whisper to Ser Harrold. 

He quickly shakes his head. “No, there are two openings, a man from a great house can be picked for your sister. Ser Criston Cole would be a wonderful guard for you.” He whispers back with a knowing look, as if he knows something, something he mustn't say.

“I pick Ser Criston Cole!” I say loudly hoping the knight will hear me.

As if he appeared out of thin air the Lord Hand comes forward with a displeased look. “Now let's not be too hasty, princess. There are many houses who have helped the Crown that we should honor.”

I frown, shaking my head. “Then you can help Nyra pick her knight to honor those houses. But I asked Ser Harrold and suggested Ser Criston.” 

My words must have surprised the Lord Hand as he stares at me with a shocked expression. I only sigh and turn to Ser Harrold. “Will he join me now or will I have to wait?” 

“You will have to wait, Your Grace. He will be at your side tomorrow.” He says and I only nod before climbing down the stool and turning down the hall to go to my lessons with Septa Martha. 

I hope Laena is there already, sewing lessons are so boring without her pranks. Oh and Ali, she always helps with the really hard ones. I think not noticing the look of rage and jealousy upon Nyra's face as she watches me leave.

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @baybaybear1

[tixdixl]

So

What you are about to see is entirely @the-trinket-witch 's fault. I take 0 responsibility for this. At all. None.

...so here's the Old Man Yaoi Club.

Current club members include Oisín, Lilia, and Rajesh (Trinket's OC). Currently accepting new members (must be age 45+). Bonus patches are distributed to former military vets.