#strong males

[transformers0]

Newsflash to writers out there.

Just because your female hero has a temper and can insult and smash any opposition against her DOES NOT make her a true, strong female character.

Just a reminder: Might does not automatically make right.

To close off with a quote from Peter Cullen (in his humble honesty, who is quoting his late older brother Larry, a Vietnam War Veteran), "If you're gonna be a hero. Be a real hero. Don't be a Hollywood Hero type, with all the BS, and all the yelling and screaming and trying to be tough. Be strong enough to be gentle."

(And you know what? This isn't just applicable to female heroes, but also for male heroes as well.)

[flokali]

Boothill and a corrupt USB with a “love virus”… and you’re the poor, unfortunate engineer forced to deal with him in this state, except his little metal heart has gotten too attached to you and the feeling of overbearing longing that you make him feel… on the bright side, your wanted posters look lovely together ♥︎

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Laios's three Boy Best Friends. And yes, they hate him.

[fitstud]

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 7

Summary - Ten years after the marriage of Prince (Y/N) and Princess Rhaenyra, Prince (Y/N) Royce, Lord of Runestone has returned permanently to Kingslanding.

Warnings - childbirth, childhood bullying, general HOTD warnings, fighting

“Keep breathing.” The midwife instructed Rhaenyra. “And push.” 

Rhaenyra clutched (Y/N)'s hand tightly as she did, and (Y/N) just rubbed his other hand up her arm, murmuring words of encouragement to his wife. 

“And again.” 

Rhaenyra groaned, turning away from (Y/N) to face the midwife on her other side. She was breathless as she spoke, “I can’t.” 

The babe held no regard for their mother’s feelings as Rhaenyra cried out once more, squeezing her husband impossibly tighter as she pushed. (Y/N) closed his eyes at the sounds of his wife’s cries, repeating a mantra of soothing and encouraging words as she labored. 

“A boy, your graces.” (Y/N) opened his eyes as the piercing cries of a babe echoed through the room. 

Rhaenyra breathlessly chuckled, releasing (Y/N) to reach for the babe, “Healthy?” 

“Kicking like a goat, princess.” 

(Y/N) beamed, pressing a kiss to his wife’s sweaty forehead as she held the babe. “Well done, ñuha jorrāelagon. 

The peace did not last more than a moment as soon Elinda was bursting through the door, Rhaenyra and (Y/N) turned to look at her as she paused in front of them. “Princess, the Queen has requested the child be brought to her…immediately.” 

“Why?” Elinda did not answer, only bowing her head and (Y/N) pitied the poor girl. He felt Rhaenyra move to get up beside him, and he grabbed her, mindful of her recent labor and the babe in her arms. “I’ll take him myself.” 

“You should remain abed, Rhaenyra-” (Y/N) protested. 

“Yes, I should!” She snapped at him, before sighing and turning to her handmaidens. “Help me dress.” 

(Y/N) opened his mouth to protest more as Rhaenyra handed the babe off to him and a fresh dress was brought over to her. But she just shook her head, “I must bring him myself, (Y/N), or she will not be satisfied.” 

(Y/N) scoffed, but turned his attention away from the stubborn princess as the babe began to cry. He gently shushed him, bouncing him lightly up and down. He watched as Rhaenyra birthed the afterbirth, and she did not meet his stern gaze as her maid’s finished cleaning and dressing her. Rhaenyra took the babe back, despite (Y/N)’s protests, as they exited the chambers. 

“Will you at least take my arm?” (Y/N) grabbed the arm she held out as she slowly limped through the halls. She paused at the start of the stairs, bending in pain. “What? Rhaenyra what is it?” 

“Fuck,” She whispered, before holding her head high and steeling her expression. “Just walk.” 

(Y/N) lifted the front of her dress with his free hand, “This is ridiculous. What could she possibly want?” 

“You know what she wants.” 

“I thought we were past her attempts at undermining your position.” The only response Rhaenyra gave was a wince and they continued up the steps. 

“Princess, Prince (Y/N), it is a privilege to be amongst the first to congratulate you.” 

“Thank you, Lord Caswell.” 

“If I may be of any service.” (Y/N) rolled his eyes at the lord. 

“The day may yet come, my Lord.” Rhaenyra responded, wincing only a few steps later and once again bending in pain. (Y/N) caught her, holding her upright. 

“That’s enough.” (Y/N) said, making to turn around. “We’re turning back. Alicent can come to us if she wishes.” 

“No.” (Y/N) scoffed, but Rhaenyra continued. “Not unless you wish to carry me down those fucking stairs.” 

(Y/N) looked at the babe in Rhaenyra’s arms, and just shook his head. He gathered up her dresses again and helped her finish her walk. “This is absurd, Nyra.” 

Rhaenyra just made a noise of agreement limping stone faced to the Queen’s chambers. Ser Criston Cole was stationed outside the Queen’s door, and (Y/N) glared at him as the knight bowed and opened the door for them both. Alicent was standing, waiting for them, as they entered. She turned to look at the parents, feigning surprise at their presence. 

“Rhaenyra!” Alicent said, “You should be resting after your labors.” 

(Y/N) scoffed, rolling his eyes at the woman before guiding Rhaenyra to sit. 

“I have no doubt that you would prefer that, your grace.” 

“Talya, fetch a cushion for the Princess.” 

“There’s no need.” Rhaenyra said, but (Y/N) saw the way she winced at the small movements she made to get comfortable. The maid positioned the pillow under Rhaenyra anyways, and Alicent dismissed her handmaidens. Before she could speak, however, Viserys entered the chambers, a smile plastered on his sickly face. 

“What happy news this morning.” 

(Y/N) smiled, “Indeed, your grace.” 

“Where is he?” Rhaenyra handed the babe off to (Y/N), who turned toward his uncle. “Where is my grandson?” (Y/N) placed the babe in Viserys’ arms, smiling as his uncle cooed over the boy. “A fine prince. Sturdy, he will make a fearsome knight.” 

“Does the babe have a name yet?” (Y/N)’s smile immediately fell at the sound of the Queen’s voice, turning to face her. 

“We have not-” 

“Joffrey.” (Y/N) paused at Rhaenyra’s words. She smiled at him as she continued. “He’ll be called Joffrey.” 

“That’s an unusual name for a Targaryen.” Alicent’s mouth curled up. 

“He is a Royce,” (Y/N) said, unable to keep his disdain out of his voice. Alicent had never been kind to his sons, spreading ill rumors about the source of their dark features as if their father wasn’t a Lord of the Vale. 

Before anyone else could respond, Viserys spoke once more, “I do believe he has his father’s nose.” 

