#yes i have tubi

[sirani-8927]

I love My Two Dads. The chemistry, the bickering, the laughs. They are completely platonic and yet the healthiest romantic relationship I've seen in a while

[ballpitwitch]

Keanu Reeves Me and Will (1999)

[everythingwasnormalhere]

I am currently writing one of the latest placed fics in my au's timeline

Meaning you're getting Shadow (you don't know her yet but I love her), stablished bunny and style, MARRIED nichole and tolkien (they're the perfect couple frfr), everyone finally having a great life, and a shit ton of character study because I wanna talk about my children<3 (he said, as if "his children" weren't in their mid-20s in this fic 😭)

This fic is gonna be so fun to me because, I'll be able to just go and dump almost all the headcanons I want, talk about the guys' lives after they stop being teens, talk about their futures and about how things are going

I love it, I feel like it'll be one of my favourite stories of mine when I'm over with it<3

[floraleevee]

Need a good fantasy show 🫠

[jeepers-scoob]

The fact that you can't screenshot on basically any streaming service app makes me feral 😡 I'm just a lil guy hanging on by funny lil frames and they won't let me save them!

[drunk-person]

Uncontrollably (One shot)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x cousin!reader

Summary: After long years without seeing each other, Aemond is reunited with his cousin who came from Dragon Stone for a festival in the kingdom. And after a warm reunion in the library Aemond decides, against his better judgment, to visit his cousin's room just as they did when they were younger before her father, Prince Daemon, took her to Dragon Stone. He just didn't count on the fact that things could get so out of his control.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, fingering, Oral Sex, loss of virginity, no description for reader.

Word cont: 3.900 k

Author's note: This One shot is a deleted scene from a chapter of a long fic I've been writing for a while. However, after writing it, I didn't think the scene was so consistent with the story's setting and I rewrote it differently, so I decided to share the deleted scene with you. I hope you like it, and again English is not my first language.

Aemond knew he shouldn't be there. Not after what had happened in the library, he knew he was playing with his luck, testing his own self-control. But he couldn't help it. Y/n was so close, he knew how to get to her, it wouldn't be long now before she would have to return to Dragon Stone again, and then he didn't know when he would see her again.

— To hell with it. — He sighed before pushing the wall and finding himself inside the wardrobe of Y/n's room. Aemond took a deep breath and knocked twice on the wardrobe door from the inside.

— Aem? — Came her sweet voice with expectation and a slight fear outside.

— Yes, it's me. — He replied nervously and then the light illuminated the dark wardrobe as Y/n opened the door smiling at him. Aemond tried, but couldn't help but look from top to bottom, she was only wearing a nightgown with a very thin fabric and a silk and lace cloak on top.

— Hey. — She said shyly as she closed the front part of the slip, better hiding her body from his eyes.

— Hello. — Aemond cleared his throat a little nervously — I thought we would read a little, just like the old days.

He lifted the book "Tales of Ancient Valyria" that he had in his hands, still inside her wardrobe, her favorite book, and Y/n's eyes lit up.

— Well, first you need to get out of the wardrobe. — Her playful voice made Aemond's body relax as he smiled and lowered his head to get out of the furniture without hitting the top. He then saw Y/n's eyes staring at him in awe.

— What it was? — He smiled, already out of the wardrobe and facing Y/n in the room.

— You got so tall. — She spoke simply.

— Did you just realize that now? — Aemond frowned, teasing her.

— Certainly not. — She laughed. — But it's strange to see you coming out of the wardrobe so big, when the last time you did that we were practically the same height.

Aemond smiled and guided her by the hand to the rug in front of the fireplace, feeling the skin on his hands tingle where his palm met hers. He sat on the floor and just like when they were younger, Y/n sat next to him, leaning her head on Aemond's shoulder gently, and the prince had to hold back a sigh.

He began to read aloud the Valyrian words from the book that he already knew by heart from so many times he had read it with her in mind. Aemond practically recited the stories, and barely wasted time looking at the pages, focusing too much on admiring the beauty of the princess lying on his shoulder.

— Se skori janderys geptot, zȳhon ābrazȳrys ozmijiō zirȳla tolvie tubis, se ziry jumban syt zȳhon amāzigon, gīda skori everyone ivestretan zȳhon ziry istan. — Aemond recited this part almost whispering, lost amid Y/n's beauty.

"And when Janderys was gone, her wife missed her every day. She waited patiently for her return, even when everyone told her it was impossible."

After that part, Y/n looked at Aemond and he didn't dare look in another direction, he just got lost in the beautiful eyes that he loved so much. Her sweet smell entering his nostrils intoxicated him and he felt his entire body shudder from one moment to the next with her proximity. The lack of control almost took over him once again, as had become common in the last few days, but this time he got up quickly, leaving the book lying on the carpet next to Y/n.

Aemond pulled away a little as he tried to regain his senses and contain the urge to kiss her again, just like he had done in the library. When they were children everything was so much simpler. Why now that he was a man couldn't he just sit on the rug and read a book with her without feeling like he was going to combust?

And just as thoughts were starting to flow again in Aemond's mind he felt the touch of Y/n's hand on his shoulder, the intoxicating smell once again overwhelming him.

— Aem? — She called him with that sweet voice that did things to his mind that he never thought possible. Aemond pressed firmly on the eye, keeping it firmly in place. — Are you okay?

— I am. — He turned back to Y/n, trying to maintain his composure, but as soon as he turned back, his gaze went straight to her red lips. Aemond quickly looked away, trying to look anywhere but at her lips. But then... his eyes fell onto the bedside table and the prince's eye pupil dilated instantly.

The tournament crown he had given her.

— You brought it with you.

— Of course, it's not every day that I'm crowned the queen of love and beauty by the greatest warrior in the kingdom.

His words awakened something within him that he hadn't yet realized. Such a feeling of possession and pride washing over him that Aemond could barely breathe, he didn't want to breathe, unless the air was the same as Y/n's.

The memory of the sounds she made against his neck in the library while she rubbed against his clothed thigh and that he tried not to think about tonight at all costs flooded his mind, the way she looked at him full of desire when he handed her that crown dominated him, the feeling of her skin against his during the dance that she had granted him hours before made him lose the control he swore to maintain.

And without being able to contain himself, Aemond pulled her firmly towards him by the hips and kissed her on the mouth hungrily. He wanted her so much it hurt. Y/n sighed and took her hands to his hair, tangling them in the silky strands as she pulled him even closer into the kiss.

He squeezed her hips between his fingers as he had been dreaming of doing for some time, and lightly squeezed her ass, pulling her closer and closer amidst the voracious kisses. Aemond kissed Y/n's neck while they both tried to catch their breath, he gave light bites and sucked in some spots while she sighed for him.

— Aemond.

She moaned his name sweetly and Aemond barely had control over himself when he raised his hands that were on her hips to the top of her back and holding tight to the collar of the fragile nightdress he tore it, making Y/n moan and rub herself against him as the pieces of fabric fell to the floor.

The Vision in front of him could easily have killed him. The naked body he had only seen in his wildest dreams was even more beautiful than he could have dreamed, it was perfect. Her breasts were as beautiful as he had imagined, the delicate curves of her waist and hips seemed designed by the gods themselves and between her beautiful thighs that she pressed firmly in search of relief, her intimacy that he was sure was already wet for him.

Aemond wanted to control himself, he would control himself. But he wanted to at least prove it first. And then he swore to himself that he would just taste her and pleasure her, just as he had the day before, and then he would leave. He would ask the gods for forgiveness for his indolence, and everything would be fine.

And with that thought he approached her again with his hungry gaze pulling her for another kiss while he brought his hands to her ass cheeks, squeezing firmly. Aemond guided Y/n to the bed and sat her down on the mattress with a mischievous smile on her face. She then looked up at him, looking confused with her lips swollen from kissing and the skin on her neck slightly red.

— Open your legs for me jorrāelagon. — He asked softly as he knelt in front of her, Y/n felt her whole body burn with shame, but obeyed, languidly opening her legs before Aemond's hungry eyes. My love

He said a filthy curse in Valyrian that made her blush even more if possible as he brought both hands to her smooth thighs, caressing and squeezing them. Aemond began caressing his left hand slowly while listening to Y/n's sighs and when he got to where he wanted he gently separated his lips from Y/n's intimacy and took two fingers to her sensitive pearl, caressing it.

Y/n sighed with pleasure at the new sensation of Aemond's fingers caressing her, and when he brought his fingers to her entrance and slowly placed them inside, making soft back and forth movements, she threw her head back while biting her lips.

Aemond enjoyed watching her reactions and smiled when he saw a slight frown of disappointment form when he moved her hand away, moving it back to his thigh. But before she could say anything, he firmly grabbed both of her thighs to keep them open. and dipped his head between her legs, licking her firmly from the entrance to the pearl.

Y/n moaned loudly at the sensation and gripped the sheets tightly between her fingers, and Aemond groaned as he finally felt her sweet taste on the tip of his tongue. He penetrated her tongue with his tongue and Y/n squirmed, begging for more.

— Aemond. — She said his name like a song, and he responded by giving her more and more pleasure, going deeper between her thighs with even more desire as he felt her squirm under his care. His mouth took every little part of her pussy for himself, while his nose hit her clit in a way that made her want to scream.

Y/n felt her entire body out of control, the feeling a thousand times stronger than the day before in the library. Spasms wracked her body and without control she fell back onto the sheets as she arched her back and moaned desperately. She took her hands to Aemond's hair, tangling her fingers between the strands and practically rubbing herself against his face without any shame.

— Aemond. — She practically screamed when she reached her peak, writhing against Aemond's mouth as he sucked her as if his life depended on it.

He felt her spongy walls contract more and more against his tongue and the delicious spasms brought with them Y/n's orgasm. Her taste numbed him, he wanted to feel that taste on his lips forever. The sound of her voice screaming his name at her peak almost drove him crazy, he wanted more.

Aemond moved up his lips, leaving kisses on her sensitive intimacy while he felt her shudder, and he went up her belly, kissing and sucking slowly, drawing sighs of pleasure from Y/n.

—It tastes so good. — He said as he continued to kiss more amidst the gasps of pleasure that Y/n emitted. — Sweet and perfect, like everything about you.

The kisses reached her breasts, and Aemond knew he should stop, that this was going too far and her virtue was at stake. But he told himself that if he could just touch those perfect breasts he would be satisfied. And then he took her left breast into his mouth and sucked it hard, driving her crazy as she had barely recovered from her recent orgasm. He squeezed her other breast with his hand, and gently pinched her nipple, giving her even more pleasure. Breasts so good, made for him to love, made for him to suck, with every sound made by Y/n, Aemond thought he was going to die

—So sensitive. So good for me.

Aemond rubbed his clothed body against her naked body looking for pleasure, his hardness pressing against her intimacy. He could feel her fluids moistening his pants and he moaned in pleasure at the sensation.

