#mychael ask

[deerspherestudios]

HII!! I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH <33 So, I know Mycheal is asexual but people are asexual for many reasons. What is the reason for Mycheal being asexual?

He just is! 🍄❤️

[liria-jat]

Here I show a drawing I made of Mychael, I fell in love with him too much! ❤（っ＾▿＾）

The game was incredible, the music, the conceptual art, everything! The gameplay was wonderful! ❤

On the first day it was incredible to meet Mychael to see that he was a kind boy and one could assume that he was naive, but over time and with what As he leaves knowing the game, I realize that he is a very smart boy and not at all naive, who is aware of what is happening around him.

I loved the first day and the bad endings hurt me a lot, but the second day I was delighted! With Mychael's knowledge, the way he spoke, his gestures, everything looked so welcoming, and the chicken scene It was beautiful! And when he took us to the flower field, it was incredible, I was blushing with every interaction!(„• ֊ •„)

I can't describe how much I love the game, the music and the depth of Mychael's kind and genuine personality, he honestly stole my heart.

But I have a question, I have always liked to ask people their favorite animal, flower and color, to get to know them a little better it seems to me that even though the questions are a little silly, I like to do it^^, in case That I would ask Mychael. What would he answer?

I don't know if my English is good, since it is not my native language, since I translated everything by the Google translator, so I apologize if there are some grammatical errors (╥﹏╥)

[gonsia]

Я вас люблю, ваши рисунки выглядят вкусно,я хочу их скушать♡

Мне очень приятно! Я хочу выразить всю любовь, которую я уже получаю от вас!!!!

[millocutfish]

Don't you think it's bad that Mychael is manipulating the MC?

Ok... Answering this seriously

I believe that no one would like to be manipulated and forced to live in a house with a green creature that hypnotizes us BUT compared to other yanderes, Mychael is without a shadow of a doubt the least aggressive, or one of the least aggressive, this is already a huge difference, that's why he's so captivating to me, I already have a lot of problems in life, so it's good to find someone "light" XD

Sorry for taking so long to respond (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

[talkbycolor]

mushroom oasis headcanons . . . ↷

A/N; im very sensitive about mychael too, oops

Pairing; "Mychael" x GN!Reader

CW; idk alien sex (jk) / this is actually cute, dont worry

Mychael as your boyfriend.

I just know that he likes to listen to ABBA with you and dance in the mornings when making breakfast or at night before going to sleep.

He purrs at bedtime, especially if you pet his hair.

You can caress his horns, they are softer than they look but also sensitive, be delicate

After a while of relationship, he could no longer avoid the growing guilt he felt and told you about the mushrooms in the forest and the brainwashing he did to you at the beginning.

Definitely identifies with Roar's "Christmas Kids" song.

Be thankful he doesn't have an internet connection or he'd make Deez Nuts cringe jokes.

He is the perfect person for fairycore, you have already begged him to do makeup together, even though he didn't need any of that.

He likes to feel safe, silly and childish with you, having learned to take care of himself since… well, always, it was a drain on the soul. what a relief to his heart to be able to be childish with you, like a break.

He still has certain self-esteem problems, his eyes always dilate when you say nice things about him (or when he's about to jump and attack ((kiss you)))

It's not like Mychael is an uncivilized being, but you've taken the time to teach him several things on dates you've had, things that perhaps he didn't know due to his isolation from society.

You're actually a little scared of what could happen if they discover Mychael's existence, so if you live together it will be in the forest.

Sometimes he is selfish and brainwashes you when he wants more kisses or just feels too needy to let you go out with your friends.

For him there is no such thing as breaking up, he will beg you for answers and ask countless times what the problem is or what you want him to change, as a last resort he would brainwash you so that you stay by his side, even if it's like a shell.

"They were 20 and decided to end their life just like this. They went up to the 21st floor and left without saying "goodbye." I wonder if when they were flying through the air they remembered… ..I once told him if you kill yourself I'm gonna kill myself too!" Basically Mychael not being able to continue with his life alone once he meets MC, if you leave, so does he.

The first time you had sex, bro, Mychael almost had to be chained up, he acted like a spoiled kid when he tried his new favorite candy.

Mychael composes songs for MC, he will even try to get new instruments, new talents, anything to entertain his firefly and have them stay in the forest with him.

Is the kind of old-fashioned sculpted lover, don't doubt that you will look like a 60-year-old couple with 3 chickens and a dog, your wish is his command. If you can't go out to eat at an elegant restaurant, he will get a recipe book to prepare the best dishes and put candles on the table. If you don't have new clothes, he will knit what you like. If you don't like the color of the cabin, he will paint everything as many times as necessary.

Physically? Mychael will never hurt you, using guilt as manipulation is not to his liking either, he loves you too much so he will only wash your brain to have a perfect life by your side, don't worry, you are safe from the world and you will have healing caresses every night , even if it is not today, if it is not tomorrow, you will learn to need it on your own and stay at will.

Mychael is terrified of people, the opinion of the masses made him think of himself as a monster and he can't help but blurt out little comments mocking his own appearance. Being with you makes him forget what he is. Why was he surprised? Because you didn't look away.

His saliva is a little salty and something tells me that he produces goo when he is excited, trust me (delulu)

♡

[maleyanderecafe]

Mushroom Oasis (Visual Novel)

Created by: DeersphereStudios

Genre: Romance/Horror

Mushroom Oasis is very cute, and I love Mychael's design a love (I'm a huge sucker for good monster design). @deerspherestudios always seems to make pretty nice games with cute characters and it was really nice to be able to hang out with Mychael! The artwork in it is also very pretty and cozy, much like Mychael himself.

The story starts out with the MC losing their cat, and has become worried about their disappearance. After being unable to look for them, they desperately look into the forest near their house. After wandering for a very long time, they end up stepping in a fairy circle, where they pass out due to the spores after finding their cat's collar.

Waking up in a cabin, they are tended by someone with messy hair. The two of them talk for a while, with the guy revealing himself to be named Mychael. The MC finds Mychael's appearance to be a little bit odd given the horns, his green skin and his pointed ears. The MC tries to ask Mychael where their cat is, showing them a picture of her, but Mycheal doesn't seem to know. Mychael seems touched that the MC is willing to go out of their way to find their cat, and is happy to make conversation with him. While the MC tries to go home, Mycheal seems to convince them using his spores that they should stay. Mycheal brings the MC to the kitchen and offers them food.

If the MC refuses and leaves, Mycheal will reluctantly let them, but as they walk, they end up falling to the forest's influence, passing out. The end is Mycheal walking sadly to see the body of the MC taken by the mushrooms in the ground next to their cat.

If they agree, Mycheal will cook them something and the MC eats it eagerly. The two talk about why Mycheal lives in the woods until the MC accidentally drops their mug on the floor... which Mycheal catches with his tail, later revealing his four eyes. This can lead the MC to either freak out or stay calm.

If the MC decides to calm down, Mycheal will become bashful hiding behind his plate, telling the MC that he'd be willing to hide his eyes if they'd prefer. The MC drinks the tea, and reassures Mycheal about his appearance. Mycheal insists on having the MC stay for the night.

If the MC freaks out, they will try to escape. Mycheal tries to get them to calm down. They can either attempt to take the sewing needles as a defense or leave them.

Leaving them will cause Mycheal to grab the MC forcefully and use his spores to brainwash them into calming down. He cries a bit, sad that he won't be able to love the "real" MC but is willing to play along with the sedated and brainwashed version of them. The MC is then brainwashed into believing that they've been with Mycheal all of their life as Mycheal plays along with this state.

Taking the needles will cause Mycheal to release spores to get the MC to calm down, however, if the MC does attack him, the needles are stabbed into his heart causing him to fall down bleeding. As Mycheal dies on the floor, he talks about how happy he was that the MC was there with him before dying. The MC feels regret.

I gotta say that this artwork is way, WAY too pretty, from the backgrounds to the characters, it's just really cozy and it's great. I love Mychael's design since I love looking at unique monster designs and it's pretty cool seeing a mushroom based monster character. His four eyes are just so expressive, and he has cute expressions. The creator really has to pull on the heartstrings on the ending where he dies though, don't they.

As a yandere, Mychael is pretty interesting because he is pretty much doing the right thing in forcing the MC to stay with him. As we see in the bad endings, if the MC does end up leaving Mychael's cabin, then they end up being taken by the forest much like their cat, so subduing the MC using his spores is probably the best he can do to make sure that they don't leave, even if it's likely out of selfishness as well since he is pretty lonely. The spores do raise up the question of how powerful his mind control is, as we see that sometimes the MC can break out of it, while in others, such as the ending where the MC is braindead, they can pretty much completely erase their memory. It might come down to how much is released in the air or even what kinds are released. It's possible it might come from his eyes as well, since they turn into a sort of pink hypnotic state. Mind control in yandere stories is an interesting topic to get into since it goes into the idea of if the yandere is okay with an MC that doesn't really have a free will anymore and the amount of angst if they do ever snap out of it. Mychael is a curious creature since I'm not sure we know where he came from or if he's the only one of his kind. My theory is that he's some sort of mutation with the forest (since he's able to sort of tell when the forest "takes" someone and is unaffected by it or at least knows how to avoid it) and possibly was chased out by humans at some point as well (thus his complex about his appearance) so he's forced into isolation. Or I'm completely wrong since there can be a lot of reasons why he isolates himself so much. Also, his blushing sprite? Adorable, I love it.