(Y/N) smiled, and Alicent rolled her eyes. Clearing his throat (Y/N) tore his gaze from the Queen turning toward his uncle. “If you don’t mind, uncle. Your daughter has exerted herself heroically and should rest.” 

Viserys nodded, and Rhaenyra stood up with (Y/N)’s help. But before they could take the babe from the King, Alicent stepped in front taking him into her arms. Both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra tensed as they watched Alicent with Joffrey, as Viserys approached his daughter (Y/N) followed after the Queen. 

He watched her carefully, motioning for her to give his son back to him. She smiled at him as she handed him back, although it did not reach his eyes. “Do keep trying Prince (Y/N), sooner or later you will get one with your eyes.” 

(Y/N) returned her false smile, “He has the eyes of my ancestors, Queen Alicent. It does not matter which ones.” 

“I do not understand why you must always respond to her, (Y/N).” Rhaenyra said as they walked side by side back to her chambers. “You are only giving her the satisfaction of angering you.” 

“Should I just stand back and watch as she makes vile accusations about our sons.” 

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, limping ahead of him. “You seemed content with watching for the first ten years of our marriage.” 

“Rhaenyra,” (Y/N) picked up his pace to catch up with his limping wife. “My absence was necessary.” 

“Yes,” Rhaenyra did not meet his eyes. “Certainly necessary in Alicent’s plan to undermine me. It was after all your continued absence that let the rumors spread so far.” 

Rhaenyra continued the walk in silence, and with that (Y/N) knew the conversation was over. She reached the chambers, where Jace, Luke, and Harwin were already waiting for the couple. Harwin stood at the sight of them both, which in turn caused Jace and Luke to notice their presence. 

“Mother,” Jace stood, rushing over to a pot placed upon leather on the table. “Look.” 

“We chose an egg for the baby.” Luke spoke. 

“Ah, that looks like the perfect one.” Rhaenyra smiled, as Harwin helped her lower herself into a chair. 

“I let Luke choose.” 

“Thank you, Jace.” 

(Y/N) smiled, walking slowly over to Ser Harwin. “That was kind of you, Jace.” 

“Not every day an egg leaves the Dragonpit, your graces. I thought it best to escort the lads.” 

“Rhaenyra and I thank you, Commander.” (Y/N) smiled, holding Joffrey up for Harwin to take.

Harwin smiled, taking the bundle gently from (Y/N)’s arms. “Another boy I heard. What a fine knight you are going to make.” 

“His name is Joffrey.” Rhaenyra said, and Harwin hummed, bouncing the babe. (Y/N) smiled at the sight of the two of them, looking over to Rhaenyra who met his gaze with a smile of her own. 

“Father,” (Y/N) turned just in time to catch his two eldest before they ran right into Harwin. “Please may I hold Joffrey.” 

Luke and Jace both reached for the babe, who Harwin dutifully held out of their reach. “No, no. You two must go back to the Dragonpit.” The boys groaned, making their father laugh as he gestured for the kingsguard outside their door to escort them. (Y/N) shut the doors behind the boys as they left, hearing Harwin speak to Joffrey behind him. 

“You’re asleep in front of the Commander of the City Watch.” Harwin mused. “Terrible lack of respect.” 

“A certain insolence runs in the family, I’m afraid.” Rhaenyra smiled, shooting (Y/N) a look as he took a seat next to her. 

He blinked, “What?” 

Harwin laughed, “Nothing, love. Nothing at all.” 

(Y/N) frowned, leaning back into the cushions of the seat. Rhaenyra let her head fall on his shoulder, and his hands found their way into her messy hair. “I left you two alone for too long, you’ve teamed up against me.”

“Did you give your cousin a pig?” (Y/N) asked, already knowing the answer by the look on the two boys' faces. Viserys had come to the Lord of Runestone with his wife’s worries earlier that day, and (Y/N) had just sighed, promising his uncle he would deal with it.

This was not the first of these types of incidents, however, it was the first (Y/N) was present for; only having returned permanently to Kingslanding three moons prior. Rhaenyra had written to him of the boys’ behavior multiple times throughout the years and during his visits to Kingslanding he had addressed it with them, but his lectures never seemed to take hold in his sons’ heads. 

Neither boy responded, and (Y/N) pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He desired Rhaenyra’s presence, the boys more inclined to listen to her, but Rhaenyra was busy with the king’s council. So while his wife was busy fixing the boys’ mistakes in court he was left to fix them here. 

“Do you have nothing to say for yourselves?” 

Jace frowned, and Luke slowly dragged his gaze from the floor. He spoke softly, “It was Aegon’s idea.” 

“Luke!” Jace shot his brother a dirty look. 

“Enough, Jace.” (Y/N) snapped, causing the boy to shrink in on himself. “Is what Luke said true?”

Jace nodded. 

“Do you always follow your cousin blindly?” (Y/N) asked. “With no thought toward the consequences of such actions?” 

The boys stayed silent, and (Y/N) sighed. He kneeled down to their level, “Boys look at me.” They looked at him, and (Y/N) continued. “Jace, one day you will be heir to the Iron Throne, and you Luke, you are the heir to Runestone. Your cousin is none of those things. He may be older than both of you, but that does not mean you should be following his lead. Especially in matters like this.” 

“We understand, father.” Jace said, and (Y/N) nodded. He stood up, bringing the boys toward him. He pressed a kiss to the top of their dark hair. 

“I want to hear no more about these types of incidents.” (Y/N) sighed, releasing them. He urged them toward the door where he knew there were kingsguards waiting to escort them toward their lessons. “Go to your lessons, I will see you after.” 

(Y/N) watched as his sons walked away, collapsing into the chair behind him. He sent a silent apology to his mother in the afterlife, and he knew she would find joy in his sons’ antics after everything he put her through in his youth.

Rhaenyra was pacing the room as (Y/N) entered the chambers. Joffrey was gone, most likely with his wet nurse, and Jace and Luke had yet to return from their lessons. 

“What is wrong?” 

Rhaenyra paused, worrying at her bottom lip. “Harwin attacked Ser Criston in the yard.” 

“What?” 

“Ser Criston made…unflattering comments about his relationship with our sons.” (Y/N) huffed, turning on his heel but before he could go anywhere Rhaenyra grabbed his arm. “Do not. Harwin is in enough trouble, do not make it worse.” 

“I simply wish to hear what unflattering remarks Cole made.” (Y/N) seethed, and Rhaenyra laced her fingers through (Y/N)’s. “He should not be allowed to speak those lies so blatantly, Nyra.” 