— Just for you Aemond. — She moaned sweetly at him. — Only yours.

A feeling of possessiveness came over him when he heard her say those words. From him. He wanted so badly to feel her bare skin against his bare skin, he needs to have that feeling at least once in his life. And he assured himself that he would go no further than that, that he would keep her maidenhood intact.

Aemond felt Y/n's hands pulling him by his clothes as she tried to kiss his neck just like he had done to her. And he ripped off his doublet and threw it haphazardly on the floor, then removing the lighter shirt he was wearing underneath and throwing it too, leaving his chest bare under Y/n's watchful gaze.

She pulled him back to her and kissed him passionately on the lips, and Aemond felt his skin burn and tingle as it came into contact with hers. Her warm breasts rubbing against his chest, Aemond took his hands to her back and pulled her further up onto the bed, where the two became even more entangled in kisses as they rubbed against each other in search of pleasure.

Y/n put her hand on the drawstring that held Aemond's pants in place and he held her hands, stopping her from pulling.

— Aemond. — She sighed his name with her eyes closed.

— I can't do that. — He spoke against her neck. — It would ruin you.

— I just want to feel you... feel your body against mine. — She sighed and scratched his back. — It's not fair that I'm naked and you're not.

Aemond took a deep breath and then inhaled. He couldn't do that, it would be going too far. The prince then got up from the bed with difficulty as he tried to move away from her delicious body.

— Aemond. — She begged there sprawled on the bed, naked, with her hair messy, her lips red from kissing and her silky legs parted as moisture ran down her thighs. He couldn't deny her. Just that more and he would go away to his own room, he was a gentleman. He wouldn't take Y/n's virtue without being married to her.

He untied his pants under her watchful gaze and then ripped them off, throwing them in the pile of clothes, leaving him completely naked, with just his eye patch. Aemond walked to the bed again and lay down on her body, now being able to feel the moisture that dripped from her directly onto his dick. By the Gods, how he would like to bury himself in her.

The two kissed eagerly and Y/n intertwined her legs against Aemond's slim waist in search of friction, making him moan against her lips as he rubbed himself against that hot moisture.

— Take it off. — She begged breathlessly between kisses, putting her hand to her eye patch.

— No. — Aemond denied, gently taking her hand away from the eye patch and stopping kissing her neck.

— Please Aemond. — She begged, looking at him while caressing his face. — I want to see you in full, I don't care about scars.

And Aemond knew that there was nothing in this world that she begged him naked under his body that he wouldn't do. If she asked him right now to ride Vhagar and burn an entire city, he would burn it without a second thought. And taking his hand to his face, he removed the eye patch, looking at her slightly nervous, fearing to see rejection in the eyes he loved so much.

Y/n admired him enchantedly. It was different from the last time she saw him, there was a shiny sapphire stone where Aemond's eye had once been and the wound was well healed. Y/n gently brought her hand towards his eye, stroking it softly the region.

— It hurts? — She asked in a soft voice.Aemond shook his head slightly as he turned and placed a kiss on Y/n's palm.

— Almost no more.

— Gevie. — She said with a look of pure adoration as she pulled him into another passionate kiss that made Aemond sigh.

Y/n kissed his way up his face until she reached his left eye where the sapphire was and she left a long and affectionate kiss, as if Aemond was the most important thing in her world.

— Vok issa jorrāelagon. — She said with her eyes full of pure adoration, making some tears well up in Aemond's eye, who, with a genuine smile, kissed her even more passionately than before. You are perfect my love.

— Ao issi vok, se olvie gevie mirre vēttan ondoso se jaes. — He spoke with his face glued to hers while rubbing their noses and lips against each other in an extremely intimate way. You are perfection, the most beautiful creature ever made by the gods.

Aemond's throbbing member rubbed against Y/n's wetness, leaving them both panting with desire amidst the intimate caresses. And she wanted him so badly in that moment, more than anything she had ever wanted in her life.

— Aem. — She whimpered. — I want you. I want you so badly.

— We can not do that. — He panted, pulling away slightly from her.

Y/n tangled her fingers in his silver hair, pulling him back into a voracious and messy kiss.

— Y/n... — Aemond sighed between the kiss, trying to pull away, but not having the strength to do so, he wanted so much, but knew he shouldn't.

— I was made to be yours. — She grunted, holding him by the hair and looking at him in a way that bordered on despair. — Only yours. Not from him.

Him. Aemond knew who she was talking about, and for a moment in that haze of lust he had forgotten about that bastard who wanted to steal what was his.

— Aemond, I'd rather die, I'd rather be ruined, I'd rather anything than let him lay his hands on me. I feel sick at the thought of him putting his hands on my body. I don't want him. I want you. With everything in me, I want you. She looked directly into his eyes as she spoke, still holding him by his silky silver hair.

— I am begging you Aemond Targaryen. — She sighed beneath him, her eyes shining with desire. — Ruin me.

Aemond can't resist any longer, not with her begging like that. And with a groan he looked into her eyes and began to penetrate her soft, warm intimacy with his hard bulge. And at that moment he came to the conclusion that he had never felt anything as good as that in his entire life.

Y/n dug her nails into Aemond's back as she felt him slowly enter her insides.

— Aemond. — She sighed amidst the pleasure and slight pain and he immediately stood still, looking at her with slightly frightened eyes.

— Did I hurt you?

— No. — Y/n grabbed his shoulders pulling him closer to her. —Don't stop, I'm fine.

Aemond continued pushing inside her slowly, fearing to hurt her in any way, and little by little he sheathed himself completely inside Y/n, who was squeezing his shoulders and scratching him lightly. Aemond lay still inside her, panting as he felt her hot walls pressing and pulling him closer and closer, and trying to contain himself he buried his head in the curve between Y/n's neck and shoulder.

— You can move. — She sighed.

—Are you sure? — Aemond asked, looking into her eyes again while trying to contain himself.

Y/n confirmed with her head, putting her hands through Aemond's already messy hair and pulling him into a wet, slow kiss that got messier as he started to move inside her.

Aemond pushed himself lightly inside her and felt her gasp into the kiss and pull his hair. He then started to move harder and faster and the feeling of y/n's intimacy contracting against him was killing him.

— So good. — He moaned to her amidst the kisses and thrusts that became increasingly stronger as he lost himself in Y/n's moans.

— More. — She begged amidst moans. — Please Aemond, more.

Aemond bit her neck hard and sucked it uncontrollably when he heard her cry out for him like that. He then fucked her hard and loudly while they both panted amid the kisses and love bites, the prince seemed obsessed with her neck and was sucking it in an almost animalistic way at that point.

— Mine. — He panted.

He then took his right hand to her breast and desperately bit and kissed it down her lap until he reached the other breast, putting it in his mouth and sucking it as if he were going to devour it. Y/n threw her head back in pleasure at feeling so many sensations at the same time, and when he removed his hand from her breast and placed it between her legs, caressing her furiously, Y/n felt like she had lost all control over her own body.

— Yours, only yours Aemond. Always only yours.

The pleasure that hit her was even stronger than before, the feeling of Aemond inside her made her want to cry with joy. His naked body against hers, his mouth kissing her everywhere and she came against his cock pressing and milking it while she moaned Aemond's name wildly, crossed both legs against his naked ass and scratched his back pulling him closer and closer.

Aemond, feeling her coming and pressing against him, could no longer resist and without thinking about anything, without looking at tomorrow or the possible consequences, he spilled his seed deep inside Y/n while moaning breathlessly looking at her contorted face of pleasure.

— I love you. — He declared in the midst of pleasure and he could see her eyes, lost in pleasure, filling with tears as she brought her hand to his face and caressed it.

— I love you too.

And completely exhausted after the climax, they both fell into unconsciousness, still naked and hugging each other with satisfied smiles on their faces that lasted until the next morning, when Aemond did not appear to do his morning chores and they were both awakened by the horrified scream of the queen at the enter his niece’s room. Followed by Aegon who, upon seeing the scene, gave a malicious smile towards Aemond.

— Well it looks like we're not going to have a wedding anymore, at least not one with little Jace, isn't that brother?

---------------------------¤¤-----------------------

Tag list: @anukulee

[that-butch-archivist]

the documentary "the aggressives" about poc butches is on streaming and can be bought idk if that's useful or anything but i just watched it and thought it fit in here

It's totally useful, thanks for reaching out!! I've not had time to watch this one myself yet but it's high on the list for ... whenever I get a moment. I've heard really good things and all, and--oh shit it's free on Tubi ... HMMM. Okay. Well. I know what I have to see later lol. xD

But yes, anon is right--for those interested in seeing more butches of color, or just butches in general, please take a look at "The Aggressives"!

"The Aggressives" on Wikipedia. "The Aggressives" (free to watch!) on Tubi.

[hotvintagepoll]

Vintage movie recommendations for getting through these dark times? 🙏 Looking specifically for anything joyous, especially if it's queer/progressive for its time. Thanks!!

ooh ok! that's a big ask, because queer/progressive doesn't always show in the ways we expect in older movies. still, joyous i can do, and as poly as I can I'll try for:

the talk of the town (you knew i would say this). jean arthur, cary grant, ronald colman are all tangled up in all sorts of ways, legally but also including in each other's pajamas. it's free on youtube and tubi last time i checked!

singin' in the rain (you also knew i would say this). cosmo brown, weird little third wheeling queerplatonic ideal that you are. gene kelly, debbie reynolds, and donald o'connor have fire chemistry and all three of their characters love the other ones so truly and with such joy they break all of hollywood with the power of song. (it is gorgeous and sublime that the story is built so only these three ever actually engage with the musical format—the format that is, in universe, the way of the future—structurally equating music and musicals with love. no one else gets a song or a villain number or a little ditty that's not a literal musical number. only these three break the story and heal it at the same time.)

the adventures of robin hood—i swear to god will scarlett is good for nothing else besides being robin's hot little friend. will alone makes this movie queer for me. also, watching a movie about a socialist uprising against a cruel and unjust government sure feels apt! for no particular reason! (this one is also on tubi.)

the philadelphia story—jimmy katharine and cary are absolutely a threesome in this movie and it's a crime they didn't just make more of this movie, again and again, forever. is there a plot? they're all by a swimming pool, it's hot, there's champagne. what else do you need for a film. oh yeah there's some discussion of autonomy and women's rights and wealth and class and marriage, some of which i disagree with, but i think mostly it's katharine hepburn in an evening gown and jimmy stewart in a white terry cloth robe and cary grant standing there not minding in the least. (content warning: there is one instance of a racial slur [not directed at anyone but still there], and one shove. also on tubi.)

the lady vanishes—i love this movie, so much, couldn't tell you why (i can: michael redgrave is here being hot). there are two bit characters who read as queer coded (they are also obsessed with cricket and are mocked for being english by the narrative, which is nice), and there's a weird plucky joy in michael redgrave's performance that feels like a departure from your usual Solid Very Serious Male Heroic Main Character. this movie does trend mildly xenophobic in a very England-in-the-30s type of way—there are shady "foreign" characters and other batshit stereotypes—but nothing I think that would cause direct offense. (let me know if I'm wrong on this though and I'll tag accordingly). this one is free anywhere and can be watched on youtube.

the wizard of oz—i know you've probably seen this before but it's worth seeing again. yes you're allowed to cry at the end i always do

[dragon-reblogs-and-rambles]

update turns out i accidentally blasted it to the TV while my dad was watching and he just immediately turned it back and now im trying to explain to my dad what the fuck tokusatsu is

at least i didn't blast the neighbors uhhh good(ish) ending?