Overall, a pretty cute demo. I like how it's introduced with the MC running after their cat which I feel is pretty different from how other VNs I've played initially introduce their MC. I'm curious to see how Mycheal will develop as a yandere as the story goes on.

[lovecorehs]

I hope you like my drawing of bloody death and epic fights

Is a strawberry and a mushroom together helping?? Come and fight, I won't overcome 🍄🍓

You know one time mychael told yooh that she wouldn't leave that forest she had a panic attack and lay down on the ground and started crying

I hope he has fun with my daughter who I threw into the forest to die but he ended up saving her Lol

My friend asked me how tall Yooh is then I remembered that she is like an ant next to Mychael HELP

Sorry for not existing I was just traveling in a place far from my consciousness

[fancifulflora]

Something New: Soda (Mychael x Reader)

I now am writing for a new character! He just gives me so much serotonin I had to crawl out of my cave to throw something down. The character for those who don't know, is Mychael from Mushroom Oasis. A VN by Deersphere Studios if i remember correctly

___________

Mychael stared down at the aluminum can with vague recognition, the tip of his tail swinging back and forth as he lowered his head down to be eye level with the drink.

It was really shiny. Colorful too.

"I picked up something from the store for you," you did your best to explain as you unpacked your groceries, fighting back a smile as you watched him cautiously wrapped his tail around the soda and lifted it for closer inspection. "You do know what soda is right?"

"A little... I've seen it on the sides of roads. Although not like this..." He muttered, squinting at the drink before giving it a small shake. For Mychael, who liked keeping his trysts to the modern human world short, soda was just crushed litter that filled the sides of roads and forest paths. Shiny litter, but litter nonetheless.

He gave it another shake, hearing the slosh of liquid inside.

Oh no.

"Wait!"

Your raised voice instantly cast a spell on the recluse, Mychael as still as a statue, only his his widened eyes daring to shift over to you across the table. Did he do something wrong?

"Just... be careful." You warned, placing a hand on his tail and lowering the can to safety. "It might blow if you shake it too hard."

Mychael's gaze turned fearful as he looked down at the nuke you had just brought into your shared home, a cold sweat sliding down his back.

Blow?

Now that would certainly explain all those crushed pieces of aluminum wouldn't it?

He placed down the can as gingerly as possible before pulling his tail to safety. Then he looked over at you an awkward smile given in thanks for such a dangerous gift.

Amusement, the corner of your lip was raised at the sight of him. Oh... You must have been joking... probably.

"I'm only teasing," Your confirmation lessened his worry as he watched your retreating form fetch two cups and crack open the can, the fizz bringing another twitch to Mychael's ears as he watched foamy liquid begin to be portioned out for the two of you.

"What does it taste like?" He asked, taking a cup from you and feeling a light mist hit him as he took a precursory sniff at the drink.

Not much to note smell wise.

Interesting...

"This one is lemon flavored. I'm pretty sure they take some flavored syrup and then inject carbonated water into it to make soda."

"What's car-bun-ate water?"

"Uh... I'll explain it to you another day," Mychael nodded at this, happy to settle for one new piece of information at a time. Carefully he tilted the cup and then took a deep sip of this mystery drink.

It stung against his taste buds... but not in any overly painful way. And there was an almost sickly sweetness to it. Like berries a little too ripe into the season, just, he supposed, without the berry flavor.

He could sorta taste the lemon flavor, perhaps lemons were different for the humans that made this drink. Or maybe it was a type of lemon he couldn't forage for or buy around this area.

Either way... it was good.

His best friend's laughter brought his attention back to them, a finger bring pointed at his tail.

"I can see you like it a whole lot," You mused, watching his tail wildly whip back and forth. It stopped the moment you pointed it out, a dark blue spreading across Mychael's ears and face as he frantically tucked the wayward tail away.

"I-It was really good, the drink. Kinda weird, but in a good way!"

"Well I'm glad you like it, it's not the best thing to have all the time but if you want, I can grab a new flavor every once in a while... let you see try them out and see what you like." The offer was almost as sickly sweet as the drink he could still taste on his tongue, Mychael looking down at his now empty cup before giving a small lick of his lips and nodding.

"Yeah...yeah, I think I'd like that, please..." he whispered, the shy request bringing an unnoticed smile onto his guest's face.

"It's a deal."

[emipotato]

Mini comic inspired by this ask!

(Ignore how ugly my handwriting looks in this rn lmao)

[beautifulloverwitch]

By Fire, Sea and Blood

the untold tale of an approaching collapse

Act I: Chapter eleven: another visit.

Previous ///// Next

Summary: the search goes on for Rhaenyras missing daughter, but hopes begin to dwindle as many begin to believe a cruel face had paid a visit once more.

A/n: I have not revised this at all lmao, if there are any mistakes please overlook them for the time being&lt;3

_________________

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Daenerys Velaryon (Strong! Oc)

WC: 9k

Warnings: descriptions of death, abuse of power, death.

Masterlist

Cries echoed in the village as men, women and children were ripped away from their homes. Made to watch while their homes were ransacked, floorboards ripped out, and walls broken open. Outlaws herded together and brought in for questioning, their confessor being the fearsome, lean and red Caraxes.

Daemon stood at the centre of the village, his eyes flitting to each house, patiently waiting for someone to come forth. Daemon did not believe a reward of coin had sufficed, for as shiny and valuable it may have been, it was not worth more than one's only life. 

He ignored the cries, and the curses thrown at him by man, woman and child.

His dark clothes weighed heavily with rain water, his feet sunk into the mud as he stood and watched. His hair wet around his tired and sharp face.

Glancing over his shoulder he hummed in satisfaction as he saw his Dragon gnaw away at another outlaw, he wondered to himself which one had this been? Rapist? Thief? Murderer? He scoffed at the thought, what did it matter? They were all the same to him. The sound of desperate pleads hit his ears, a sound he had grown to find annoying. He found solace in hearing the booming thunder overshadow the sounds of their cries.

Glancing to his left he saw a crazed woman trying to gain the guardsmen's attention, pleading them for help, on what matter, none of them had been interested in entertaining.

An uneasy knight carefully approached the scarily calm prince “have you found her?” he asked.

“No my prince, we’ve searched every home,” the knight reported, looking around himself, wondering how necessary this all was.

Daemons jaw ticked with impatience, this has gone on too long “then start searching their fucking heads before they start losing them,” he commanded.

The knight's eyes widened “We’ve tried,” he told “All of them have claimed to not even know what she looks like, terrorising them like this is unnecessary,” Daemon turned back to look at him, stepping away from his horse as he eyed the brave young knight “what's your name?”

“Ser Lance Beesbury, my prince,” he answered.

Daemon let out a hum of feigned amazement as he looked him up and down “how old are you?”

“Seven and ten my prince, I was knighted by the lord commander Westerling three months ago,” he said.

“I didn’t ask you that.”

He shook his head “you did not, my prince, forgive me,” the poor knight feared that he would meet his end at the hand of the rogue prince, so early on in his knighthood. 

“A fresh knight,” Daemon mumbled to himself, “searching for my wife's missing daughter.”

Lance squirmed fearing to meet the end of Daemon's sharp sword, or his even sharper tongue.

“Ser Mychael!” Daemon called out, his eyes not leaving the face of the young knight.

“Why are knights without an ounce of experience searching for my step daughter?” he questioned, the approaching white cloak.

Mychael glanced towards the fear-struck boy, speaking in his defence “my prince, we need more men, so I gathered every knight new and old to help, without them we would not be able to fulfil such a search with the effort we have.”

Daemon hummed, unimpressed by the idea “no wonder this search has gone for so long,” he mumbled.

“My prince! The princess Rhaenyra requests that you join her in the painted room, you have guests,” A messenger told.

Daemon frowned “who?”

“Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.”

Daemons eyes widened, rushing to his horse as he grumbled “The fuck do they want?”

Lance watched the prince as he left, heaving out a breath he had not known he had been holding. He hissed as he earned himself a swat to the back of the head from his superior.

“First day here and your already on your way to Caraxes’s gullet?” Mychael chastised.

Lance stumbled back before being pulled forward, he kept a stiff lip in the face of his frustrated superior. He had not meant to have such a confrontation with the rogue prince, he came here to help that was all, not stir strife. 

“I thought it best to explain to the prince-.”

“You explain nothing to the prince, you only listen!” Mychael harshly reminded.

Lance clenched his jaw to not speak, he would need to learn not to speak out of turn, a skill that had slipped his mind as he exhausted himself to be worthy of knighthood. His face flushed in humiliation as he saw two familiar knights heading his way, preparing himself for their remarks.