“Right now we need to worry about the consequences of Harwin’s actions,” Rhaenyra rubbed her thumb in soothing circles on (Y/N)’s hand. “You can deal with Cole later.” 

(Y/N) deflated, Harwin’s father would not take kindly to Harwin’s actions. His position as son of the Hand would not be enough to save him from the repercussions of attacking one of the kingsguard, as loathed as Cole was. 

“Come.” Rhaenyra led him to the back of her chambers, pushing open a loose piece of the wall. (Y/N) followed his wife into the corridor, giving her a questioning look. “Your father informed me of these.” 

“Of course he did.” Prince Daemon, corrupter of young princesses. 

Rhaenyra smiled at his tone, although (Y/N) could tell it was only half-hearted. (Y/N) followed her throughout the corridors, both walking silently as they went. (Y/N) held his breath as the sound of the Hand’s voice carried through the corridor, inching closer and closer to the room. 

“It fills me with unrelenting shame.” 

“So that’s what this is about then?” Harwin scoffed. “Your shame.” 

“Our shame, Harwin!” (Y/N) flinched at the volume of the Hand’s voice, and Rhaenyra grabbed his hand, squeezing it. “Shame on the whole of House Strong.” 

“What? Because I laid my hands on that insufferable Cole, the son of a steward?” 

“He is a knight of the kingsguard now-” 

“He assailed Prince Jacaerys, the future heir to the throne.” 

The sound of shouts from both men was too loud for (Y/N) to make out any words, but he could hear and see items being thrown across the room. He’d thought he escaped this type of arguing when he left Runestone, but it seemed even Kingslanding was not safe from petty infighting. 

“You have laid us open to accusations of an uglier treachery.” He heard Rhaenyra’s breath hitch next to him, and (Y/N) frowned. 

“And what treachery is that?” 

“Don’t play the fool with me, boy. Your intimacy with the Princess Rhaenyra, not to mention Prince (Y/N),” (Y/N) winced, “Is an offense that would mean exile and death for you, for them, for the children!” 

“It is rumor only. Spun by the Princess’ rivals.” 

“There are people in this court who believe otherwise. You are lucky His Grace the King does not accept these rumors, it is his belief alone that stands between you and a headsman.” 

“I wish my father affected a similar belief.” 

“Have I not these many years? And yet today, you publicly assaulted a Knight of the Kingsguard, knowing the rumors, in the defense of the children of your-” 

Rhaenyra turned away, covering her mouth as she started her descent back to her chambers. (Y/N) watched Harwin’s reaction to his father’s words, unable to help the small smile that graced his face at the commander’s response. 

“You have your honor and I have mine.” 

By the time (Y/N) returned to the chambers, Rhaenyra was sitting on the couch, her head in her hands. (Y/N) walked up behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulder rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her. He placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck. 

“We will figure this out.” (Y/N) whispered. He could tell Rhaenyra did not believe his words, in truth he didn’t truly believe them himself. He had hoped when Gunthor left Runestone, finally allowing him the freedom to leave Gerold as his steward as he left for Kingslanding, that he had left this type of drama behind him. But it seemed he’d forgotten the Queen and her sworn protector seemed desperate to undermine Rhaenyra, her children, and those around her at any chance they got. 

(Y/N) sighed, walking toward the door. He opened it enough to speak with the guard outside. “Can you please summon Ser Harwin?” 

The guard nodded, bowing before walking off. Harwin walked through the doors only ten minutes later, sighing at the sight of the two royals as he entered. Rhaenyra did not speak as he entered, but (Y/N) stood. 

“What were you thinking?” (Y/N) seethed. “Did you really think you could get away with assaulting Cole in the middle of the yard?” 

“He insulted your boys. I did nothing you yourself would not have done if you had heard that bastard. I view those boys as my own blood, (Y/N), and I will not tolerate insults from Cole, or anyone, against you or them.” Harwin spat back, immediately deflating after hearing his own tone. (Y/N) clenched his jaw, unable to stop his anger at Harwin from disappearing. Rhaenyra looked up at the both of them, motioning for Harwin to join her where she was sitting. 

Harwin took a seat next to Rhaenyra, and she grabbed his hand. (Y/N) spoke as it seemed his wife did not feel up to the effort. He stood in front of the knight, “There are other ways to deal with such insults, Harwin. You should have come to me instead of attacking Cole.” 

Harwin smiled up at the man, “I do not work in the shadows as well as you do. I am a Strong we fight our battles in the daylight.” 

(Y/N) frowned, grabbing Harwin’s chin. “This will not go unpunished, especially by your father.” 

“He has already expelled me from the City Watch, but I’m sure that will not be enough for him.” 

(Y/N) sighed, looking at Rhaenyra but she just looked defeated. “I just returned to Kingslanding. I have spent years away from you both, and now we must be separated again?” 

Rhaenyra finally spoke, “We do not yet know if Harwin will be sent away.” 

Harwin and (Y/N) made eye contact, both knowing the truth Rhaenyra was denying herself. Lord Lyonel Strong was too much of an honorable man to take this type of action lightly. At the very least, Lyonel will send Harwin away from court in an attempt to put an end to these rumors once and for all. 

(Y/N) decided to let his wife have her small comfort. He pressed a kiss to her head, “Of course. We will just have to see.”

“Be good to your mother lads. I’ll visit when I can”  Harwin spoke to the boys. “But that may be some time” 

(Y/N) watched as Jace ignored the man, practically running to him and Rhaenyra. 

“Jace.” Rhaenyra said softly, and (Y/N) gently ran his fingers through his son’s hair. Harwin approached the three, four counting Joffrey asleep in his mother’s arms. 

“I will return.” Harwin promised, taking Jace’s chin in between his fingers to force the boy to look at him. “I promise.” 

He looked to (Y/N), who bit his tongue not trusting his voice enough to speak. (Y/N) just stared at the knight, hoping his expression would convey all the emotion he seemed unable to be able to put into words. Whatever Harwin saw in the prince’s face seemed enough for the man as he turned to Rhaenyra. 

He bent down, pressing a kiss to Joffrey’s forehead. “I will be a stranger when we meet again.” 

He looked up, making eye contact with Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra’s eyes were watering, and she bit her lip as the knight looked at her. Harwin sighed, “Princess.” 

He turned to (Y/N), “My Prince.” 

Harwin gathered his things walking out of the room. (Y/N) felt Jace lunged forward, and the boy escaped his grasp before the man had a chance to stop him. (Y/N) ran after him, Rhaenyra following close behind. Luke seemed almost indifferent to the whole event watching everything from his place on the floor. 

Jace stopped just outside the door, stepping away from both his parents as they approached. 