I was just watching super sentai while drawing some stuff and went to go in picture in picture mode and noticed it said it was broadcasting it via bluetooth to a smart tv but its not playing on our TV????? did i just accidentally blast one of my neighbors with fucking super sentai or is my computer just trying to give me a scare

[cc1010fox]

Fox, after hearing a vod clearing his throat at his office door: Whatever you need, I haven't had time since I started this job...You'll have better luck with Commander Thire or Commander Thorn. Trooper: Uh...Commander Fox...Sir? Fox, finally looking up from his work to see a trooper holding a tubie: Did you find a lost tubie? Trooper: Uh...No... Fox: ...Oh. You can take him to the Temple. They have a-- Trooper: No, it's nothing like that, sir. I just...wanted him to meet you. Fox: ...Meet...me? Trooper, gently sitting the baby on the desk, supporting him with one hand: Yes, sir...He's met his extended family on his mother's side, his grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins...You know...I think he should meet the people that I consider family. I know we're not close, but I look up to you. I think that's as close as I can offer to a grandparent for him. Fox, offering his hand to the tubie for a handshake after a long pause: Marshal Commander Fox, honorary cadet. Trooper, smiling as his son curiously grabs two of Fox's fingers: His name is Siolo. His mother says it means poet. Fox, smiling warmly: Honorary Cadet Siolo. That's a strong name, as strong as your handshake. There is nothing more powerful than the spoken word on Coruscant after all...I guess...I'm your ba'buir.

[saphire-dance]

Welcome to the Transformers Fandom

Did you just see Transformers One? It was good, wasn't it? Do you want to be fannish about it? This post is for you.

First thing to know is we use the tag maccadam. This practice dates back to when the live action movies would flood the Transformers tag with actor pics. Maccadam is where you will find the robots. It is a reference to Maccadam's Old Oil House. A bar found in some continuities. You can still use the Transformers tag

Speaking of references. Let me introduce you to your new best friend: TFWiki. The Transformers Wiki is the place to go if you want to know anything about Transformers. Shows, Movies, Comics, Books, Toys. It's all there. We're spoiled with how good this wiki is. Thanks, guys.

Now you don't have to watch more Transfomers to be a fan. If you loved the movie you're already a fan. You don't have to ever watch another thing and you are still a fan and welcome here. But I'm betting you want to see more Transfomers. Here are some other continuities and where to find them. This is not an extensive list. This is a starter pack.

The Transformers (1984) AKA Generation 1 AKA G1. The original that started it all. Dubious 80s animation and some of the greatest voice actors of all time. Available on Tubi for free.

Beast Wars AKA TFBW. If G1 started everything Beast Wars is what kept it from dying out. Absolutely bleeding edge computer animation in the 90s. It's, uh, very dated, but the story and voice acting still hold up and I recommend giving it a chance. Available on Tubi for free.

Transformers Animated AKA TFA (yes we fought the Star Wars folks over that tag) Debuted the same year as the first Live Action Movie. It is very anime influenced and shows a very different side to our favorite characters. One of the more popular shows in the fandom. Available on Tubi for free. Also on Pluto

Transformers Prime AKA TFP AKA Prime. Another very popular show with the fandom. Part of the Aligned continuity which featured books, games, and other shows. This is probably closest to Transformers One in characterization and I would recommend making this your next watch if you can. The First season is on Netflix with the rest available on Tubi. Yeah I don't know what is up with that.

Rescue Bots AKA TFRB This is a Show for Preschoolers, but don't let that scare you away. It is one of the best Transformers shows. Somehow also part of the Aligned continuity. Season one is on Netflix and it is also available on Pluto

Transformers Cyberverse AKA Cyberverse AKA TFCV. A fun Bumblebee focused show. Very few humans. Season 1 is on Hasbro's YouTube channel, Season 3 (????) is on Netflix, Also on Pluto.

Transformers EarthSpark AKA TFES. The most recent show. Lots of new characters and a new side to Megatron that I love. On Paramount+ and YouTube premium.

Live Action Movies. There are 7 live action movies the first 5 are directed by Micheal Bay and are collectively known as the Bayverse The other two movies Bumblebee and Rise of the Beasts, are also sometimes lumped in with Bayverse. It is debated if they are reboots or prequels. Personally Bumblebee is my favorite. They are all available on Paramount+

Comics. Comics have been part of Transformers from the very beginning. First with Marvel and later with other publishers. Marvel Dreamwave and IDW are the best known publishers. IDW is still very popular in fandom. Currently comics are being published by Skybound. Unfortunately finding out of print comics can be very difficult/expensive and I recommend checking TFWIKI for summaries if you can't find them.

[the-starry-seas]

I was thinking about how exactly the Royal Squad came to join the family, because adopting five clone cadets isn't exactly an impulse decision, and like

Fox interrupting Breha's schedule and approaching her as his queen, not his wife, and asking her for several million credits. And she knows that something is up because he's calling her Your Majesty and using corporate-speak and swearing to find some way to repay her. And neither of them are idiots, she knows there's nothing he can do to bring back that kind of cash no matter what job he gets.

So Breha, obviously, has questions. Maybe a thought or two in the back of her mind that Fox might not know what a spam email is. Fox is generally very calm and even-tempered so she wants to know what's going on and why he needs so much money.

Fox says that Kamino is going to sell off everything they can to recoup losses from the latest batches of clones that they're no longer being paid for. He says most of them will be sold to slavers. He says the ones that can't be sold will be killed. He says none of them are more than five years old. He says there's ten thousand of them and he knows it will be expensive, but he could never live with himself if he didn't find a way to save at least some of them.

Breha is weeping long before he's finished. She's seen his scars, she's heard him wailing with terror from nightmares, she's felt him flinch when she touches him without warning. She loves him, but she would do anything to change his past. She will do anything to spare his little brothers from the life that can never stop haunting him. She thinks of darling Leia, two years old and safely at home with Bail doting on her every move, and is sick at the thought of any baby being treated in the way Fox just described.

She gives Fox carte blanche to bring home every last child. He falls to his knees and kisses her hands, thanking her in jumbled words and eyes shining with tears. She has no regrets for the financial havoc she's just caused herself and will never let him repay her.

Fox brings home ten thousand and five children. He snarls at anyone who comes near the youngest, holding the runt of the litter his every waking moment, his hands always gentle but his eyes glaring a lethal warning. The legion of social workers deployed to help find homes for the children, well, they unanimously decide that that's someone else's problem.

(There's a bright spot in all this hustle and drama. As it turns out, selling children into the Core worlds... it's just so incredibly unbelievably illegal. Breha gets back every credit that Fox spent, and a reward for alerting the police to what the Kaminoans are doing. Clones have human rights on Alderaan, after all.)

Eventually, after several months of several thousand people working twelve-hour days, all ten thousand clone cadets have been placed with loving families all across the planet. There's still welfare checks and such to be done, but for now, everyone is safe, happy, and in no more danger from the Kaminoans.

This leaves five.

Fox finally goes home to the palace, after being one of those people working twelve-hour shifts, and says, "I adopted some. I didn't mean to."

Breha says, "I heard you cold-cocked someone for suggesting an adopted family for them on their third day here."

Fox has to say he did, yes, and he didn't mean to do that either, and he already apologised several times.

Breha smiles and says that Bail's been excited to meet them for weeks now, and won't Fox come to dinner?

Fox does come to dinner, and brings his tubies, far too nervous at the idea of leaving them with anyone else, even Leia's nannies. It doesn't surprise him when Breha is the first to bring it up.

"Bail and I talked about it, and we understand if you want to be their only legal parent. We know there's complexities around their adoption. Whatever support you want from us, you'll have it."

Fox doesn't expect his eyes to blur with tears, or for them to feel like tears of joy.

"Leia's my daughter," he whispers, "and these are your sons."

"Helio is a family name on my side, you know," Bail mentions. He smiles at the tubie in Fox's lap, who giggles and waves back with his little hand clenched around a green bean. Then Bail's gaze meets Fox's, and the fatherly love already in his eyes... it takes Fox's breath away.

"My parents once said that they planned to name me Vidal if I was a boy," Breha adds, and takes a sip from her glass. "Though I suppose some of them might have names already?"

Fox shakes his head. There were so many other things to be busy with that he's just been calling them by the last two digits of their CT numbers.

"I wasn't sure what to call them," he admits, "but I was sure you would love them."

They beam at that, and Fox manages to smile back, despite how exhausted he is from the past few months. There's still so much waiting in the future, but for tonight, he can take the time to breathe.

He falls asleep quickly that night, with his head in Breha's lap and her hand in his hair, Kit already fast asleep and curled into his side, listening to Bail read a bedtime story to all six of their tubies.

[juricore]

GIRL YAOI COULD HAVE SAVED HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i am a kaoru girl because im in my twenties and ive learned and grown and every day i watch another episode of oniisama e i thank god that i wasnt watching this when i was 15 but i like get it. with rei i get it. like i understand what rei asaka did to you guys. head in my fucking hands she LIKES playing basketball she LIKES hanging out with kaoru so much that they have so little screen time together. like if rei spends more time with someone who actually makes her feel like a person then WHO is gonna be the manifestation of unhealthy and sick devotion as love????????

[palfriendpatine66]

Your Pal’s Hayden Review: Higher Ground

What? Yes. I’m going to take a second away from my 24/7 Ewan obsession to throw a little love Hayden’s way and talk about Higher Ground. I had heard a lot about the series before I decided to check out the series and I’m so glad I did. It can be really difficult to track down but right now it’s streaming for free for a limited time on the CW website (and app) as well as tubi.

TLDR: I highly recommend a watch for a great Hayden performance in an angst ridden, emotional teen drama about kids working through their trauma in a therapeutic wilderness school. Many many content warnings for difficult topics and content warnings after my general review below the cut.

This was seriously the role Hayden was born to play. He plays a broken, sulky teen who lashes out in flashes of anger before he breaks down and cries AKA he is modern AU Anakin. It’s no wonder he was cast as Anakin after his work on this. His performance is emotional and vulnerable and shattered my heart multiple times.