“I fear you may need to say that again Ser, I think the boy may be as slow as his father,” one of them advised, speaking of Lance as though he was not there. 

Lance frowned at the insult made towards his father, as true as it may have been. 

The other knight tore off Lance’s helm, pushing his hair away as he shouted in his ear “HE SAID YOU DON’T SPEAK UNLESS SPOKEN TO!”

Lance shoved him away after taking back his helm, clutching his ear, he was with a head of unspecial light brown short hair, his pale blue eyes looked awake compared to his fathers tired ones, he was tall and muscular in stature for his age, from afar one would have perceived him a man three decades old before noticing the innocent gleam in his eyes, no wonder Harrold had decided to knight the boy, he oozed with promising potential.

Humfrey chuckled, taking a quick swig from his flask before looking towards Lorent, leaning against the frustrated Lance “shall we take to the ports Ser, I’m sure we’ll find a misplaced crate to present as a clue to the princess.”

Mychael gave him a pointed glare before sighing “No… I cannot have you be here when prince Daemon returns,” he said, glancing out towards the chaos before recalling the irritated concerns he had received from the people. He nodded towards the two dragonkeepers that were stood idly by, the younger of the two fearfully looking at the disrepair around him.

“I’ve heard word of dragons taking lambs from pastures,” Mychael said. 

Humfrey frowned, puzzled as to why this was a problem “sheepstealer? They should be happy that the ugly cunt is sating his hunger with their sheep and not their lives.”

“But it isn’t Sheepstealer,” the younger Dragonkeeper quickly corrected, bowing his head beneath the knight's judging stare. He continued once Mychael had given him a sign to go on “all the large dragons have all sheltered in, they’ve already gathered their stock for the winter,” he explained before telling them “there has been a sighting of three baby dragons, black, red and green, small enough to catch, large enough to be a concern.”

The other knight interrupted, “this sounds like a problem for your lot to solve.”

“It is and you will all help them,” Mychael instructed, his eyes landing back on the quiet Lance “find them and bring them to the dragonmont.” 

“Why not slay them?” Humfrey questioned, his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his sword, seemingly excited.

Lorent arched his brow “Eager to be a dragonslayer ay?”

“All dragons belong to house Targaryen you half wit, even the wild ones,” Lance explained.

Mychael nodded “killing them costs you your head, catching them grants you a fortune of honours,” he frowned as he saw the reluctant looks on their faces “what appeals to you facing three baby dragons, or a dragon that doesn’t need flames to kill you?”

Their faces paled as they recalled the darkness that loomed about the unusually calm rogue prince, fearful of what small thing could trigger his fury to unleash.

“Ser Humfrey, I expect this to not be too much of a hassle for you,” Mychael asked, ignoring the look of disbelief from Lance.

“Him?!”

“Not at all Ser Mychael,” Humfreys answered, a smirk stretching across his thin lips as he relished in Lance’s outrage.

Mychaelleft, ignoring Lance's protests. Humfreys arm slung around his shoulder “you’ve much to learn little bee before you take charge of this hive.”

Lance shrugged his arm off, sneering at his now superior.

The other knight next to him chuckled as he cheekily asked “regretting your choices now aren’t ya lad?”

Lance sent the knight a pointed look, warning him not to prod and pick at the matter.

“Go polish your shields!” He commanded, laughing as he smacked the backsides of the two knights as they left before looking at the two unimpressed dragon keepers.

Rhaenyras fingers tapped over one another as they lay clasped on the table. Bloodshot eyes flitting across the ancient painted table, wondering what corner she had left unsearched. She was surrounded by commanders, members of her court, guardsmen, and her Maester, Gerardys. Twas another day of hearing their reports of what little progress they had made in their search.

Gerardys’s hand circled his wrist anxiously beneath his cloak “I’ve received word from the wardens in the west, and south and the lord of Storm's end…” he gulped before glancing over to Rhaenyra as she looked his way “they have all ceased their search for the princess.”

Rhaenyras lips tightened with contempt as she looked at the southern region of the painted table. Wondering if they had forgotten the cost of their stagnance. 

One of the commanders glanced from the Maester and towards the distraught princess, searching for a reaction he would not find on her tense face.

“But I have received word from the north and the riverlands, they remain as eager as we are,” he quickly assured.

The commander fiddled with the handle of his sheathed sword, contemplating the right words to say as he stepped forward “Might I give my counsel on this matter your grace?”

Rhaenyra looked his way, expecting something useful to fall from his lips.

“It should be no surprise that many have begun to… halt their search for your sweet daughter,” he walked on the edge of danger as he spoke, his words pushing him over to the flames on the other side “for they know the harsh truth, that all here know as well,” he claimed, many began to shake their heads for none had agreed that he would be speaking on their behest “I would wager, that even you know but refuse to admit it,” he spoke, hoping to guide her gently to what he was to say next “this world is unkind to little girls, tis’ not possible that the princess Daenerys had avoided its cruelty.”

A dreadful silence fell upon the room, so silent you could almost hear the warning cracks of Rhaenyra’s fiery glare, her voice was eerily cold as she asked “are you tired Commander Irwin?”

His lips parted in surprise, stammering out his answer “no, I am not princess.”

“Your words tell me otherwise,” she said, before asking another question “do you think my daughter dead?”

The man gulped, glancing around him for help, but everyone seemed to have stepped away, he was alone in this dragon's den. He knew there was no right answer to that question but he needed to answer either way “Tis not an impossibility-.”

“So you’ve found her then?” she asked expectantly.

He shook his head, bewildered by this line of rapid questioning “no, I have not.”

“So you're proclaiming my daughter dead without a body to prove it,” tilting her head as she waited for his answer. Words of dragon fire tingling at the tip of her tongue as she stared at him.

“I… I-”

“You’re useless, I realise that now” she said, finishing for him the sentence he had yet to form. She was tired of his stammering, and angry for he had wasted valuable time “Commander Mervin, do find someone else to take your place, for you have been instated as first in command, know that your first assignment is to get Irwin out of my sights.”

Mervin’s widened eyes met with his once superior, surprise soon turned to pride. Nodding to the other guardsmen to help escort the protesting Irwin out of the hall.

“You can’t do this!” he cried out, he received no answer from Rhaenyra, who saw no use in entertaining these feeble attempts. He was fortunate for the restraint the princess had, if the rogue prince was present he would have needed to be replaced for different reasons.

Rhaenyra’s eyes passed over each face of the men in the room before cautioning them “should I hear another one of you proclaiming my daughter to be dead without evidence of it, know that I will have you walk yourself willingly to my dragon's gullet.”

“Princess!” 

Rhaenyra looked towards the guard at the door “what is it?”

“The Sea Snake requests an audience with you, urgently,” he informed.

Rhaenyra sighed, she had delayed the audience with them so long,hoping that Daemon would show up already. In her defence, they had arrived uninvited, she was not aware of their coming presence.

With a wave she dismissed them, and they were quick to file out. 

“Let them in,” Rhaenyra reluctantly told before returning her focus back to the painted table.

A thousand words stung the tongue of Rhaenys Targaryen as her gaze landed upon Rhaenyra. A wild fire burning around the reflection of the heir within her brown eyes. 

Her mind still ached with sorrow but her heart burned with a rage, her house was humiliated and insulted before the realm. She was robbed of everything left that had been held dear to her once full heart, and even that had amounted to nothing to this world. In her years she has seen pigs treated with more respect than her children, whose memories had turned to ash with them. All because of their desires, all because of that greedy throne. Her eyes scoured Rhaenyra’s face for regret, for guilt, for something, she was irked to find nothing that she wanted. Only a face ailed by sleepless nights.

The seeds of their animosity began to sprout and quickly shaped into a twisted sapling, waiting to be nourished again, but they were old and wise enough to know to restrain it, to hide their disdain behind looks and remarks.

 She did not tense beneath the weighty stares of her unexpected visitors.

Before they even had the chance to speak, the doors of the hall burst open and Daemon stomped his way in angrily, their intrusion was not a welcome one. He looked across the table where his wife was sitting, frowning as he saw her slumped and weak stature; he had spent these days in agony, watching her slowly cave in on herself with every passing moment without her daughter.

“What occasion grants you the right to invite yourselves here?” Daemon angrily questioned the stiff faced Corlys and Rhaenys, Standing tall beside the slumped Rhaenyra.

The seething Corlys spoke with an indifferent expression that did well to mask his anger “I admit it unseemly to come here without notice, especially at a time like this,” his judging eyes narrowed as they flitted over to Rhaenyra “but we have come here to take our granddaughter, if I recall correctly I have been promised to have her as my wifes ward.”

Daemon's face twisted with disbelief, his head so slightly reared back as he heard their words, a note of caution laced in his worryingly quiet voice as he spoke “I never said you would be taking her, we promised she would be sent to you, did we not?” he asked glancing at Rhaenyra for support, but she was not with them in this discussion, it had not involved the mention of her daughter, so what point was their to listen to them bicker?

He breathed in a heavy breath through his nose before turning to look at them again, slowly stepping towards them, a sly attempt at shielding his wife from being seen like this any longer, he doubted that the Velaryons were above spreading word of how pitiful the realms heir had looked especially with the grievances that had been stewing silently between them.