“We will exchange letters by raven won’t that be fun?” Rhaenyra said in an obvious attempt of an olive branch. 

“Is Harwin Strong my father?” (Y/N) tensed at Jace’s question. “Are the rumors true, am I a bastard?” 

“No.” (Y/N) said, grabbing the boy’s shoulder. “You are a Targaryen and a Royce, what they say does not matter.” 

He kissed his son’s forehead, and Rhaenyra ushered Jace into the room. She turned to (Y/N), watching him as he looked down the now empty hallway. She opened her mouth to speak but (Y/N) cut her off. 

“I am going to the yard.” 

Rhaenyra watched as her husband stormed off, sighing and taking Joffrey back inside the room. 

She found (Y/N) hours later, he had upgraded from abusing the straw men of his youth to abusing the poor knights in the yard. She watched him knock down two knights before approaching. The third knight that (Y/N) had taken an interest in paused at the sight of the princess allowing (Y/N) to knock him to the ground. 

“A word?” Rhaenyra said, and (Y/N) paused, turning to face his wife. Breathing heavily the Lord of Runestone walked over to her. “We’re finished here, we're leaving.” 

(Y/N) furrowed his eyebrows,“What of your offer? Jace and Helaena?” 

“I have been undermined and made a spectacle. They whisper about us in the corridors.” Rhaenyra said, “Well, let’s leave them to it.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Dragonstone or Runestone?” 

“Dragonstone.” Rhaenyra said, and (Y/N) nodded again. It would’ve been easier for the prince to have his family at Runestone, so that he did not have to leave them to check on the castle and its holdings, but Runestone had enough trouble holding Vermithor. (Y/N) doubted it could hold four, five when Joffery’s egg hatched, dragons. “We should’ve left years ago.” 

Rhaenyra turned to leave. 

“What of your position?” (Y/N) asked, and Rhaenyra paused, turning to him. “We have always known if you were absent from court she would pour her poison in your father’s ear.” 

“Our absence is necessary if we wish to spare our boys more pain.” Rhaenyra said, smiling at her husband before walking back into the keep. 

(Y/N) smiled as he watched her walk away.

---

Translations -

Ñuha jorrāelagon - My love

[peupeugunn]

i've read so many fics and seen so many posts where people talk about what jon snow's birth name should be. "no it's NOT aegon that's stupid" "what if it's aemon after the maester" "what about daemon lol?" "what about jaehaerys cause they're both j names" "but what if it IS aegon??"

well have you considered the funniest possible thing lyanna could have named her child:

jacaerys.

[clockworkswans]

having your male lead jump into a swimming pool and look so freaking fine whilst he yearns is new levels of unfair for my weak-willed feminine sensibilities

[needsukunainmymouth]

Yknow that tweet that said that "you ever been so sub that other subs started to dom you?" that's literally gojo and geto let's be fr

[testoster0ne]

logan

[fitstud]

Beach day 😎

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 4

Summary - In the weeks leading up to the royal wedding, Prince (Y/N) spends his time getting used to the workings of his uncle’s court, Princess Rhaenyra attempts to better understand her betrothed, and Prince Daemon leaves for Dragonstone with hopes that his son will find his fire.

Warnings - classic Daemon behavior (the man's got anger issues), general HOTD warnings, injuries

The sunlight burned through (Y/N) like Dragonfire, and he groaned, head pounding, he turned over in his bed and pulled the bedding up to cover his face. He heard a man laugh at his actions, causing him to groan again. (Y/N) silently prayed to the old gods as he slowly opened his eyes, pulling the bedding down slightly. 

He was greeted by his father’s smug face peering down at him, “Did you have a fun night?” 

“What do you want, father?” (Y/N) shut his eyes again. 

“I am flying to Dragonstone.” Daemon said, “I will be gone for a while.” 

(Y/N) ran his hand down his face. “I am sure someone would have informed me, you did not have to wake me.” 

He felt the bed dipped near his legs, and opened his eyes to see his father sitting on his bed. “I wished to say goodbye.” 

“You never have before.” 

Daemon scoffed, giving his son a long level look. “Must you make everything an argument?” 

(Y/N) sat up, letting the blankets pool by his hips, “I was simply pointing out a fact.” 

Daemon glared. “You were acting like a child.” 

The only response (Y/N) gave was a hum, which seemed to agitate his father further. He reached (Y/N) before the teen could have time to respond, grabbing his face harshly and digging his fingers into (Y/N)’s cheek. (Y/N) struggled, but his father’s grip only grew tighter. 

“You can blame me for the strain in our relationship, (Y/N).” Daemon seethed, “But know this, your mother is not as blameless as you would like to believe” 

“Liar.” 

Daemon released (Y/N)’s face, hand moving to gently cup this stinging skin, “I have never lied to you. Not once, and I do not intend to start now.” 

(Y/N) averted his gaze, and when he received no verbal response from his son Daemon sighed. He stood up, straightening his tunic. “I will be back in time for the start of the celebrations. You should dress, Rhaenyra will come looking for you soon enough.” 

Daemon turned on his heel to leave, and (Y/N) opened his mouth to call out but thought better of it and silenced himself. He watched his father walk out of the room, flopping back down onto his bed with a sigh. Servants soon entered the room, and (Y/N) laid there as they worked. 

“We have brought food, and laid out clothes for you, my prince.” 

“Thank you. I will dress and eat on my own, you may go.” 

(Y/N) dressed and ate in silence. He chuckled at the dragon-embroidered coat laid out for him, putting it away in favor of a plain brown coat. He accepted the rings laid out for him, adoring his fingers with the metal and gems. He brushed his hair back into a neat bun, smiling to himself when in the mirror he saw Rhaenyra enter his chambers behind him. 

“Good you are awake.” 

“My father paid me a visit.” (Y/N) turned to face her. 

“Daemon?” Rhaenyra stood in front of him, pulling a loose piece of hair from his bun. “Why?” 

“He wished to say goodbye.” (Y/N) said, “He is leaving for Dragonstone.” 

“To what end?” 

“We did not get to that part.” 

Rhaenyra clicked her tongue knowingly, “You two fight like children.” 

“He started it.” 

“Oh I doubt that.” Rhaenyra laughed. She grabbed his hand, tugging him up from his seat. “Come, I wish to go flying.” 

“You do not need me for that, Nyra.” 

She tugged him along, smiling at him. “Come.”

She dragged him through the halls, laughing as they went, and (Y/N) followed, smiling at his cousin. 

His weeks at Kingslanding had been more pleasant than he had expected. His cousin had taken the task of showing (Y/N) around the keep and its courtiers. Rhaenyra had introduced him to her dragon, Syrax, just days after their official betrothal, finding delight in (Y/N)’s wariness around dragons. 