The show is never quite able to make the viewer forget that they’re watching a teen drama with a cast of actual teens playing the teenage characters filmed in the year 2000, but I was able to forgive it for it’s occasionally overacted and/or not quite realistic dialogue and key moments accompanied by in your face soundtrack choices to pump up the drama and I think you will too. A very diverse collection of issues that impact real teens but are rarely talked about were depicted surprisingly realistically and sensitively. I was really impressed that the show consistently emphasized - over and over again - that the traumas the kids went through that were behind the problematic behaviors that landed them in their one stop shop rehab/intensive therapy/social and life skills group/high school program were not their fault, but only they could be responsible for how they coped and chose to go forward with the rest of their lives. The councilors on the show had healthy, caring, supportive relationships with the kids in their program, and the advice they gave was (generally) actually helpful and real life strategies. What I liked the most about this show was that it was realistic in there is no magic cure or happily ever after, but there is hope and there is healing and there are opportunities for a positive future even when everything is awful.

Content warnings below - feel free to dm if you want more details if you’re considering a watch. Also if you have watched please let me know if I missed any. For the most part these weren’t graphic depictions (they were rated TVPG in 2000) but the emotional impacts and aftermath are focused on in detail and can be very heavy.

- depictions of depression, anxiety, and panic attacks with flashbacks - drug addiction - drug use - overdose death - alcoholism - teen runaway - rape - sexual abuse of a minor - sexual abuse of a minor by a parent - sexual abuse of a minor by a step parent - emotional abuse - gaslighting - abuse allegations being dismissed, not believed - eating disorders - discussions of self harm - graphic depiction of cutting - scenes and discussions of suicide and death - death of a parent - gang involvement - domestic violence - physical abuse - infertility - drowning death - teen prostitution -

[whoiwanttoday]

The Emmys were last night and thus I am posting Brie Larson who was there. I was confused for a moment before I remembered that yes, she did have a TV show she was on, I just had forgotten it existed. It made me think of this old thought exercise I heard a comedian talk about 20 years ago. It was basically would you be willing to go be Bill Gates' private clown for 5 million dollars a year. You wouldn't share what you did with others, it would just be to make him laugh but you'd be very well compensated. People would bandy it about but most said no because there is no reason to create if others don't see it and no one really wants to be a billionaire's private clown. Anyway, I think that's essentially what Apple TV is, it's just for Tim Cooke I guess. I know someone will mention Ted Lasso, which I like but in general Apple TV is a black hole of praised but unseen projects. It's a shame but I don't think the natural state of things is so many pay services, most just have to fail. I would have watched a Brie Larson TV show with ads on Tubi but not for the hassle of having to sign up and then remember to cancel a service. I actually only have one service I pay for monthly. It's not a matter of cost but of waste. Anyway, she looked great and I guess her show must have been ok at least. Good for her. Today I want to fuck Brie Larson.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Scale Soother

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Cregan Stark x Reader

Summary: "Fine," the king quips, "tell me, then, how it is you managed to tame this dragon?" He looks off to the side and watches as the creature stares at him, as if unwilling to let him out of his sight. "The secret is, your grace," I shake my head, "I did not."

Word Count: 10k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, VERY alternate universe, very self-indulgent fic, made up lore, internet translated high valyrian/Astapori Valyrian, ye old misogyny, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: if you have any quarrels with my made up lore or my high/astapori valyrian, i'll tell you right now, youre right im wrong, so just roll with it ok. also i made a song for this fic cos im a music student and i well wanted to (very self-indulgent as i said) and YES my pronunciation in it is inconsistent and i missed some syllables but its fine shhhhhh roll w it. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui

dārilaros se zaldrīzes

(princess and dragon)

konīr iksin iā zaldrīzes bona glaestan isse se guēsin (there was a dragon that lived in the forest) konīr iksin iā dārilaros bona vāettan iā gevie vāedar (there was a princess that sung a beautiful song) se lanta sia mēre isse Perzys Ānogār (and two were one in fire and blood) se mēre tubis kessi udrāzma se tegun (and one day they will rule the land)

I lick my lips as I blur the dark line on my paper. I look up and move to throw some mutton to the fox I was drawing, but perk up from my spot when I see that I would not be able to feed any beast, as I was now by myself.

Immediately, my instinct is to turn over my shoulder. I look behind me and roll my eyes at the man walking over to me, "sȳz syt doru gine." Good for nothing rat.

The tan skinned man shakes his head, making his longish, dark hair brush against his angular jaw, "ao ōdrio nyke." You wound me.

"Why are you even here?" I eye him, "you know nature despises you."

He sits down next to me on the ground and shrugs, "you know, just because the name of your house means 'red beast', doesn't mean you have to make it a point to draw foxes every single day," he eyes me and says the name of my house rather mockingly, "Milidyni."

I throw my head back and scoff, "this again?" I raise a brow at him, "you do know you are the worst perpetrator of living up to your name, Gael Valzȳrys," I stand and brush off my skirt, "and besides, I am helping my father as a beast scholar to catalog the creatures of the woods. You do nothing of the sort."

Gael watches me and I give him a look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he frowns as his thick dark brows move close together.

I knit my own brows at his expression and look up at him as he stands and towers over me, "are you seriously pretending you don't 'wife up'--" I look away and begin to walk off, "or at least attempt to-- every woman you set your eyes upon--" I turn back to him and give him a look, wording sardonically, "Husband?"

Gael scoffs, "it's hardly my fault women are willing to give up their maidenhoods to me. It's not like I make myself look as though I would actually be their valzȳrys," husband.

I cringe as I begin to navigate through the forest on the path back home, "no you are too correct," I clutch my notebook and my skirt in hand, "belonging to house Valzȳrys was too generous a name of the gods to bestow upon you," I look over my shoulder and raise a hand, "you should have belonged to house Live." Whore.

"Asha," Gael exclaims and makes a face, "how original."

Gael and I walk through the forest, bickering over names as we did. I smack him in the shoulder for insulting the name Kotova.

"Kotova is a beautiful name!" I point a finger at him.

He looks at me as though he is actually pained, and I do hope he is, as he should. He rubs his arm, "ao brōstan zirȳla se ēlī run bona istan ezīmagon aōha bartos!" You named her the first thing that went into your head!

"Sīr?" I quip, "ao ydragho hae ao ȳdra daor qogralbar se ēlī run ao ūndegon."

So? You speak like you don't fuck the first thing you see.

Gael laughs and moves close, "I have yet to fuck you, my s--"

He does not get to finish as suddenly there is a loud shriek from overhead, followed by the sound of long strides of large wings.

Gael flinches as we both look skyward. I grin where he exclaims out to the Harpy for deliverance. I turn to Gael as he grabs onto my arm. I laugh at him, "serves you right, cretin."

"Fucking cock block."

The assembly hall smelled like oranges, for the king had been haughtily eating them in the middle of his meeting. He looked like he was paying more attention to peeling the skin of his citrus rather than the droning report of Otto Hightower. But then again, that would not have been too out of the ordinary; he never liked him. It's a wonder he's still on the council.

Daemon had his feet up as sucked on an orange bud, unsure if he appreciated the fact it was wholly sweet with no hint of tanginess. He let out a soft belch and turned to his side, "cupbearer."

Rhaenyra straightens and turns to his uncle.

"Mirri averilla, riñītsos," says the king. Some wine, little girl.

Daemon raises his cup to his niece as she walks over with an ewer of wine. He pulls his legs off the table and assesses his cupbearer's dress, the one he gifted her for her recent nameday just a few night ago.

"Se ēnka iksis sȳz va ao," the king utters in their shared tongue, the color is good on you.

Rhaenyra smiles at him, "kirimvose, ñuha dārys."

Thank you, my king.

Daemon smiles as Rhaenyra pulls away after pouring him some wine. His smile flattens when his sight catches the cunt-Lord turning from the other Targaryen to him with pursed lips.

"I don't remember asking you to stop your report, Hightower," he raises his brows and shakes his head expectantly.

Otto shifts from where he stood, "no, your majesty."

Daemon leans on his chair at the head of the table, downing a large gulp of wine. It's bitter and sour, just as he hoped, and it complimented his oranges exquisitely.

"And then there is a matter of a dragon, your grace," Otto says rather gravely, out of character even for his usually tedious demeanor.

The rest of the council members turn to him while Daemon looks out the window and thinks, 'ah, yes, I would so adore to ride off with Caraxes at this time'.

"Many of our trade partners from Essos have given consistent and wearisome accounts about the dragon in the area nicknamed Forest Fire."

"Huh," the king chuckles, turning back to Otto. He finally has Daemon's attention.

"How quaint."

"Yes," Otto speaks flatly, "the quaint abomination has burned down forests for sport and left a great many casualties in its stead, hindering trade and damaging goods, our trade goods"

Daemon puts his cup down and shrugs slightly, "so? There is a lose dragon in Essos. My business with the savages that live there are as far and few as my business with the dragon toying with them. We do not rely on Essos. Cease trade if you must."

Otto rolls his shoulders back and clutches his hands in front of him. He clenches his jaw and allows for the faintest of grins to pull on his lips. Daemon was actually unsure if it was a grin or if he was in pain.

"That would have been my own thoughts as solution, my king, had that dragon not had a rider."

Daemon blinks.

Otto relaxes his shoulders.

Rhaenyra from the side looks between her best friend's father and her uncle with a lowered jaw.

A chorus of utterances fall from the lips of the Lords at the table, things along the line of 'a rider?,' 'impossible,' and general grumbles of disbelief.

Daemon reaches his hand out to the marble sphere before him and tilts his head at Otto. He swirls his tongue on the roof of his mouth, savoring the remnants of snack, then tilts his head to the lord, "are you implying that someone from my family has adopted one too many mounts in their keep and has made a game of toying with some low lives in the east?"

"I am saying," Otto shifts on his leg, "that there is a dragon out there whose mount is not from your family."

Daemon stills.

Rhaenyra's mouth falls wider.

The lords lose their shit.

And for a moment, there is a continous streak of worried mumbles.

Lord Velaryon from across the table, in fact, adopted a deep line between his brows upon hearing this.

But then suddenly, the king laughs and silences everyone.

Daemon laughs so hard that he clutches his stomach as his amusement echoes around the room.

Rhaenyra is extremely agitated by the response of her uncle and how the council reacts to him.

Daemon lets out a sigh once he's satisfied himself and slumps on his chair, "my," he lets out a deep breath, "I do say I believe a thanks is in order, chum," he wipes a tear, "That is, in all honestly, the funniest you have ever been the entire time you've been at court," he straightens up, "or, methinks, your entire life," he chuckles.

Otto Hightower does not share the sentiment. He does not find himself particularly fond of being called chum by the king either. "I assure you, your grace," he shakes his head, "I do not jest."