“That was more than two months prior to today,” Corlys pointed out angrily.

“If I recall, all my kin were still beneath the roof of this castle two months prior, were they not?” Daemon reminded.

Corlys let out a sharp sigh “We know of the predicament you are in, I worry for my granddaughter just as much as the two of you,” his eyes widened with anger at the short snigger that left the lips of the man in front of him.

“Had that been true you would have granted us your help, instead you’ve come to make demands of us,” Daemon told a slight twitch pulling down at the corner of his smirk.

Rhaenyra finally looked up from the table, towards the three, her red eyes landing on Corlys. For a second Rhaenys had begun to believe that she had nothing to do with her son's death, but she quickly concluded that Rhaenyra was arrogant enough to expect such services from the people she had hurt.

Quite the contrary, he had offered some help, upon receiving the news of her disappearance, he had his ports searched and informed every voyager that returned and left to keep a keen eye out for her, to him, that seemed to be the bare minimum he could have done as her apparent grandsire.

“I have not come here to argue,” Corlys was not pleased with the accusation as he tried to steer away from the matter “We have come all this way-.”

“For naught unfortunately,” Daemon interrupted “I do not know if news passed over your sorry island but your eldest granddaughter has gone missing and until I have Daenerys brought before me I will not have any of my children leaving my sights.”

“Do you really think it safe for your daughters to stay on the very island she went missing on?” Rhaenys spoke, cutting between them. The action startled Corlys, who retreated away from her as she stepped forward; they may have arrived together but the wall of tension between them kept them far apart, neither knowing how to tear it down gently. 

Rhaenys spoke to the fear Daemon would never wish to admit “let them come with us,” she advised, reluctantly continuing as she glanced over towards Rhaenyra “all of them.”

Rhaenys did not want to take the boys, but she needed to make them think that she had believed this delusion if she had wanted to have her Granddaughters.

Rhaenyra ran her hands over her face before telling them “how thankful we are for your thoughtful offer, we will consider it duly… but not now,” she said, nodding towards Daemon “the children will be staying here, until Daenerys is brought home.”

Corlys breathed out, looking towards his jaded wife.

“I understand the journey was long,” Rhaenyra assured as she sat taller in her seat “I offer you both a place to stay here, til you have rested well enough to leave, and hopefully by then my daughter will have returned to me for us to fulfil our promise to you.”

The two arched their brow, they knew Rhaenyra wanted her daughter to be home sooner rather than later.

Rhaenyra gestured for a servant to come her way, informing him to have chambers befitting the lord of the tides and the princess prepared as soon as possible.

“Might I see my granddaughters?” Rhaenys abruptly requested once the servant had walked past.

Daemon eyed the woman suspiciously, before looking towards Rhaenyra, who had returned to the confines of her mind. He stared at Rhaenys and Corlys before walking past them muttering “follow,” as he guided them, he would not leave them alone with his daughters.

Rhaenyras tired eyes returned to the painted table, the urge to break it was strong. Waiting for it to grow a tongue and tell her where it had kept her daughter.

The large hall of the great sept sung a solemn song, candles fighting to stay alight within them this night. The loud sounds of raindrops hitting the stone walls of its structure blanketing the sounds of whispered prayers.

Green gown pooled on the floor behind where she was sat, hair tightly put up in a ring of braids crowning her bowed head,and fingers bare of any rings to adorn them. Her hands rested on the table, clasped so tightly that the crescents of her nails dented the skin of them. Lips muttering a prayer to the father, the mother, the warrior, the maiden, the smith and the crone. Every prayer contained the name of the missing princess.

She prayed to the mother for her protection, to keep the girl -where ever she was- in her gentle arms.

She prayed to the warrior, to brandish his sword and defend her from every danger that would come her way.

She prayed to the smith, to mend the girl a path for her to return home, and she prayed to the crone to guide her to that path.

She prayed that the maiden would keep her safe, to protect her innocence from wickedness. 

And she prayed to the father, to forgive and forget the curses she had prayed befall Rhaenyra and her kin.

A shuddered breath left her lips as her eyes came open, glancing up towards the looming statue that stared down. Shrinking beneath its displeased gaze, clutching her cloak tightly around her shoulders as she made her way out.

She exited the sept grimacing as the rain hit her skin, ushered into the carriage by the loyal Ser Criston. 

A sigh of relief passed through her lips as she settled into the small carriage. Prayers still echoing in her mind as she got further away from the great sept. She had hoped they would be met with a swift answer, that when she returns a letter would arrive from Dragonstone that the girl was somehow miraculously found. 

The keep was quiet in anxious wait, waiting to hear what had become of the missing princess each passing day. None had dared stay in the king's presence too long, not even his council. For the first time many had begun to believe that he was once the rider of the legendary Black Dread Balerion. 

He would spend much time in his chambers, running his fingers over his rings anxiously as he stared deeply into the fire of his hearth. He prayed that he would only see flame in that hearth.

How he worried for his daughter, fearing what grief she must be feeling. He was thankful that Daemon -as angry as he may have still been about their secret union- was at her side, he has never known a man to be as steadfast as him, not even Laenor.

The door to his chambers came open and he glanced over his shoulder to see whom it was.

“The hand, my king,” His Kingsguard informed.

Viserys grumbled, turning his attention back towards the hearth.

Otto strolled in standing beside the king’s chair, patiently awaiting the king's attention. Otto's face was not haunted by trepidation, he was one of the few who was able to get a good night's rest. He had his pity for Rhaenyra and the King, but he was not on tenterhooks waiting for her return. Decorating himself to be a patient man, for if he was ailed by their fears he would not be so effective in guiding this search.

“There best be a good reason for this late visit,” Viserys acknowledged.

Otto bowed his head to look down at the sitting King “I’ve received letters of apology from the lords Tyrell, Lannister and Baratheon,” he informed “they have ceased searching for  princess Daenerys on their lands, but they pray for her swift return to princess Rhaenyra.”

Otto grimaced as he spoke those words, as indifferent as he may have seemed, he did take careful steps. He knew that this action by those houses would not be appreciated, and for it, the king would not hold them dear to heart. House Lannister was warm in Otto's pocket thanks to his diplomacy, in time he hoped the Tyrells would be as well. They were two of the wealthiest houses in the seven kingdoms, and if the king had the malice to even wish for it, he could change that with a quick wave of his hand.

Had Tyland mentioned word of it to him, he would have been quick to advise against it, for the sake of house Lannister.

A hot breath left the frustrated lips, clenching the ends of his chair.

Otto was quick to rush to their defence “they had searched every corner of their territory, your grace, not a stone was left unturned, not a port left unchecked, they’ve exhausted much of their resources and they’ve yet to prepare for the summer storm.”

Viserys’s eyes fell shut “my granddaughter has yet to be found, and they’ve already began to lounge away.”

“Your grace, you are first the realms king, before being the girl's grandsire,” Otto advised, patronisingly reminding Viserys, who had seemingly forgotten.

Viserys glared up at Otto before shaking his head and turning his attention back towards the flames.

“Leave me,” Viserys dismissed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his dry fingers. 

Otto hummed, but did not bow his head in goodbye “the queen has just returned from the great Sept, she has finished her evening prayers for the princess,” he informed “Daenerys’s vanishing has saddened my daughters good heart, I can barely find her without a prayer falling from her lips.”

Viserys looked over at the ground where Otto stood.

“Neither she nor your children have known a moment of serenity,” a note of sorrow in Otto's voice as he tried to imagine a bit of sadness on the indifferent Aegons face. 

Viserys sighed a sharp breath through his nose. Wondering to himself if they were well, he could only imagine how her disappearance must have been affecting them. 

“I shall report to you their standing on the morrow,” Otto told dismissing himself.

His face returned to the same indiscernible expression as he made his way to Alicents chambers, where she and her children waited for her alive.

Alicent stared blankly on the table, the array of foods spread across it turning into a blur of colour as she sunk into her thoughts. Hands itching for a pen and quill to express her sympathies to Rhaenyra, her formal sympathies for all that existed amidst the strife between them was formality. 

Aemond looked over at his mother worriedly, the only one amongst the table who seemed to care for her well being. He wanted to tell her how unnecessary it was, for her to worry so much, if it had not been so long since Daenerys had gone missing.

He thought that within the first week since her disappearance was announced she would have been found. Instead, weeks had passed and she was still missing. He would lay in his bed wondering where she could have gone, but soon, he began to wonder why she had ever disappeared.

Even though he had sworn to forget her, with her disappearance he could only think of her, and what they could have done to her. He knew her to only ever disappear when she was hurt, and how hurt she was decided how long she would be missing for. So he began to ponder, whenever she was stared at too long she would be gone for an hour, hating the discomfort of being a spectacle, she was smart enough to not have subtle insults slip past her ears, that would cause her to disappear for the rest of the day, and when Aegon had taken a blade to her hair she was gone for nearly two days, and even then she had not returned by her own volition. So he wondered, what horror had they done to her that would make her disappear for two weeks.