“Perhaps I could have a new saddle made, one fit for two?” Rhaenyra said as (Y/N) finally allowed himself to relax by the dragon. “Or, perhaps you could claim your own.” 

“I fear I am content as a spectator.” 

King Viserys seemed delighted in the activities of the two, likely priding himself on a match well made. (Y/N) paid his uncle's pride little mind, focusing his attention on his newly betrothed. He found himself genuinely enjoying Rhaenyra’s company, seeking her out even when he had no real need for her. He was glad to have found friendship with his cousin if nothing more. 

“My Princess,” Ser Harrold nodded to them as they approached, three stable boys leading steeds behind them. “My Prince.” 

“Ser Harrold,” (Y/N) smiled at the knight, another surprising friendship in the court. “Will you be keeping me company at the Dragonpit today?” 

Rhaenyra scoffed, “I thought I was your company.” 

“How can you be my company from atop a dragon?” (Y/N) asked, mounting the horse given to him. 

Rhaenyra followed suit, “You can always join me.” 

“Then who would keep Ser Harrold company?” (Y/N) heard Ser Harrold sigh, and he gave him a smile. 

“Keep yourselves company then.” And with that Rhaenyra took off to the surprise of the two men. He and Ser Harrold spurred their horses, racing after the princess. 

The three rode to the Dragonpit in relative silence, (Y/N) breathing in the fresher air deeply, he hadn’t grown as used to the stench of Kingslanding as he had hoped. Rhaenyra seemed more relaxed herself the closer they got to the Dragonpit. 

Syrax was already outside the Dragonpit when they arrived, chirping at the sight of the riding party. Rhaenyra dismounted eagerly, and (Y/N) followed her lead. Rhaenyra pressed her face to Syrax’s side, and (Y/N) smiled at the sight. He stepped up to the dragon, pressing his palm next to Rhaenyra’s head. Syrax rumbled at the touch, and Rhaenyra turned to smile at her betrothed. 

“She likes you.” 

“I am glad,” (Y/N) said, “I’m far too young to become dragon food.” 

Rhaenyra playfully swatted at his shoulder, “You’re ridiculous.” 

(Y/N) took his place next to Ser Harrold, watching Rhaenyra take to the sky. (Y/N) walked toward the Dragonpit, taking in the vast cavern. The dragonkeepers were always eager to talk to the young prince, answering his questions about their profession happily. One of the last features of Old Valyria left to the world would always be interesting to (Y/N), even if he had no desire himself to claim the sigil of his father’s house.

When Rhaenyra returned, Syrax landed in front of the prince bowing her head, and (Y/N) obliged the dragon’s wishes and softly rubbed her snout. Rhaenyra dismounted, hair windswept, and face flushed. She smiled at the sight of her betrothed and Syrax, she grabbed his free arm and rested her forehead against his bicep. 

“Do you have any plans for today?” Rhaenyra asked, looking up at (Y/N). 

He smiled at her, “I was going to watch the training in the yard, unless you have other ideas.” 

She shook her head, blushing softly, but enough for (Y/N) to take notice. “No, no, I was just wondering if I could join you.” 

“Of course.” 

They rode slowly and silently back to the keep, Ser Harrold trailing just far enough behind them to give the illusion of privacy. Rhaenyra glanced over to the prince every so often, but as soon as (Y/N) would catch her eye she would look away. 

The knights were already training when they reached the yard, Ser Criston leading the session. They handed the reins of their mounts to the stable boys, and Rhaenyra followed (Y/N) as he took a place off to the side to watch the spectacle. 

(Y/N) spent most of his time in the yard at Runestone, but he felt more out of place in the yard of the Red Keep than he’d ever felt in his life. He didn’t know these knights, and they didn’t know him. He could feel their eyes sizing up the son of the famous Daemon Targaryen every time he moved through the yard. 

“Will you be joining us today, my prince?” (Y/N) turned at the sound of the voice, coming face to face with a tall man with long brown hair, and soft eyes. The man smiled at him and Rhaenyra, nodding to the princess. “Princess.” 

“Ser Harwin.” Rhaenyra smiled, “(Y/N) this is Ser Harwin Strong, Commander of the City Watch, and son of The Hand.” 

(Y/N) eyed up the man. “Ah. Well, it’s nice to be able to put a face to the name. I’ve heard much about you Ser Harwin.” 

“Good things I hope.” 

“Very good.” (Y/N) smiled at the man, and Rhaenyra made a sound under her breath. (Y/N) looked at her, and she just gave him a look that made his skin hot under his tunic. 

Rhaenyra cleared her throat, looking between the two men, “You have not answered Ser Harwin’s question, (Y/N). You should join.” 

She nodded toward the training grounds, and Harwin extended a blunted sword toward the boy, raising an eyebrow. 

“I-” (Y/N) laughed, “I am not sure the knights would be happy with my presence.” 

“All the more reason to join, my prince.” Harwin wiggled the sword playfully, and Rhaenyra pushed him forward. 

“Do not pretend to be shy, (Y/N).” She smiled, making a shooing motion. “I will still be here when you are finished.” 

(Y/N) sighed, smiling at the both of them. He took the sword from Ser Harwin whose face lit up at his decision. “Alright then.”

“I hope Lord Lannister chokes on his wine.” (Y/N) whispered to Rhaenyra who stifled a laugh. She walked away from the Prince, making her way to the opposite side of the table to pour the lords of the small council their wine. 

(Y/N) was really only in these meetings to observe, at least that’s what his Uncle had told the lords when they’d commented on his appearance. He could tell they had no love for the young heir, likely stemming from their own distaste for his father. He paid them little mind, their distaste of him did not matter when he would inherit Runestone and his wife would inherit the Iron Throne, they could keep their love for all he cared. 

(Y/N) held little love for the politics of the realm, he understood its importance of course, how could he not? But the cunning whims of some fat lord made his stomach twist, and he’d rather face enemies on the battlefield than in council chambers. At least on the battlefield, he could tell who he was fighting and who was fighting beside him, the lords of his uncle’s council did not wear their alliances on their sleeves. 

A commotion at the door of the chambers caught the attention of everybody in the room. Ser Harrold opened the door, and a dragonkeeper came rushing in, breathing heavy. 

Another Kingsgaurd followed him in, “I am sorry, your grace. But there is a raven from Dragonstone.” 

Viserys’ eyes widened, “What is it?” 

The Dragonkeeper spoke, “Vermithor ēza geptot.” 

“Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma geptot?”  Viserys asked, eyes slowly falling on (Y/N). (Y/N) tensed, he knew his uncle was thinking of Daemon as the dragonkeeper continued to speak.

“Gaomi daor gīmigon skoro syt, yn ēza geptot Zaldrīzesdōron. Gaomi daor gīmigon skoriot issa.” 

“Kepa.” (Y/N) spoke, meeting Viserys' eyes. Viserys seemed to understand his nephew's tense posture, and he nodded to (Y/N). 

“I will send word to Daemon,” Viserys stood. “I would talk to my family alone, the council is dismissed.” 

The dragonkeeper took his leave, as did the lords, albeit with discontented grumblings. Viserys’ rubbed his brow wearily. 

(Y/N) approached his uncle cautiously, “Do you think my father is behind this?”

“I do not know.” Viserys said. “It is possible, although I doubt even Daemon can force Vermithor to do anything.” 

“He’s been at Dragonstone for days.” (Y/N) said, voice tightening as he spoke. “He did not give an explanation when he left, and now a dragon has gone missing.” 

Rhaenyra touched his arm, “You are looking for guilt in Daemon, (Y/N). We do not know the truth of things.” 

“I don’t trust him.” (Y/N) bit out, the venom of his voice causing Rhaenyra to step back. 

“You do not know your father, (Y/N).” Viserys said, taking a long hard look at his nephew. 

“And who is at fault for that?” 

Viserys sighed, looking down at the floor. Rhaenyra stayed silent, watching her father and cousin warily. (Y/N) scoffed, turning sharply on his heel and exiting the chambers. He shoved the doors open, paying no mind to the, now startled, guards. His feet carried him to his own chambers, and he turned to the guard stationed outside of them. 

“No one is allowed to enter. I would like to be left alone for the rest of the day.” He didn’t wait for an answer before entering his chambers and closing the doors behind him.

Sneaking through the halls of The Red Keep was harder than (Y/N) thought it was going to be. He was allowed anywhere at any time without so much as a sideways glance, his grandsire's attempts at keeping the boy from leaving at night long forgotten. 

Dressed in a black cape, hood pulled down to the tops of his eyes, (Y/N) silently crept through the halls of the keep. He did not doubt that he’d most likely been spotted leaving the keep at the hour of the owl, but his uncle would simply have to find it in himself to forgive him. He could not stew in the suffocation of his chambers any longer, he needed fresh air, as fresh as he could find in Kingslanding. 

He made his way through Flea Bottom, keeping to the alley’s and the darkness of the night to stay unnoticed by the smallfolk. His hand rested atop the dagger at his side. As desperate as he was to find his way out of Kingslanding for the night, he was not fool enough to forget the dangers that surrounded a man of his title. 

He made it to the Iron Gate unapproached, and a small smile made its way to his face as he slipped through the gate- only to crash directly into someone. He immediately tightened his grip on his knife, taking a defensive stand before he got a good look at the man he ran into. 

Ser Harwin looked confused at the sight of the prince. “Prince (Y/N), what are you-” 

(Y/N) shushed the man, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a dark corner. “You must let me pass.” 

Harwin looked around, “How did you- are you alone?” 

“Please, Harwin.” (Y/N) pleaded, he could not remember a time in his life when he genuinely pleaded for something from anyone other than his family. “I will be fine, I just-” 

He sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. “I just need some fresh air. I won’t stray off Rosby Road, and I’ll be back before they even know I am missing.” 

If they didn’t already know. 

Harwin looked conflicted, “If anything happens to you-” 

“It won’t.” (Y/N) clutched the commander’s arms. “Please, Ser Harwin.” 

(Y/N) could see the moment Ser Harwin relented. He sighed, “Off you go then.” 

He beamed, “Thank you, my friend.” 

And then he was off, slipping silently through the gates and making his way toward Rosby Road. 

He did end up straying off the road, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad for lying to Harwin. He would forgive him if he found out, and (Y/N) would have gone mad if Harwin brought him back to the keep. When he determined he was deep enough in the trees to be safe from onlookers he took his hood off, relishing in the cool air against his skin. He untied his hair, running his fingers through it. 

(Y/N) smiled at the quiet sounds of the forest. Breathing in the smell of the trees and moss around him, it was a different scent from the forests of the Vale, but it was a welcomed scent after weeks of the stench of Kingslanding. (Y/N) inspected the trees around him until he found one he deemed fit, and he started to climb. 

He had been banned from climbing the trees in the Vale after he’d stumbled and fell from a high branch when he was a boy. He didn’t remember much from the incident, kept mostly unconscious with dreamwine until he was deemed fit enough to rise from bed. But his mother hadn’t let him attempt to climb for years after the incident, and his back still bore the scars of where the fallen branches had cut him when he hit the ground. 

But his mother was gone, and (Y/N) was no longer a boy of eight, he didn’t fall anymore. 

He took a seat on a thick high branch, resting against the trunk of the tree. He closed his eyes, letting the agitation of his day wash away. Exhaustion crept down his spine, and when he opened his eyes again he wasn’t sitting on the tree. 

He looked around his new surroundings, getting up from where he was sitting. He was in the great hall of Runestone, it was empty and dark as it often was on the nights where his grandsire wasn’t hosting feasts. (Y/N) walked around, running his hand along the wall as he went. He pressed his face into the cold stone, sighing at the relief it brought to his sweaty skin. A sharp wind cut through him, causing him to gasp and jump back from the wall. Whispers filled his ears as he looked around for the cause of the sound. 

“Hello?” (Y/N) called out, reaching for the dagger he kept at his belt. Only to find its sheath empty. He looked down at his clothes, furrowing his brows at the leather armor. He wasn’t dressed for war, that much he was sure of, but the clothes, and the runes carved into them, were still unusual attire for the young man. 

A glimmer of metal caught his attention, drawing it toward the high table at the end of the room. He walked over, taking in the sight of the sword resting on the table. It was unsheathed and glimmering as if someone was holding a candle right to it. (Y/N) immediately recognized the sword, Lamentation, having seen it decorate the great hall his entire childhood. 

He ran his fingers down the runes carved into the Valyrian steel sword. He grasped the hilt of the sword, holding it up to examine it further. It was perfectly balanced in his hand as he adjusted his grip. He gave it an experimental swing, gasping and dropping the sword when the room lit up. The sword hit the ground with a loud clang as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. 

The light grew brighter and brighter, and (Y/N) had to shut his eyes. He covered his ears as the whispers that echoed through the hall earlier started again, louder this time. The whispering grew louder and louder and the light grew brighter, surrounding (Y/N). 

And then it was silent. 