Daemon's smirk does not falter.

"You would agree with me when I say I do not know how," the lord adds.

Otto sees no change or belief in the king's expression so, he instead turns to the king's hand, Lord Strong, "this issue has come to my attention less than week prior, and since then, I have been securing information about the so-called Forest Fire so that I could raise the matter to the king."

Lord Hand meant speak, but the King beats him to it, "and why did you not notify me of this the said week prior?"

Otto turns to the king.

Daemon is now hard and unamused. He leans on his elbows and raises his brows accusingly at him.

Otto narrows his eyes, "I did not wish to add to the flame of a mummer's farce, my king."

"Then humor me, Hightower," he raises his brows, "in detail," he leans on the table, "what do you know of this Forest Fire?"

"Kiba," I huffed as I entered my home through the back door, "I spied four horses come down the road on my way here. Did you-"

I halt in both my steps and my words when I am face to face with a tall man in a deep green coat. The scent of his oils and perfume are poke into my nostrils as though it was done with a stick.

I walk back and let out a breath, "skoros se qogralbar?" What the fuck?

"Five horses," someone mutters. I hear a laugh and turn to my side, "my, I see the lady has come just in time."

I move back at the sight of the devious looking man with alabaster hair and purple eyes. I clutch my skirt and turn away from him, finding my father holding cups and a pitcher, same with our servant.

Immediately, I rush over to the man and mutter in a low voice, "kiba, issi ao isse pelrar?" Father, are you in trouble?

My father hands me a cup and cocks his head to the side, quickly muttering, "daor, ñuha prūmia, issa ao qilōni iksis isse pelrar." No, my heart, it is you who is in trouble.

My eyes dart to the silver haired man muttering something to a silver haired girl. My father pours into the cup in my hand, then the one in his.

"King Daemon," my father says and offers the drink to him.

I wordlessly follow suit and offer the cup to the person beside King Daemon.

"Thank you," she says to me.

The man beside her raises a brow, "will you not greet the princess?"

I turn to the king then the princess, offering a curtsy, "princess..."

"Rhaenyra," he adds.

I turn to him and repeat, "Rhaenyra."

The king tilts his head. The high collar of his leathery black tunic was adorned with an eccentric ruby necklace and the fingers that were gripping the bronze cups we only used when we had guests were all clad with golden rings, "do you honestly expect me to believe you don't know who she is, who we are-- who I am?"

"Kepus," mutters Rhaenyra. Her dainty hand comes to the arm of her uncle. Her violet eyes and rosy cheeks move to his duller face in comparison. Her features are complimented by the deep velvet red of her dress and the intricate braids of her light hair.

I smooth out my orange corset and red skirt, "you are King Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen," I smile softly.

I can practically feel my father tense in anticipation of my next words.

"You are all guests to our humble abode."

Father lets out a soft breath.

"I am here for your Forest Fire," the king replies quickly.

I pull my head back and frown, "forest fire?"

King Daemon narrows his eyes and looks past me.

"We have reports-"

I turn and find the odorous man was speaking.

"-that a dragon has been going about burning through trees and people, thus the nickname, Forest Fire."

I suck in a breath and feel my breathing tighten at the insulting words of the man, "I assure you, ser," I knit my brows and frown, "I have no knowledge of this monster which you speak."

The tall man looks down upon me and tilts his head, "no?"

I hear my father call out my name lowly. I ignore his cautious tone, for he knows my words are true.

"Then tell me, Lady Milidyni," the man steps forward, "would you deny it still if I tell you your father has told all of us," he raises a hand, "that you came from the riverbank after riding upon the back of your dragon."

"I do not deny riding a dragon," I retort quickly, "but I say to you, whatever talk of forest fires you know of was not the doing of my mount."

"Pār emilā nyke pāsagon bona aōha zaldrīzes iksis rāpa se sȳz?"

I turn over my shoulder and find the raised brows of the king. He taps his finger on his cup and looks at me expectantly.

The princess watches me as I stare. She starts, "my uncle said, 'y--"

"Then you will have me believe that your dragon is soft and kind," I repeat the words perfectly. The silver haired princess presses her lips together.

"Nyke ȳdra daor gimigho skoros sȳz zaldrize emā isse Vesteros lo ao odabagho konir sagon skoros nyke nūmāzma," I retort.

I don't know what kind of dragons you have in Westeros if you think that is what I mean.

The king laughs through his nostrils then takes a sip of his wine. He pulls the cup away from his mouth and looks at it before saying, "you are amusing, little girl."

"I am not a little girl," I reply simply.

I hear my father call out my name. I turn over to him as he give me a look, "he is a king."

"Well, he's not our king."

"Beza tala kessa sagon se murgho yno," he sighs. This girl will be the death of me.

"Daor vasīr." Not yet, says the king, making me turn to him with a scowl. He hands my father his cup as he steps forward, "you will take us to your dragon at once."

I look up at him as he stands far too close to me for my liking. I raise my hand up to his chest and step back, "all of you?" I turn to the man in the green coat, the two armoured guards, the princess, then back to him, "my dragon is not used to seeing so many people."

He tilts his head and narrows his eyes, "ah, are you afraid he might hurt us?"

He turns to my hand when my palm connects with his sternum. I slightly push him back to prevent him from drawing any nearer, "I am afraid you might do something to taunt her."

"You think so-" he grabs my wrist, "-lowly of a king."

"No," I tilt my head up, "I assume what I know of your nature, Valyrian conqueror."

He seems to be pleased by that name. His lips curve into a lopsided smile, "then do not make me waste my time any further by stalling."

We stare at each other for a moment then I pull my hand away from him.

I turn about and gather my skirt, "lēda nyke." With me.

"Ñuhe kepe hobrenke usōvegon syt otāpagon bona ao lī daor shifang Valyrio Eglie," princess Rhaenyra offers as she walks up next to me.

I must apologize for thinking that you would not understand High Valyrian.

I turn to her as we walk over some branches on the ground.

"Gaomagon daor qubemagon aōla, dārilaros," the king mutters behind us, "ziry ȳdrā iā nādrēsy lūs hen īlva ēngos."

Do not lower yourself, princess. She speaks a bastard kind of our tongue.

"Kepus," she mutters, looking over to the king.

The king turns to me as I do the same. He raises his brows at me as he marches over a large rock, "iksin nyke pirta?" Am I wrong?

I ignore him and turn to the princess, "your uncle is correct. Astapori Valyrian is a branch of Bastard Valyrian languages. It has remnants of Old Ghiscari, which may be why you won't understand some of my words. I however I can understand you perfectly."

The man called Otto Hightower, as I was told, swats a bug flying over to him.

I turn to him and the two Kingsguard tailing after him just as the princess excitedly says, "that is so fascinating. I suppose that must be why your mount listens to you."

I chuckle at the words of the girl and push back a branch in our way, "my dragon does not merely listen to me because I speak Valyrian."

"Pray tell," the king steps between us, "do explain how why Forest Fire listens to a lowly wench like you."

I stop in my tracks and furrow my brows. He purses his lips and gives me a look.

"I wonder if you think I am inclined to give a courteous response to your crude words, Daemon Targaryen."

The corner of his lips twitch into a smirk, "King Daemon Targaryen."

"King," I repeat dryly. I turn away and walk off, releasing the branch, hoping it hits the man on his way.

Judging by his grunt, it does. I smile to myself.

"Insolent bitch, I ought to--" the clamors of the king are silenced by the shriek that causes a flock of birds to fly away.

I hasten my movements and secure my skirt in my hand, "I do suggest you calm yourself, king."

He does not respond as we all continue to the tread deeper into the thick, green forest. By the time I spot the flowing river, I turn to the king and mutter, "we're here."

I take the same route I always do, feeling the man follow closely behind me. He catches my arm when my shoe slips from a damp patch of soil and eyes me darkly as I turn to thank him out of instinct. I still thank him, but do so rather reluctantly.

"Do not do anything that will startle your ride," he mutters, releasing me.

"She is not extremely jittery like you, your grace."

Before he can respond, I am walking off.

"Iksan kesīr, Kotova," I call out as the familiar scent of dragon hits my nose, "eman sindita ragero lēda nyke."

I am here, Kotova. I have brought friends with me.

I turn to Daemon as he looks around. I cannot help but chuckle at the solemn look upon his face as he anticipates the dragon.

"She will not eat you," I hold back a smile, "I swear it."

"I am no fool," Daemon turns to me, "she does not have to eat me to kill me."

There is then a crescendo of crackling screeches. From the far off side, comes out then a largish, white winged beast, head cocking left and right as she slowly crawls out toward us. She was, in truth, only so much bigger than a carriage but her wings made her look larger than she really was.

I smile as I walk over to her while she lifts her head up and roars with jaws wide open.

"Asha," I exclaim and raise a hand to her.

The dragonling stops her cries and lowers her head a fraction, turning to me. She bleats gutturally and stretches out her wings, beating them rapidly, much like how she usually greets me. She then rolls her long neck over and under then settles down and inches near me.

She huffs and rests her wings beside her. Her snout comes me as reach out to her.

Daemon watches the pearly white creature submit to her rider. He sees the shine of her blistering white scales and the shape of her head. There was something about the creature that made him think she did not look right, something about her snout and the shape of her body. He was unsure if it had to do the ghastly lack of color her or the rather bird-like demeanor it had with the wing-flapping.

"Kotova," I speak as I caress the face of my dragon, "rytsuragon se dārys se dārilaros." Greet the king and princess.

Kotova pulls her head up and steps a few paces back. She then stretches both her wings, rather effectively blocking a good amount of sunshine and bares all her teeth as she screams at the Targaryens.

Rhaenyra's jaw parts into a small open mouthed smile as she brings her hands to her ears. Daemon steps one pace back and averts his gaze as the gush of hot dragon breath hits his face. He huffs and waves his hands by his nose.

I laugh as Kotova bleats once more for approval as she curls up and turns to me. I laugh and stroke her wiry scales, "olvie sȳz, ñuha jorrāelagon." Very good, my love.

Rhaenyra watches our exchange and pulls away her hands from her head, "her name is Kotova?"

I turn to the princess and smile. I nod "she is my Kotova."

"A quaint name for a dragon," she notes, lightheartedly.

I laugh and raise a hand to her direction, "it is the Astapori word for strong, princess," I turn to Rhaenyra then to Daemon, "I shall introduce you to her, your graces, yes?"

Rhaenyra turns to her king for approval. Daemon nods then motions for her to follow.

The moment the princess nears, Kotova instantly begins to stir with curiosity and heavily sniff the air.

"Asha, Kotova," I mutter as I take the hand of the princess, "ȳdra daor sagon tolī olvie." Hush, Kotova, don't be too much.

Kotova does her best to contain her excitement as I gently lead the girl's hand to the dragon's snout, "bisa iksis Rhaenyra." This is Rhaenyra.