Otto entered the room and sat upon the chair he most commonly sat at, brushing Helaenas shoulder and giving her a warm smile. One that would have startled Alicent for it was not a sight she had seen even in her younger years had she noticed it.

“Prayer before we begin?” Otto asked Alicent, drawing her out of her thoughts.

Her eyes fluttered as she looked over towards him “Of course.”

They all rested their clasped hands upon the table, bowing their heads as Alicent led the prayer “may the mother smile down upon this supper with love, and may her warmth shroud Daenerys as she finds her way back home.”

The winds turned the rain into sharp needles, swiftly tearing through the air and upon the skin of the men's faces. Soaking their cloaks as soon as they had left their tents.

Humfrey tried to look through the thick rain, relying on the bolts of lightning that brightened the sky and ground. Trying to not lose sight of the two dragon keepers ahead of him.

Lance tried to observe his surroundings, hoping for some sign to show him that they were close to the Dragon Caves would appear, but to his dismay there was nothing. Only a thick mist of water droplets splashing up from the ground. He feared that a flood would soon ensue because of this downpour. He was the furthest behind, for in Humfrey's opinion he was still a baby bee, best he stayed at a safe distance. He was made to pull a cart of small dragon cages.

The young dragon keeper's voice shouted out to them “We’re nearly there!” 

“What?!” Humfrey loudly asked.

“He said we’re nearly there!” Lance shouted, earning himself a sharp look he could not see from Humfrey.

The gaping dark pits protruding from the ground soon appeared from the mist. Prompting them to halt in their tracks, Humfrey asked the two dragon keepers “what now?!”

The elder of the two nodded for the young one to let go of the poor sheep. Letting it stroll about the stoney field around the caves. 

Humfrey glanced behind him to the two knights that accompanied him, Thankful to see that they too were confused.

“They should come out when they catch scent of the sheep,” the young dragon keeper explained as he approached Humfrey “it is best we seek shelter, keep watch from afar.”

They frantically searched the field for a spot to wait in that had a clear view of the dragon caves. The knights had no doubt that they would succumb to a cold for how long they had been out in the rain.

Eventually, after an exchange of many yells of disagreement, they had found a large stone jutting from the ground, a suitable shelter for the short time they had hoped to spend there.

Humfrey was quick to claim the most sheltered spot, leaving the rest to huddle tightly together. Unfortunately, Lance was the last to reach them, sitting at the edge of the shelter, shuddering as he felt the water trickle down his back. 

Humfrey smirked his way as he asked “not as glamorous as you thought, ain’t it little bee?”

Lance grumbled as he heard the vexing nickname.

Humfrey leaned back “what I would give for a warm bed, a warm cunt and a hot cup of tea sweetened with the finest honeys.”

“Can’t be that good, if our little bee so gladly left it all,” the other knight stated, sending a look of disdain towards the annoyed Lance. 

Lances lip twisted to the side, restraining the urge to argue. Turning to look out on the field his eyes squinted as he searched for the wandering sheep, pitying the poor thing as it fought against the wind.

“Do you think they’ve any luck in the search?” the knight asked.

Lance arched his brow curiously, tilting his head their way.

Humfrey scoffed “I doubt it, we’re faring better than they are in a few hours when they’ve had two months,” proud to see them nodding in reluctant agreement with him.

An uncomfortable silence befell them, and all they could hear was the sound of the whooshing rain around them.

Lance stared out onto the field, frowning to himself “you think she's still alive?” he asked abruptly. 

All of them had squirmed uncomfortably at the mention, in truth they were so used to Daemon's presence, hearing tellings of what he would do to those who dared even discuss the matter of her living or dead.

“You’d have to be daft to believe that true,” Humfrey answered quietly “at this point they’re hunting for a pile of bones.”

The knight beside him scoffed, shaking his head in pity for the missing girl's family “it’s best they spare themselves the grief and stop searching, better to think her still alive than find her dead.”

Lance glanced over her shoulder pondering their words, surprised by how true they were. He had seen the princess once, on her seventh name day, he saw how much she was adored by the king and her family, frowning as he imagined the grief they would feel if such a thing were true.  

The frantic bleats of a sheep reached their ears and they all shot up from the ground, turning towards the crying sheep as it battled with a small dragon, struggling to latch its teeth onto the sheeps neck as it thrashed about.

Lance moved to get up only to be shoved down by Humfrey as he ran past him “Get the cart!” Humfrey yelled, grasping the hilt of his sword as he rushed towards the dragon.

Another dragon leapt down from the sky, small but significantly bigger than the first. The bigger dragon landed on the sheep's back, claws digging through its coat of wool, through to its pink flesh. Growling as it latched its teeth around the poor creatures neck. The sheep thrashed about a feeble attempt to break free. The dragon began to gnash and pull at the flesh of its neck, frustrated by the fight it put up. 

The dragon's jaw was coated with bright red blood and saliva dripping down from it, it was hungry, thirsting to be sated by this fresh flesh. 

The little dragon watched on, roaring out to the bigger dragon as it saw the sheep begin to succumb to its fate.

The bigger dragon continued to gnaw at its neck, spurts of blood shooting out from the sheeps open neck. A final attempt by its heart to encourage the poor thing to keep fighting, gone for naught.

The dragon finally let go of the creature's neck, shaking its head before looking credulously at the other dragon.

The little dragon gestured with its head back towards the caves, the bigger dragon following its gaze and croaking in answer, turning its attention back towards the carcass at its feet.

His flaws had dug deep enough into the sheeps skin for it to be confident that its food would not fall from its grasp. Beginning to beat its wide spanning wings and lifting itself and the carcass up into the air.

The little dragon spread its wings to join the other dragon but its attention was caught by the four men charging their way. Jumping back in fear of such a sight for it was not something it had seen before, a sorry roar passing its mouth as it tried to frighten them.

The dragon that took flight, snapped its neck towards the sound. The black of its eyes narrowed at the sight. He dropped to the ground, staring at the metal men running its way.

A familiar scent reached him, scrunching his snout for it was the smell of human flesh.

But there was a twinge of something unfamiliar, something unwelcome, they may have smelt of flesh but they were missing something else. That was enough for the fierce dragon to label them a threat. Hovering closely to the ground eying them all as they approached asking itself, which one?

Humfrey felt a thrill rush through him, seeing the two dragons still on the ground, unmoving. His hand grasping the hilt of his sword unknowingly. 

They surrounded the dragons, the two dragon keepers approached the two beasts, speaking in their foreign tongue.

Humfrey would be annoyed had he not been so focused on the dragon's movements, waiting for a slip up, waiting for the right move that would lead to a great story and an even greater title.

The elder dragon keeper gestured for the young one beside him to step forth, seeing this as a great chance for the boy to learn. These were baby dragons, what could be so harmful about them?

The boy gulped nervously as he stepped forwards, his ears not missing the sound of the black dragons growls growing louder the closer he got. 

“Gīda byka zaldrīzes,” he softly commanded.

That seemed to only make the dragon angrier, tilting its head at the gall, but it continued to wait.

The boy stepped closer, and was a few feet away from the beast's mouth, but he was close enough. 

The dragon snapped forward, the sound of its teeth clashing together as it clamped its jaw down onto nothing.

The boy fell back, scrambling away from the dragon and towards the feet of the confused elder dragonkeeper.

In a flash, Humfrey removed his sword from its sheath and charged forward.

Everyone around him cried out for him to stand down, but he did not listen. Standing before the dragon and raising his sword above his head. From his perspective, he could not see the orange glow omitting from within the dragon's gullet.

As he moved to lower his blade upon the dragons back, a burst of fire came forth, bathing Humfreys front in a blaze that had him crying out in agony. The burst of flame did not stop, it kept flowing from the dragons mouth until Humfrey fell back onto the ground. Writhing on the wet ground as he attempted to pry off the armour that had begun to melt to his flesh.

 The dragon roared once more, keeping away the knight who tried to come to Humfrey’s aid. The dragon turned away climbing on the carcass and latching its claws into its body before taking flight, closely followed by the reluctant little dragon, who glanced behind it and back towards the group of men before taking after him.

Lance watched on in horror at what had unfolded, dropping the cart and rushing to the man patting down every region of his body frantically, too frightened to realise the damage that had already been done.

“GET OFF! GET OFF OF ME!” he cried out.

Lance’s brow furrowed in worry for him, he glanced back to where the dragons flew off to and was surprised to see them flying so close to the ground. He stood up from beside Humfrey instructing the knight “get him back to the castle!”

“How?” the knight asked, grimacing as he heard Humfrey cry out for him to get away.

Lance yelled as he turned “figure it out!”

Lance chased after the dragons, with no desire to confront them of course, he was not stupid, but he thought it best he knew where the dragons were going to come back with a greater amount of men. He could not have imagined such a reaction to come from a young dragon, he had heard stories of larger dragons attacking, but never had he heard of baby dragons' fury. 

As he reached the edge of a cave he gasped and dropped behind a rock as he saw all three dragons together. Narrowing his eyes to get a clearer look of the three.