(Y/N) opened his eyes, looking around the now dark room. He breathed out a shaky sigh of relief, laughing softly to himself. He looked down to where he’d dropped the sword, only to find it missing. He turned around confused, only to let out a wordless gasp as his abdomen flared in pain. He looked down at his stomach, finding Lamentation cutting right through him, blood dripping from the blade. 

His eyes shot open with a gasp, and he had to steady himself before he went toppling over the side of the branch. He cursed at the sight of the sun peeking out from behind the hills of Kingslanding. Immediately he began to climb down the tree, swiftly making his way through the woods and back to Rosby Road. 

His legs were shaky as he walked back to the road, his breaths coming in short gasps. He had to stop after just a few feet to rest his forehead against the trunk of a tree. (Y/N) could still feel the blade in his stomach. He’d never had a dream like that one before. He didn’t know what to make of it, and that scared him. Maester Pate had taught him the histories of House Targaryen, including the story of Daenys the Dreamer and her dreams of the doom. 

(Y/N) quickly banished that thought from his head, taking a deep breath and gathering himself. He was stressed and missing Runestone, nothing more. He started on his way once more.  

He’d only been walking for a few minutes when the trees started to bend as the wind picked up, and (Y/N) ducked as a loud whoosh was heard above him. He threw himself to the ground, groaning as the fallen branches cut his exposed skin. He turned onto his back looking up at the sky, and the breath was knocked out of his lungs at the sight. 

An enormous bronze dragon was flying above him, circling the spot where (Y/N) laid. He stumbled to his feet, watching with wide eyes and a pounding heart as the dragon seemed to follow his movements. 

He did the only thing that he thought to do. 

He ran. 

He stumbled as he ran from the beast, tripping over the exposed roots of the trees in his haste. His stomach lurched at the crunch his nose made as his face hit the ground. He did not pause to see if he had lost the beast, for he knew the answer, it was like he could feel the dragon pursuing him. 

He pushed himself up, ignoring the stinging sensation that covered his skin. He continued on, not once looking behind him. The dragon roared, his breath blowing (Y/N)’s cloak like the wind, and (Y/N) pressed forward faster. 

He knew he could not outrun the beast, and the bronze dragon seemed to know it too. The dragon pressed further down into the tree line, tree’s collapsing under the weight of its beating wings. (Y/N) turned to look at it as he ran, screaming at the beast. 

“Keligon!” He cried out, stumbling slightly as he took a sharp left turn. He continued to run, screaming obscenities and commands at the dragon pursuing him. He turned around to catch sight of the dragon, only to skid to a halt at what he saw. He could still hear and sense the dragon, but he could not see it. (Y/N) looked around wildly, taking a defensive stand. He grabbed the dagger at his side, not that it could do much but it brought him some comfort all the same. 

The bronze dragon dove down from behind the boy, causing him to yell. He fell onto his back in shock, dropping the dagger next to him. He closed his eyes tightly, expecting the dreaded dragonfire, but none came. He opened his eyes slowly, watching as the dragon just stared at him, blinking. 

No. 

This was not how it happened. Dragons do not claim Targaryens, Targaryens claim dragons and (Y/N) was a Royce. He would not claim a dragon. 

“I do not claim you!” (Y/N) roared, staring up at the bronze beast. He waved his hands frantically, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “Go! Henujagon!” 

The dragon did not move, staring the young man down as he continued to cry out. He screamed at the beast, trying everything from trying to anger the dragon to trying to scare it, nothing worked. He begged, pleading with the old gods, and the new, to let this be false to let the dragon either kill him or leave him in the woods. The dragon did not move, keeping the young prince on the ground. (Y/N) eventually tired himself out after what felt like hours of yelling at the dragon, and he sighed, letting his head fall back against the ground. 

The dragon seemed pleased at his acceptance, bowing his head to the prince. (Y/N) let tears fall down his cheeks, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

It seemed the gods did not care for (Y/N)’s wishes, and neither did his dragon. 

---

Translations -

Vermithor ēza geptot. - Vermithor has left

Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma geptot? - What do you mean left?

Gaomi daor gīmigon skoro syt, yn ēza geptot Zaldrīzesdōron. Gaomi daor gīmigon skoriot issa. - We do not know why, but he has left Dragonstone. We do not know where he is.

Kepa - Paternal Uncle

Keligon! - Stop

Henujagon - Leave

[jade-len]

i adore how mxtx sorta flipped the idea on the whole top/bottom thing with svsss, and just BL relationships in general.

making bingqiu very open to switching, not making the "bottom" super feminine and actually leaning more to the handsome side compared to the "top", how luo binghe is manipulative sensitive and cries easily, etc. one of the main themes in svsss is literally about sexuality (and possibly even about gender roles).

as a queer asian man myself, i absolutely despise the "yaoi archetype" and it was one of the reasons why i avoided consuming BL media. hell, years ago when i first saw heavens official blessing, i mentally groaned and went, "ugh, let me guess, the bottom is super feminine and innocent, while the top is masculine and experienced." of course, that's not the case now, but it's disappointing how that thought was there purely because of the god awful way fetish-y media portrays homosexual people and couples. because, believe it or not, we are not assigned male/female typical gender roles just because one likes to top/bottom (and even then, it's not even like that! some people have preferences, sure, but it's not so strictly "i'm top/bottom")

so, while i absolutely LOVE the english novel designs (especially luo binghe's cute curly hair, gongyi xiao, etc, and personally believe a lot of the takes from the western artist on the designs are an improvement), i am greatly saddened by people subconsciously assigning shen qingqiu as someone more delicate and feminine and luo binghe as someone super masculine and muscly. like, if you're going to have luo binghe depicted as the western design (i believe this stems from binghe being applied to more western ideals for men, and, admittedly, i actually really love his design), at least don't make shen qingqiu feminine and delicate? don't have his appearance play into the stupid yaoi thing?

i get that people have different takes on svsss, especially how the western version depicts it. but, people just... seem to very over exaggerate the top/bottom roles when it comes to bingqiu (again, these two are, canonically, VERY open to switching).

it's weird, it's uncomfortable, and it comes across as, "so, who wears the pants in the relationship?"

so, can we please have more canonically handsome shen qingqiu? canonically beautiful and pretty boy luo binghe (they literallly state that binghe looks EXACTLY like his mom, su xiyan! while a more handsome woman, is still very beautiful!! plus it is stated several times that binghe is slim, and that shang qinghua made him that way!) or at the very least, a BL couple who actually look like normal people (ok thats a little hard considering binghe is literally supposed to be perfect) and not just a stupid fetishized version of themselves.

and no, i'm not saying that queer men shouldn't be feminine or men who are feminine shouldn't be in a relationship with guys who are masculine, etc.