"Rystas, Kotova," she greets hello with a breathy tone.

I catch Rhaenyra's smile as Kotova huffs and moves her head a bit in acknowledgement of the contact. I watch how Kotova turns her head in a telltale manner. I immediately stop her from continuing what I know she was planning to do.

"Daor, Kotova," I speak 'no' sternly.

She huffs in response.

Once I feel the dragonling calm, I release Rhaenyra's hand and allow her to touch as Kotova as much as she'd like. Her hair, strikingly like the tint of my dragon scales, blows back with the wind. She turns to me and smiles, moving towards me, "she is a sweet and kind thing."

"Indeed," I smile and nod, "she is precious to me."

Rhaenyra turns to the side, "uncle, it's your turn now."

Daemon looks as I circle around his niece and reach out to him.

He waits for a few seconds to pass before walking over to me, taking my hand in his. He confidently strides to my dragon and it makes her pull away from Rhaenyra. She then raises her head and tilts it to the side as looks down upon us. The spikes on her hair raise as she breathes in and huffs.

"Kotova," I warn.

Rhaenyra smartly backs away slowly.

I sense no agitation from Daemon, save for how he tightens his grip on me. I turn to him and inhale deeply, "it's because you smell like dragon," I mutter to Daemon as I raise hand, "gīda ilagon, Kotova." Calm down, Kotova.

He mutters without tearing his gaze away from Kotova, "I did not ride my dragon here."

"Didn't you?" I turn to her as Kotova cautiously lowers her head, "you must not have washed properly."

Rhaenyra chuckles from the side.

I continuously hush Kotova until she is comfortable enough to near us.

"Rysta, Kotova," Daemon says hello to the dragon.

I release a soft snort as I turn from the king to the head of the dragon. I bring our hands to her snout and "bisa iksis Daemon, Kotova." This is Daemon, Kotova.

Daemon is shocked by the coolness of the skin. He furrows his brows as Kotova huffs and leans into us.

I pull away from the king and allow him to touch her as much as he wants. I watch him as he scrutinizes the creature before him.

Kotova leans into Daemon's touch and shakes her head. I step away and withhold a smile, doing nothing to hold her back from what I know she's going to do next.

Kotova darts her tongue out and licks Daemon's arm, coating it in thick slober.

I instantly break into a laugh as Daemon curses and pulls back. He turns to me as Rhaenyra joins in with my giggles.

"Ah, so you meant for her to do this," Daemon dryly states, swatting his hand in my direction, making Kotova's saliva splash to my dress. He does not allow his niece to laugh with no repercussions either and baptizes her with dragon spit.

Rhaenyra is hit straight on the cheek, immediately halting her laughter. She growls at her uncle, "Daemon!"

Daemon shrugs, grabbing my skirt, pulling me into him, then wiping his arm there. I grip onto his shoulder as he bends down and dries his dripping arm off on my dress.

I grunt as I lean into him, falling a tad out of balance because of his yanking. I watch as Kotova examines us but makes no attempt to defend me. I nearly scoff at her passivity. She was normally did not take kindly to people touching me. I wonder if it's because she recognizes the dragon in him.

Once he is done wiping the dampness, he straightens himself up and looks down at me, "that was quite amusing."

I shove him away with my hips, "a honor to bemuse you, dear king."

Daemon's shoes dig into the dirt as he keeps himself upright. I move to the other side of Kotova's face, leaving him standing in front of Kotova by himself.

He startles when Kotova huffs as he leans into him.

This time, I hiss in displeasure, "daor, Kotova."

She huffs.

I repeat, "daor."

Kotova pulls back obediently. She tucks her legs in, proceeding to then curl into herself, around me, and rest her head on the ground.

Rhaenyra watches as the dragon's neck curls over to her tail. Kotova pushes me into her body, tucking me under her wing. I grunt as I am covered by the heavy thing, "Kotova!"

She does not respond as I push her wing up and escape the leathery prison.

Upon seeing how I carelessly lean into Kotova and step over her neck to get out of my spot, Daemon furrows his brows and wonders if he would ever to the same with his own dragon. He moves to the side of the glimmering white beast and stops when he sees her face, one eye looking back at him. He only now realized it blue and gold.

He turns to me with furrowed brows as I walk over.

"Fine," the king quips, "tell me, then, how it is you managed to tame this dragon?" He looks off to the side and watches as the creature stares at him, as if unwilling to let him out of his sight.

"The secret is, your grace," I shake my head, "I did not."

Daemon turns to me, an unimpressed expression on his features.

"Kotova, as much as she is dear to me," I raise my brows, "does not belong to me." I look at the dragon as she buries her head into her wing and sighs deeply.

I smile at her catlike action and turn back to Daemon, violet eyes glued on me already. "She is free, king. I do not confine her, I do not stop her from flying far off without me; she is her own keeper.

"Between us, I think, is a bond of mutual respect and affection. I found her when she was no larger than an overgrown lizard and cared for her, thinking she would grow no larger than a small dog." I cross my arms and turn to Kotova.

Rhaenyra walks over to us. I look over to her and, in turn, catch sight the other three men with us, looking out from a far enough distance.

I turn back to Daemon as he says, "surely as the daughter of the Master of Beasts, you would know the difference between a lizard and a dragon."

I ignore his incredulous tone, "Kotova's wings barely resembled what they are now when she was a hatchling, and her skin was translucent," I give him a look, "trust me, king, you may think yourself a dragon expert, but you wouldn't have thought she was a dragon then either."

Daemon does not appreciate the way his title is said.

"I think she was rejected by her clutch, which was why she ended up here in the green lands."

King turns to Kotova, thinking it made sense, considering his own thoughts about her and how she did look like an odd-one-out.

"So, she is amicable," king Daemon utters, "but only borne out of your presence. It does not solve my concern with the forest fires, nor does it change the fact," he turns to me with raised brows, "you are a dragon rider outside of my blood."

I look at Daemon and he clutches his belt and scabbard. A gush of wind blows between us as I asses the man's face. His violet eyes looked almost clear because of the sunlight, and though his expression was blank, I knew better than to mistake it for something like kindness. I turn to Kotova and find myself thinking about how similar they appeared. Even now, the connection between Targaryen and dragon was uncanny.

I speak, "allow me to solve one of your problems then, Daemon."

Rhaenyra pulls her head back at the lack of use of king and looks at her uncle, who narrows his eyes at me.

I whistle then call, "Kotova."

Kotova ignores me.

I suck in a breath and walk over to her, pulling my skirt up, placing my sole on her body, shaking her with my leg, "bē, tala." Up, girl.

Kotova peaks through her wing then huffs, before giving a dramatic protest, throaty and loud.

"Asha," I hush, "rȳbagon," obey.

Kotova stands, and if she could, rolls her eyes as she did so. She stretches her wings out for effect, incidentally pushing both Targaryens in her side away as she did so.

Daemon and Rhaenyra grab each other and move back to the side as Kotova raises her head and flairs her short, stubbly, leathery horns. She gives a shrill squawk then shakes her head.

I call out her name and she rolls her eyes again.

I extend my arms out to the side and crane my neck up at her, commanding, "drakarys."

Daemon and Rhaenyra stiffen with wide eyes. Instinctively, Daemon reaches out for his niece and pushes her behind him as he too steps away, "are you mad?!"

Kotova lowers her head to me and shoves me back with her snout. I am nothing against her strength and nearly topple back. I shake my head and regain my footing as Kotova begins to walk past me slowly, absolutely done with my bullshit.

"Keligon, Kotova," I command 'halt' as I walk in front of her again, "rȳbagon," I mutter 'obey' again once in front of her.

Kotova twists her long neck and hisses.

I recoil when her spit splashes on my cheek. I wipe my face and then rip out a bunch of weeds from the ground and throw it in front of the dragon, "drakarys."

Kotova growls as I point to the weeds.

Daemon watches the dragon huff through her nostrils and shake her wings in annoyance. So, her point is to get herself killed and be done with it?

"Drakarys, Kotova!"

Kotova, after a loud cry that made everyone, including the lord and the two knights, step back at the shrillness of it, finally obeys. A great many flock of birds fly overhead as the dragon breathes onto the tiny strands of grass. She gives out all the air in her lungs, in turn making the weeds shoot off in various directions.

Her exhale is so aggressive, spit splutters out.

Air, spit and more spit, but no fire. No fire at all.

Once Kotova was done, she looks at me and screams.

I recoil at her ear piercing cry and cringe, raising my hands up to her, "krimvo, tala. Emā dohaertan nyke sȳrī." Thank you, girl. You have served me well.

I reach out to her face and she opens her mouth, threatening to nip at me. It was an empty threat I knew, but a threat no less. I pull back and give her a look, "asha," I drop the tone of my voice, "keligon." Hush. Halt.

Kotova shakes her head and wags her slender tail.

"Sȳz!" I wave her off, "Henujagon. Jikagon va." Fine! Leave. Go on.

Kotova gratefully yelps and rather quickly takes off. She makes sure to hover over me, and cause dust and dirt to fly all over my body, as well as my skirt and hair to whip all over, before ultimately ascending, up until she was so high you could barely make her out, especially with how white she was in the sky. She blended well in the clouds and the harsh sun light.

Once she was gone and all of us were reeling with the sand in our eyes and mouths and ears and folds, I turn to Daemon and find him spitting out dirt in between spitting out curses.

I walk over to him and wipe my face, "as you can see, Daemon, Kotova is incapable of breathing fire."

I glance to the face of the lord from the distance, "whatever you and your company know about this Forest Fire is not about my dragon," I turn back to Daemon, "and as for your other concern. Like I said, she is free creature," I shrug, "she barely answered to me, as you bore witness."

Daemon dusts himself off just as Rhaenyra did.

"Of course, you could always wed me-"

The two royals halt.

I raise my brows, "or kill me and my fireless friend."

The king stares at me for a moment. He watches as I brush off my corset and roll my shoulders back. He feels ire prick into his veins, "gaomagon ao mīvindigon nyke, asp?" Do you taunt me, bitch?

I pull my head back and chuckle, "se ānogar hen zaldrīzes dakogon qumblie. Sīr adere naejot zālagon." The blood of the dragon runs thick. So quick to burn.

Daemon struts over to me and leaves little space between us. "Gaomagon daor ȳdragon hen zaldrīzes ānogar naejot nyke," he quips between his teeth. Do not speak of dragon blood to me.

He leans into me, "daoruni gīmī hen drakarys."

"You know nothing of dragon fire?!" I repeat his incredulous words, "ñuha gierion issi se ñuqir hen aōha drakarys, zaldrīzes āzma." My people are the ash of your dragon fire, dragon born.

I shake my head, "Astapor knows more about dragon fire than you ever will."

Daemon chuckles dryly, "you excite me with such pretty notions."