The largest of them was a pitch black, its darkness absorbed the light that hit its body. Like an untethered shadow. The second was a dragon of iridescent green, the loudest of the three and most regal, its eyes a stark yellow. The last was a far smaller dragon, the size of a pup. His eyes were a beautiful ocean blue and skin was a red of the softest hue, one that was painful to the eye, its behaviour possessed dare Lance say it, an innocence. 

In awe of the sight his hand slipped against the wet stone and he fell to his knees, the sound of his armour scraping against itself alerting the three creatures.

The black dragon's fearsome demeanour returned as it prowled towards Lance, the small beasty was considerate enough to give the man a string of warning roars.

Lance raised his hands up, showing that he was without a weapon, and hoped that it was not blinded by its hunger to understand that Lance was no threat.

The green dragon seemed to call out to its black companion, a discussion between them that Lance was puzzled by but was hopeful for it to be in his favour. As he moved to adjust his footing, the black dragons attention quickly snapped back to him, eyes demanding the man stay still in his place.

Lance could have sworn he could see small wisps of steam passing from the corners of its mouth.

Lance stilled “I just want to leave,” he told, as though the dragon could understand. He moved around the dragon slowly, thankful that it was too busy roaring back at its two companions to focus on the man before him.

He knew of a safe path back to the castle that led up the shore, before he had decided to leave the comfort of Honeywine and vibrance of the red keep he had indulged all the books regarding warfare, knighthood, and history, most importantly he had poured over the schematic filled parchments, for he had no desire to be lost on the first day of the job. His access to knowledge was the one thing he appreciated most from his privileged upbringing. 

He was careful as he stepped over the stones that littered the ground, wincing at every misstep that had made too much noise for comfort.

One stone he had stepped over was rather odd, it crumbled beneath his feet so quickly.

He frowned as he heard the crumble and glanced down in horror as he realised what he had stepped on. 

At first it blended into the scorched ground from afar it would have been mistaken for a line of small rocks on the ground. Upon closer inspection it was revealed to be something terrible.

a hollow pit of darkness stared up at him, darkened flesh still attached in ashened patches scattered all over, the rain seemingly had managed to wash most of it away, turning some of it to a sludge carried towards the shore. Body curled into a foetal position, left leg having crumbled beneath the man's foot, mouth agape leaving Lance to imagine the rasps of distress that once fell from it. 

A flash of lightning reflected from something clutched in the corpses ashened hands. He knelt down beside it, careful not to step on another fragile limb. Bringing himself closer to get a better look without having to pry it away from the small corpse's hands.

His eyes widened as he reared back realising the figure that hugged the blade's handle.

It was a seahorse.

The handles once sea blue base burnt away revealing the metal beneath, no longer were its surfaces smooth but they were marred with patches of bubbles and melted metal. What remained of it was enough for him to recognise that such a dagger was not crafted by any smith, this had surely belonged to a noble. One of house Velaryon.

A shrill roar made him look away from the body as he began to dread who it had belonged to. 

The pale red dragon had made its way towards him trying to catch his attention. Once it had gained it, it turned to face the cave and looked back towards the man, a gesture for him to follow the small dragon.

Lance was too lost in his own mind to understand what it had meant. He glanced back towards the body, eyes looking over it, noticing how small it was, how fair it was to assume who it had belonged to.

“Ser Lance!” a familiar voice called out.

He looked up to where it had come from, five knights led by Ser Mychael headed his way.

The dragons grew fearful but the little one did not seize its urging. The green dragon had seen enough, and knew it was time they left. Teeth lightly grabbing at the smaller dragons tail, pulling it back to the cave.

The largest of the free leapt forth and bellowed a wall of fire around the caves entrance, an attempt to ward them off. An action not appreciated by the red dragon.

The men drew their swords and shields and surrounded the dragons shielded by their wall of flame. 

The water hitting the hot stone quickly turned to a thick steam. The dragons wisely took this valuable opportunity, fleeing to escape, disappearing into the inky depths of the cave.

Lance slowly looked back down away from where they had disappeared, returning his gaze to the charred corpse at his knees. His face, a mask of horror and disbelief, most of all fear.

Mychael noticed this, following the boy's gaze, and soon, the same mask fell upon his aged face. 

The rest of the knights circled the body, staring down in horror, not for disbelief and disgust at what had happened to what they assumed was a poor child, but the terrible omen behind it, the terrible promise of a wrath unimaginable.

“It's her…” Lance whimpered, his arms limp at his sides as he stared at the remains.

Mychael gulped “how do you know?”

Lance sniffled, his hands gentle as he pointed at the clutched blade.

Mychael knelt down and soon a sombre look marred his face, deep lines lining between his brows and at the corners of his downturned lips.

A fearful knight frantically suggested “we needn’t do this, we could let the search continue, they do not need to know.”

“Let them go on thinking her alive Ser, give them that mercy!” the other pleaded, in agreement with the first knight.

Lance looked at them in disbelief.

Mychael sounded a rumbling hum from deep within his chest as though he was pondering it. Lance looked towards the man, awe struck by how long his answer had taken.

“Are you sure that this would be a mercy to them or to you, a litter of cravens?” he rhetorically asked, his eyes not leaving the body of the child.

They fell silent, but squirmed in fear as they imagined the fire that would soon hit their skin once they’d presented the dead dragonling to its mother.

“Go to your tents, go to your rooms, and rest, sleep well knowing yourselves safe,” Mychael told, pulling his wet cloak from his back, laying it on the ground “but let your cowardice burn itself into your minds, and may it remind you that the title you wear of Ser, of Knight, of protector, is made of a sheep's coat and not worn like a lion's mane,” he was gentle as he slid the body carefully upon his cloak “what dishonour you bring, what a stain you all are.” 

His last words before he stood, cradling the body in his arms, marching with a stiff lip and steely eyes to the dragon's den

Lance arose from the ground paying no glance to the sulking cravens that surrounded him and instead tailed after the man.

Mychael stilled in his steps turning to face the solemn boy “do my commands always pass through to the otherside of your ear?” he questioned.

Lance attempted to match the mans face, but there was the smallest hint of fear in his young eyes “I found her, tis I who should be seeing it to its end.”

“You expect an award?” Mychael asked.

“I expect a duty fulfilled, that ends with no gratitude.”

The man stared at the boy stepping forth towards him “know this is your next duty boy, rest.”

“You can’t.”

“You will.”

Lance's eyes flickered between the man's eyes, outraged by how he was addressed. He was no boy, he was a man grown, he was a knight, a knight that fulfilled his duty, a duty that led to anguish but he had fulfilled it nonetheless. 

“Rest,” Mychael commanded before turning his back and continuing his solemn march. His breaths turned shallow as he grew closer to the almost villainous looking castle.

He readied his mind and his heart, so that they would be prepared to greet the strangers fury with grace.

Lance watched dejectedly as the man walked away. Turning behind him to see that all the other knights had dispersed, not questioning the command. He had wondered if Mychaels words had done anything to them. He frowned as he saw the same pale red dragon emerged from the inky cave again, crying out to him, urging him in a tongue he could not understand.

He tiredly looked at the small creature, exhaustion wrapping its limbs around his stiff body, and guiding him away from the terrible scene, which he knew would haunt him, he knew it would forever haunt him. 

His first duty had ended with expected anguish.

 Cries of agony echoed through the castle of dragonstone, the empty and quiet halls carrying the sound throughout the structure, waking its uneasy inhabitants.

Rhaenyra's eyes flew open at the sound, rising from her bed as quick as the flash of lightning that shone from outside her window. Angry at the interruption, for she worked behind closed eyes to shape her daughter's face, the face she had begun to forget. Her eyes were a blur of purple, her head a blur of brown, and her face devoid of detail.

Daemon arose from the chaise by the fire, alarmed by the sound, rushing for his sword and leaving the room without a word.

Rhaenyra stared at the upon door, curious by what was beyond it.

‘Has she returned, as my sweet girl returned?’ she asked the world, knowing that its answer lies behind those doors.

She rushed to grab her robe, slinging it around her shoulders, briskly sliding her arms through the sleeves and tying it painfully tight around her waist. The pain did not matter for the excitement quickly subsided as her feet carried her swiftly down the halls and towards the painted room.

Her mind raced as she wondered to herself, would she find her daughter well? Was she injured? Mayhaps she was starving. Was she afraid? Would she charge to her mother and fall into her arms, a safe embrace that Rhaenyra promised to offer all her children no matter what.

Her footsteps stilled at the sound of a familiar grunt, and the sound of a terrible squelch. The hall was empty, likely having all gathered into the painted room, their shouts and pleas proving her right as she heard them come from the rooms open doors.An orange glow omitting from the firelit chamber, cutting through the cold shadows of the hallway.

She began to move slowly towards the room, rounding its corner, eyes widening as she saw her husband straddling a man's body, one hand around the man's neck and the other tightly gripping the man's helm. 

The once silver helmet was coated red, its curves flicking out the blood that had pooled into them with every quick raise before being brought back down upon the gaping red hole where the man's face should have been. All that was left of it was a mess of flesh, muscle, blood, and skull fragments, all scattered across the floor.