TLDR: please stop twinkifying shen qingqiu and going against what mxtx defied for us queer men (the stupid yaoi roles). and for the love of whoever you believe in, do NOT think that i hate the english design or people's personal interpretation of characters, i just hate the subconscious assigning of gender roles to bingqiu and how media portrays and fetishizes LGBTQ+ relationships in general.

edit: also i love teardrew's (check them out on twitter!) interpretation of shang qinghua. while i do really like the the eng novel design's tiny scared hamster vibes, teardrew's version just radiates "up to no good, paranoid but suspicious looking bitch" rat man and i love it so so so much. i'm not gonna repost their art bc i don't know how they feel about that but perhaps you can search up "svsss designs" on here, you'll see it pop up eventually lol.

edit 2 (1/16): i just saw someone reblog a post (that im pretty sure was referring to this one because, well, if you saw it i think it'd be a little clear kahxj) that was about how bingqiu switching and completely eschewing traditional top/bottom dynamics was a fandom idea or smth? so now i'm wondering, since i swear i remember that they were open to switching, but it's just that sqq preferred to bottom and/or was just a little too lazy to top. plus, sqq is a pretty unreliable narrator who says he doesn't want something one moment and then he does. how could he say no to bingbing? esp if he seems to wanna try bottoming too. perhaps i'm mixing things up though, idk? so if anyone can find that passage that says he only and strictly wants to bottom or whatever please show me! but i think the point of this post still stands haha (i wanted to ask about it, actually, but when i clicked on the og post's user it turned out that they blocked me ? so that was a little surprising oops. hey if ur somehow reading this, im... sorry for making you want to block me bc of this post? akdhxjj)

[keozrb]

The Doctor: The Strongman

The doctor is a series of story where people go see a Doctor but the crazy old senile Doctor keep on making mistake about his patient. But the Doctor is never wrong.

A routine doctor's visit takes a bizarre turn for Drew, as he finds himself transforming into a collage wrestler then strongman competitor. With each transformation, he must navigate his new reality and prepare for the competition ahead.

Drew, a 30-year-old with short blonde hair, enters the clinic for his routine physical. The doctor's comment about his age being 20 year old leaves him puzzled.

But before Drew could respond, a strange feeling overcame him. Suddenly, he found himself 20 years old, and the doctor mentioned something about joining a college wrestling team.

Feeling dazed, Drew noticed his muscles expanding, his clothes tightening and morphing into college athletic gear. The doctor mentioned his weight - 250 pounds.

Suddenly, Drew felt another wave of transformation. His muscles bulged, and his clothes changed into a wrestling singlet.

Just as Drew was getting used to his new size, The doctor mentioned something about a perfect weight for the strongman competition.

Drew felt another change - he was now over 300 pounds. His singlet strained against his massive frame. The doctor approved him for the competition.

Drew stepped out of the clinic and found himself at a strongman competition. Despite his confusion, he realized he was next to compete.

Summoning his new-found strength, Drew approached the competition stage. The crowd cheered, fueling his determination.

Drew lifted massive weights, surprising himself with his strength. The crowd roared in approval, spurring him on.

Next, Drew pulled a massive truck. The crowd was in awe as he completed the challenge with ease.

Despite his initial confusion, Drew excelled in the competition. He stood proudly on the podium, a medal around his neck.

As Drew left the stage, he felt a sense of accomplishment. Although the day had been strange, he had found a new strength within himself.

[papermonkeyism]

Reading the last book in the Icewind Dale trilogy, about halfway through the book. Okay, I can shrug off random dragon cameos that have no relevance to anything in the story, the flat characterization and the flimsy worldbuilding, but my suspension of disbelief just got overloaded and snapped by a camel.

The protagonist party are in the stereotypical fantasy south (tm) and have bought camels to proceed on their journey, and one of them gets bitten by his dromedary to show what a nuisance the animal is, and the book describes it as having "blunt teeth", and boy my brain ain't taking it.

Like, excuse the entire fuck out of me, have you SEEN dromedary teeth??? Those things have FANGS! And they are VICIOUS!

I'm just flashbacking to the news many years ago when a dromedary killed a wild ass stallion in the Helsinki zoo, that's not a harmless little nuisance, that's a huge arse beast fully capable of maiming you.

Seriously, google dromedary skull and marvel at their weaponry, that's such a great design.

"Blunt teeht" my arse...

[makedonsgriva]

Some fics and fanarts love depicting Xie Lian as a weak little delicate doll who can't even raise a finger to defend himself and Hua Cheng is his knight in shining armour so as to say and personally that's actually kinda very weird.

XL spent EIGHT HUNDRED (800) years alone. That's like all the way from the 13th century to now. He spent a majority of that time in his own company and with no friends and emotional support system and encountered all sorts of problems from homelessness to starvation to sustaining serious injuries to being buried alive.... you name it. He did it all. ALONE. A L O N E.

Also, XL is canonically stronger than HC. Just because he does not need to use that strength does not mean he cannot. If XL and HC would ever come to blows (which they won't I know, the Earth will start rotating in the opposite direction sooner than that but let us suppose hypothetically) XL would SMOKE HC's ass. That's part of the reason why he never hesitated in following a mysterious ghost bridegroom on Mount Yu Jun: he has full faith in his own abilities and that he can defend himself very easily.

Oh also, XL is the one who defeated Jun Wu at the end. We see HC being very confident in his abilities and HC is no doubt scary strong but even he can't defeat JW. If we are ranking characters by strength, HC comes third. The strongest is XL, followed by JW.

Yall take the strongest character in TGCF and make him the weakest in your stories. As if XL can't snap your neck without even breaking into a sweat if he wants to. XL is a wonderful, amazing and such a kind and gentle soul because despite being capable of being a tyrant and having the reasons to be one, he still believes in goodness and kindness.

Oh and this is definitely not to again mischaracterise XL as a perfect mary su character. XL has his dark side. His benevolence only goes so far. Do not forget he almost did unleash the Human Face Disease on the people of Yong an, that he almost killed a guy once while busking because he talked disrespectfully to him. He is both at once. Anyway, I digress.

I think people need to realise that two strong people who can each hold their ground very well can be in a loving relationship. TikTok's "who did this to you" type shit is wildly weird for HuaLian because XL does not need anyone's protection. HC protects XL not because he thinks XL is weak but because this desire for protecting him comes from a place of love. Because everyone gets tired and HC just wants to be XL's shelter.

[chillguy180]

My heart beat doing well 😏 let me know what y’all think