"Then forgive me for putting ideas in your head," I retort, grabbing my skirt, then curtsying dismissively. I then curtsy to Rhaenyra, and look back to her uncle. I stare at him for a moment before walking off.

I hear him scoff and angrily march, catching my arm, "I did not dismiss you, impudent wench."

I turn to him and smile twistedly, "oh, apologies, your grace," I pull my arm away. He does not release me. I huff, "I had already given you solutions to your problems. I did not think it would make you so taken by me so quickly."

"OH HA!" someone calls from afar, making all of us turn to whom called rather carelessly.

The two knights are immediately alerted and unsheathe their weapons as Gael storms over to us.

"Unhand Lady Milidyni this instant," he barks, pointing a finger our way.

"Valzȳrys!" I quip as Daemon releases me and unsheathes his own sword.

Daemon does not hesitate to meet him and surely enough, Gael is quickly cornered at the tip of 3 swords.

"Ao doru-borto qogralbar," I grunt, you stupid fuck.

"If you want to keep your head on your shoulders, you will keep your mouth shut, peasant," Daemon bristles, both hands on his hilt, fully intent to strike.

Before Gael could speak, I bark and point, "shut up, Gael!"

Gael looks at me then Daemon.

Daemon watches as Gael clenches his jaw and raises his hand up in surrender. He scoffs, lips tilting into a smile, "good to know your mutt is obedient to you as well."

Gael turns to me, "skoros gaomas bisa timpa ōghar orvorta jaelagon lēda ao?" What does this white haired cunt want with you?

I roll my eyes at his attempt to speak freely.

Daemon laughs manically and presses closer to him, bringing his blade against Gael's cheek which then rips into his skin, "iderēbagon aōha hembar udra wisely, syt kostis sagon aōha mōrī." Choose your next words wisely, for they may be your last.

"King Daemon!" I call, running towards him, grabbing hold of his arm, "ignore the fool. He's good for nothing."

"Finally something we agree on," retorts the king, although he does not withdraw his weapon and instead shoves me away from him.

"My king," Rhaenyra calls, storming over to him, "please! That's enough."

"Yes," Daemon mutters, "I am king," he words firmly, "and I decide what happens and what does not."

Gael flinches when his ear is poked.

"I say, I might enjoy making your ear into a necklace," Daemon mutters, pressing his blade into the side of his head, making blood drip down his neck.

I curse under my breath.

"But for now, I use you as leverage," he mutters, turning to me, "if you want your dear husband to remain unmutilated, you will make no fuss and obey me. Understood?"

"Understood," I blurt quickly.

Gael lets out a shallow breath when the king pulls away his blade, prompting the knights to do the same.

He then takes my arm and eyes Gael as he drags me off.

"Well done, Hightower," Daemon says, as we pass the bearded man, "though your information is skewed, it seems you shall keep your head after all."

Rhaenyra watches her uncle drag me off then turns to Otto who sighs, "most generous of you, my king."

Gael looks out to the king and heaves, "where are you taking her?!"

"King's Landing," Daemon mutters, looking over his shoulder, "come on then, Rhaenyra."

"Rhaenyra!" Alicent calls the moment she spots her friend, undoubtedly walking this very corridor in order to speak with her.

When the two girls meet, they clutch each other's hands affectionately.

"I am most remorseful for not greeting you the day you arrived. My father was strict about making me finish my lessons on bookkeeping before releasing me."

Rhaenyra makes an amused face of disbelief, "and what exactly where the ledgers that took you three days to finish?"

"The Hightower logs."

The princess laughs, "lessons? My dear, I think you were duped into doing the work meant for Lord Hightower."

The Hightower raises a brow, "you think?"

The two share a laugh.

The princess and the lady immediately link arms and begin to walk off to nowhere in particular.

"So my father has returned with his head," the red haired girl speaks, making Rhaenyra look at her incredulously, "I wouldn't have let Daemon kill him, Alicent. It's why I joined the trip, if it wasn't already obvious."

The girls lean into each other as they walk leisurely.

Alicent releases a breath, "oh yes of course. It was not to see whether or not there was, in fact, a non-Targaryen dragon and a rider in Essos, no?"

Rhaenyra grins and leans into Alicent, "well of course, there's that too."

"I hear it was a woman who tamed the beast, and that she was at the back of the king's horse as you came home."

Rhaenyra presses her lips into a flat line, "a funny thing, Lady Milidyni-- her name. She said she never ridden the back of a horse before, and it both made a lot of sense and no sense at all."

Alicent thinks then shrugs, "perhaps she is accustomed to riding in a carriage."

"Or her dragon," Rhaenyra looks at Alicent's dark eyes with her lighter ones, "you know, her dragon is, perhaps, about as old as Syrax, and a ghastly shade of white."

She nods, "father told me the thing looked like a monster who fled the burn of winter for a taste of spring."

The princess pulls her head back, "Otto Hightower said that? He is quite the poet."

Alicent looks off and shakes her head, "he is not."

Rhaenyra laughs, shaking her blonde hair as she did.

"What does the king plan to do with Lady Milidyni?" Alicent turns to Rhaenyra, "wouldn't it have been easier to kill her to avoid any sort of trouble with the dragon?"

Rhaenyra sighs as she looks at the curve of her friend's cheek and the blush on her lips and cheek, "the day I understand the way my uncle's mind works is the day your father starts liking him."

Alicent holds back her laugh.

"Oh but did you know her name means red beast in Astapori Valyrian?" the princess says excitedly, "Mili is red, and dyni is beast," she smiles, "and the animal of her house is a fox! I think it's rather smart."

Alicent is more fixated over the fact her friend was telling her there was a variant of Valyrian being spoken in Essos.

At this point, there is a vague, far off sound of a gatekeeper announcing the entry of a Lord. It takes a moment for the princess to think of who could possibly be coming to King's Landing at this hour for a visit. Then she remembers.

Instantly, Rhaenyra grips her skirt and yanks Alicent along with her as she runs to the side of the entrance from the floor they were on.

She grins from ear to ear as Alicent hastily keeps up with her, unsure of why they were running and who they were going to see.

They look out the window and the two girls behold a large man with a broad build and dark hair. Rhaenyra gleefully looks down as the Lord with a pointed nose and a thin beard dismounts his equally massive mount.

Alicent looks at the handsome man and then finally notices the emblem on his horse. "Ah, that must be Cregan Stark."

Rhaenyra grins, leaning into her, though her eyes do not leave him "he is quite a looker."

Alicent turns from the man to her princess, watching as her lips curl in delight and her hair blow with the wind, same as hers, "quite."

The two girls turn to each other, "shall we greet him?"

Alicent turn back to the lord, "if it pleases her grace."

Rhaenyra grins and leans against the window, "Lord Stark!"

Everyone from below looks up to the caller, each of them paying dutiful regard to the princess. The Lord Stark himself lifts his eyes upon the two looking out to him, nodding his head when the red haired girl greets him as well.

"My young princess," he bows, "my young lady," he nods, then looks back up at them.

He takes kindly to the eager look upon the Targaryen's face as she asks, "did you bring one of your direwolves, my lord? I would so love to see them."

Cregan grins, lopsided and wolfish in his own right, "I did not, princess. I do not think any of my wolves would appreciate the balminess of your palace, especially at this season," he leans on his leg, "see, I, myself, am already quite fussed by the temperature."

Rhaenyra laughs, "well, I say. I do hope you do not find your stay here too uncomfortable."

He tilts his head, "with two fair maidens greeting me at my arrival? Impossible."

Rhaenyra gives a pleased grin. Alicent smiles softly.

"An honor most high, fair maidens," he bows, "I must now see to the king."

Cregan is directed to take a certain hall in order to where the king would be at the moment. He walks to the end of the corridor as he was told and stops before a door.

He promptly knocks and announces himself.

He listens for a moment, then clears his throat upon hearing the moan that seeps through the cracks.

He presses his lips and moves away from the door, eye twitching at the crashing sound that comes next, along with 'ah yes, more, fuck, yes-'

He clenches his jaw and walks down the corridor, deciding to wait there, leaning by the window.

Cregan pulls at his collar, feeling his sweat clump in the corners of his flesh. He wonders if it would be too improper to remove his coat. He decides it won't and feels better after a layer of clothing was now off his body.

His attention is commanded by the beastly cry from across the grounds. He looks out to the far off area, narrowing his eyes at the vague sight of what he could tell was a dragon. Even at this distance, it was a mighty sight to see. He thinks about what it would feel to see the thing face to face.

He wonders who the red creature's master was. Perhaps the king's? Or was it the princess's?

He then thinks of the rumors of a wayward dragon flying under the ward of a rider not of royal blood. Perhaps this was the very dragon, now captured and under the keep of the crown.

He wonders if one of the people surrounding the behemoth was the rogue rider, now also in the clutch of the king.

"Lord Stark?"

Cregan turns and sees a woman with tan skin, glistening with sweat, and brown hair, wild and unkempt, cascading down past her shoulders. It appears as though she was tying her laces from behind her, "is that you?"

"Yes. I am Lord Stark."

She smiles as she pulls on her laces, "the king says you may enter now."

Cregan nods, "thank you."

He watches as the woman walks off as she tightens her corset from behind.

He blinks and finds himself asking as she makes a strained sound, "do you require assistance?"

The woman looks at him from over her shoulder, lips curling into a smile, "that depends. Will you be undressing me as well, sire?"

Cregan licks his lips and thinks, "No. I don't think I will."

"Then best not keep the king waiting, milord," she says, turning away, walking off.

Cregan thus enters the room, finding the king sat at the end of a messy bed. Tables and chairs were disarray, things that should not be on the floor were, and the king, himself, was not with a shirt.

Though, in truth, he probably should not be looking at the lilac eyed man, and his scars, and his messy hair, both blown out and sticking to the sides of his face, still he does and thinks enviously about how he could freely let himself cool down at present.

He grips the coat he hung in his arm, "King Daemon."

"Wolf man," Daemon says as he drinks from a cup, "how do you do?"

Cregan knows he could not care less about how he does but he answered curtly nevertheless, "I am well, your grace."

Daemon downs his drink and then stands. He walks over to the table, out of place where it was, and pours himself another cup, "thirsty?"

"No, thank you."

Daemon empties the ewer in his cup then turns to Cregan, "Alina," he says andwalks off, grabbing his garb that was thrown on the bedside table, "a pretty little distraction, the whore, very good with her mouth," he puts on his top, "though greedy with coin," he slips one sleeve on, "but I doubt you'll have problems with that."

Cregan watches as the king clothes himself. A moment passes.

"I doubt you requested me to come down from the North to discuss your favorite whore, your majesty," the lord says.

The king chuckles, raising a brow, "just a whore," he adjusts his collar, "they're all the same after you've emptied your balls."

Cregan chuckles.