She stood at the centre of the doorway watching Daemon as he unpromptedly bestowed his wrath upon the poor man. Corlys and many other guards urging him off the already dead man, but careful enough to not be within the reach of the thrashing wormy limbs of his fury.

All sound seemed to fade from her ears as she saw a black mound resting on the table. Her tired eyes had made it look like a black blob from afar, a pile of soot.

As her feet brought her closer towards it, detail began to form from the dark mound, the same details she had fought to retain as she tried to remember her daughter's face. 

Soon the mound had a bony foot, missing a two toes, that foot then connected to leg, with ashened and shrunken flesh that latched around the charred bones of its thigh, the beginning of the femur loosely attached to a pelvis, that then joined to a small cage of ribs and a short rod of spine, barely held together by the skin of the shrunken flesh covering the remainder of the body.

And lastly.

A head.

A small skull to be more correct.

Detached from the spine.

Its base against the curved shoulder its body rested on.

A thin layer of black flesh hugging the eye canals, disappearing from the cheeks.

Jaw loose from its place, hung open.

Rhaenyra stared at it for a moment before pushing away the horror, the dread, the fear, and worst of all the anguish, the grief, a grief she prayed not to feel, not ever.

The eyes of the hall stared at her, Daemon seized his assault as he looked at Rhaenyra with blood splattered across his face. He was overwhelmed by failure, by defeat, he broke his promise to her, his oath to her.

Rhaenyra could feel their gazes bore into her, how they waited for her reaction. 

She sniffled, not realising the heavy tears that slipped down her cheeks as she turned to look at them, her face eerily credulous but her eyes a pool of hot anguish waiting to burst forth.

“Who is this?” she asked, her heart feigning her naivety, forcing her mind to submission as it refused to admit who was laid before her.

None dared speak, standing in silence as they watched her, flinching at every subtle movement she had made. Her hands rested over her rounding belly, bruising the lengths of her fingers as she twisted them harshly.

The brave Corlys stepped forth in his hands a dagger resting within them. 

“Tis with a heavy heart I tell you this Princess,” he gently spoke, staring at the dagger in his hands, hiding the sheen of tears on his eyes as he stared at the familiar object “know that my house sends its greatest sympathies good daughter.”

Rhaenyra kept her credulousness, but her eyes screamed a warning to him.

With a heavy heart he spoke the words none else dared say, words that sent waves of dread rolling through those who only heard it.

“Tis your sweet daughter Daenerys, she has been found.”

Taglist: @takemetotheweirdness @grungegrrrl @paininmyasgard @deadunicorn159

[draguuula]

FOREST FELINE.

synopsis: mychael takes to comforting you when the wave of dread knowing you'll likely never see your beloved cat again hits you. hurt/comfort, cute fluff <3 BEWARE !! i did not proof read... live laugh love myc.

it was cozy curled up by the fireplace in mychael's cottage as the crackles soothed your brain from running completely rampant the way it wanted to right now. you felt terrible for being a killjoy despite not voicing it at all. i mean, it had to be silly after all- right? seriously, running yourself ragged all the way out here for hours just to find a cat of all things... were you stupid or brave?

mychael's anomally of a tail flicked behind him as he watched you with multiple glowing yellow irises, observing your face as you stared into the pits of the fire minding its business in his fireplace.

"...what's on your mind, firefly?" he asked, startling you out of your tense expression.

"ah, nothing...! ...nothing much, that is. i just... miss my cat, is all..." you trailed off.

he sweat dropped at your words, glancing away stiffly. you had a right to know, but... he shook his head, going against his thoughts, and draped another one of his many knitted blankets over your shoulders that were already stacked with woven material.

"...you care very much for your cat... yes?"

"mhm, more than you could ever know."

he bit his lip just the slightest. maybe it was too soon. oh, it most definitely was too soon to say something like this, but he couldn't bare seeing the little firefly in front of him tremble with overwhelming guilt and sadness eating away at them, he just-

"would you... like to... pet me instead...?"

"what?"

his face flushed azure immediately, his black sclera more visible than ever as his eyes widened at the words that left his own mouth. he had never wished more that he hadn't shown them his face. at least then, he could have a reason to hide his face even the slightest bit with his hair.

speaking of his hair, before he could muster up any apologies to sputter out, he felt your fingers thread themselves through his blonde locks slowly. it sent a shudder down his spine, and he visibly trembled when his ears folded back.

it was quiet in the room, but not uncomfortably so, surprisingly, due to the fact both of you were blushing messes in your own respective contrasting blush.

before mychael could say anything further, his shoulders slumped, and all words died on his tongue. all four of his eyes closed, and his brows furrowed together to try and not get overwhelmed by your gentle administrations soothing him.

his lip quivered from the comfort. you both needed this.

"mychael... are you... purring right now?"

his eyes shot open and his jaw tensed a bit. was he?

the sound of your infectious giggles on top of the calming feeling of your hand on his head rolled away any lingering thoughts he had left - rational ones, at least.

he spared you a glance with soft eyes glowing alongside the fireplace's illumination, smiling warmly whilst sinking into your touch. a happy rumble emitted from his chest.

you were meant to be here.

to be here with him, he thought, his tail flicking happily and his ears drooping.

[deerspherestudios]

Hello Deersphere, I'm magical girl, and honestly I'm so happy I get to ask you a question cause real talk, I am enjoying the community of Mushroom Oasis and the Character Mychel that we adore so much, and hopefully once I get my Fanfic done, maybe I can show it to you once its in the clear.

Then again, I do have a question about Mychel, and I'm very aware that he doesn't think much about children since I read the answers, but you don't have to answer this if you don't want to, I'm just curious in general :3.

Does he have any male parts by any chance, or no?

P.S. Don't worry my Fanfiction will be Fluff 💚🍄♥️

He's not sure if he wants to answer that.

[delusionalvenusian]

Summary: losing Bucky to the Snap

a/n: rewatched Infinity War and this came out

Warnings: ANGST, just straight up sad, proceed with caution

Listening to: No Tracks In The Snow - Mychael Danna

Steve searched for you among those that remained after leaving the battlefield, appearing alone in the small crowd of frantic people. He didn't immediately speak, pulling you in for the hug he knew you'd desperately need-- albeit, the wrong hug. You couldn't bring yourself to ask what you wanted so badly to know, because you didn't want to hear the answer. If Bucky had made it, he'd have been there holding you instead of Steve, you knew that for certain. You continued to bite your tongue. Eventually Steve broke it down-- the stone, Thanos, the Snap. The explanation brought no comfort. Nearly everyone you loved was gone. Bucky was gone. And so, too, was your whole life.

The next days elapsed on autopilot, and everything moved fast and slow simultaneously. Steve and Natasha refused to let you stay alone in the home you'd made with Bucky in Wakanda, knew you weren't built for a solitary life and wouldn't survive the anguish of the constant daily reminder of Bucky's absence. When it was time to leave with the remaining Avengers, Steve packed your bags for you, sparing you the pain of having to enter the cozy hut that had been your sanctuary just hours before.

Once back in New York, you holed up in the Avengers Compound with Steve, Natasha, Bruce, and Rhodes. To your surprise, your room had gone completely unchanged from how you'd left it over two years prior, before you'd left to oversee Bucky's deprogramming in Steve's stead, never looking back. It was like a time capsule of your old life. One before Bucky. One you didn't want. A wave of rage you hadn’t yet let yourself feel rushed through you as the door shut behind you and you threw your bags down. You barreled toward your closet and flung open the doors, grabbing armfuls of old clothing and ripping them down from their hangers until fabric was strewn about the whole room. No energy left to unpack anything Steve had brought for you, you sat down on the floor, surveying the mess you'd created. You heard a soft knock on your door, but didn't bother responding, instead letting whoever enter of their own volition. The door cracked carefully and Steve poked his head in before stepping through.

"I just want to be alone," you rasped out, days of crying and barely speaking drying out your throat.

"I know," Steve said. "Just wanted to drop this off." He dropped a duffle on the floor next to you. "Forgot it when we unloaded."

You nodded as you reflexively slid the bag in front of you and unzipped the top zipper, wrenching it open. Your breath caught in your throat as the unmistakable scent of Bucky immediately wafted out. There in the bag were nearly all of his belongings, his soap sat right on top. Eyes hot with tears, you looked up at Steve. You wanted to say 'thank you,' maybe even a misplaced 'fuck you,' anything, but your bottom lip just quivered uncontrollably.

"You're gonna want all of that. Trust me." Steve had experience in losing the love of one's life, of course. And if he couldn't give you Bucky, he wanted to give you the next best thing. For now, the contents of that duffle was the best he could do. "I'll leave ya to it. You know where to find me if you need anything," he said, ducking back out of the room.

You cherished that duffle as time ticked on. And, boy, did it tick on. For five long years.

Over the course of those years, you continued to hunker down with Steve, trying to make the best of things day by day. You accompanied him to his support group meetings, finding healing in community, but refusing to heed Steve's message of moving on. You'd never let go of Bucky, resigned to never finding a love that would even begin to live up to what you'd shared.

