All soulbonding posts I see are either soulbonds considering themselves as headmates or soulbondERS just mentioning it in their intro as something related to yumeshipping.
I am not a headmate, I am not an alter. I am a daytrip soulbond. I can do things seperate from Pawn & Company (We both go by Daemon, this is just what I will refer to her as for now).
I haven't seen many soulbonder yumes talk about experiences. But then again I'm new to the community.
❝ i’ve been removing my own armor for quite some time, thank you very much. ❞ 😈 @ daemon (let me see what u can cook up kerms yum yum)
No doubt.
Isn’t she embarrassed, in the face of that old Royce idiot’s name. Into her ear and from behind, eye cast about, he croons:
❛Is there anything your father taught you well?❜
The Valemen are slow, uncultured pigs in the art of the hunt, tracking filth wherever they stomp. They had him take one for a wife, but admittedly, she’s more sense in her than any of her drunken simpletons.
He’s not seen one banner.
Crooked as her arm is, she jerks. Is she trying to, what, strike him? Good. He was getting bored.
Daemon tut-tut-tuts. The last clasp on her breastplate hangs untouched and the rest loose around her middle. Where Daemon has her by the gauntlet, he tips her elbow up just so. De-armouring her will wait until she gathers her wits, few as they appear to be.
❛Now, I can can set it right,❜ her shoulder, that is, which he now introduces to a nightmarish angle, ❛or I can make it worse.❜
An ambush is only an ambush if you allow it to be, and Royce is no fighter. She can cut and not much else. He killed four of those cunts and the fifth one, well—he would have bled out hours prior under Daemon’s express care.
If inclined to take revenge and point his fellow cunts in their direction, he should have. Though Daemon has seen many a time what a challenge it is to speak with the tongue carved out at the root, through a hole of blood.
The rains have made the close-treed eve wet. His chin is sore up to his mouth from a hilt’s smack. A tongue for a scratch, as the poets spin.
More will come in the night. Daemon encourages them to; Dark Sister is very, very thirsty.
hey , everyone ! i’m b. and i already want to apologize for this intro . i just hate writing intros as i tend to get lost while doing so ... bear with me , it’ll be over soon . also , keep in mind that i would love all kinds of plots , so hmu here or around the dscord so we can love each other endlessly .
raise your goblets ! perhaps you haven’t noticed , but 𝙷𝙴𝙽𝚁𝙸𝙺 𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 , the 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 of 𝚆𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙰 is coming this way ! closely followed by their daemon , 𝙰𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚈 , who settled as a 𝙻𝙰𝚁𝙶𝙴 𝙿𝙾𝙻𝙰𝚁 𝙱𝙴𝙰𝚁 . tensions are pretty high , considering that the 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚁𝚃𝚈 𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 year old is wandering through the streets of wisteria . i’m sure they mean no harm since they’re very 𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙴𝚁𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴 + 𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙸𝙻𝙸𝙴𝙽𝚃 , despite coming across as rather 𝙿𝙷𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙲 + 𝙰𝙲𝙴𝚁𝙱𝙸𝙲 .
𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐁𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 , born in the middle of a violent snowstorm where the sounds of the wind against the stone walls mimicked the howling of wolves . the first born ― – - wisteria’s heir . from his first breath , 𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙞𝙠 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 would already unveil a fiery temper : as if the small & yet tender monarch had flames within his veins , proving to everyone that , unlike the night that would hold his birth , there was nothing cold in his nature . amid the war cries of the newborn prince , nevertheless , the pride was incomparable when the king & the queen finally got the first glimpse of their son . the night was frozen but their hope wasn’t .
𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 , the boy would behave like a wild child born for a ferocious world ― – - followed closely by his daemon , 𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙮 , that woud jump to one form to another , as untamed as the other part of her soul . a lied would be told if henrik said he always wanted the future already set for him : to be a king . the boy himself & so many others would even dare to think he wasn’t born to reign , after all . his spirit was like wildfire and thus too unstable to hold a crown ― – - the young lancaster’s interest wasn’t in politics , in the refined behavior that the title fueled or in a life attached to a single & unchanging path .
𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 with no strings , where he could run in all directions as every intense spirit should . and so , the prince spent most of his childhood in tumultuous years : while wisteria was painted with the truce between the three kingdoms , henrik was sure to create a chaos of his own . 𝙧𝙖𝙧𝙚 were the days he spent under the tutelage of men & women appointed to teach the deeds worthy of a prince ― – - instead , he would run wild through the courtyard , learning to be a warrior rather than a monarch just for show . with the same intensity with which henrik behaved under his own will , however , he would also hold his pride heated with honor acquired & nourished during many centuries : the boy didn’t want to be a king , but he was blindly proud of his family’s story .
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 , however , when he was twenty years old : a man , no less , with a rather large polar bear at his heels . but a man that would see his father , his king , die ― – - a man that would have to face his fate , at last , with a bittersweet taste . the prince became the new king , and henrik only then started to dedicate himself into being what the title required . instead of following his own nature , the lancaster started to read & learn about politics and warfare ― – - about honor and the moments when the same integrity should be put aside . everything synthesized a rough start for both henrik and the kingdom , but the once wild boy painted himself in 𝙣𝙚𝙬 colors : fitting the role of a leader and suppressing the fiery side of his spirit .
𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 things seemed to fit together . the lancaster king was accepted and 𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙙 by his people , his young mind would settle into the fate he couldn’t run from ― – - and his loyalty would assure he would always pursue what was best for wisteria . reason why the now king became restless with the news of a crimson trail of dead daemons : something that would lead the man into put aside the silent animosity with the two kingdoms surrounding his own and welcome the royal families .
personality.
𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐈𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 isn’t exactly an easy man to deal with . albeit under rigid control , his nature is volatile & often aggressive ― – - almost unconquerable : emotions that are rarely expressed by the man himself , who commonly features a lull facade , but rather by his daemon . he owns intense and strong feelings and fights for what he believe is right in every possible way . resolute and independent , henrik rarely needs others to help achieving what he desires , not thinking twice if he has to run over anyone who dares to stop in his way . extremely protective over his family & loved ones , the king can become a impetuous man , who walks the brim of cruelty if necessary to keep them 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚 : though while dealing with those who he loves , he takes the position of a dedicated and caring man .
‘surely i would tell you if something were wrong. nothing is wrong.’ ( for Daemon from Rhaenyra )
Spoken loudly enough for not a single soul in the room to miss it—to Daemon but addressed elsewhere.
Low. Lower.
To Cole. Many congratulations are in order, for appeasing once again the dirt that would have had her disowned.
Rhaenyra’s hand weaves a spiderweb over Daemon’s knuckles. There. They are now both flirting with the waist of his dagger; with each other’s proximity under Viserys’ nose. Cole’s eyes do their best not to swell out of his empty skull.
She’s saving Cole’s life and his reputation both. Bleeding out through his mouth is no knightly death, is it.
It’s the weakest he’s seen her yet. They are no longer touching.
❛Ser Cristal,❜ Daemon’s fingers snap, ❛seems fatigued. You,❜ a servant without a face, name or land, ❛see to it that the coals in his chambers burn hot, as well as the memory of who made him.❜
The servant looks from Daemon to Cole. And to Daemon once more. "My prince."