The king walks over to his drink and takes it, "though I will say we are to discuss something of a whore."

Daemon walks past Cregan. The man follows suit.

They walk down the hall silently while the king drinks and ignores everyone that greets him.

They then arrive to a room and Daemon opens the door to it, pulling his cup away, swallowing heavily. He walks in deeper and Cregan follows suit.

He is then certain the room is empty and chucks his cup to the side and screams, "SERVANT!"

Cregan watches the king as he storms to the door, just as a servant girl comes running over. Daemon seethes, "where is the Astapori bitch that I put here?"

"My king- I- I-"

"You mean you lost her?!" he grabs her face, "you let the cunt escape?"

The servant cannot respond.

Daemon shoves her away.

Caraxes screeches out, tongue flicking as he did, and my heart races at the sound. I clutch my chest as the dragon keeper orders him to heel.

The king's mount reluctantly follows, jowls dripping with slobber as he is continued to be inspected and groomed. I think about Kotova everytime I bask in the glory of the Blood Wyrm, suddenly realizing my dragonling was immensely kinder, more patient, and warmer than what I thought she was. Never have I seen such a bratty, dramatic, and spoiled creature such as Caraxes. Not only was he a picky eater, ten times that of Kotova, but he was a whiny thing, and threw tantrums at every moment he got.

There were times when I spectated that I even called out to him myself, unable to contain the command from my lips as he terrorized the keepers.

Of course, Caraxes could not care less about me, but there was a moment, I swear that he did heed to my call.

I clutch the paper in my hand and hurriedly sketch Caraxes' profile as he is lead on by the dragon keeper to one side of the pit.

Say what you will about him though, he, regardless, was a kingly steed. His blood red scales were vibrant and so reflective of the house Targaryen that even if its rider was not the king, you'd think it was. Though I found penchant to be excessive, it echoed the fact that he belonged to Daemon Targaryen.

I rip my paper into my chest and gasp when I hear a voice mutter right into my ear.

"You are overly comfortable with your stay here," the king quips. He then rips out the object in my clutch, making the charred pieces of wood I was using to draw with drop to the floor.

"Your grace, please-"

"I warned you not to leave your room again, did I not?" he says as he eyes me.

Caraxes makes a huffing noises upon recognizing his rider.

Daemon inspects my sketches as I make futile attempts to snatch them back. He chuckles, "very good."

I heave as he turns to me with a grin, then to his dragon, "Caraxes," he calls loudly, "māzigon valītsos!" Come boy!

Caraxes immediately pulls away from the dragon keeper, who nearly shoots off as he could not release his rein on the dragon quick enough, and comes to his master.

I freeze as Caraxes nears, both in great awe and fear of the creature.

"By the gods," a voice calls from behind, making me turn over my shoulder, finding a man with dark hair and wide eyes, stepping back in fear.

Daemon throws the paper off to the side and walks back, haphazardly pushing me along with him as he did so. He blurts, "drakarys,"

I yelp and jolt back, shielding my face with my arms when fire the shoots out of the jaws of the mighty creature.

I peak past the shoulder of the king, thinking Caraxes was overly dramatic for exhaling that much fire for a few measly pages of paper. It goes without saying, there is absolutely no remnants of my sketch at all.

I release a sigh as Caraxes ceases his fire and looks at his master who sings him quick praise.

"Bisa iksis skoros iā real zaldrīzes jurnegon hae," Daemon says as he turns to me with a soft but utterly pleased smile.

I scoff at his words. This is what a real dragon looks like.

"Was the slobber stain on your tunic not enough?" I retort, furrowing my brows, "Kotova is a dragon no less real than Caraxes."

Daemon takes his turn to scoff, but he does not get to retort for Caraxes, seemingly recognizing his name, moves close to us, huffing as he did.

"Keligon," stop, we both command with a hand raise, making Caraxes cease his pursuit and whine as he pulled his head back.

Daemon snaps at me, "I do not take kindly to you commanding my ride."

"I am merely trying to not be devoured by him," I snip back.

"Then maybe you shouldn't keep sneaking out of your room to draw beasts, fox cunt!"

"At least my pastimes are not uncouth like yours, dragon spit."

Daemon laughs, "dragon spit?" He looks at me like he was predator surveying his prey, "that's somehow disappointingly unoriginal of you."

"Your grace," the dark haired man interjects, seemingly disinclined for a brawl to spring up between us.

Daemon grinds his teeth the turns to him, "yes, wolf man," he says, "I've not forgotten you." He then grabs my arm and shoves me toward him, "meet the Astapori bitch-"

I topple over into large man because of the king's excessive use of force.

"-your bride."

The two of us turn to the white haired dimwit as he laughs and claps his hands, "congratulations, Stark."

The man, presumably Stark, helps me to stand upright, though his eyes are locked on his monarch, "your majesty?"

He giggles under his breath, not unlike a child that was found in the middle of a chaotic act meant to amuse him, "I do think it a happy pair, a wolf and a fox."

I brush myself off roughly and Stark stares blankly.

"Actually," Daemon shakes his head, "I could not care less not if you do not marry the wench. You may keep her as a plaything, or a slave," he waves his hands, "just keep her."

"I do not understand, your grace," he speaks, "you've summoned me to tell me-"

"To command you," Daemon raises a finger, "to keep this thing under your paw," he turns to me, "lest she thinks of doing something with her mount."

"Her mount?" he knits his dark brows.

"Yes," Daemon turns to him. He watches the man scrunch his nose in confusion. He makes a face, "oh you slow, slobbering pup. This is the dragon rider from Essos-"

Stark turns to me.

"-the scale soother herself," the king chuckles dryly, turning from me back to him, "why even now you witnessed how she tried to command my own mount, Caraxes, as though she had the blood of a Targaryen."

I glare at him, "what insult to compare your blood and mine."

The king gives one loud, exaggerated laugh, "agreed."

Stark blinks as Daemon slaps his arm and walks off, "I cannot keep her here, as you can tell. She grows more confident around my dragon by the day. Though I do not doubt his loyalty to me, I much more do not trust the mind of a plotting woman."

Caraxes makes a sound as Daemon nears him, "I trust you will invite me to your wedding feast, if you ever find her useful enough to marry," he gives a look to Stark, "and do inform me if she poses to be too difficult."

I look at the dark haired man as he looks at the floor.

In truth, I was shocked by the news as well, but then again, I was rather expecting to be kept in a prison cell for the rest of my days, and so this was a rather mellow note to conclude with. It sure beats being dragon food. I do wonder why he did not think of making me into a snack for his dragon.

I take in the man's pressed lips and large frame. I then wonder if this Stark fellow is much more unsavory than his Targaryen counterpart.

I decide not let myself believe this and to start with no ill feelings, "Lady Milidyni," I curtsy, as I tell him my first name.

He turns to me with knit brows, "you are a lady?"

I am partially confused and offended by his shock but I play it off. "We do have nobility in Essos, sire," I look at him then off to the king that was now cooing to his dragon. I scoff, "though I'm sure your king would make us all out to be barbarians with no wits and no governance."

The man finds himself letting out an unexpected laugh. I turn back to him as he chuckles. I watch as his lips curl upward. He is rather handsome like this.

"Cregan." He nods to me in regard, "Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell."

"My father is Lord of Woodway. He also the Master of Beasts."

Cregan slowly nods his head at the information.

I chuckle, recognizing his confusion, "he studies animals and catalogues them accordingly. I think he would be something like a maester here."

"Ahhh," he nods more surely, "I see. Is that were you get your love for animals and why you risked your life for a glimpse of this terror?"

I chuckle under my breath, "yes. I do think I get my love for animals from my father, but he says I get my insanity from my mother."

He chuckles again, covering his mouth as he did, "your mother reminds me of my own."

"Is she also dead?"

He lifts his head to me with a surprised look, "... aye."

"Then they indeed they are the same. May the gods rest both their souls."

I turn to Caraxes as Daemon dotes on him. At the very least I can respect they way he treats his magnificent ride, "he is not so much a terror, I think."

"The king?"

I scowl and shake my head, "Caraxes."

He lets out a breath as he surveys the said creature, "I will take your word for it."

I turn back to the man and offer a smile, "I would say it is good to meet you, but it really isn't and I would much have rather not meeting you at all."

Cregan chuckles again, though this time, it is much louder.

I purse my lips and give him a look.

Daemon, who was stroking Caraxes by the cheek turns upon hearing the sound. He makes a face at the sight of laughter across him.

"Are all the ladies in Essos as honest as you, my lady?"

I snort and cross my arms as I turn to him, "no. Only me."

Cregan laughs. I chuckle under my breath, decidedly thinking he was far too easy to amuse.

He catches his breath and he turns to me to offer out his arm. I hesitate momentarily, in disbelief of his actions. I take his arm nonetheless, and he then leads me off.

He speaks my name softly, as if measuring the way it rolled off his tongue.

I says his name in return, though with less care and more inquiry.

"You are a scale soother?"

I roll my eyes, "your king mocks me with the title."

"Ah," Cregan nods, "that does seem to be a rather unbelievable skill to be had outside the royal lineage."

I let out a half-amused sound.

"Is it correct of me to assume that your dragon is being held here in the dragon pit?"

I watch as he raises a brow. I shake my head, "Kotova is not held anywhere. Her company is her own to keep."

He knit his brows, "I do not follow."

"Kotova," I explain, "the dragon I have bonded with, is not a dragon that I keep the way the Targaryens do. I do not ask of her to do anything for me, save, perhaps, to keep me company and to scare off some men, in exchange for venison or rabbit."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "I am in disbelief."

"Fortunately, I do not mind if you cannot believe me."

"No, I believe you," he says, "I merely think it is a tale you would tell a child," looking off as he pushed his chest, "a beautiful maiden, friends with a dragon."

"Asha," I snort, "I see you are no less insolent than your king."

Cregan holds back a laugh, "it will do you well not to speak of the king all together if you do not have anything well to say, vixen."

Well, he's not wrong.

"I wonder, then, why your dragon has not come to you here to save you from your captor?"

I shake my head, "Kotova sometimes leaves for months at a time. She may not have noticed my absence at all. I doubt she would even look for me, in all honesty."

"Well, how long have you been here?"

"A good four days, including this one."

Cregan nods, "then let us not wait for a fifth then and depart for the North after a meal."

I look at him as he turns to me, "I am loathe to stay in such weather for too long."

I raise a brow, "is the north very cold then?"

His eyes glisten, "worry not, I will not allow you to perish in the cold."

I am inclined to believe he means to protect me, that he means not to harm me, and those words of his were proof of it. But I do not allow myself to be deluded by his pretty smile. He is a man, and men rarely know how to do anything but harm.

Still, I smile back at him and nod, "of course, Lord Stark."

"Cregan," he corrects, "I wish you to call my name, as I wish to call yours."

I nod once more, "Cregan."