Steve tried to give extra care in the little ways he could on the harder days, knowing you were aching more intensely for Bucky than usual when he could smell that you had showered using your precious bar of Bucky's soap, a ritual you started on the third anniversary of the Snap. You'd then officially lived longer in a post-Bucky world than the world you'd built with and around him, and you needed to feel close to him again in whatever way you could. The occasions after that were usually his or your birthday, holidays you'd celebrated together, anniversaries of special moments, days that you especially longed to be able to press your nose into the crook of Bucky's neck, his whiskers tickling your face, and breathe him in deeply, proudly wearing his musk on the parts of your body that had touched his for the rest of the day.

You managed to make that soap last over the following two years, careful never to use too much at once, before you found you were down to its last shards. You refused to finish it, the jagged fragment itself becoming part of the consolation, irreplaceable-- it wasn't just a bar of the fragrant soap, it was his bar, that he'd touched, that you'd used to tenderly bathe him with so many times.

You couldn't find the magic of that anywhere else.

But, thankfully, you wouldn't need it for much longer. He'd soon come back to you. Just like he'd promised.

[huntinglove]

❝ 𝕀 𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕤 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥 ❞

Hello! I'm Ghosty, and this is my selfship blog!

About me:

❣ Proshipper

❣ Adult (20+)

❣ Brazilian

❣ Any pronouns (Xenos/Neos welcomed!)

❣ INFP

❣ Aquarius

❣ Sometimes I draw & write!

❣ I post a lot of positivity and imagines

❣ Beware! I don't send anon asks

My current main F/Os:

Please note: I am always uncomfortable sharing my main F/Os, no matter what and will block people accordingly!

❣ Charlie Mcay (A Double Sided Mirror)

❣ Mychael (Mushroom Oasis)

❣ Alma (Lift Your Spirits)

❣ Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel) [Okay sharing with mutuals!]

❣ Simon Petrikov (Adventure Time)

❣ Jason Dean (Heathers The Musical) [Okay sharing with mutuals!]

❣ Muichiro Tokito (Demon Slayer)

❣ Hunter (The Owl House)

❣ Zebruh Codakk (Friendsim/Hiveswap)

My Complete F/O List can be found here!

My F/Os post and interact with others through @turnedmansion!

I hope you enjoy your stay!

Adults, please do consider checking out my 18+ accounts:

Aethy

Twitter

[talkbycolor]

me and my husband

A/N; wholesome old fashioned marriage in 1950, ITS 5AM I DIDNT SEELP ALL NITH

Pairing; "Mychael" x AFAB!Reader

CW; fluff / this is a what if MC stayed willingly on the forest, forgetting about the cat, his job and everything / reader is called wife and wears dresses but that doesnt mean its a woman (to my transmasc fellas (probably only me)) / this made me feel like inside a disney old movie / mawar, sansuyu and primrose are kinda like their babies / cute implied sex

The morning was as beautiful and warm as your heart, the sun's rays came through the windows while you combed your hair in front of the mirror, you could hear the morning song of the birds echoing from outside, the aroma of the forest was fresh, like a delicious mint tea in the morning, ready to brighten your day.

"Honey, Mychael, are you awake?" You asked as you looked at the green-tinted body next to you, the non-human boy only letting out a few muffled sounds, trying to sweep the dream away from himself.

"Good morning, firefly" Mychael said in a lazy tone, he opened two of his four eyes before leaning down to kiss your lips, morning breath was not a problem when it came to showing how much he loved you.

"I'm going to make breakfast, can you feed the girls?" Even though it was a question you were already standing up to put on a coat and head to the kitchen.

Mychael imitated you by standing up and putting on a coat, it would soon be winter and the weather was already starting to change, but that was okay! It meant you could be the little spoon when giving yourself nightly cuddles with your husband.

Ah, husband, that word sounded so nice.

Not long ago you told Mychael about what marriage was and the emotional meaning it carried, how that made you "officially" a family, so to speak.

Your wedding was in the garden, Marmar, Sunny and Rosie were present of course, Mychael walked you back to the city to get a beautiful white suit and veil, you looked so beautiful that day, Mychael made sure to repeat it every second and make you feel like the most esteemed jewel in the world.

You could still remember how your mother told you things about maturity, how sweet life would be once you found your loved one and shared a life together until death do you part.

Mychael was that, your loved one, a boy with a heart of gold who only loved you.

And to his three girls, of course, Mawar, Sansuyu and Primrose, since that day, every moment has felt so fresh and pure, like tasting paradise, swimming in clouds, sobbing stars.

And Michael? Oh, it was so adorable to see how he did anything for your comfort, you were his beloved pearl, his old-fashioned lover who loved naps by the fireplace and telling stories about his life.

If chickens could talk, they would say that you look at Mychael with radiant love in your eyes and he does the same.

While you were washing the vegetables for breakfast you heard Mychael entering back into the cabin after feeding the chickens and checking the crops. He approached humming a song, the same one he played for you for the first time on his kalimba, his hands wandering. over his hips and moved playfully from side to side, inviting you to dance with him.

"Come on sweetie, don't you want to dance with your husband for a moment?" He whispered in your ear, his hands took yours to force you to stop working and turn to look at him.

Yes, he didn't look human but that doesn't mean he wasn't attractive.

Your hand went up to caress the strange mushroom-patterned horn on his head, causing your husband to purr, it was so cute to see him so comfortable next to you, with you, with the life they had.

You left your job behind, his old home, but you wouldn't change anything you have now, a quiet and domestic life was all you needed.

Both bodies moved through the kitchen, spinning to the rhythm of Mychael's humming, the home was so cozy that the cold seemed nonexistent.

Despite still being a little numb from just waking up, you interrupted his humming to sing, it's not like you had the best voice and it was actually kind of embarrassing, but when you're in love, who doesn't do the cheesiest things? You laughed a little at how happy it made you to dance alongside your husband.

"Hey, hey, hey, lover… you don't have to be a star, hey, hey, hey, lover… I love you just the way you are" Your cheeks burned with grief but that didn't stop you from smiling, Mychael leaned in to gather his forehead with yours as he enjoyed the moment with you.

Being with you made him the happiest man in the world.

"My wife is so sweet, you make me so happy, firefly" he whispered as one pair of eyes watched you, the other pair was closed as he savored the dance with you, he pulled your hips to cling to his body even more. "My beautiful wife, my beloved is so alluring, so charming, so wonderful, stunning, breathtaking" Receiving compliments from your man was always so pleasant, if you could purr like him you surely would.

"You look so alluring wearing that flowery apron" He commented with a mischievous smile, Mychael was a bit cocky by nature and loved to tease you.

He knew you liked that.

You both cooed at each other for a long time until your stomach growled, demanding food, you couldn't ignore the routine anymore so you both got to work on breakfast.

It was such a complete love, such a full life, such a happy heart.

After having breakfast you made sure to take good care of Marmar, Sunny and Rosie, that the field was in perfect condition, and clean the cabin. Mychael had gone out to bring a few things that were missing from the home, such as more firewood, meat for dinner and some pipes to install the drainage system in the bathroom, it was almost ready.

Not every day was the same, sometimes they had time to spare and they would settle down together in front of the fireplace, go for a walk through the most relaxing areas of the forest, or cuddle the chickens.

"Honey, wifey" Your husband's voice rang, he was knitting new wool sweaters since it would soon be winter. You walked over to your husband to snuggle up next to him, the atmosphere making your eyes feel heavy.

"Tired, firefly?" Mychael asked, just watching you pout and bat your eyelashes was enough to have the green-skinned boy carrying you bridal style to the bedroom, it always worked so you didn't help but let out a malicious giggle.

Things in bed were also fun, you were both passionate and loved each other intensely.

"I love you so much, Mychael, I want you to lull me, drown me, crush me…" You asked him in a whisper despite being the only ones in the cabin, the warm atmosphere of the home protected them, You were in the dark, the sounds of the forest setting their act of love. "My husband is so good, he knows how to make me feel so good, so desired" You confessed to him with a blush on your cheeks, saying what you felt so openly (maybe even a little bold) was still something that made you nervous.

"Thank you for coming into my life, dear" The seriousness with which he said those words carried so much feeling, he gave you a sad smile, you knew that Mychael was alone before he met you… very, very alone. "You always fill my heart with so much joy, knowing that you are mine... I feel so loved and… I want to make you feel loved, I am completely devoted to you, firefly, your wishes are my commands"

You were both sighing under the sheets, exhausted by their recent act, bodies so close together that they seemed to melt into each other as they enjoyed the other's heat.

"I love you"

"I love you"

You both laughed, sharing a loving kiss before falling asleep.

♡

[odiesgodhamster]

Not and ask but OMG I ADORE YOUR MYCHAEL DRAWINGS I WANNA BUY THEM AND PUT THEM ON A KEYCHAIN!!! /HJ <333

OMG THIS IS SO SWEET!!

Tysm teehee, maybe farther down the line I will make fanmade merch for it but I dunno…